On the way back to the hospital, Veronica stopped at Gas & Snacks, and picked up a few candy bars. She picked at random, clueless as to what Don might actually like. Sadly, the gas station did not have bear claws. She also grabbed a few sticks of Slim Jims and a bag of toasted green beans. Well, its sort of a healthy snack, right?

Nurse Ratched, as Veronica now called the "gatekeeper" of the floor, disapprovingly looked over the duffel bag, as if smelling the snacks stashed inside, but allowed her into Don's room. Veronica was glad that the woman didn't actually frisk her.

Don was still asleep, and Veronica made every effort to move about the room soundlessly - putting the clothes into the tiny dresser in the corner (hiding the snacks among the clothes). She left his toothbrush, razor and toothpaste on the rolling table next to his bed - he'll be glad to have the comforts of the civil life. Once unpacking was finished, she grabbed one of the People magazines that she brought with her, and leaning back into the uncomfortable hospital chair - tried to occupy herself with some article about Paris Hilton. Her eyes scanned the pages, but her mind was focused solely on Don. His breathing was raspy and once in a while he let out a slight hollow moan - it made her cringe every time.

At some point she walked over and simply stared at him - he was so pale and exhausted. She gently traced the scratch on his cheek with her fingers, hoping not to wake him. He stirred a little, but didn't open his eyes.

One of the nurses came in, and checked his IV, replacing one of the bags. She also took Don's blood pressure, which woke him up. Veronica put away the magazine - he looked distraught.

"You would think they would let me rest" - he said, his voice low and drowsy. - "every damn hour, they come in, poke around, check my leg, stick needles into my arm. All I want is to get some sleep." He turned his head towards Veronica, as if he knew all along that she was quietly sitting beside him. She smiled, glad he was awake, but furious that he was being bothered constantly.

"No rest for the wicked." - she said quietly, coming closer.

"The only thing wicked about me right now is the urge and desire for something sweet. Did you bring the stuff?" - he looked around, with each turn of his head he looked sicker and sicker. The painkiller was obviously making him nauseated.

"I wasn't sure on what you liked, so I got a few different things." - she rummaged through the clothes, hoping nurse Ratched didn't decide to drop by for a social call. - "I got you an Almond Joy, a bag of Twizzlers (green apple), Skittles and a few donut holes."

"You are killing me, Mars." - he sighed. Veronica's face fell.

"Fine, give me the donut holes." - Don resigned. She brought the plastic cup and gave him one. He chewed it thoughtfully, and after a few minutes of silence finally said - "I guess I could do worse."

A few minutes later, the donut holes made their comeback, and Don was scrambling for his "bucket". Veronica's insides clenched, watching him wretch into the shallow plastic pan. Eventually, he ran out of the donuts, but was still heaving up whatever else in his stomach. It sounded painful, and he groaned with each spasm. Finally, he was able to lay down, clutching the pan. Veronica pried it out of his fingers, trying to be as nonchalant about as she could. This must be humiliating, she thought. I know it would be for me.

"Totally worth it." - he said finally, mustering a grin. Veronica chuckled, thankful for that bit of humor.

"I don't think it's such a good idea to try anything else. "

"Right, mom." - he said, closing his eyes. The vision of the Birthday card from the shoe box flashed before Veronica's eyes. He was shivering and Veronica draped the comforter around him as gently as she could. No matter - the staff will come back to poke and prod him soon enough. Hospital policy - checking the patient every hour, or even half an hour (if they are in worse condition). Veronica wondered how many patients got worse after their surgeries, simply because the nurses wouldn't let them sleep.

They sat in silence for a while - she finished flipping the pages of the magazine, he stared thoughtfully across the room. The silence was broken by the sound of rhythmic buzzing.

"My cellphone - check my bucket, the other one, yeah, right there by the window. Don here" - he said, as Veronica handed him the phone. - "Oh, hey. I was wondering if they called you. Yeah, I'm in tact. Yeah. No, not yet."

Veronica's curiosity was at an all-time high. She did her best not to look like she was eavesdropping, but it was nearly impossible.

"Ok, yeah, don't worry about it. I'll have a friend do that, you can stay at my place. No, it's fine, trust me. Love you too, see you later." - he turned to Veronica as soon as the conversation was over. It was obvious that he was trying to look as charming as he could.

"You are about to ask me for a favor, Deputy, aren't you?" - she smiled.

"It's a small one."

"Doubt it"

"Ok, it's average-sized." - Veronica clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes at that. Don smirked a bit, looking pleased with himself. - "Seriously, my sister Darlene is coming from North Carolina. I know I've asked you to run my errands already, but I was hoping you could pick her up at the airport and bring her to my place."

