A/N: Thanks for the great reviews! Excited to hear y'all like it...lots more to come! Also I hope people will listen to the songs I post in the chapter headings when I do-they are the songs that helped me craft the story, and represent something about it-so it's like bonus content! Although I won't hate you if you don't ;o) Enjoy!


Chapter 2


April 1st, 5:15

When I regain consciousness, I am lying on a stretcher in a dark room that smells very sterile, and there is an intravenous tube in my left wrist. I begin to panic, then I realize that I am not in the facility but rather in the infirmary on Utopia. I try to recall what has happened since I was incapacitated, but there is nothing. I wonder how long it has been. Then I become aware of steady breathing nearby. Straightening my head I see that Julian is asleep by the foot of my bed, his head near my feet and his arms folded underneath. I am surprised by his presence until I remember obtaining the metal prosthetic hands...and even more vaguely, my attempt at delivery. I wonder if he is using them.

My healing factor has returned. I feel somewhat restless, and so I strip off my IV, get out of the stretcher carefully and head outside, closing the door softly in my wake. It is dark outside, and there is a gentle breeze which makes my gown flap around me, but I don't mind. I head out to my usual vantage point at the cliff under the tree and sit down, to quietly observe the ocean. I had thought I might never see again during the last hour of the battles in the arena. Never have I been so uncertain of my own survival...so aware of how close failure lies in wait. Even though I have obviously rested for some time (by the position of the moon overhead I estimate an additional four days since my return were spent in unconsciousness) I am still tired. So I allow my eyes to drift shut.

In the morning I am awakened to the sound of the other students approaching me. They are making derisive comments about my person. I sit up and study them quietly, perhaps less conscious of myself than before. It is a strange reaction, considering that I am more vulnerable now; I am dressed in a green patient's gown, and I am keenly aware of how fragile I am, in direct contrast to the certainty of my nigh invulnerability that I had felt before.

Nori is there, and Santo, and Sooraya. Cessily is absent. Victor is trailing behind them.

"Speak of the devil," Nori says, suddenly noticing that I am nearby. "Look who finally left the hallway."

"He musta kicked her out," Santo agrees, then looks at me more closely. "Why the hell are you wearing a hospital gown?"

"Maybe her next assignment is in a nursery ward," she replies. "You know, for her super-secret killing squad thing."

"Please, stop," Sooraya says.

I get to my feet and head toward the women's dormitories to obtain my regular attire.

"JUST SO YOU KNOW X, WE'RE NOT FRIENDS ANYMORE!" Nori shouts after me, as loudly as she can. I do not respond, not knowing what to say. This is the second time I have had friendship retracted from me, and I do not even understand the concept. Do they no longer enjoy my company? What has changed? How, in physical terms, does one sever a friendship with a person they share a very small space with? Nori is my next door neighbor. She will have to see me almost daily.

After I have completed my errand (a quick change into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt), I decide to obtain nutrients. I pass the infirmary on my way to the cafeteria but stop midway, because Julian is shoving the door out of his way as he runs out. He spots me and skids to a stop.

"When did you wake up?!" he demands, clearly agitated.

"Last night," I say, noticing that he is indeed wearing the hands I had obtained. "Will they serve?" I inquire. There is a tense pause, and suddenly I am afraid that my entire week in Mojo's arena has been wasted. This is entirely illogical because, after all, he is making use of them.

"Laura..." he says. His face has contorted, and his voice is strange, as if he is asphyxiating, but I cannot see anything constricting his air passages. I crane my neck, trying to see if something has taken hold of him from behind, but there is still nothing. It must be an emotional response.

"Is something wrong?" I ask. Perhaps he is angry at my intervening in his affairs, my disobedience of his request that we sever our ties.

"Yeah." He reaches up and rubs his neck with his new hand, and looks down. "I don't deserve you," he says. "I don't understand. I told you we weren't friends anymore…and…well…Dr. McCoy told me exactly what you did to get these." He pauses. "He was really angry. He lectured me the whole time he was helping me get used to the hands…and he growled in my face."

I raise my eyebrows. Dr. McCoy is usually very soft spoken.

"I just don't understand you," he repeats.

"And I do not understand you," I say, as calmly as I can. "You are my friend. Why wouldn't I help you?"

"Because I don't treat you like a friend." He pauses. "Laura, what can I do to make it up to you?"

