CHAPTER 1

"You sure you want to do this?"

"I'm sure," he confirmed, "what're you so worried about anyway?"

"You, you are what I'm worried about. We just got back yesterday, you have got a broken arm, nearly died, and now you want to throw a big party. Even you do need some time to rest and recover, Hawke. He'll be just as much four in a week or two."

"That's not all that's worrying you though, is it?"

"Well, no, but that's not the point; I think you need to take it easy. They'll understand. Saint John would probably prefer the sleep at the moment and Dom can appreciate it as well."

"But Chance-"

"He'll understand too. You as much as think it and he'll probably get it."

"Is that what this is about?"

"No… I mean, I've thought about it a little more lately, but it's not really that. We just go off and do things like what just happened in Iran and then act as if it never happened. It did happen though; you and Saint John both had a pretty close one, I'm sure Ellie's got plenty of questions since everyone just left her. Then when we get back, you two were supposed to be transferred to Van Nuys clinic, but I know you never went, and I'd bet money your brother didn't either. No matter how much you may want to, and I understand that much, you can't do everything you usually would at the moment."

"Cait, I'm know I'm not a hundred percent, and if I forget my body quickly reminds me, but I try not to dwell on that. Life is too short to worry unduly about things you can't change, I'm starting to learn that."

"You come up with a few exceptions to that thought."

"Of course," he agreed with a sly smirk. "There are always exceptions to every rule, aren't there?"

"Yeah, and you'd like to think you're the exception to all of them," she said, slapping him teasingly.

"And it's worked so far hasn't it?"

"You're getting off subject," Caitlin reminded.

"That was the point."

\A/

"Saint John Hawke, get back in bed," Ellie Mae ordered.

"I'm just getting a drink," he objected.

"You got shot, you were sick, and you thought your brother was dead. You need a rest and you aren't even going to think about going to that party tonight if you don't go lay down."

"I have to go, Ellie, he's my only nephew and there isn't any reason why I shouldn't."

"And you nearly dying doesn't count?"

"No, it doesn't. I'm recovering really well, and String is going to be there, He had a much closer brush with death than I did."

"How much closer, Saint John? You never did tell me the rest of the story. I'm beginning to think this is a case of he can so I can. He couldn't have come much closer and still come out alive."

"At least I didn't have a foot long piece of shrapnel sticking out of my back after bailing out of a failing helicopter at low altitude." Without waiting for a reply, he took the bottle of water off the counter and disappeared down the hallway without another word.

"Saint John, I didn't know," Ellie stammered, "How- how could I? Saint John? Listen, I'm sorry."

He didn't hear her thought, or more likely chose to ignore her.

She'd done it again. The two of them could have a future together, a good one, but that was only if they could keep from arguing long enough to get down the aisle. She'd learned her lesson last time though and knew not to make the same mistake she had in Da Nang. A one night stand with Mace Taggert and she had thrown away her chances with the man of her dreams. Now she had a second chance, and she wasn't about to lose him again.

Saint John needed his space and didn't like to be bossed around. After all, she was dealing with a grown man not her six-year-old son. If this was going to work, they were going to have to work with each other and stop fighting one another every step of the way. It may not be the wisest decision he had ever made, but he did have a good point - if String was well enough to go, he could probably handle it. And if worse came to worst, it wasn't like he hadn't ever collapsed on the couch for a night.

"Saint John," she called as she walked down the hall to the room she had been occupying until his recent return in need of more comfort than the lumpy old couch in the other room could provide. "I'm sorry, you were right. I didn't know what happened to String and you were obviously doing just fine before I came back into your life," she paused at the door. "This probably isn't the first time you've been hurt, actually I know it isn't, and most likely won't be the last. I was just worried about you, that's all."

"I guess I could use the rest still though, especially if we're going to be partying all night. I'm sorry too. I should've given more thought to what you were saying. I really do feel better though, a lot."

"Do you want me to get you anything?"

"Nah, I'll be ok. Just don't let me sleep too long. Dom is leaving the hangar at five thirty and we still need to get Chance a gift, so wake me no later than about four so I can help get ready, threaten the kids, that kind of thing."

"No problem. Until then, I'll let you rest."

She stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her, breathing a sigh of relief. That had actually gone remarkably well, unlike many of their previous altercations. This was thankfully minor, but she knew she couldn't count on that happening every time. Could they make it work, or had too much time gone by to bridge the gap?