"I'd love to," - Veronica meant it. If Darlene was anything like her brother (and she was hoping she was), she would be a delight to hang with. But most of all, Veronica was just thrilled to hear that someone other than her will come to be with him. As much as she wanted her Deputy all to herself, it broke her heart to see his room so empty. No one should be alone and forgotten at a time like this. His deputies and the mayor and whoever else can make social calls all they want, but he needed people that truly cared about him.

Don gave her the flight information - Darlene called from the plane. Veronica had about an hour before she landed. Before stepping out of the room, she heard Don call out:

"Hey, Mars. Don't take it the wrong way, but tell her to come see me tomorrow? I can really use some rest and a shave. Don't want her to think this is worse than it is, right?" - he looked so vulnerable and broken. She smiled.

"Think nothing of it, I'll make sure she is taken care of."

"You are the best filing clerk a man could hope for." - he said with a contented sigh.

"I never said yes to the offer." - she said.

"Sure you have."

You are not wrong about that, Deputy, she thought, while making her way back down to the parking garage. Not sure how or when, but you sure do have a yes from me. In every possible way. A wave of tenderness washed over her, making her throat tight. Happy tears stung her eyes - she realized it with a sharp drop of her heart: she was in love with this man. Completely and without any reservation. She wanted to be with him, and not just as a filler or another tempestuous relationship full of belly flutters and mind-blowing sex. She wanted to plant herself in him, take roots in his life, cling to everything about him. She wanted him from start to finish, like she had never wanted anyone else before. Suddenly, having him was just not enough - she wanted to be HIS.

On the way to the airport her dad called and informed her that he was coming back tonight. He asked about Don - the news of the Neptune shoot-out was on the national TV. Sheriff Lamb becoming a national treasure - something that Keith never thought he was going to see in his lifetime. I guess stranger things happened, he said. Veronica did not respond with a wise-ass remark. Sure, dad had no idea that he was making a callous remark about someone she loved, but didn't want to have this talk over the phone. She told her dad she loved him and couldn't wait for him to come home. And that was the truth.

Veronica held up a sign with "Darlene Williams", that she fashioned out of a manila folder and her liquid eye shadow brush. She peered through the crowd of travellers who were rushing off the escalator, hoping to spot a familiar face. Having seen her only in the few pictures that Don had in his apartment, she was hoping that it would be enough. And it was - it took one glance of the bright blue eyes in the crowd for Veronica to recognize her. The woman was as tall and slim as Don, her dark hair framing soft features. She was a bit older than Don, which was evident by the slight crinkles near her eyes when she smiled. Veronica guessed that she was in her later 30s. She waved to the woman with a sincere enthusiasm.

Without any reservation, the women embraced each other, as if they were old friends, meeting after a long time apart. Veronica decided at an instant, that Darlene was just mind-blowingly awesome and that she liked everything about her. After picking up the luggage, the two headed to the parking lot, Darlene chatting nervously about her flight, and about how this was her first time on the West coast. Veronica couldn't help but grin from ear to ear - this was wonderful.

Don stared out of the window, grinding his teeth. He stopped pumping the morphine into his system a couple of hours ago - all it did was make him want to vomit his insides out. The donuts were a bad idea indeed - he felt a wave of embarrassment wash over his face. That's what every man wants, right? Having the sexiest woman on the planet watch him dry heave into a plastic bucket.

The pain was bad, in fact his leg felt on fire, but he resolved himself to bear that, than the wave of nausea that came over him every time he moved his head.

He remembered the night that he got shot, hoping to recall the sweet feel of Veronica's body against his. Instead, his mind kept on replaying the memories of the shooting, the chaos, the fear. That night, he regained consciousness at the hospital, as they were cutting away his clothes. It might have been the feel of the cold air and the instruments against his skin that brought him out of the blissful darkness. Splayed half-nude on the table, people around him, methodically moving and turning him, things sticking out from almost every orifice. Before he could scream in pain, someone put a plastic cup-like contraption on his face and the reality grew wonderfully blank again.

The next time he awoke, he found himself on a stretcher in the hallway, shivering uncontrollably. He never knew that he could be this cold. His body practically went into convulsions, and he begged for a blanket. His face itched, and eventually the itching spread over his neck and chest. It was unbearable - he clawed at his skin, not caring whether he had anything left. He just wanted it to stop. Then the nausea came - the endless series of spasms, racking his body. Someone's gentle hands wiped his forehead. "It's all right, you will be al right, sweetie. Your body just trying to rid of the anesthesia, it's normal." - he heard a woman's voice. He clung to it like a child to his mother's hand, helpless to stop the vomiting, the shivering and the itching. After what felt like an eternity, his body finally started to pull itself together. At that time, Don's thoughts were too occupied by this unexplainable and all-encompassing assault on his body to be embarrassed. The nurse (as he realized later) was sweet and gentle. She stayed with him until the worst of it passed. After bundling him in a few blankets, she gave him a pill that stopped the nausea. The next few hours were a blur. He recalls being awoken every five minutes, or at least that's what it felt never felt so tired or lonely in his wanted Darlene to be there, his mom. Everytime the apologetic nurse checked him over, including prodding his leg for bleeding, he grinded his teeth with anger and helplessness. He wanted his mom and it struck him as odd. He taught himself to do without his mom a long time ago. And not just his mom, but without anyone else, really. But that night, the bullet stripped him of his title and dignity, forcing him to revert to the hurt little boy that Don thought he left behind, crying for his mom. That was possibly the second worst night of his life, and he never wanted to re-live it ever again.

