Leonard set his PADD away and sat back "Yep, no doubt about it, she's an empath."

Spock hovered beside him, eyebrows drawn in confusion.

How'd you figure this out again?"

"I asked her how she was so sure the Admiral was no threat. She informed me that he is, quote, 'somewhat afraid of her.'"

The doctor laughed for a good long while about that.

"I'm not surprised. Terrifying lot, the two of you."

Spock raised one eyebrow but refrained from commenting.

"As empathic abilities are somewhat opposite of my own, is there anything I ought to do to assist her?"

If he looked real close, Leonard could almost see how it pained Spock to ask such a question. He smirked to himself but alas, sympathy was a curse of his.

"It's no different for her now than it was ten minutes ago. Usually we recommend trying not to get too emotional around the young ones, but," Leonard shot him a meaningful look, "that's not really something you need to worry about, now is it?"

Jane watched them, no doubt taking in their conversation though she seemed uninterested. She'd grown bored with the test early on and they'd failed to get an accurate reading because she had been determined to get a "one-thousand seven-hundred and one" on it, would not explain further, and began throwing questions in an effort to reach her desired score. Leonard had given her full marks when she succeeded. Spock did not mention this because he suspected she would be disappointed.

"Ind-"

A strange chime rang through the house in the middle of his sentence. It was echoing and melodic, and Spock had never heard it before. Leonard's head came up, incredulity crashing over his features.

"What was that?" Jane asked curiously.

"The doorbell."

Leonard's tone communicated his disbelief clearly enough that Spock felt it could count for both of them.

"-stopped answering my calls!"

The fragment seemed the end of a long rant and possibly the beginning of a second, as Spock observed the mustached Scotsman take a deep breath at the end. Fortunately for Ms. Rand, the woman beside him cut in.

"We just want to talk to him, see how he's doing. The trial starts next month, and he still hasn't said whether or not he'll be there."

"And he's hosting the winter ball here in two weeks. That's going to be tough." the second man added.

"Okay, okay, I'll call him."

The third guest looked over to Spock as Ms. Rand buzzed the Admiral on her personal comm unit.

"Hello." he greeted, keen eyes finding him out of place.

"What am I, chopped liver?" Bones chimed from just behind Spock.

All three looked over now and broke into smiles.

"Doctor! Hello! How are you?"

Leonard walked over to them, accepting pats on the back and a hug from the woman.

"As well as can be expected, I suppose. It was pretty boring at first, but now-" he looked back to Spock, specifically to the blonde head poking conspicuously out from behind his legs. Quickly he lowered his voice "which reminds me, as long as you're here you call him 'the Admiral' and nothing else, got it?"

The Scotsman gave him a long, incredulous look, then turned and strode over to Spock.

"Captain Montgomery Scott. These two are Commander Hikaru Sulu and Commander Nyota Uhura."

Spock raised his hand into the ta'al "I am Spock." he gestured behind him "And this is Jane."

Uhura and Sulu murmured their hellos, Uhura smiling for Jane, who was no doubt staring in wonder at their uniforms. Scott's reaction was most interesting. His eyes went wide for a moment before he regained his composure and returned the ta'al.

"Nice tah meetcha."

Ms. Rand turned back to them and beckoned them over, leaving Spock feeling unsettled.

When the Captain passed Leonard, Spock found himself watching a confusing non-verbal conversation which composed of: Scott, nodding at him and mouthing 'Spock?', Leonard agreeing with a shrug, then Scott muttering 'the Admiral?' in a way that implied he was more interested in the name than the man, Leonard throwing up his hands and muttering 'it's a mess', and a final, disbelieving, much more difficult to decipher twitching motion reminiscent of a seizure, to which Leonard didn't reply but still got a dazed reaction.

All this happened before Ms. Rand spoke to them.

"He'll see you. I'll warn you though, he's not in the best of moods."

"Aye, lass, he's got bigger problems than us to worry about." Scott replied as they were lead up the stairs.

When they were out of sight, Jane asked:

"We're having a ball?"

Jim took off his glasses and rubbed a hand over his eyes as Scotty paced the room. Everyone was already as wound up as a Klingon at a tea party, himself included.

"Ya can't just sit here and let them do this to ya! We saved the whole of the Earth - and not just then, mind you, that was what, the fourth time?"

"Sixth, depending on your take on a threat." Sulu chimed.

Scotty held out a hand sharply as if to submit Sulu to evidence.

