A/N : a short chappy, yes...But I kept my promise of updating tonight! This is the daddy dearest-part of the day. Tomorrow another part? Yay/nay?

Please tell me what you think?It would mean so much after these last two rough days I've had behind me.

XO


Sara walked into the motel, her cap pulled down her ears, hiding her face in the shadows. The last thing she needed now was to be recognized by some nosy man or woman who couldn't refrain from asking if she was really the governor's daughter and why she had let herself fall that far down. 'Drugs don't solve anything, sweetheart. I thought you were stronger than that.'

She had always felt the need to punch that kind of people in the face. How dare they judge her without knowing the whole story. Images of her, smiling next to her father, flickering on a tv screen didn't tell people squat about who she was. She had always forced those smiles to appear. The only real smiles she'd ever had after the age of 24 were the ones Michael-induced. He had become her favorite drug and when the drugstore was out of Michaeltablets, she got scared and retorted to...other thing.

"I rented a motelroom for you downtown," Maggie had said. "I suppose you want to clean up for a bit, right?" She'd nodded fervently. Not only did Maggie provide her with a solution to look decent for Michael – but she'd also given her an out for the visit of her father.

Maggie'd tossed a set of keys at Sara.

"Take my car."

"Maggie..."

"It's a crappy car – but it runs, and it'll get you where you need to be in time." She'd smiled warmly at Sara, who had gotten tears in her eyes because of this near-stranger's kindness. "go!"

So here she was, in a motel with red sheets and a matching color of wallpaint. She supposed it was being rented by the hour, but she didn't care now. Maggie had given her the time she needed so desperately. Sara looked at herself in the mirror, the faint light buzzing above her, and drew her hands over her face. If she wanted to look at least a bit presentable – maybe even pretty, like the heroine coming to save her man – she needed to work fast.

Clasping open her watch, she glanced at it, before placing it on the side of the tub. 12.17. Minus eight hours and forty-three minutes.

Letting the luke-warm water cascade down her body, she placed her hand against the tiles and leaned against it. One sob escaped and tore her body apart. The pain shooting through her body was normal, the doctor in her knew. You don't just stand up to save to love of your life and expect to have recovered from an overdose just like that.

Her hand reached for the bottle of shampoo Maggie had added to the bag and smelled it. Peaches. Sara loved the smell of peaches and the softness it brought to everything. She reminded herself to send Maggie a big bouquet of...chocolates when this was all over. Sara grinned. Maybe she'd send her some peaches instead.

--

As predicted, her father called her less than an hour later. She huffed as she read the caller ID. Wherever you went, there was no escaping Frontier Justice Frank. Maybe that should be his tagline for the new campaign : wherever you go – he'll know!

"Hello?"

"Sara, where ARE you? The doctors are out of their wits – you are causing a scandal, sweetheart."

She snickered. There it was again : sweetheart. Well, she had more important things to do this time than listen to his preaching. "I had places to go, father. People to see."

"Are y – Sara - This is outrageous! The animals you freed are on the loose now, Sara. Thanks to you, there are now a bunch of them raping, killing and what-not." What a wonderful pep-talk."Where are you – I'll pick you up."

"Dad, I'm a twenty-nine years old woman. I can take care of myself." She rolled her eyes in frustration. The thing of never having had a father around when you were growing up, means him still thinking you need to. To him, you're still the five year old he left behind on her birthdayparty to fly cross-country and have a cup of tea with a bunch of politicians.

His voice lowered, supposedly trying to threaten her. "You know, as a governor, I could have you traced in no time."

"As a father, you'd know that that would be inappropriate." She bit out, knowing he wouldn't care either way.

"My voters need to be assured that I can keep my daughter in line."

Sara shook her head sadly. "See if I care." She could only just destinguish the red button through her tears and pressed it in a hurry.

The phone rang again – and she let it.

--

Flopping herself down on the bed, Sara stared up at the ceiling. She'd gotten the phonecall with her dad over with, and his call had hurt her just as much as visit had. She believed that he loved her...somewhere deep down – but it had been forgotten and then over the years, dust had collected on top of it.

She smiled softly. Only an archeologist could find it now.

"My father was an abusive drunk who abandoned his family. I don't judge people because of their father's actions. Or...in-actions."

What was that saying? 'All the best cowboys have daddy-issues?'

Well... Howdy, then.

The tears welled up in her eyes again, and she closed them tightly to block them out. Little by little, her eyelids started to relax – and Sara fell asleep, while her voicemail inbox filled with outraged messages from daddy dearest.

And then another one, of a different kind. One message where a soft voice spoke to her - but she didn't listen.


So? Did you like it? Please tell me? Please? It would mean so much to me...

XO