But the sun came up, and he felt marginally better. Then SHE came, bursting back into his life like a proverbial ray of sunshine. Even in the cloud of the hospital stench - he could smell her sweet Vanilla scent. Ronnie. Suddenly, she was there and the terror of hours past didn't matter so much - just a distant memory of something dark. He could tell she was crying and it touched him. He saw her cry before, a few times probably because of him, but never FOR him. She was there, and while his body refused to cooperate with him, everything became that much simpler and easier to bear. The slightest detail became meaningful and word she said rang bells in his head. It was hard not to give into anger, but he pushed it as deep down as possible, and instead drank the vision of her in. The anger will have to wait. The hatred for that bullet that tore through his flesh, for the son of a bitch who fired at him, and all of the sons of bitches that made him leave his sweet, sweet Ronnie alone that night - they will burn in Hell. Later. But for now, all he wanted to do is smell her scent around him, listen to her bubbly voice, and hold on to the fact that Veronica, HIS Veronica was there.

"Well, we're here!" - Veronica let Darlene into the apartment. The woman looked around with curiosity. It was obvious that she had never visited him before. Veronica thanked all the deities in the world that made her clean-up Don's kitchen earlier that day. She didn't want Darlene to know about his drinking, at least not right away. This is not how she should find out, she decided.

On the way to Don's place they had a good chance to get to know one another. Darlene was open and generous - she shared everything about herself without any reservation. It was unusual - growing up in California Veronica was used to first, meeting the "character" that people played. It was only much later that she finally could learn about the person behind that character. That's the way it always was, and she expected everyone else to be the same. Everyone pretending to be happier, prettier, better-adjusted than everyone else. Even Mac, whom she considered to be the most open and genuine person she knew, now looked like Fort Knox compared to Darlene. It was refreshing and disarming. Don's sister was smart, well-spoken, soft and incredibly funny. Veronica learned that she was five years his senior, and that she had two kids - a boy and a girl. She worked at a local physician's office, and loved cats. Eventually it was Veronica's turn to answer Darlene's question. The woman must have had years of experience with talking with people from all walks of life and get them to reveal what she wanted them to reveal. Even with years training to conceal information, Veronica couldn't help but to want to tell her things about herself. Darlene's tactful but frank questions felt assuring. She was definitely someone that people must have adored to have around.

Darlene hinted to Veronica that "she had no idea her little brother was involved with anyone". Veronica knew that Don specifically called her a "friend", when talking to his sister. She didn't want to correct her - the thought of "being involved" with Don was making her heart swell. But nonetheless, she danced around that statement with a grace worthy of the Mars name.

Just as Don requested earlier, Veronica asked Darlene to come by the hospital the next morning - she told her that he was simply too tired. and that was completely true. The two women spent a couple of hours chatting, Veronica relishing in the sweet stories about Don's childhood. When she asked about their parents, Darlene skipped a beat.So that's where the nail is, right under all those pillows, - Veronica thought. Darlene's pause and slight frown did not escape her trained eye.

The other woman was fairly brief on the subject of their parents: Their mother died when Don was a teenager. They did not keep in touch with their father, on account of his drinking and the nonexistent relationship. Darlene's stormy eyes told her there was more to this, but Veronica didn't pry further. She quickly changed the subject, and the rest of the afternoon they spent discussing light and pleasant topics.

It was getting dark by the time Veronica finally was on her way home. Her body felt a hundred pounds heavier. She was craving to feel the hot shower pelting her skin. Propping her feet up would be beyond amazing, and perhaps even having a beer…

Her apartment greeted her with a scent of fried meat and garlic - it smelled heavenly. Her father, with his cheeks bright pink from the heat of the oven, mitts on both arms, apron on his torso greeted her with a bright smile. Before he had a chance to say anything, Veronica rushed towards him. He gathered her into his arms.

"Oh honey, missed you bushels." - he kissed her cheeks and forehead.

"And I - you." - She said, nestling her face into his chest. She was felt like a lifetime, since she saw him last. Something had changed in her life forever since they parted outside of this apartment a few days ago. But it will have to wait for later - for now, her stomach growled at her, anticipating a lovely Mars dinner.