I want to thank all my readers on this new story, I've been working really hard on it for a long time and am now just getting around to posting it a few chapters at a time. I hope you all continue to enjoy, and a special thanks to both sandsjunkie and linalove for their kind comments!

Author's Note: Anyone who is a fan of music like me, or even addicted to music like me, may or may not recognize certain titles that match each of the chapters of my story. This is mostly the cause of inspiration, or otherwise just great titles, and I plan to make a list of the credits to those bands or singers at the end of the story, but just wanted to point it out for now. Also, all of Red Sox references are of my own personal fanticism for the team, born and raised a Red Sox girl. Just wanted my main character to somehow relate to me, a trick I find helpful sometimes.

Thanks again, all comments or criticism is greatly welcomed and appreciated :) -Jackie-

Such Great Heights

En route to Tampa, Florida

10:45 PM, somewhere over South Carolina

Call if fate indeed that landed Sands and Lily in the seats directly next to one another. Call it a playing spirit of fire and ice. Call it serendipity and all that it implies, but what neither of them could deny was that sharing elbow space and leg room for an hour and twenty minutes wasn't exactly the hardest thing in the world. In fact, it made them both smile; blindly. While she focused on a good book for the first half of the trip, Sands stayed silently listening and finger drumming with the music in his head. He was trying to ignore the idea of Lily being on a plane headed for trouble, and the very real notion that he had actually allowed it to happen. Even Shane hadn't tried to stop her, and they both knew why. They all wanted the same thing out of the trip to Tampa, they all wanted revenge. And after a good hour of contemplating it over steel guitars and crazy beats, he eventually tore the headphones from his ears and sipped lightly at his iced rum, while trying to place in his mind what it was she was thumbing through beside him. Lily was always a quit wit, with a keen eye for words and descriptions, and she was in truth the one who had first gotten him to enjoy the "art of reading", as she once referred to it.

A few more pages turned, one more sip of his drink and he couldn't help it anymore, he had to break the silence of his head, "What's so fascinating about that book?"

She looked up from the page and scratched her eyes with relief, having never realized he was listening in. He looked tired to her, as though he needed not only sleep, but a break from life altogether. His glasses were tilted back, his chin still stubbly, and a drop of rum sitting on his lip where he couldn't feel its presence, but she ignored it all to respond, "It just speaks the truth, that's all. I like honest writers."

"You always did."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She retorted with a hushed anger, noticing the smile playing at his mouth.

"Christ nothing, you just always were into knowing the truth of life."

"Oh…well, it's important to know."

"So who's telling the truth tonight?" She paused before answering his question, looked down to the words before her, and then peered back up with a smirk of knowing innocence. "Ginsberg. Ever heard of him?"

"Don't flatter me, Lily."

"You still like him?"

"From what I can remember seeing." There was silence at this note as he lowered his face away in almost a pained resistance to admit that he would never read the pages of a book again, that he could never just see words or letters or names again, except in the back of his mind. And just as Lily began to turn back and read again, avoiding the confrontation of his hurt for the time being, he tilted his head back against the leather seat, and breathed down her neck, "Read me some."

And so at the request, she did. The poetry took off from between her lips like sprinkles of warm rain in a cold winter, seducing him with sadness, heightening his sense of touch and scent as he drank in her perfume, the orange zest of her shampoo, the sweet soil of her skin, and as his arm met hers just as closely on the rest between them. It was like soaking up a memory, sponging it until the rest of the world dried and disappeared. Sands couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so full, so content in his vulnerable state. While the words continued to flow, he listened to her tone fluctuate with emphasis over certain words, joy, sin, kiss, love…all of the things that came to his mind before she even spoke them. And when she finished reading the last seven poems of her book, she closed the pages and settled it into her bag on the floor, waiting for him to respond. Eventually, with a heavy breath and shuffle of feet, he did.

"You know…your brother would kick my fucking ass if he were here right now."

She didn't respond; only let him continue with his point. "He'd never forgive me if something happened to you. He'd rather kill me."

"Then I guess I have to prove to you that nothing will."

When she spoke his mind stopped for a slow moment, to dance around her words in all objective hope for the situation. He hoped she was right and that involving herself in a CIA investigation wouldn't prove fatal. He hoped that she would get what that they were all after. But most of all, he hoped that having his doctor around him now, analyzing his every thought and move, wouldn't jeopardize the past he had buried neatly in a pine box a half a foot under. It was too close to the surface for any comfort, the emotions he'd bottled without a cork, the pain he'd stored away in a shoebox, all of it too easy to bring back to life. Sands needed to know that he wasn't going to have to worry about returning to 1996, or 1992, or Chatham, MA for that matter. He needed to be confident with Lily around, which at the moment, wasn't happening.