"He's right, Admiral. We're all ready to stand behind you." Uhura added.

"If you'd just fight, lad-"

"I don't want-" Jim bellowed, then took a deep breath to calm down "to fight. The Admiralty made its decision when they put me under house arrest. It's all over but the crying."

"Jim." Uhura said gently.

"But it doesn't have to be." Sulu tried.

Jim laughed humorlessly "They don't want me there, haven't in years, and frankly I'm not sure I want to go back. I'm a relic from an age slowly dying out; giving way to newer and different things." he shook his head "It had to end someday. Now's as good a time as any."

"But it's not right, sir." Scotty protested. He seemed lessened, somehow, in the face of Jim's acceptance of defeat. They all did, and had, even the ones who were too loyal for their own good and left with him. It hurt a bit to know he was the cause, but if he was being honest with himself, it hurt more to know that Starfleet really didn't have a place for him anymore.

A leader is a dealer in hope, his mind whispered treacherously. Well, he was short of supply, but he could try to ease their spirits at least.

"I know, Mister Scott." Jim replied, standing "I know, but it's the march of progress, as they say."

He reached for the ornate bottle of brandy he kept on the mantle, grabbing four glasses with it.

"Now, let's not end this visit on such a low note. Tell me how things have been since I saw you all last."

They all shared looks, then slouched and settled onto the couches while Jim poured them drinks.

"You have to air out these old rooms!"

Spock paused in walking at the outburst. He glanced around in search of the source and, after turning the corner of the wing, found a cloud of dust drifting in the sunlight streaming into the hall from a room he had yet to investigate.

Cautiously, he approached the door. As he did, Ms. Rand stalked out shaking a few curtains in a way that seemed more cathartic than utilitarian.

"Ms. Rand." Spock greeted, somewhat dubiously.

"Oh! Hello, Spock." She lowered the curtains "Sorry about the dust. Honestly, if I wasn't here the Admiral would let this place fall into ruin."

Spock had to admit that she probably wasn't wrong.

"He does not seem overly fond of it." he replied, fishing.

"No, not that I can blame him." She sighed "It's lovely though, and it doesn't deserve this treatment!"

Spock suspected she was not entirely speaking about the mansion.

"I suppose not." Spock agreed, taking some of the curtains from her hands in an effort to help. She seemed drawn and tense, a strange look on a woman he usually saw attacking tasks with ingenuity and near-violent enthusiasm.

"Oh, this is all so-so-" She beat her remaining curtains angrily, disturbing another cloud of dust from the fabric "This trial, the house arrest, even moving the ball here at the last minute so all those people can come gawk at him - it's just awful! He's right; this isn't the Starfleet I signed up for fifteen years ago!"

"I'm sure. If I might ask, what is the Admiral on trial for?"

Ms. Rand swung the curtains around a bit in her outrage "The Admiral saved all of us - and the Earth, not that anyone seems to care."

"It does seem strange that they would confine him to this town for heroism."

Ms. Rand's eyebrows drew down, her lips forming a tight bow as she continued.

"He...broke a lot of rules doing it. Stole federation property, insulted the Admiralty, and maybe bent the temporal time directive a little. But no one got hurt! If it wasn't for him there wouldn't even be a Starfleet anymore!" Rand was reddening in her anger "They all sat on their hands not doing anything, waiting for death, hoping someone might save them at the last minute, and when someone finally did they didn't even wait for the oceans to stop boiling before putting him on trial for it. They left him on active duty on the website because they know people would riot if they found out. Ooooh, it makes me so mad!"

"I see." Spock asked, though he was reasonably sure he really didn't at all. "Is there cause for us to be concerned, should he lose?"

"No." Ms. Rand snapped, then deflated "I mean...you'll be fine, Spock, he'll make sure you and Jane are taken care of, but if he doesn't..."

She shook herself and straightened, balling the curtains up to carry it easier and reaching for the stack Spock had taken to do the same with it.

"I'm sorry, Spock, I shouldn't have unloaded all this on you. Don't worry about it too much. I hope you don't mind, I have to go - I have a party to plan." she offered him a bright smile and was off, calling back over her shoulder "I think you might like that room."

Spock tilted his head after her retreating form, wondering how she might have decided he had room preferences and what they were. Purely out of curiosity for the human condition, Spock looked inside.