I am about to say 'nothing,' then I pause. An answer to the dilemma I had worried so much about before Spiral and the Arena has just presented itself. "Come with me to Logan's school," I say.

He blinks. "But that's not enough," he says.

"It will suffice," I say. "I have not left Utopia yet because you did not want to go, and if I do not go with Logan, I believe it may damage our relationship beyond repair." I pause. "I understand if you cannot do this. Your allegiance to the X-men is—"

"Fuck the X-men," he says. "Of course I'll go with you. Do you even realize what you've done for me? I have hands again. Hands. I can't even…I don't have words." He looks at me, and I flush slightly, feeling the usual pull…and I see him, somehow, responding. He takes a step toward me and is about to reach out and touch me with his hand when we hear approaching footsteps. They are quite heavy. We both stop, and turn to see that Logan is approaching us. He does not look happy.

"Laura," he almost growls. "We need to talk."

I sigh slightly. Instinct tells me that something interesting was about to occur between me and Julian, something that is an answer to the years of confusion I've experienced since meeting him.

"Wait!" he says, as I head toward Logan. I stop, and look at him again, in question.

"I'll be in the rec room," he says. "Come find me when you're done, okay?"

I nod slightly, turn back to Logan and note that he looks even angrier. "Get over here!" he snaps.

Logan walks for a length of time without speaking. His body language indicates that he is very displeased with me: shoulders tense, mouth twitching, hands flexing. The overall effect is similar to when had had learned of my joining X-force. I say nothing as well, following him down to the beach.

He leads me to a log near the shore, then gestures for me to sit down before doing so himself. With a quizzical look I do as requested. Logan looks out across the water.

"Never do that again, half-pint," he says, his teeth gritted. "Do you hear me?"

"Do what again?" I ask. I suspect he is not pleased with my disobeying Dr. McCoy's orders, but it is always better to ask for a full analysis of the situation.

"You know exactly what I'm talkin' about," he snarls. "You were stupid, Laura. Throwin' your life out on the line for that kid. You know he ain't worth it."

My facial expression changes slightly, and Logan pauses.

"Do you remember the fifth of November, last year?" I ask him.

"Refresh me," he replies, his eyebrows raised.

I straighten slightly. "I expressed my suspicions that your emotional connections to Rahne Sinclair were allowing the mission to be compromised."

Logan looks annoyed. "I dunno what that's got to do with anything," he says.

I am undeterred. "You told me that Rahne has two things we will never get back," I reply. "Hope and innocence. You told me that she is who we save, why we risk our lives, and who we die for. You told me this while holding me up against a tree with your hand on my jugular and windpipe in a gesture of subordination."

He looks down, unable to meet my eyes. "Kid, those were different times."

"Your advice was sound," I say. "I did not forget it."

Logan pauses, looks up again, a little relieved that I do not think badly of him for his actions. "I thought you didn't get it."

"Not at the time." I hesitate. "But now I think I do."

He shakes his head. "This is different, kid. Keller's always been a no good snot."

"You said we will never get back our hope and innocence," I say. "Implying that we once had both. If we did…why would he be different?"

Logan thinks about this, then gives me an annoyed look. "Stop using my own logic against me."

"We will come to your school," I say, relieved that I am able to say this.

His annoyance fades. "Good," he says for the second time today. "Glad to hear it, kid." He pauses, reaches over and ruffles my hair with his hand. "Just don't let me hear about you riskin' your life for him again, okay?"

"Okay," I say, smiling slightly.

April 1st, 8:22

A while after this Logan finally dismisses me and I head toward the Rec center as fast as I am able, pushing several people out of my way in the process. I would like to find out what it is that Julian was about to do earlier. When I arrive at the building and pull the door open, I look around the room and see him standing in the center along with several other of our friends. Or former friends, as they insist we are no longer affiliated. I head toward them with a questioning expression, sensing that something is not right about the situation.

"Oh look," Nori says, seeing me. "Here's Utopia's other cold-blooded murderer."

"Why aren't they in the cells?" Hope Abott asks, scowling in my direction. "I don't feel safe with them walking around loose."

Julian looks over at me, presumably for my reaction. His face is red. "What took you so long?" he demands.

"I—" I begin.

"Oh you know her," Nori cuts in. "She was probably off killing somewhere…or getting orders for her next hit. Maybe it's you!"

"Never know," Santo adds from the background.

