A Little Chat

By Bratling

Disclaimer: Not mine. I hugged them, squeezed them, called them George, and then gave them back like a good girl. Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman belongs to Beth Sullivan, CBS, and A&E.

Author's Note: I remain unconvinced of Andrew and Colleen. For the era, Andrew didn't do it right, and as protective as Sully is of Michaela and the kids, he was way too accepting for it to be in character. He only ever saw her on school vacations and the occasional weekend, and that was when she wasn't busy helping out at home and in the clinic. She was also only about seventeen and he was at least ten years her senior. At that age, ten years is a lot, because you still have a lot of maturing to do. This is what I think we should have seen in A New Beginning, and it is the beginning of undoing the wedding. My thanks to my beta readers, Wendy and Sara.

This is part of a fanfic authors' challenge to use the word, "deception" in a fanfic.

"Today I begin to understand what love must be, if it exists. . . . When we are parted, we each feel the lack of the other half of ourselves. We are incomplete like a book in two volumes of which the first has been lost. That is what I imagine love to be: incompleteness in absence."

-Edmond de Goncourt (1822-96) and Jules de Goncourt (1830-70)

Sully sat outside on the porch steps watching the sky lighten and the stars disappear as the sun rose. He'd half expected Andrew to propose to Colleen... someday. But the more he thought about it, the more he thought Michaela was right - Andrew had only asked Colleen out of fear. And that was no way to start a life together. Not only that, but in his mind, Colleen was too young to marry; he agreed with Michaela about that, too. At least, not with how little she had seen of Andrew in the past two years. He also didn't like it that Andrew hadn't come to them to ask for her hand - hell, he hadn't even asked if he could court her. Sully thought the young doctor had almost been... underhanded about all of it. Perhaps he thought their earlier conversation had been blanket permission, but Sully hadn't meant it like that. He hadn't been able to sleep. His eldest daughter leaving home to go so far away was a bit more unsettling than he cared to admit, even to himself.

Perhaps he should have a... chat with Andrew. And perhaps with Colleen - though maybe he should leave that to Michaela. Or not. He didn't know. But Andrew needed to understand that just because Colleen hadn't changed her last name when they adopted her didn't mean that she wasn't his little girl. He'd watched her grow up, and had a hand in raising her even before Charlotte died. He'd been the most secure father figure she'd had since Ethan had up and left. He'd worked hard not to show it, but part of him was jealous that Ethan was the kids' natural father instead of him. It made no difference, though - they were his kids where it mattered.

He sighed and ran his hands through his hair before he got up and went to milk the cow. He hauled up a bucket of water and took it inside the barn. Just as he was picking up a bar of soap and a rag to wash the cow's udder, he heard hoof beats outside. It was early for someone to come calling - perhaps there was an emergency. He put the soap and cloth he was holding on the milking stool and went outside just in time to see Andrew dismounting from his horse. "Ain't it a bit early to come by, Andrew?" he asked dryly.

Andrew turned around, startled. "Sully!" he said.

"Yeah?" Sully eyed Andrew. He hadn't meant that Andrew should propose to his daughter - more like he should ask if he could officially court her. That he could have lived with.

Andrew gave him a sheepish look. "It, um, occurred to me that I should have asked you before I proposed to Colleen."

"Yes, you should have. Ya should've asked ta court her first," Sully unsheathed his tomahawk and flipped it in his hand, then pulled out a hair and tested it on the blade. He spared a glance at Andrew, who paled as the hair split on the small ax. "Smacks a bit of deception that ya didn't, don't it, Andrew? Or is it just cowardice?" He idly flipped the tomahawk, walked a few paces away from the wall, and threw it at the target on the side of the barn. He smiled a little at the loud thunk as it landed dead center and a small part of him relished the fact that the blood drained out of Andrew's face. He walked back to the target, pulled out the tomahawk, checked the edge for nicks and then re-sheathed it.

"We haven't officially courted," Andrew admitted weakly.

Sully pulled out his bowie knife and tested its sharpness as well. "An' ya think that a few hours here an' there talkin' 'bout medicine is a good foundation for a marriage?" he asked as he threw the knife at the target, placing it barely half an inch from where the tomahawk had been. He'd learned that throwing a knife wasn't that much different from throwing a tomahawk during his time spent in hiding. "You've taken her ta supper an' on a picnic once an' spent some time when she weren't in school with her, but ya haven't courted - not really. Ya didn't even exchange letters with her while she was gone."

"I love Colleen," Andrew said.

"I'm sure ya do, but she's young yet - not even eighteen." Sully checked the blade of his knife and decided it could use some sharpening. He walked over to the paddock fence, climbed up on it and perched on top before he took the sharpening stone out of the pouch on his belt and started to hone it. "You're what? Ten years older'n her? Don't ya think ya should give it a bit of time 'fore ya make it permanent?"

"But I'll miss her and I might lose her," Andrew protested weakly.

"If you're doin' this so ya won't lose her to somebody else, ya ain't good 'nough for her - she ain't that kind of girl." Sully tested the edge again. Finding it razor-sharp, he put his whet stone away, wiped the blade off on his shirt, and then used the tip to clean out from under his fingernails. He stole a glance at Andrew, who if anything, had grown even paler at the sight of him using that large knife for something so small. "This is out of fear?"

"Partially," Andrew admitted, fidgeting with the reigns.

"What else, then?" Sully asked, his eyes on his knife.