The room was quite stunning. White marble floors gave way to white-painted tin walls, set wide apart to make the room feel large. It seemed a studio of sorts. One wall that was pressed up against the garden was made of glass, letting light stream into the room, thin strips between tall sheets casting the occasional shadow over the white grand piano that sat nearby, lifted slightly off the floor by a simple wooden platform.

Spock found himself drawn to it. He stepped into the room; the soft echo of his footsteps amplified by the acoustics, and made his way over to the piano. Thin gold designs ran ornately up the legs and along the case. It seemed somewhat protected from the dust Ms. Rand had been attacking so harshly and he wondered if one of the curtains had actually been a cover.

He slipped around to the front where the sunlight was strongest and, with practiced care, tested one of the notes.

The sound rang out perfectly in tune, echoing through the room before trailing off. Spock was impressed - it was a finely made piano indeed. It had been many years since he'd been so close an instrument of any kind, let alone had the opportunity to use it. Not since the mastery. In fact, the last time he had played was for Jim.

Feeling nostalgic, he settled on the bench and set his fingers on the keys.

Jim felt tired. Scotty, Uhura and Sulu had finally left, but not without another plea for him to 'just think about coming' when he'd walked them to the door. He passed Janice on his way back to his floor, so passionately conducting her army of workers to ready the place for the ball that she failed to notice him as he slipped by. It was partially by design - he was in no mood to chat with anyone, least of all the crew who were losing their careers because of him. He winced at his own thoughts and would have turned back to say hello had she not been suddenly engulfed by the frantic decorating staff. Guilt could only make him face so much, so he edged away and continued his trek.

He was almost to the stairs when the sound of barely-there music turned his head. Down the hallway, one of the double doors to the piano studio was ajar. There was no way one of the staff had time to play right now, which left one person who could be the source.

Against his better judgment, Jim crept down the hall towards the room.

As he neared the door the notes of a familiar melody took shape. Rhapsody, Jim identified, with a rush of warmth so strong it nearly knocked him over. It ached to hear it again after so long but Jim couldn't have left if Janice's army had tried to drag him from the spot. He hovered behind the one closed door, listening, as enchanted as he had been the first time.

He'd forgotten, somehow, just the way the song sounded when Spock was at the keys, drifting wistfully from one chord to the next, a harmony that pulled feelings it had no business with to the surface.

Jim could picture him: his eyes unfocused if they were open at all, sheet music forgotten as his long, slender fingers danced with practiced grace over the bars of a song he knew by heart. Jim didn't need to imagine the concentration on his face or the slight part to his lips because he'd seen it before. Jim closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall, thinking of the first time he'd heard Spock play the piece, back at the academy, on another day in another empty, sunlit room in Dubai, standing just outside the rays of light at the back of a piano, enchanted, just as he was now, and falling in love.

With every delicate note he fell back into the memory, to a smile playing on Spock's lips, and not noticing when he leaned to heavily on the piano and it started to dig into his side, and to knowing, in that moment, that he was gone on Spock and always would be.

He'd come around on the final notes of the song to sit beside Spock on the bench, so close he could feel the inhuman heat of him as he played, and when the music faded into the air Spock had turned to him. For an infinite moment they were lost in each other, and though not even their hands touched on the bench Jim was hard pressed to say he'd ever felt closer to someone. He hadn't kissed Spock the way he had wanted to, but it was the moment when he knew Spock would let him if he tried.

The song was a beautiful, melodic string linking them together, and linking them to the past. He lost track of the present as the sound flowed over him, wondering if Spock was remembering the same day as he played.

Slowly, the notes wound down and trailed off. Jim hung on the vibration of the last chord as though it was the very last he would ever hear. Even the silence after it didn't seem empty.

Then someone started clapping.

It was so loud and so near that Jim jerked back against the wall hard enough to hit his head. His eyes snapped open to find Jane standing in the open doorway, smiling excitedly.

"That was very beautiful, father." she said, serious words in contrast to her expression.

Jim flailed a bit, hoping that Spock hadn't heard him hit the wall, and she looked at him. He pressed a finger to his lips.

Jane, apparently well used to this game now, proceeded to ignore him completely.

"I didn't know you knew how to play." she said.

There was a pause, as though Spock was as surprised to see her as Jim was, before he replied.

"I have not had the occasion in many years."

Jane skipped inside and Jim took that as his que to sneak away.

"Can I learn?"

"Of course."

Just before Jim ascended the stairs he heard the careful notes of a beginner and smiled.