"Let's go," Julian says to me, his teeth gritted.

"Where?" Nori steps toward me. "I have a right to know what you're up to. Who you're killing next. I have a right to defend myself."

"Cyclops has never asked me to kill any of you," I say.

"I guess we weren't important enough," Santo says.

"Not important enough to be told, or to be killed," Nori says. "What a crock of shit. We're supposed to be the next generation of X-men, but I doubt we'll outlive our elders." She points at Julian with her thumb. "Especially not with psychopaths like him around, killing our own."

Julian's eyes begin to light up, and he takes a step forward. "THAT'S EN-" he begins, but stops and looks down at his arm, which I have instinctively reached out and grasped.

"No," I say.

A moment passes. "You're right," he says. "They're not worth it."

"Look at that...he takes orders from the clone now!" Santo says, sounding amused.

Nori grins. Julian heads out of the rec room and I follow him, my lips set into a line of worry. I do not know how far he would go if he was angered again. Would he hurt his former friends?

"Thanks," he says, once we're outside. "I was going to deck Santo but I really don't need more heat right now. What a douche."

I say nothing. He stops and looks up at the sky. It is a clear night, and there are many stars visible since there are no city lights to compete. "Beautiful out," he says.

Again I say nothing. I watch him. I am uncertain of so many things right now that it is difficult to concentrate on the moment. To add to this, his presence is causing me to become increasingly anxious. I wish for a task, for something else to focus on. "Logan is leaving tomorrow," I say, my voice little more than a dry whisper. For some reason it is not cooperating. "At seven hundred hours. Make sure you are ready."

"Not soon enough in my opinion," Julian says, looking down from the sky at me. I feel my cheeks burn, and I drop my eyes to the ground. Why did I speak? Then he reaches out, and his metal fingers touch under my chin and lift it up slightly. They feel surprisingly warm and real.

"You can look at me if you want," he says, sounding uncertain himself. "I don't mind."

I swallow, and try to meet his eyes, but doing so causes a feverish sensation similar to what I experienced when I refused to remove my time piece in the future. This is an alarming association and so I look away quickly, afraid I am damaging myself. His fingers leave my chin. "Why can't you look at me?" he asks, sounding upset. "Is it my hands? It's my hands, isn't it?" His metal hands ball into fists at his sides. "I DON'T want your PITY, clone!" he snaps, his eyes lighting up and casting a green light on my face. "Why don't you just go inside with them and leave me be?"

My eyebrows draw together. I sense that remaining silent will only make him angrier, but I don't know what to say. After a moment, I think of something. "I have never felt pity," I say.

Julian raises his eyebrows. "For me? Or for anyone?" His tone is challenging.

"For no one." I pause. "No, that is not true. Once. But not for you."

"For who?" he asks, less of a demand now. He is curious. The light in his eyes has faded.

I hesitate. I don't want to tell anyone about Kiden's destiny. "A friend," I say, my tone soft. "She needed to die."

"You killed her?" Julian asks.

I shake my head. "Someone else did, before I could stop them."

His eyes narrow. "What do you mean, she needed to die?"

I look up at him again. "Please…I do not want to talk about this."

A few moments pass. "Okay," he says. "Talk about something else then."

"About what?" I ask.

He shrugs. "You pick."

My eyebrows draw together, and I look away, thinking, but no possible topics arise. I try to recall the conversations me and Megan once had, but they are unhelpful; she did most of the talking, and her topics would probably not interest Julian. I see his expression changing to anger again, and I panic briefly. I do not want him to leave, now that he is my friend again.

"The human body contains an average of six quarts or five point six liters of blood," I say.

He gazes at me, as if this is not enough. I feel ashamed of my lack of ideas, and I look down. Stupid clone, Kimura whispers in my ear.

"Don't you know anything but killing?" Julian demands.

I am afraid to say no. "It is what I am best at," I offer carefully. Animal, Rice adds.

"Maybe you should give me tips," he says, his lip curled.

"No." I shake my head. He smiles slightly. "Relax, I wasn't serious."

"Oh." I glance at him. "Why did you say it, then?"

"For reaction." He reaches out to me again and brushes a strand of hair out of the way of my face. "You never react to anything, you know…well, except me." A brief pause, and when he speaks again his voice is two hundred and fifty hertz softer. "I kind of like that."

"Oh," is all I can think of to say.

