Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman. The rights to those characters and to the show belong to the creators of the show, to CBS, The Sullivan Company and to A&E.
Colorado Springs: 80921
Chapter One
The sun had yet to rise over the suburbs of Colorado Springs, where lights could be seen dotting the neat rows of houses. The Broadmore neighborhood with its large sprawling front lawns cut into the hilly terrain just waking to begin their day. Built in the shadow of Pike's Peak, they were the most expensive and sought after dwellings. The grand two and three story homes were interspersed between pine trees that stretched to the heavens, giving the illusion of untouched nature. The inhabitants were doctors, lawyers and executives who enjoyed the gated neighborhoods that Broadmore had to offer. It was a safe, secure place to raise a family. The schools were excellent and even the wealthiest among them sent their children to the local charter school, known nationwide for its caliber of student.
In one such house, a shrill alarm pierced the air and Michaela rolled over hitting the snooze button before she made herself look at the time. Groaning loudly, she snuggled down deeper under the covers. The chilly winter morning wasn't appealing, and though she knew she had to get up, her warm goose down comforter tempted her to stay in bed. Sensibility finally won out and she slipped from her bed. The floor was cold against her bare feet as she stumbled into the bathroom, waiting a moment after she switched on the light for her eyes to adjust to the brightness.
"Close the door," Marjorie moaned from the next room.
Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Michaela made her way across the connecting bathroom as Marjorie threw a pillow in her direction. "Stop, I'm closing it." To irritate Marjorie, she slammed the door shut, smiling to herself when she heard her sister groan. After brushing her teeth, she pulled her hair up in a doubled over ponytail in preparation for her morning run. Now that she was more fully awake she returned to her room, pulling on sweatpants and an old tee. She crossed to her closet to retrieve her hoodie but found it missing. Quickly, she moved through the bathroom, throwing open the door to Marjorie's room.
"Close the door!"
"Where's my Dartmouth hoodie?"
"Why are you asking me – I wouldn't be caught dead wearing your clothes." She rolled over as she spoke, pulling a pillow over her head.
Michaela caught sight of a sleeve trailing out from under the bed and grabbed at it. "Then how did it get on your floor?"
"Go away!" Marjorie yelled as her sister left the room perturbed. She pulled the rumpled article over her head and grabbed her Ipod as she headed out the door. Gracefully navigating the wide spiral staircase, she untangled the headphones on her way down looking forward to running off some of her anger at Marjorie.
To her surprise the kitchen light was on and she looked around curiously as she entered finding the room deserted. "Dad?"
"In here Mike." He emerged through the garage door, carrying in the day's newspaper and setting it on the table.
"I thought you were off today?"
Josef laughed. "Mrs. Emerson's baby doesn't seem to know that." Michaela smiled at her father putting the first of the two headphones into her ear. "Be careful," he warned giving her a brief hug.
"We live in a gated community – what could happen? Besides, I'm always careful," she replied cheekily making Josef laugh again.
"Are you sitting for the Cooper children tonight?"
"Just until four. I should be home after that." She made for the back door, putting the other headphone in. "I'll see you tonight."
"Yes, tonight," Josef mumbled, already leaning over the morning paper as he waited for the coffee to finish brewing.
Michaela moved out onto the redwood deck and turned on her music before retrieving gloves from her pocket. The morning air was chilly and though she knew she would soon be warm, her mind drifted back to her bed. "No pain, no gain," she whispered to herself and began stretching her lower body. Their house sat at the top of a sharp descent, making it almost impossible to run slowly as she started out. She slowed her pace for a moment as she approached the end of her driveway and adjusted her head phones once more before depositing the Ipod into the kangaroo pocket. Last week's snow was just about melted and she felt a surge of energy as she realized her run would be easier this morning.
Turning left, she jogged along at a decent pace until she felt as if she was truly warmed up. She would have time to run the whole subdivision twice before she returned to the house. Just as the guitar rift began pumping in her ears, she picked up the pace lost in her own world. Mouthing the words as she moved along, she was unaware of a set of deep blue eyes that waited to catch a glimpse of her.