"This isn't what you were playing." Jane stated.

"Rachmaninoff is somewhat advanced material. It would be best if you learned the basics first."

"But I like that song. I know it."

He tried to think of a time when she might have heard the tune and found he could not. But there had been times in her life when he was not present, he supposed.

"There are many others I'm sure you would like just as much."

Jane hit the first few keys of the song in defiance, then returned to practicing the sets Spock had shown her. Spock raised his eyebrows a bit and resolved to increase the pace of his lesson plan.

"Ms. Rand says the party is a mas-qu-raid ball." Jane said suddenly.

"Is it?" he asked, wondering when in the last hour she'd made that decision.

"I believe we will be expected to remain in our rooms."

For another few minutes, the silence was only interrupted by Jane's hesitant key-pressing, her attempts to hide her pout admirable.

"If I get as good as you, will the Admiral come listen to me play?"

Spock, in the process of adjusting her hands on the keys, paused.

"Why do you ask?"

Jane shrugged, a human gesture she had picked up since arriving at the citadel. One he had seen several nights ago in near mirror perfection from their host.

"He came to listen to you play."

Jane returned to the keys, found one that seemed of great interest to her, and played another two bars of Rhapsody. Spock attempted to keep his tone level when he spoke again.

"Did he?"

She nodded, methodically hitting each key in order now.

"He was behind the door. Adult hide-and-seek takes a very long time." She observed.

Unbidden, Spock's gaze snapped to the empty doorway. Illogical, he would not still be present if Jane was liable to reveal him.

"Indeed it does." Spock agreed.

"And another thing."

Leonard slapped down a fat folder onto the coffee table in his rooms.

"I can't make heads or tales of this. As far as I can tell, either Jane shouldn't exist or one of these other attempts should have taken hold. I'd need another residency if I wanted to get more than that."

M'Benga, who had a temperament forged in long days dealing with vulcans, sipped his tea behind Jane's test results.

"Hmm."

Leonard had to resist throwing something at him to make him address the pile of papers and unanswered questions on the table. M'Benga had come up from his clinic in town to join the visit with the crew and it seemed a good idea get an second opinion on this new empathic development. Except the last time he'd seen the other doctor, neither of them had a copy of Spock's medical records. Now Leonard realized that not only was "vulcan physiology" a damn lie because it was 50% physiology, 25% witchcraft, and 15% psychic mysticism and 10% secret, but that Spock, much as the man was loathe to admit it, wasn't a vulcan and his body had seen fit to take the 50% of that concoction that Leonard wasn't trained in. And there was a part of him that was afraid he'd accidentally kill Spock because of it. So he'd resorted to pestering M'Benga for a few hours over the finer points of mediumship.

"Well?"

"Well what?" M'Benga lowered the file and surveyed the papers once before looking back at Leonard. M'Benga had seen Spock's file first, read the thing cover to cover and had yet to offer his thoughts on it. Leonard was done waiting.

"Any ideas? Are they able to control when it happens and when it doesn't?"

M'Benga leaned back on the sofa and shook his head. "No, not to the extent that these results show. Normally, yielding is as fallible as pregnancy. Plenty of vulcans are bred this way in the trade and that is what leads to the high rates of parental rejection. The surest way the traders have found to produce a sparked child - what they call them - is to have a vulcan take down all of another's shields and drag their katra as close to the surface as they dare. Having their shields torn away is damaging. I imagine that was what caused the scarring in Spock's brain."

Leonard sat on the other end of the couch, giving M'Benga his full attention "None of that sounds good, J, but none of it makes a lick of sense to me either. I'm a doctor, not a psychic."

M'Benga shrugged "To put it simply, they failed to see that Jane is the anomaly, not the failed attempts. Spock should never have been able to conceive a child through any means, and the reason he did even once must be determined before one can make any attempts to duplicate the results."

"You have a theory on that?"

"No. I have unconnected information. I know that the body is an extraordinary thing that often defies quantification. The vulcan body in particular can be incredibly resilient and stubborn when it so chooses - and I know that the human body can occasionally be even more so. Couple these together, as you must in this case, and perhaps it was enough for Spock's katra to take on a mind of its own. Tell me, Leonard, did they ever make you read about people who, by will or dumb luck, were so focused on their tasks or survival they failed to notice grave injuries?"

They didn't need to, Leonard though, remembering all the field triage he'd done over the years. "A few times."