"Sorry I yelled at you," he says. "I get frustrated."

I say nothing. Frustration and anger is nothing new to me. It has been taken out on me many times. More times than I can count. His shouting is insubstantial compared to Kimura's beatings. And the chainsaw that she has recently acquired. There was also Rice's fists, and scalpels, and drills, and radiation machines...and the gun that Zebra Daddy used to press against my temple, whispering 'Bang' in my ear. And Logan's hand on my throat, the Adamantium bones and superior strength of his fingers crushing my trachea.

"I don't know you," Julian murmurs. "You're like no one I've ever met. I mean…you've been with us for what, two years now?"

I nod.

"I don't even know your last name," he says. "Or your birthday. Or what you're into. I just know you've killed people…and that you can be really weird sometimes…but there's something about you that I can't forget." He grins slightly, his metal thumb now touching my cheek. "No matter how hard I try."

My eyes widen at the touch.

"Relax," he orders, stepping closer.

"What are you doing?" I ask tentatively, stepping backward.

"Well…" he gives me an annoyed look. "I was trying to make a move on you."

"A move?" I wonder if he is speaking of attack, but that does not seem to fit this situation.

"You know." He closes his eyes. "Laura, if you don't like me...just say it so I can stop embarrassing myself. I have enough problems."

"'Like' you?" I have heard this before, from Cessily, in the Café before Kimura attacked us. She had elaborated that it was called a 'crush', and that she 'totally understands about having feelings for someone who doesn't necessarily return them'. She had looked sad, and now that I think of it, she must have been referring to Kevin Ford. I have spoken to her once or twice since on the subject when I found her crying in the locker rooms. She regrets his death, and I understand this keenly.

"Yeah." Julian's forehead is wrinkled. "Do you think I'm ugly now? Because of my hands?"

"I like your hands," I say, confused. "I nearly extinguished myself obtaining them. Do you...do you not like them?"

"I love them." He looks at me again. His expression is oddly vulnerable. I sense that if I say the wrong thing, he will be hurt. "I meant…more in a package way."

"A package?" I feel frustrated. I know I do not want to hurt him, but his language confuses me. "How are you a package?"

"Did the other kids put you up to this?" he demands, sounding angry again. I am failing.

"Up to what?" I ask, my tone also firm.

He grits his teeth. "Goodnight, Laura." And starts to turn away. I reach out and grasp his arm for the second time tonight. "No, please," I say. "I don't understand what you are saying. Why would I think that you are ugly?"

He pauses. "The fact that I'm not even a whole person," he says, bitterly. "You can't be this oblivious. No one is, unless you grew up in a barn eating hay."

I hesitate. "I grew up in a cell, eating processed food cubes…but how is that is relevant?"

Julian looks at me again, his eyes narrowed into slits. "…huh?"

My face feels hot again. "Never mind," I say, letting my hand drop. This is verging into uncomfortable territory.

But he seems to have gotten something from my comment. Perhaps it is something I did not intend to convey. "Wait…you grew up where again?" he asks.

"In the facility," I say nervously.

He raises his eyebrows. "The facility…the place with that psycho Kim-something, right?"

"Kimura," I correct, afraid that saying her name will cause her to appear. "Yes. But not in New York. Another one like it."

He reaches up and runs his metal fingers through his hair. "You mean…you didn't have a home?"

"No," I say. The cell was not a home. I understand what a home really is from the brief time I spent with Debbie and Megan.

"Okay," he says, sounding uncertain. "Did you go to school?"

"No, I was tutored," I say.

"What did your mom do?" he asks next.

"She was a geneticist," I say. "She designed me, from Logan's cells."

Julian looks confused. "But she…you know…had you? Like gave birth to you and everything?"

"Yes, but I was taken at birth," I say. "Our contact was limited." I feel increasingly nervous. I don't want to tell him how my mother died. No one knows this, except for Emma Frost and Logan. I bite my lip. "Please, I don't want to talk about this."

"But…" he pauses. "I need to know who you are. I had no idea that you lived there." He stops. "Wait, Kimura was your handler. You said that to me."

"Yes." I look down.

"She seemed like a real bitch," he comments.

I say nothing, but my eyes are now burning. I can still hear her threats as if she in front of me: "I'm never going to stop, never! I'll find Morales…your little classmates…your telekinetic boyfriend…I'll kill them ALL. I'll kill everything you love. The first person on my list is Megan. Do you hear me? That little bitch is FUCKING DEAD!