Down the street and around the corner from the Quinn house, Byron Sully stood at his bedroom window scanning the top of the hill. He knew it wasn't yet time but he liked to be early. As he looked around the room, he was still surprised to see his things – his posters on the walls. It was truly his room but it still felt odd, after all he had lived here such a short time. Sometimes when he woke up in the middle of the night, he thought he was still at the group home – the place he had lived only six short weeks ago. The Haydens had insisted that he should decorate the room to help him feel more at home here. Yet Sully was still cautious about referring to this as home, not wanting to get his hopes up.
Glancing back out the window, he caught the movement at the top of the hill and smiled. The first time he had noticed her was in school. They were in the same American History class. His foster mom, Julia, as she liked to be called, had filled him in on who she was and where she lived. It had been by accident that he learned about her running each morning. Waking from one of his nightmares, Sully had crossed to the window wanting to see the stars – the night sky always soothing him. At first he hadn't realized who it was but as she came closer he felt the familiar flutter in his stomach and knew that he would willingly get up early every morning just to watch her pass his house.
It was Monday so today would be the Dartmouth hoodie. She was predictable as the sunrise, wearing certain clothes on certain days. The long hair pulled up into a pony tail, bounced as she moved along catching his attention first. Moving behind the telescope, a present from the Haydens, he focused it on her face. He felt like a stalker watching her with magnification, yet it was simply borne out of a desire to know what it was that she sang along with as she passed his house each morning. Sully had always been a watcher, someone who carefully observed his world trying hard to make sense of life. Moving around as much as he did made him an expert.
Watching was not the only thing that came natural to him - lip reading was his second talent. It was out of necessity that he had picked up the skill. As a foster child, he often found himself on the other side of the glass while his future was discussed. That had been his training ground and sometimes he wished he had never learned. Yet now he was grateful. With his eyes riveted to hers, he mouthed along with her. "Twenty, twenty, twenty four hours to go… I want to be sedated." The Ramones again – he punched the air in victory and smiled over at his Ramones' poster hanging on the back of the door. They liked the same music – everyday for a week he had watched her – The Clash, The Kinks and today The Ramones. "You are full of surprises, aren't you Michaela Quinn?" he whispered shifting from his current position. A straight laced serious student, he never would have guessed that she enjoyed such music. Just knowing that they had the same taste in music, made her somehow seem more attainable.
As she ran out of sight, he moved quickly into the bathroom to get his shower. He knew he had exactly fifteen minutes before she would pass this way again. Catching his reflection in the mirror, he furrowed his brow. His hair was shaggy and long coming down over his ears. He had fit right in at the group home but here the boys wore their hair close to their heads, usually gelled into place. The Haydens had said it was his choice how he wanted to wear it and the school with its strict dress policy surprisingly didn't object either so he had kept it. Yet now he wondered if he had made the wrong choice. Maybe, he thought, maybe she would like it short.
Sully sighed loudly, shaking his head at his thoughts. He climbed into the shower after undressing, letting the warm water run over him. He knew that having Michaela as a girlfriend was simply a fantasy but he felt as if he was living in a dream world. Never before had he lived in the midst of such luxury. Foster care usually meant an overcrowded house, sharing a bedroom with two or more boys, clothing that was always handed down from someone else and more often than not - too little food. He knew from hearing other kids talk that some places were nicer than others – he just always seemed to end up in the not so nice ones, passed around and around since the age of ten. This time though, his luck had changed.
The Haydens were an older couple who already had three boys, the youngest one in his junior year of college. Julia had wanted to take in a foster child to give her something to do and to enrich the life of some poor soul. Sully only mildly cringed at being the poor soul she referred to. They had originally thought to take in someone younger, a story Sully was well acquainted with, but something about the blue of his eyes made Julia change her mind. The change for Sully had been utterly shocking – to go from a group home in the city to a three story house in the suburbs. The bedroom and bathroom were bigger than any he had ever seen and what was more – he didn't have to share them. Still he tried not to get his hopes up – it had only been six weeks and he knew that he could go back at anytime.
