A/N: Yeah... Sorry for the cliffy in the last chap. There are some more coming. Enjoy the ride! ;)


Chapter 12 -Changes-
~~~

"I… I just can't believe… Daniel…" Jackie's hitching sobs hurt Austin more deeply than her own grief. "I can't believe he's gone!"

"I know, Jackie, I can't believe it either," said Ann. She patted her friend's shoulder awkwardly. Jackie wrapped her arms around Ann, clinging desperately. Ann fought down her instinct to push the other woman off.

"What… what are we going to do?" asked Jackie, sniffling. She released Ann.

Ann reached automatically for the box of tissues on her desk, handing one to her friend.

"Well, we'll have to notify his clients. And get his papers in order. We'll have to close the office, Jackie. He didn't have a partner. There's no one to take over his practice."

"I… I… I know," sobbed Jackie. "It's just… so… sudden."

"Jackie, listen." Ann sighed. "Why don't you go home? I'll stay here and deal with things today, ok?"

"No." Jackie sniffed and blew her nose loudly. "No, Ann, I'm sorry. I'll pull myself together. I can't leave you here to deal with everything alone."

"Are you sure, Jackie?" Ann asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure. It's a wonder the phone hasn't started ringing yet. It will, you know. It's going to be a zoo here today."

As if on cue, the telephone jangled. Ann sighed.

Well, if there's one thing I can handle, it's answering the phone.

"Let's get to it," she said to Jackie, lifting the receiver. "Sisenstien and Partners. No, I'm sorry. Mr. Sisenstien is… unavailable."

The two of them spent the rest of the day fielding phone calls and dealing with various authorities. Daniel Sisenstien's clients called, expressing everything from sympathy to irritation.

Ann rubbed her fingers over her brow after hanging up with one especially irate caller. "You'd think Daniel decided to drop dead just to annoy them!" she grumbled, drawing a startled laugh from Jackie.

After that, their mood lightened and the day seemed to go a little more smoothly. Still, Ann had never been so glad to leave the office. Locking the door behind her seemed final. She sighed, turning away.

She was fumbling with her front-door keys when she heard the telephone ringing inside her apartment. She answered on the third ring, her voice slightly breathless.

"Hello?"

"Ann? Ann, are you all right?"

Ann frowned. "I'm fine, Stephen."

"Ann… I wanted to talk to you. I… I wanted to tell you I'm… I'm sorry. I'd like to talk to you."

Ann sighed. "I'm sorry, too, Stephen. I was… upset. I shouldn't have thrown things at you."

"I understand. I shouldn't have assumed I understood how you felt about Bailey. I really screwed up. Ann, can I come over and talk to you? Or take you out for a cup of coffee somewhere?"

"I just got a new carafe for my coffeepot last night. Why don't you come over, Stephen, and we'll break it in."

"You got a new carafe? Did you go out?"

"I did," she said quietly. "I used my cane. You were right about one thing, Stephen, I can't let losing Bailey stop me from living. I… I'd like to talk to you, too."

"Great. I can be there in twenty minutes, ok?"

"Sounds good. I'll put on the coffee."

Ann hung up the phone with a slight smile.

Well, if he's still willing to talk to me after I threw a coffee mug at his head, maybe he's worth giving a second chance. Anyway, I don't want to be alone right now.

She made her way to the kitchen and washed out the new carafe. She set it aside.

I'll start a fresh pot when he gets here, she decided.

Before long, she heard Stephen's soft knock at the door. Smiling, she went to let him in.

"Hi there," he said.

Ann smiled. His voice sounded just a little uncertain and shy. "Hi," she responded, stepping back to let him come in. An invitingly spicy smell and the rattle of paper bags told Ann that Stephen didn't come empty-handed.

"I picked up some Thai food," he explained, stepping inside. "I hope you like chicken satay and spring rolls. I got shrimp tempura and napa soup, too."

"Sounds great," said Ann honestly. "I haven't eaten all day, and it's getting late."

"Great. Would you like me to get out the plates and things?"