I can't see her but I know what she looks like: murderous.

"Are you crying?" he asks in astonishment, snapping me back to the present from my memory.

"I—" I reach up and wipe my eyes on my sleeve, frustrated with myself. Short of understanding my emotional responses, I should be able to at least control them. "No. I just don't want to talk about this. Please."

"Laura—" he reaches out again and helps me wipe the fluid off my cheeks with his hands, then cups my face. This is the most anyone has touched me since my mother, and I don't know how to respond. So I stand completely still, my eyes widening.

"I like you," he says. "I can't tell how you feel about me…but you're my friend, okay? And I know you want my friendship, at least. You can tell me things and I won't ever tell anyone else, I swear."

My nose has started to run. I sniff. "You told me we weren't friends."

He looks impatient, his lips curling downward by a few degrees, perhaps five on each side. "Just forget that I said that. It was stupid of me."

"How do people stop being friends?" I press. Perhaps he will define this for me. "I have heard that a lot lately…and I am confused. I don't understand what changes."

"Nothing, really," he says. "I guess…we just say it when we're mad, to make ourselves feel better." He rubs my cheek with his thumbs, still cupping my face. I realize that nothing is expected of me. I begin to relax.

"I wasn't angry at you when I said that," he continues. "Not really. I was...I was hurt that you never spoke to me, all that time...I mean, we live in the same place. And then I found out about what Cyclops made you do and I understood...but it still hurt...and I kind of thought you had enough to deal with, with all the others giving you flack about X-force…so I wanted to push you away." Pause. "I'm sorry. It was wrong."

I don't say anything, but he frowns slightly, closes his eyes and leans closer. For a moment I wonder what I should do, but I decide that nothing unpleasant has happened yet...so I don't move away this time. I stand still, and allow him to press his mouth against mine. My eyebrows draw together. I think this is a very odd thing for him to do, but I don't attempt to escape. And a second and a half later, I realize that I do not wish to escape.

It seems correct, somehow, like we have made some kind of connection between parts that fit. I am dazed, and disorientated, as if I have been drugged by an unseen dart. His hands have moved down my body, to my hips, and then to my hands, taking them lightly. The metal feels warm and very lifelike, except it is smooth, not textured like skin. Then he pulls away. He takes one look at my expression and frowns. "That bad, huh?" he asks.

I blink, then smile slightly. Somehow it is easier to meet his gaze. "No," I say simply. My cheeks are still burning but I don't feel alarmed.

He reaches around me and pulls me against his front, in an embrace. I lean my head against his shoulder and close my eyes. He rubs my back with one hand, and very slowly, I begin to relax.

"This should have happened a long time ago," he says finally, beside my ear. I wince slightly at the loudness, but at the same time it is interesting that my other ear hears it as vibrations through his shoulder. I say nothing, but I don't feel anxious about my silence right now. We stand for a while in the courtyard, until Loa and Viktor pass by and stammer apologies.

"What the hell was up with them?" Julian asks. "It's not like we were naked."

"Maybe we were," I say, not quite certain what I mean. He gives me an odd look, then shakes his head, as if he has not heard me right. "You said we leave early tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"Maybe it's bedtime then." He yawns. "I don't know about you…but I'm beat. This was a big day."

"Okay." I do not want to stop whatever we were doing, but I suppose it is the only way for me to see if it will happen again. I step backward, breaking our contact. "I will see you in the morning, then."

"See you," he says. He waves slightly at me, and I head toward the women's dorms. When I reach the hallway, however, I stop and alter my trajectory. I do not sleep well in the small metal rooms here on the island. They are too reminiscent of my aforementioned cell. I prefer to sleep outdoors, usually under the tree overlooking the ocean. The other inhabitants of Utopia find this strange, my sleeping outdoors. The adults have spoken to me with concern, and my classmates regard this as yet another reason to avoid me altogether...or to taunt me, as Nori and her friends do on a regular basis now. When I first came to Xavier's, such judgment would have upset me. I am no longer bothered by their opinions. I have seen enough of their own vulnerabilities and oddities to know that they are not perfect themselves.