His foster dad, Charles, was a professor at University of Colorado – Colorado Springs where he taught classes in biochemistry. Both were so easy going and seemed generally pleased to have Sully with them that Sully wasn't sure how to respond. He was used to keeping to himself and staying out of the way but here he was a genuine member of the family who was even asked his opinion over things like what to have for dinner. The day after he had come to stay with them, Julia insisted on taking him shopping, forcing Sully to buy all new clothes as well as things for his room. Charles had taken him a day later to enroll in the charter school. Adjusting to the school had been the toughest part but both parents willingly looked over his homework, explaining difficult concepts if need be. He had never felt so wanted in his life. It was the small things – his name on the Windows log in screen, the basket of freshly laundered clothing that waited him each afternoon on the stairs, the telescope that they had bought him after he had told them about his fascination with the stars.
Snapping out of his silent reverie, he grabbed the shampoo and began to wash his hair, afraid he would miss her return journey. Quickly, he rinsed and then grabbed a towel to wrap around his waist. Still dripping water, he ran to the window sending droplets of moisture in every direction. He caught her a few seconds too late, she had already passed but he watched her back anyway reminding himself that he would see her again in class.
Hank lounged against the back bulletin board, Jake nearby as they looked around for someone to harass. "You and Myra gonna go to the Valentine's dance?" Jake asked.
"Probably, if she gets over this hissy fit she's having."
"Is she still mad about Marjorie?"
"Yeah. I could kill whoever told her that I gave Marjorie a ride home the other day. It ain't even like we did anything."
"I thought you said you made out with her," Jake spoke up looking doubtingly at his friend.
"Dammit Jake – say it a little louder, I don't think everyone heard ya. Only people who know that is you, me and Marjorie."
"Why don't ya take Marjorie to the dance?"
"She's already going with someone – says she doesn't date younger men. Man, she's hot though." Jake nodded in agreement remembering how Marjorie had looked on the back of Hank's motorcycle with her arms wrapped around his waist, her fiery red hair blowing in the wind.
Myra entered at that moment and they both snapped to. She moved quickly away from them, not wanting to speak to either of them.
"Myra," Hank called waving her over but she shook her head taking a seat on the other side of the room. "Jake, go get Myra."
Jake looked up at him. "Why do I have to get her? She isn't my girlfriend."
Punching Jake lightly in the arm, he made a face. "She isn't my girlfriend either, remember?"
Jake sighed and reluctantly started across the room, stopping in front of Myra's desk. "Hank wants to talk to you."
Myra turned to face Hank, speaking loudly. "Tell Hank to go talk to Marjorie Quinn."
Hank shook his head and cursed under his breath, before moving across the room. "Myra- we're just friends, I told ya that. She wanted to ride on my bike so I took her for a ride. 'Sides she's already got a boyfriend."
"Perhaps you should have thought about that before you made out with her."
Hank looked accusingly at Jake, shaking his head. "Fine Myra – if ya wanna play this game, whatever. You're the one won't have a date to the Valentine's Dance."
"That's what you know – I already have another date."
Hank looked indignant at this new information and he slammed his hands down possessively on her desk. "Who is it?"
"Horace Bing," she said with a wide grin.
"Horace? You're goin to the dance with Horace?"
"Yes, I am."
Hank let out a side splitting laugh slapping the desk in front of him. "You're gonna go with that loser?"
"You take that back – he's not a loser. I think he's sweet."
Hank bent his wrist over. "Yeah, real sweet," he said in a high pitched voice making Jake bust out laughing. "Ya two girls gonna be real happy together." With that he walked away laughing, Jake trailing behind.
Sully had watched the whole scene keenly, unsure of what to make of Hank or Jake. He certainly didn't like the way he spoke to Myra but he wasn't one to get into other people's business if he could help it. If he had touched Myra in anyway though, Sully knew he would have been unable to sit still. The classroom door opening caught his attention and he looked up, his face falling when he saw the blond hair.
Dressed in her cheerleading uniform, Catherine smiled widely and gave a little wave in Sully's direction. She flounced over to him, taking a seat to his left. "Hello," she said cheerfully sitting down and opening her bag. Sully watched with wide eyes as she produced a pink notebook with purple pages, a pink pen with a feather on the end and a pink cell phone. "Cover for me?" she asked.
