When they were done at the Radcliffe, having been checked over and Lewis's hand having been patched up, Lewis borrowed James's phone to call Lyn. He wished her happy Christmas and assured her he was fine. That was true for the moment anyway, even if it gave the false impression that he had been fine all along. He also told her he had turned off his phones to ensure a nice lie-in, and had forgotten they were off. This was pretty much complete fabrication, but he didn't want her to feel guilty about having had to work through the holiday.

James placed a quick call to Laura. "Hi, it's me. Just thought you might want to know Lewis is fine. He, um, let me in no problem and I think his mood is improving."

Lewis was watching James intently to see just how he framed the situation.

"What do you mean, 'fine'? He's sober? or drunk but not dangerous? You're being purposely vague, James, I know when you're being evasive." She was certain James was deliberately concealing something unpleasant.

"Well, at this point, he's acting pretty sober, though I wouldn't put him behind a wheel. And he's already made a funny so he's not totally doom and gloom. Do you want to talk to him?"

Lewis was shaking his head.

"Yes, I'd feel better if I could." Hathaway handed the phone off to Lewis.

"Happy Christmas, Laura. If you scold me, I'll hang up."

That made her smile. It seemed James was right. "Happy Christmas, Robbie. You sound cheerier than I expected."

"Well, you're just too pessimistic. I can hold me own head above water, y'know." This drew a loud snort from James. Just then, the hospital pager called for a Dr. Singh to go to the sixth floor. Twice.

Laura's end of the phone was ominously silent. Finally,

"So, just what are you two doing at the Radcliffe if you're so 'fine'?"

"Um . . . I, uh, fell in the canal. James helped us out. They're just checking for hypothermia. But we're fine, really."

"But you weren't going to tell me that? Or you just forgot?"

"I was afraid you'd come to the wrong conclusion. It was just an accident. Really."

"I'll have to take your word for it, I'm sure James will back up your story whether it's true or not. I'm glad to hear you're safe Robbie," she added more quietly. Then, "Put James back on a second, okay? Bye."

Lewis handed the phone back to Hathaway. "Yeah, it's me."

"I know you both well enough to tell you're covering for each other. This wasn't just an accident accident, was it?"

"You do know us pretty well."

"Are you staying with him?"

"Yeah, I think so. Haven't gotten that far yet." Lewis was looking at him closely.

"Okay, I'll call Kershaw so he doesn't come 'round tomorrow. Tea, only, James! And water. He's bound to be dehydrated. And make sure he eats something solid."

"Yes'm." James answered in a way that could be interpreted as either "Yes, ma'am," or "Yes, Mum."

Laura frowned a little. "Seriously, James! He's very good at faking 'fine,' okay? Years of practice under grueling conditions. Especially watch it if he's being funny. Don't let him out of your sight until you're absolutely certain. Better yet, don't let him out of your sight until I sign off on it, personally, okay?"

"Laura!" James turned away from Lewis a bit and said very quietly, "I care about him, too, you know."


The two men headed for the hospital exit. Hathaway noticed Lewis still a bit wobbly on his legs. Not as sober as he had appeared.

"Share a taxi?" James recognized Lewis's question as code for, So what happens now?

"Sure." A pause. "Well, I thought I'd come by for a little Christmas cheer, if that's alright."

"Ah, no, James. You get on home. I'll be okay, if that's what you're thinking. Besides, I don't expect the place is, uh, presentable right now."

"No, Sir, it's not. That's why I thought I'd give you a hand with cleaning up."

"How do you . . . What, you were in there while I was out?"

Wow, Hathaway thought. Brandy sure makes him defensive. Almost mean. He's such a happy drunk when it's beer.

"I came to see you. The door was unlocked and your car was there. You didn't answer. I was worried, okay?"

Hathaway tried to soften the harshness of his clipped tone. "I came in because I thought you might be in trouble. When I found you were gone, I traced your bloody handprints down to the canal. How else do you think I happened to be there when you fell in?"

Lewis was quiet, almost visibly retreating from his uncalled-for anger. The man had saved his life. He managed an apologetic look.

"Then it wasn't your tingling Spider Sense?"

James smiled, shaking his head. "Most certainly not."