I reach the tree and sit down, hugging my knees to my chest and looking out across the water. Then I let my eyes slide shut, and I begin to process this new sensory data that I have acquired. I think over and over of the sensations, the smells, the sounds…what he'd said…and I feel anxious, but a new kind of anxiety. I don't know what it is yet. Eventually I decide to regenerate, and my consciousness terminates.

April 2nd, 1:45

I awake very suddenly, aware that someone is approaching me. Raising my head from the grass, I sniff the air, my claws ready to emerge at any moment. Hopefully that will be soon enough if I am attacked.

But the scent is recognizable as Julian's, and I relax. Then I begin to feel concern. Why is he out here, at this hour? I am alarmed; I should have been in the hallway, standing guard. Constant vigilance, I scold myself as I sit upright. Coming to the tree to think was selfish and could have resulted in his death.

I study him, walking up the hill. He hasn't noticed my presence yet. His hands are in his pockets and his forehead is wrinkled, and every now and then he kicks the ground with his sneaker. When he is about ten yards and two feet away he looks up and sees me.

"I thought you'd be out here," he says.

I say nothing, surprised. He was looking for me?

"Couldn't sleep either?" he asks, when he reaches me and stops at my side. I gaze up at him.

"No, I was sleeping but you woke me." I rub my knees.

"Oh. Sorry." He sinks down to look me in the eyes. "Do you really sleep out here?" he asks, his forehead still wrinkled. I purse my lips. Does my disregard for the judgment of others extend to him as well?

"Yes," I say warily.

"Why?" he asks.

I hesitate. "I don't like small spaces."

"Oh." He pauses, then stretches out his hand and sits down beside me. "Nice view," he says, still looking at me. I arch my eyebrows but say nothing.

"You don't mind me being here, right?" he asks, looking out at the water now, his eyebrows drawing together. "I mean...I guess if you sleep out here then it's kind of private—"

"It is a public area." I lean back against the tree. It is confusing to be in his presence while I am still slow with sleep. Again I scold myself, for not being ready for an attack at any moment. Sensei Tanaka would be ashamed.

"I got to thinking about earlier," he says, his voice a little uneven. "And I—I couldn't sleep. It happened, right? I didn't just go crazy or something?"

"You seem to be mentally sound," I say after a moment. I do not want to tell him about my doubts, about my fears that he is losing himself.

He looks at me again. "I kissed you." A question.

I say nothing. His heart beat speeds up slightly, and he swallows, anxious about whatever he's going to say next. "And you liked it, right?" he continues.

I nod, slightly.

"So…what are we now?" he asks.

I am further confused, my own forehead wrinkled now. "What do you mean?"

"Well—" he twists so that he is looking me in the eyes again. "I don't want to pressure you…I mean, I know we just...it just happened. But it's been two years of us going back and forth and...and I just need to know."

"Know?" I ask.

"What us kissing meant to you." He swallows again. "Was it just that…or does it mean we're together now?"

I feel rising anxiety as I realize that nothing he has just said makes any sense to me. "I do not understand what you are talking about," I say carefully.

Julian shifts slightly, but he does not seem angry. He threads his fingers through the grass and bites his lip as he tries to think of a way to explain his question to me. I look down, feeling inadequate. If I were one of the other students, I would be able to comprehend things right away. Dumb clone, Kimura whispers.

I bite my lip.

"Do you want to do it again?" he asks.

I nod almost immediately.

"And is there anyone else you plan on kissing?" he continues.

I blink. "I have never considered it," I say, surprised by the idea.

"Okay," he says, seemingly relieved. "That settles it, I guess." He grins at me, quite suddenly, and I am fascinated; I have almost forgotten what his happier expressions look like. "You have no idea how good I feel right now," he says.

"Okay," I say, smiling slightly. "I am pleased to hear that."

His eyes shift over my face, as if he is studying me very carefully for a memory test later. I completed many of these as a young child. How many objects were in the room? Where were they placed? Did you see a red umbrella? A dog? A knife? Where was the gun?

"You're pretty," he says. I blink, pulled away from my memory, but when I analyze what he has said I do not know the correct response. He doesn't seem to be concerned by this, as he reaches out and tucks some of my hair behind my ear. I am pleased that I did not tie it back today. He moves suddenly, and his arm slides around my back. I stiffen in surprise and uncertainty.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"Relax," he says.

After a while I find this easier to do. We sit in silence for a while. My eyelids slide shut again and my consciousness is terminated again for regenerative purposes.