Sully gave her a confused look. "Whaddya mean?"
"Block me so that if Mr. Graves comes in, he doesn't see me on the phone. Banned in school you know."
"Oh, right," he muttered moving to the side a little as Catherine ducked down behind him. He turned back to the door ignoring the excited chatter that was now coming from behind. The door opened again the basketball players falling into the room, laughing loudly and giving each other high fives. David stood out among them, tall and good looking, the height of popularity. Two others filed in after him and Sully smiled as he recognized Robert E, the one friend he had made at this school. Whereas David was the captain of the team, Robert E was their star player. Not tall but fast and furious as he raced down the court, making basket after basket.
"Hey, Sully, what's up?"
"Not much," Sully replied as Robert E took a seat beside him and looked around.
"Ya seen Grace?" Sully shook his head. Robert E smiled over at him. "She's probably with Mike."
Sully tried to look natural but could feel the warmth in his cheeks. "Probably," he said with a shrug of his shoulders.
As if on cue, the door opened Michaela leading the way into the room, with Grace and Dorothy following behind. "They travel in packs like hyenas," Robert E laughed. "Just try to get one alone to ask 'em to the dance."
"I thought you and Grace were dating."
"We are – I was talking about you."
"Oh…. I'm not planning on going to the dance – they really aren't my kind of thing."
"Even if Mike was gonna go with ya?" Robert E nudged him and stuck out his tongue a little.
"I'm sure she already has a date," Sully mumbled his eyes fixed on the group of girls as they settled in chairs nearby.
"Mike?" Robert E laughed. "I doubt it."
"Why not?"
Sully's question was never answered as Mr. Graves entered the room, an immediate hush settling over the students. "Good morning class – we seem to be rather social today." There was another round of murmuring and he raised his eyebrow at them questioningly. "School dance next week, huh? Always gets everyone in an uproar – who's going with who, who's dancing with who." He shook his head but his face was full of amusement. "Ah to be sixteen again." Smiling whimsically, he pulled out his notes. "Well moving out of the present and into the nineteenth century in America – today is the day I assign partners for group projects."
A collective mutter went up from the class but was silenced immediately when Mr. Graves looked up at them. Slowly he began reading off the names, the class suppressing groans and cheers alike as each was matched up with a partner. Michaela hadn't been paying attention because there was an uneven number of students in the class and Mr. Graves always let her work by herself. Having forgotten that Sully's arrival, right after Christmas, had evened up the numbers, she was surprised when she heard her name called followed by another name. Quickly, she raised her hand to protest. "Mr. Graves, I usually work by myself."
"That was before we had an even number of students, Mike."
"I don't mind working by myself," Sully volunteered fearing that Michaela didn't want to be saddled with him. She turned in her seat, instantly feeling guilty when she saw the look on Sully's face. She hadn't even heard the name – she was only railing against the fact that she would have to work with anyone.
"While that is a most gracious offer, Mr. Sully, I must say no. I am sure Miss Quinn will benefit greatly from working with a partner for once in her academic career." Michaela blushed horribly, dropping her eyes to the desk.
"She got dogged," Hank yelled out beating his fist in the air as Jake joined in with his laughter.
"Mr. Lawson that is quite enough from you or would you like to change your week detention to a month's worth of Saturday school?"
"You got dogged too," Jake whispered quieting only when Hank gave him a look.
"You'll have the rest of this period to read over the project with your partner and decide on your topic. I expect everyone to turn in topics at the end of the period. Remember ladies and gentlemen, this is relating the nineteenth century to the present. I don't need a verbatim reading of Encyclopedia Britannica – if I wanted that, I'd be teaching third grade. Critical thinking skills, people. Let's see if we can find some. Okay, pair up…. Oh and Mr. Lawson while prostitution was a part of the nineteenth century, that will not be an appropriate project topic."
"How about moonshine?"
"The Whiskey Rebellion, Christian Temperance Leagues?" Mr. Graves suggested.
