A/N: Going to give this a tentative shot. Caroline and Eleanor give me far too much happiness in the writing to put them on a shelf forever. I'm re-writing as I go, and it will be very very slow progress, I'm afraid. But Imagined 4 does wrap at Christmas, and I am a goal-oriented person. The happy ending will still be the happy ending, and it's not like I'm going to remodel completely, but there might be new and there will be revised content. Maybe this time the sex will be better. If you missed the first merry-go-round, this is a new beginning for Caroline post Season 3 that appeared a while ago and ended in calamity. But like I said, writing these characters brought me lyfe with a y, so I brought them back. Won't really be engaging on the reviews, though if you have a 'hey this is weird and not quite,' or a 'hey this resonated for me,' I absolutely thank you for it.

"It's not, not as if I remember very much. I mean very much at all from that afternoon. You understand of course?" Caroline worried a white tissue between her fingers until it tore.

"Yes of course Ms. Dawson."

"It's McKenzie-Dawson. We changed our names, you see. When we were…" 'It's really none of their business. Being gay. A lesbian. Married.'

What Kate was to her, what they had been. It wasn't relevant. Then again Kate was her wife. Was. Her wife. For a day. Not really anything at all. A day. What would anyone think of a marriage that lasted just a day? Not legitimate. Not real.

"When we got married you see, we changed our names. For Flora. For the baby. It's less confusing that way." She fished through the pocket of her camel overcoat for a fresh tissue and held it to her eyes in an effort to contain her mascara, then quickly dabbed her nose. She looked up and made direct eye contact with the police sergeant. Challenging.

"What I mean to say is that it would have been less confusing that way. People have a way of being easily confused." Her challenge went unmet as the close crop of his red hair remained bowed, studying the notes he made. Her wife and their relationship seemed of no concern to him. At least the wife part. Caroline thought it might. She wasn't sure if his indifference made her more or less upset. It certainly didn't make her less angry. She had so much anger, now.

She glanced away from the top of the sergeant's head and studied the hallway outside the office where she sat staring through the cross hatch of the shatterproof glass. The light in the police station was pallid yellow. Old incandescent bulbs in an old station in an old city that saw little crime. In a city that was supposed to be safe. Had been safe for all this time. That was why they'd moved to Harrogate, of course, the nice part, she and John, all those years ago. An academic purgatory but a quiet, safe city to raise the boys. A place where drunk drivers didn't knock down people's brand-new wives in the middle of the afternoon. A place where lives weren't destroyed by carelessness.

She turned back to the sergeant. "Is that all? May I go now?"

"Ah, yes." The tall young man in the dark uniform stood and turned with Caroline as she skirted the table, coat over her arm. She snapped her jacket back down into place and stalked toward the door. He met her eyes for a moment. "Sorry for your loss."

"Thank you." Caroline flashed him a tight smile, still challenging him to look away, which he did. She stepped out of the office and continued down the hallway, not glancing back. She walked with her head high, back straight, and heels clicking on the black and white checkered floor. A distracted administrator buzzed her through the outer door, where Celia waited.

"Are you really done? Have they learned anything new?" Celia rose as Caroline paused to dig through her purse and fetch her keys.

"I think I am done, yes. And no, I don't think I told them anything new. They have the people responsible. At least they believe they are. Responsible." She exhaled up through her thick blonde bangs and paused. She glanced back down the station hallway, remembering the first time she'd been here. The day Kate had died.

"Just closing things out, I suppose." She glanced back at Celia with no real focus. "Shall we go, then?"

"Yes dear. Are you sure you're quite all right?" Celia looked up, her perpetual look of skepticism always softer than Caroline's, but full of the same knowing.

"Yes. No. I don't know." Caroline pulled on her gloves, and lead them both out the door.

"Ms. Dawson? Ms. Dawson?" Caroline looked up to see the now familiar face of DCI Jane Hayden approaching. She'd been lead on Kate's case, the one to meet Caroline at the station, establish her claim as Kate's next of kin. A tall, fit, black-haired, efficient woman who seemed bright enough at her job but could never find her way clear to remembering Caroline's name. First or last.

"Yes, DCI Hayden?" Caroline could damn well remember the inspector's name. She favored her with a practiced, patient look, one she reserved for residents on the shit list asking for favors. Head tilted, keys in hand, coat and purse still crooked in her arm.

"Ah, yes Ms. Dawson. I'm sorry – Ms. McKenzie Dawson." She offered a nod to Caroline and a glance and nod at Celia. "I'm sorry to stop you on your way out. I'd asked Jones to ring me when you'd finished."

Caroline's mildly curious expression strained further as she waited for Jane Hayden to come around to a point.

Hayden scowled drummed her fingers on the hood of the stormy gray Jeep. "We have an update in the status of the case, and I wanted to make sure and tell you personally."

Caroline's expression stretched further as her heart hit her toes. "Yes?"

"Ah, yes, the people we've got – we've struck a plea deal." Tallest of the trio standing on the street corner, Hayden looked down at Celia and at Caroline. "The driver will be going to prison. For a while. The passenger has been granted parole. She wasn't strictly complicit, and she did assist us in the end. Gave us the full story."

"I see. Well then, that's good news, isn't it?" Caroline's smiled strained to breaking, her lips all but disappeared in an ever-thinning line. "Thank you, DCI Hayden."

The dark-haired woman stepped forward and offered her hand. "Of course, Ms. McKenzie-Dawson." It seemed her memory had improved. "And please, it's Jane. It seems I know enough about you that you might at least know something about me. Starting with my name."

Brown eyes met Caroline's blue. Kind eyes, always backlit, always encouraging. Reassuring. Caroline had not noticed that before. She'd not been noticing much, lately.

"And - my card, in case you need anything - at all."

Caroline accepted the handshake, a firm one, and the card, and permitted a bit of warmth and a bit of gratitude in her voice. "Jane it is. Thank you."

Jane Hayden turned down the sidewalk and disappeared into the precinct. Caroline blipped open the Jeep and kept moving. She didn't have any intention of talking about this any further with her mother.

Celia didn't offer any visible or verbal resistance to Caroline's silence.

"That's that, then." Caroline paused, glanced over her shoulder and pulled into traffic. Back to the house. Back to Flora. Back to a life she didn't want and didn't recognize, no matter how many days piled onto each other.