"Miraculous how we are able to overcome our own physiology, don't you think? Just because we have things that are more important to us."

"Yeah, but those are stop-gap measures based in instinct. It's beneficial in crisis situations to not notice that you should be in shock and agony. It'd be more beneficial to re-grow a limb but that doesn't happen just because the body wants or needs it to."

M'Benga steepled his fingers, looking ahead in thought as he continued "But it's not a body we're dealing with, per se. No physical part of the parent is responsible for creating the child. In theory, they don't even need to touch the other person to start the process - Spock could have been forming Jane for weeks before they were separated, assuming his katra made contact with whatever we humans have in its place. Energy is simply gathered and stored until eventually a new katra manifests and that energy is used to make a body for it. It is entirely a process of the spirit; and therein lies the mystery factor, I believe."

Leonard sighed and rubbed his forehead "It makes no damn sense. I'm trained in tangible science, biology. Things you can touch and measure. And then vulcans come out with this intangible katra business. How the hell am I supposed to heal something I can't so much as take a reading on?"

"That is precisely why the practice is honored, since it has always been, for the vulcan people, proof of the existence of the soul."

He stood, setting Jane's file on top of Spock's.

"She's quite talented. I'm guessing you've already started thinking about getting her some training to control her empathy, so I'll refrain from suggesting it. From what I can tell they're in perfect health. Anything further-"

"We wait and see." Leonard scowled at the files. Doctor or no, he hated wait and see as much as anyone else.

M'Benga chuckled a bit "You're a galactically renowned doctor in frontier medicine. If anything happens you'll figure it out."

"I know that." Leonard snapped, climbing to his feet "And I think you mean when anything happens. Jane almost fell off the roof the other day."

"She is his daughter."

"She's the daughter of both of them. If you got to know Spock you'd know why that's even worse."

He scooped up the files to lock them in his desk while M'Benga gathered his coat.

"I should head back into town."

"Jim'll want an update on JaneGate. I'll see you to the door. And thanks, J."

"Any time."

"An empath?" Jim asked, smiling slightly.

"Yep, and a pretty strong one too. It makes sense as long as you don't look at it too long. What do you get when you mix you with a vulcan telepath? Actual, quantifiable abilities, that's what." Bones rolled his eyes "Then you try to work out where the hell that bit of genetic code came from and it all goes straight to hell and either has you believing in god or the devil, depending on perspective."

Jim laughed, holding his glass up in a toast to that.

"About what Scotty and the others came to say-"

Whatever he was going to add was cut off by a soft thump from behind the bookcase. Jim was inordinately glad for it, if very confused. He looked at Bones and they raised their eyebrows at each other.

"Don't look at me, I'm a medic." Bones said, tossing back his own drink.

With a small smile, Jim pushed himself out of his chair and walked to the offending bookcase. Already pretty sure he knew what he'd find, he pulled the wall scone beside it down and let the frankly ridiculous secret passage swing open.

Jane seemed to find this incredible, at least, given the way she was staring at it in wonder.

"Hello, Jane." Jim greeted.

"You have a real secret passage!" she announced.

"Yes, it was designed so that the king could escape in the event of an invasion." Jim agreed, helping her to her feet. "Are we under attack, or were you just testing to see if it still worked?"

"Oh, I wanted to ask you if father and I could come to the ball."

Jane let him set her on her feet and dusted herself off.

"I'll leave you two-"

Jim held up a hand quickly to stop Bones from leaving. "Please stay."

Bones raised an eyebrow, but settled back in the chair. He poured himself another drink and seemed to be getting ready for a show.

Jim ignored him and put his hands on his hips.

"And why do you want to go to some boring masquerade ball?" he asked.

Jane locked her hands behind her back and stood up perfectly straight, apparently ready for the question.

"I've never been to one before, and since the higher ranks of Starfleet are holding it I think it would be a useful cultural experience."

Bones snorted behind him.

"Well, I guess you're right." he smiled "But is that really the only reason?"

Suddenly Jane became very interested in the carpet.

"I've never been to a party before" she muttered "and I have all those nice clothes now."

"Ah." Jim nodded sagely "When you put it like that, I suppose you have to go."

Jane's head came up sharply, a smile breaking across her face.

"Really?"

"Oh absolutely. I can't let it stand that a wonderful girl like you hasn't been to a party."

Jane's smile reached blinding levels of brightness in the instant before she flung herself at Jim. Jim made a sound a bit like an 'oof' even though she weighed about as much as a feather pillow, hands hovering over her shoulders as she hugged him.