"Teachers take all of the fun out of history," Hank moaned slapping his hand down on the desk. Mr. Graves laughed as the class began to move about. Sully rose picking up his backpack and took the seat that Dorothy vacated on Michaela's left.
"Sorry," he said as he pulled out his notebook.
"Why are you sorry?" she asked, her voice warm and welcoming. "I'm the one who should apologize… I was so rude. It's only that I usually work by myself."
"I understand." He smiled at her assuring that everything was alright and Michaela returned the smile. They held each other's eyes for a moment, Michael marveling at the shade of blue while Sully realized that her eyes were actually two different colors. Blushing once again, Michaela broke their eye contact, turning to look at the project paper that Sully had retrieved from his notebook.
"Well, I suppose we should get started. I was going to do the women's suffrage movement." Sully nodded trying to not show his disinterest. "I've already done a lot of reading on it and research, mostly for my own curiosity. We could use all of that."
"Yeah, we could do that but what would be my contribution?"
Michaela's eyes widened and she looked over at him. "You want to do something?"
"It's a group project, isn't it? Usually that means we are both supposed to do something."
"I know," she said sort of defensively. "It's just that normally if people get me as a partner, they stick me with all the work. I don't mind – I want a good grade so if that ensures it…" She blushed again. "I'm sorry.. I think I just insulted you again."
Sully reached over and touched her arm. "Hey, it's alright but just so ya know I'm not a complete slacker." He laughed as he spoke and was rewarded with an easy smile from Michaela.
"So I guess we should find a new project. Do you have any ideas?"
"Yeah, I do. I was thinking that maybe we could do something on the history of the Cheyenne."
"The Cheyenne?" Michaela asked doubtfully.
"Well yeah…like we could research the history of how the government treated them during the nineteenth century and then maybe do a report of the status of reservations now."
"That could be good," Michaela agreed. "It would be great if we could do some interviews with Cheyenne descendents."
"We can," Sully said smiling widely. "I got a friend, C.D. who is Cheyenne. I met him at the…" His voice trailed off as he realized what he was about to say.
"Where?" Michaela asked, her curiosity now piqued.
"That isn't important," he mumbled, his eyes focused on the desk in front of him.
Seeing that he was uncomfortable, Michaela let it go and pulled the project paper over towards her to fill out the proposal on the bottom. "I suppose we better make plans to get together and work on this," she said as she finished up the form. She reached in her bag and pulled out a day planner. Flipping through the pages, Sully couldn't believe how much writing was on each and every day.
"What's that?"
"My agenda…I kind of like to plan."
"I see," Sully laughed. "Ya gonna be able to fit me in somewhere." As the words left his mouth, he realized how they sounded and for the second time that day he felt his cheeks grow warm.
Michaela didn't even notice though, her mind totally consumed with the pages before her. "I am actually free tonight if you are."
"My schedule is wide open," he said flipping through an imaginary book in front of him.
"Are you making fun of me?" she teased, finding this boy in front of her thoroughly intriguing.
"Of course not," he replied innocently.
"We could meet at my house, I love in Broadmore over by…"
"Cheyenne Mountain.. I know."
"Where do you live?"
"Broadmore."
Michaela screwed her face up. "Really? I haven't ever seen you before. Did your family just move here?"
"Umm.. not really… I just moved here."
This answer only confused Michaela more so she continued to probe. "Where do you live?"
"518 Evergreen."
"That's the Haydens," she pointed out still confused.
Sully turned his face down and resolved to simply admit the truth. "I'm there foster child," he whispered making Michaela once again feel horrible.
She shook her head uncertain of what to say. "So I guess you could come over- say about 4:15?"
"Sure." The class bell rang just as they finalized their plans and they both began hastily stuffing things into their backpacks.
"I'll see you this afternoon, Byron."
"Oh… um… I go by Sully."
"Okay, Sully – see you this afternoon."
This story was really just to amuse myself but after I let a little owl read the first chapter, she encouraged me to share the laughs. I know it's out there and not really everyone's cup of tea but maybe a few people will find it funny- at least the premise anyway. Thanks for reading!!