"Can I make a peace offering at least?" She finally asked, reaching down into her backpack for something as he listened to the rattling and tossing of junk on the floor. Shaking his head in annoyance, she came back up and placed in his hand a rounded tube, something with a cap, something with a label. "It's called Zofran, something new we're trying with patients. It's good, I promise. And it should help with the headaches and nausea."

He had never told her about his killer headaches, or any other symptoms for that matter, and turning the bottle over in his hands and facing her, he became instantly curious, "I never told you--"

"Sands," she interrupted, a note of her using his Agency name now instead, "I'm a doctor, I get paid for this remember. Trust me…" She smiled, and placed her hand over his to enclose his fingers over the bottle again, "It'll help a lot."

Tampa International Airport, Florida

11:28 PM

After another twenty minutes of shared small talk, another drink or two, and a safe landing over a stretch of warm, glowing runway, the group scattered from the plan with their stuff and made their way through the quiet terminal. Lily and Shane went off to use the bathroom, while the guys took Sands off to baggage claim. Lily made sure they got her stuff too, and while in the bathroom, was finally hit with the conversation she knew had taken too long already.

"God, I can't believe you came with us…you're just as crazy as I remember." Shane mocked, standing at the mirror while she wiped the sleep and makeup from her eyes. "Lily Hanson…shrink turned CIA bait."

"Bait?"

"Yeah, you're part of the team now…as was your choice. And trust me…you are most definitely our bait should we need it." As Shane gestured amusingly up and down Lily's form, the women laughed, reapplying whatever was needed and reminiscing.

"Shane, you remember that time we drove to Philly together?"

"Are you kidding, of course I do. Picked up those male strippers with your Christmas money."

"Yeah…" she laughed, puckering her lips and fixing the messy braid her hair was in. "I miss that, we were insane."

"We were…" Shane sighed, smiling once more back at her in the mirror and then lifting her bag over her shoulder. "Come on Hanson, before we piss off the agencies finest." Grabbing Lily's arm the two ran out of the bathroom and downstairs to baggage claim as if they were eighteen again, a couple of goofy high school girls trying to be grown-up. And they certainly looked and sounded the part when they made it to where the guys were sitting with the bags, tired frowns on their face, and a snoring brother at the end of the bench. Breaking the link of their elbows, Shane went to wake up Sands, while Lily found Carter and Andy immediately drawn to her with conversation and lame jokes. She was glad for it though, because their company kept her from having to think about Jeff, and as she followed them off to help with getting the rental cars, she tried her damndest not to turn around and see him. The pills had knocked him out almost cleanly from what she could tell, and she was glad for it, he needed the rest, his body required it and had for a long time.

"Paging Dr. Hanson…" With a mocking beeping and static sound beneath his closed hands, Lily shook off her thoughts and glanced over to see Danny laughing with widened eyes. She had never noticed how funny he was when he was hanging around her office with Allie in the middle of the afternoons, but he made her feel welcome to their little group at least, which was good enough for her. "Stat…and clear!"

"I'm a psychologist you moron."

"Oh right, so you'd say things like, "And how did that make you feel," right?"

Shaking her head with a giggling sigh, she followed the two of them out to where Shane was standing with Sands, a few brand new black Explorers pulling up seconds later. The windows were tinted, rims polished, engines fueled, everything needed for a good CIA getaway car in her mind. Carter insisted on driving one of them, while Shane begged for the other set of keys, and from their Lily knew she had two options. She could relieve her mind slightly and travel to the hotel with the Marx brothers, or take a chance and spend more quality time with the people she loved to remind herself of, her past.

"Hey, Harvard!" Her head turned to the left, where from the front passenger's seat of the first truck was Carter, a smile on his face and open arms, "You're with us!"

And because Shane was too preoccupied with the bags, she ran off to where they were, jumped in and took off. Sands had heard the entire thing from the passenger seat of his own transportation, the window rolled down to let the chipped Florida breeze inside and against his face, warm in comparison to Washington, but still stinging. He heard them call for her, heard her run off, and heard everything between her sigh and the car's engine as it sped off away from the airport terminal. Somehow he had wondered if she'd ride with him and Shane to the hotel, but apparently there was still unfinished ground for Lily Hanson, and apparently Sands had to step up his game as the laureate ex best friend and lover.

It only took twenty minutes or so to find the hotel from the airport once they hit the expressway, and with a few of the city that one couldn't possibly beat, Lily found herself hanging out of the back window in the cold January wind. This was her first trip to Tampa, a place she'd more often heard about than her own hometown, and also been warned of. Crime was substantial, drugs were easy to get here, and the sports teams were each individually operating off of inside barrier men with enough guns, funds, and hookers to take over the world. It was a twisted city compared to anywhere she'd known, but it felt good, looked like fun, and with a ruckus of Carolina Liar on the radio and the guys arguing up front, she couldn't think about much else expect her choice to come along and how brilliantly her mind had worked in the hours between skipping out on work and running to the airport.

"Where the fuck did Jack stick us this round?"