"Thank you!"

Jim tried to calm the racing of his heart, unsure how this turn of events had come about and a bit in wonder over it. Gingerly, he set his hands on her shoulders.

"You're welcome." he said, quieter than he'd meant to.

A second later she drew back and surreptitiously looked around the office. Jim huffed a laugh when her eyes caught on his mantle.

"Is that one of the blue seashells you told me about?" she asked, taking a few involuntary steps towards it.

Jim picked it up and held it out to her.

"It is. You can still hear the roar of the Kla-tha if you put it to your ear."

Bones was watching them over the back of the chair, his eyes suspiciously glossy "Shouldn't you be careful with that? It was a gift from a Queen."

Jane, who had been pressing it to her ear excitedly, turned big eyes on Jim.

Jim flapped his hand.

"It's not that big of a deal."

"You said you only met her once!" Jane declared, clearly betrayed.

"I did!" Jim held up his hands "At a ceremony where they thanked me for fixing their water shortage. It was a simple thank-you, that's all."

Jane and Bones actually shared a look, which Jim thought was unfair.

"If you want the real story, you should come down to the infirmary. Chapel and I won't leave out all the good stuff." Bones informed her.

"No, you'll just make me look bad."

"You do that all on your own."

Jane giggled at them, carefully setting the seashell back where it came from. It was almost too high for her, causing her to knock a book down as she did. Jim caught it before it could hit the floor. Jane at once looked guilty and took immediate interest.

"Sorry!" she said to the book.

Jim held it in his hands for a moment before turning it to her, showing the cover's swirling inscription of 'A Tale of Two Cities.'

"This one's too special for the library." he said, putting it back.

"Why's that?" she asked, watching it.

"It was given to me by someone I love."

"Oh." she looked at it for another moment before moving on.

"Who's that?" Jane asked, pointing to a picture. Jim turned it so the glare from the lamp didn't obscure the image and saw himself, younger, and Gary. Gary had his arm slung over Jim's shoulders, a mischievous grin on his face, while Jim looked fractionally alarmed. He was such a geek back then. If he remembered right, it had been taken the same week Gary had dragged him to the mastery and he'd met Spock.

"That's Gary Mitchell. He was a friend of mine."

Jane tilted her head at him.

"Was?"

Jim nodded and righted the picture.

"He was killed on a mission. Space is as dangerous as it is incredible, unfortunately."

Jane was quiet while she processed this.

"Did you see a lot of people die when you were a Captain?"

"I...don't know if I should say."

"I saw someone die once."

Jim's heart skipped a beat. He shot a glance at Bones, who was frowning now and had his doctor face on. "Who...?"

"Nana T'Pol. She took care of me when d- when father was ill. We were leaving, but someone saw us and she got hurt."

Jane frowned and Jim waited, expecting more and giving her his full attention. The auction house had warned him that Spock was suspected in an escape attempt made the night their former master had been poisoned. He was beginning to think he should read the report, given what Spock had hinted about the poison's source.

"Was Gary happy when he died?"

Jim thought of it, the last moments when he was Gary again and not possessed by power. "He...was at peace. I don't think anyone is really happy to die."

"Nana T'Pol was. She was always sad, but when she was dying she was happy." She looked down, scuffing the carpet with her feet. "Father is sad like that too."

She didn't finish the thought, but Jim heard it loud and clear. He set a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently.

"It sounds like your Nana had lost a lot." he said "Sometimes, when someone loses too much, it becomes a kind of sickness in their heart. If it gets too bad then...death can bring a kind of serenity. Do you know if anyone took her katra?"

Jane shook her head, brushing the scraggly ends of her hair over the back of Jim's hand. "She wouldn't let daddy take it. She said she wanted to go where humans do."

Whoever this woman was, his heart went out to her. He hoped she'd found her peace.

"Ah." Jim said eloquently.

"She hadn't lost everything though" Jane frowned "Nana had us."

"And I know that helped her. But sometimes there's nothing anyone else can do. Your father's not one of those cases." he made sure she was looking at him as he continued. "He's not going to leave you, Jane. He loves you too much to ever be happy about that."

Jane nodded. Jim could tell she was unconvinced. He drew her over to lean against his side and looked at the picture with her.

"I'm sad too, aren't I?" Jim asked softly, and she nodded again "As a fellow sad person, you can take my word for it."