"I can do it, thanks, Stephen." Ann forced another smile, and turned to the kitchen to get out the plates and utensils. She heard Stephen cross the room behind her and set the sacks on the breakfast bar separating her kitchen from the main part of the apartment.

"Ann, is everything ok? You seem… tired."

"Daniel Sisenstien died last night," she said softly. She heard Stephen move across the room toward her. His arms came around her waist, and she leaned into his chest, inhaling the crisp, clean scent of his clean shirt against her cheek. "I… I've known him for over ten years, Stephen," she said, her voice catching on the sob stuck in her throat. "He… he was like a second father to me. And after the trial…"

"I know, Ann. I'm so sorry." Stephen's arms were warm and strong around her. Ann leaned into his embrace, comforted. Still, her tears didn't fall. She took in a deep breath through her nose, fighting down the grief that threatened to overwhelm her.

"I'm going to miss him," she whispered.

"Of course you are. What happened?"

Ann moved gently back, and Stephen let her go. "They think it was a heart-attack."

"What a tragedy. Daniel was a great lawyer."

"He was a good friend," said Ann. She felt Stephen's hand on her arm and she smiled. "Thanks for coming by tonight. I didn't want to be by myself."

"That's understandable," said Stephen. "Do you want me to fix you a plate?"

"I can do it," she said. She heard him sigh.

"I know you can," said Stephen.

Ann laughed. "Ok, ok," she said, surrendering her plate into his hands. "If you insist."

"I do." His voice was low, gentle.

Ann smiled, and perched on one of the stools, waiting with her fingers steepled under her chin. Stephen laughed, a deep, rich sound. She heard the clink of utensils against ceramic. Soon Stephen slid a plate in front of her. The scents of the meal rose to Ann and she breathed in deeply.

"Thank you," she said.

The two were quiet for a time while they dealt with the good food.

"Do you want me to do the dishes?" asked Stephen.

Ann shook her head decisively. "No, you brought the food. I'll do the dishes. You can start the coffee if you want."

"Great." Stephen rattled around making coffee while Ann stacked the few dishes in the dishwasher.

This is nice, she thought. I could get used to having someone around, someone to share meals and chores with. A memory of Raphael's strong hands under her fingers flashed through her mind. Ann shook her head. What has gotten into me? She heard clinking as Stephen assembled mugs. He's a nice guy, she thought. Jackie would approve.

Still, the memory of leathery skin and rippling muscles remained. Stephen's a nice guy, but he pales in comparison to a certain turtle.

She heard the coffee perking. A hand brushed hers, making her jerk back with a startled gasp.

"Sorry," said Stephen contritely. "I was just going to help you with the dishes."

"It's ok," said Ann, cursing her racing heart. "You startled me, that's all."

"I'll remember to speak first next time," said Stephen contritely.

"That would help," said Ann with a smile.

She finished with the dishes and closed the machine. Moving carefully, she poured the coffee, careful this time not to spill.

"There's milk in the refrigerator, and the sugar's in the cupboard," she told Stephen.

"Ok, thanks," he replied. Ann heard the cupboard door creak open. "There's no sugar up here," he said.

"It should be… Oh, no, it's on the counter. Sorry. I had it out the other day when…" Ann trailed off. She'd been about to say 'when Raphael was here'.

"When what?" Stephen's voice was closer as he moved to the counter to collect the wayward sugar bowl.

"Oh, when I got it out," Ann said, knowing her evasion sounded more lame than a wounded duck.

Stephen didn't comment. Ann heard the clink of his spoon against the mug as he stirred in the sugar. She sipped her coffee carefully.

"So, what will you do now, Ann?" asked Stephen.

"I don't know," said Ann with a rueful shake of her head. "I've got some savings, so I'm not worried about finances. I was going to take some time off anyway, for this surgery Doctor Fletcher was talking about. Daniel advised me against it," she added, a frown creasing her brow.

"Why would he do that?" asked Stephen. "The way you described it to me, it sounds like you have little to lose by going forward."