"Umm…we're staying at the Hard Rock."

"No kidding?" Carter replied with a smile, and then turned the radio up as he yelled and Lily laughed at him. The two guys continued argued the entire way there, and although amusing at points, she opted in the back of her mind to ride in whatever car Shane and Jeff were in next time, if only for her mind's sake. Eventually she was saved when they pulled up at the valet, and much to her surprise, were welcomed like celebrity V.I.P's. All it took was a flash of some strange card that Danny had, a few words between the bellhops and Shane, and the five of them had not only their luggage ushered away, but the cars, and their own inhibitions. After a few minutes, Lily looked over to see Jeff standing idly with his hands lowered to the ground. Shane and the other guys had taken off into the hotel, and so she felt only fairness in finding out what he needed help with. When she approached him he instantly called her out, recognizing her perfume in the breeze, and only kept reaching for the strap of his guitar case.

"Let me help you."

"No." He replied harshly, pushing her hand away and finally grasping the strap and tossing it over his shoulder. "I told you not to waste your time on me."

"You can't do everything yourself Jeff."

"I can do anything I want to," Again with a gruff, he moved past her and to where he felt the heat of the moving doorways open and shut. Once inside of the hotel's lobby he could hear Aerosmith playing loudly overhead, glasses clinking in a nearby bar, high heels on tiled floors, the dinging sound of elevators, and the distant dropping of coins into metal casino games. He didn't need Lily's help to know what was around him, he could hear it, smell it, feel it still. And when she came inside after him, standing at his side while they waited for the other three to pay for the rooms, she tried not to interrupt what looked like his thought process; she only wanted to be near him in case he could ever admit to needing help.

"Stop breathing on me and say something." He finally interrupted the silence, clinging tighter to his guitar case.

"Why the hell do you have to be such a pain in the ass? I only wanted to help you…"

"I don't need your help, Lily. I'm abso-fucking-lutely sure about that, ok?"

"Fine." She replied coldly, and turned away to watch the other cars pulling into the valet. They stood opposite one another's backs, listening to the music echoing around them, the sounds of laughing blondes and suitcase wheels. Lily wanted to reach out and apologize to him for how life had turned out. And Sands, wanted nothing more than to bite the bullet and accept her help, accept it to the point of letting her back into his world again, back into his everything. This was all missed hope though when only seconds later Shane came to grab both of them and haul them upstairs to the rooms. All three of guys were sharing one of the suites, while Shane and Lily opted to bunk together, for privacy's sake and to remember the girls they used to be.

It was almost two by the time everyone was settled, Carter and Andy passed out on the beds, while Sands took over the couch for the night, strumming lightly at his guitar from memory and blind practice as he felt that imminent cold wind blow in from the balcony. The same wind, that Lily herself was breathing in only ten feet and a door away, at what felt like the top of the world, the top of her existence. In the morning she would have to call Allie to cancel all of her appointments for two weeks, and that in itself, was freedom much needed.

Fenway Park – Red Sox vs. Angels

April 23rd, 1994

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Well too bad, we're talking…and we're talking about it. Come on, talk."

"No." Tossing her hair back over her shoulder, Lily fell into a slanted walk as she stormed towards the lower level stairwell to the stadium. She had no intentions of talking to him about it at all, because she wasn't ready for him to know how she felt. She'd already missed the starting pitch to the game, and she wasn't about to let her boys fall away into another April pitch without her there, beer sloshing in her hand as she jogged back into the open aired lights, Jeff's cap tugged halfway down over her eyes. From somewhere distant she could hear his shoes hitting the pavement behind her, never calling out her name, but his breath exhausted from the haul. She hated to leave him out of things, she hated to not want to talk to him, but right now it was her only option.

Once back to her seat, she found a few of her girlfriends and tried to occupy her mind with the game before he made it returned to her, and when he did, he knew exactly what she was doing. So he played it off as finely as ever, sipped at his beer, cheered with the guys some, and watched her closely, as closely as he imagined he could in that moment. Whatever was rumbling in her pretty little head would stand at least another hour's chance against a much needed confession, he knew her too well to expect anything else. And then, when she was good and ready to spill her guts on the subject, he'd be there waiting with a smile and a kiss should she need one. For the time being though, as he watched her yell out at Rodriguez, and give the coach a piece of not only her mind but the rest of Massachusetts, he was charmed completely as he always had been. Something in the way she moved, nineteen years old with the wit of a thirty-four veteran to life and the laugh of a child. He couldn't help but stare at her the same way he had that first night at the Hanson's house, across from the dinner table, between peas and mashed potatoes. And far away from consciousness he began to carefully extend his hand between hips and arms to where he saw hers hanging by her thigh. Hooking his fingers quickly around pinky, her eyes darted away from the field and back towards him, a smile, innocence, clarity and willingness to participate with the conversation.

Just as soon as Boston took home. Just as soon as she remembered why she was ever even mad at him.