Andrew shrugged but didn't explain.

Sully flipped the knife over, caught the handle, and then used it to point directly at Andrew. "D'ya realize that a hurry-up weddin's gonna make people talk? 'Specially with her movin' away? They're gonna be sayin' things 'bout her morals an' character - that ya got her inta trouble so you're marryin' her right quick, 'fore she starts ta show."

Andrew's eyes widened. "But it's not true!" he protested.

Sully shrugged laconically and sheathed his knife. "That's what folk'll be sayin'," he said. "Wouldn't surprise me if'n it makes it inta the gossip column of the Gazette. Also wouldn't surprise me if somebody like Preston made sure your parents got a copy of it."

Andrew tied off the reigns of his horse and sat down heavily on the homestead steps. "Why would he do that?" he asked.

"Because Preston don't like me, and it will hurt me through Michaela. I been helping ta raise the kids since Colleen was six - some will blame me an' Michaela; say it's our fault she turned out like that." Sully hopped down off the fence. "Ya still need ta talk, I gotta milk th' cow." He went into the barn and resumed his previous task. Quickly and efficiently, he washed off the cow's udder and teats, and then settled on the milking stool with the pail held firmly between his knees. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Andrew enter the barn. Briefly, he wondered why the young doctor was willing to subject himself to more lecturing.

"It's not like you're her real father," Andrew protested with a frown.

"I'd love t' see ya tell Colleen that," Sully remarked. "You'd be lucky t' escape with your skin intact. And I am. Michaela and I adopted Colleen and Brian a few years back. Offered t' adopt Matthew, too. I helped raise those kids after their natural father abandoned the family. Never woulda come inta town after Abigail died if it weren't for those kids. Made sure they had 'nough ta eat when times were tough for Charlotte. Gave her whatever I could spare so the kids had shoes in winter and warm clothes." He started milking, sparing a glance at Andrew. "Weren't for me, they'd've starved t' death. Brought medicine when they were sick, too. Saved their lives more'n once. Family's more'n blood. If blood's what matters to ya, why didn't ya go ta Matthew?"

"I didn't think about it," Andrew admitted sheepishly.

"He's her closest adult male blood relative," Sully observed as he continued his task. The cow switched her tail and lowed mournfully.

"It seems like I didn't think about quite a few things," Andrew took his hat off and held it in his hands.

"What if she gets pregnant?" Sully asked idly. "Ya gonna make her give up her dream ta stay home with a child? Be a homemaker? Because all Colleen's wanted since she was thirteen is to be just like Michaela."

"I-I'm not sure," Andrew took a deep breath. "I've always thought a woman's place is in the home."

"Ya ain't gonna get that with Colleen," Sully observed. He stripped the last of the milk out of the teats he was working on and moved to the others. "At least, not without destroyin' part a who she is." He fixed Andrew with a glare. "Remember, Andrew, I was a sharpshooter durin' the war. That means I'm a crack shot, an' I can do it from far enough away that nobody'd ever know I done it. Ya ain't allowed ta do nothin' that'd hurt my little girl."

"I... understand, sir," Andrew muttered. "Maybe I ought to go talk to Colleen."

"She's sleepin'," Sully said curtly. "Case ya haven't noticed, it's barely dawn. I'm th' only one awake. Maybe ya oughtta come back at a more... appropriate hour."

Andrew nodded. "All right," he agreed. "I think I'll be going now."

Sully finished the milking and patted the cow's side. "Good girl," he said, picked up the milk pail, and then went outside to watch Andrew leave. He turned around as he heard the door open followed by Michaela's light footsteps.

She had a wrapper on and was shivering slightly in the cool morning air as she walked down the stairs. "I thought I heard hoof beats," she said. "I guess I was imagining things."

Sully went up the steps and put the milk pail out of the way before he opened his arms to her. She walked into them willingly as he wrapped them around her. "Ya weren't," he said. "It was Andrew wantin' t' talk to Colleen. I told him to come back when she wasn't sleepin'."

Michaela sighed and shook her head. "He should know better," she murmured.

"He shoulda known better than to not ask permission t' marry our daughter," Sully pointed out. "He shoulda known better than t' wait 'til I was outta town ta ask her on a picnic, too. Shoulda approached us 'fore he invited her out to supper." He pressed a kiss to her temple as she leaned into him. "Shoulda asked us for permission t' court her."

"I should talk to Colleen," she said after a few minutes of companionable silence.

"You should... 'bout weddin' night things," he agreed. "Just in case. I'll talk to her 'bout Andrew. I'll tell her the truth. That we're concerned. She's changed a lot in the past two years, and he hasn't courted her proper. She don't know him well enough to marry him right away. "

Michaela gave him a crooked smile. "Did you ask my mother?"

"I informed your mother. I asked Rebecca's husband. Asked 'fore I asked you t' supper in Boston. Sent him a letter askin' him for his permission t' marry ya 'fore I asked you." He leaned down and kissed her softly.

"We have an hour before the children wake up," her tone was inviting and a familiar light was in her eyes.

A slow smile spread over Sully's face. "I need t' put up the milk first."

Michaela kissed him, and then broke away to head inside the house. "I'll see you in a few minutes," she said as she went inside.

Sully picked up the milk and went back down the stairs and towards the spring house. Somehow, it would work out; he doubted Andrew would be marrying Colleen any time soon.

Finis... or is it?