"That's the thing," Ann responded. "If it works, I get my eyesight back. If it doesn't, I lose nothing. Stephen, can I tell you something in confidence?"

"Sure," he said easily.

"I'm not sure of the ethics of mentioning this," she said carefully. "But since Daniel's technically no longer in practice, and I'm not revealing trade secrets or anything, I think it's safe to tell you. Doctor Stulir was one of Daniel's clients."

"Do you think Daniel had reservations about the man?" asked Stephen. "Ann, maybe you shouldn't go forward with this."

"I don't know. I think Daniel would've told me if there was something about Doctor Stulir I should know. Anyway, Doctor Fletcher trusts him. Alec's been by my side since the night I was blinded. I trust his judgment," said Ann firmly. "In fact, I've already made the appointment. I go into the program tomorrow. Jackie offered to take care of Bailey while I was away…" she felt tears sliding down her cheeks.

"Ann, I'm really sorry about Bailey," said Stephen. His hand touched hers.

The gentle gesture was all it took to burst the dam. Suddenly a sob choked Ann, and tears were pouring out, burning in rivers down her face. Stephen's arms came around her, drawing her close. She leaned against him, her shoulders shaking.

He stayed there, just holding her, until the last of her tears had been cried out. When Ann's sobs slowed to hiccuping gasps, she felt a soft cloth touch her cheek.

"Here, use my handkerchief. It's clean, I promise," he whispered.

"Thanks." she sniffed, wiping her face with the square. Stephen's arm remained firmly around her shoulders.

"Come on," he said softly. "Why don't I get out of here and let you get some rest, ok? You've had a long day, Ann."

"Thanks, Stephen, I appreciate that," she said quietly.

"Things will look better in the morning. Tell you what, how long will you be away from home? I'll stop by every day and see if Bailey comes back. Do you have any pictures of him? I can have posters made up as well. I'll do everything I can to help you bring him home again."

"Oh Stephen…" Ann's tears threatened to spill over again. "I do have a picture the organization gave me when I adopted Bailey," she said. "It's in the drawer there by the broom closet."

Stephen moved away across the room. "Ok, I've got it," he said. "Great, I'll take this into the office tomorrow and get some copies printed. You just take care of yourself, Ann, and don't worry, ok?"

"Ok." Ann sniffed again. "Thanks, Stephen. You've been a great friend."

"No problem, Ann," he said.

Ann stood up as he returned to her side and walked him to the door. She recoiled in shock as gentle fingers brushed her jaw.

"Sorry," said Stephen contritely. "I guess I should tell you if I want to kiss you goodnight, shouldn't I?"

"K… kiss me… goodnight?" Ann stammered. She felt him move, felt his arm come around her waist. Warm lips pressed against hers. Instinctively, Ann kissed him back for a moment before pulling away.

"Goodnight, Ann," he said huskily.

"Goodnight," she responded. The door opened, and he was gone.

Well, thought Ann, leaning back against the door. That was… nice. Nothing to write home about, but nice.

She shook her head, brushing her fingers over her lips, before making her way to bed.

***

Stephen Whitman stepped out onto the sidewalk with a spring in his step and a whistle on his lips. Ann Peters was a beautiful, talented and intelligent young woman.

I hope this surgery works out for her. She's lost so much. She deserves this chance, he thought as he strolled along. He hadn't gone more than a few blocks when he stopped short, staring. Is that? No, it couldn't be… Bailey?

Stephen hurried forward. The dog shied to one side, ducking into an alley. It seemed to be dragging something, a leash.

"Bailey! Here, boy. Here, Bailey," called Stephen softly. He knelt, holding his hand out to the shepherd. Slowly, the dog edged forward. Dark golden eyes regarded Stephen with suspicion. Bailey stretched his nose out slowly, sniffing the offered hand.

"Hey there, big guy," said Stephen softly. With a slow, smooth motion, he reached out, picking up the end of the fabric hanging from the dog's neck. He was startled to find a length of heavy red silk had been knotted into a makeshift leash.

"Ann's been worried sick about you. What do you say we get you home?"