Chapter Twelve

"How much does she know?" Oscar queried, standing at the window. He and the two doctors were watching Jaime and Steve on the tennis court. Jaime returned his serves more easily now, and usually even managed to keep the ball on the court. (She still needed a lot of practice but was quite apparently having a wonderful time.)

Michael couldn't take his eyes off of her, and so answered Oscar without turning around. "She knows the OSI exists but just the barest, most basic details about its functions."

"What about herself – her background – has she delved into that yet?" Oscar wondered. (What he really wanted to know was how soon Jaime might be asking to resume a 'normal life'.)

"She knows her parents are dead – and that she has no living relatives," Rudy answered. "And that spooked her; she didn't ask us anything else. But she's been very eager to learn new things and relearn some of the old...like tennis."

"She's doing very well," Oscar noted.

"I clocked her at thirty miles an hour this morning," Rudy added. "It won't be long until she's back to full strength. Physically, things couldn't be better."

"I'd like to start working with Jaime on the photos again," Michael put in. Rudy shot him a dubious look. "It's been more than a week since she last experienced the pain, and -"

"That we know of," Rudy reminded him quietly.

"Not the photos that seemed to trigger the pain," Michael explained, "at least, not for awhile. I'll start with her childhood, her parents...and just see how she does, where she goes with the information."

"Awfully risky," Rudy argued.

"I'll tread lightly. Besides, we can't keep Jaime in limbo indefinitely."

"We also can't force her to absorb things she's just not ready for!" Rudy fired back.

Oscar frowned. Clearly, the two doctors were at loggerheads. "Would a therapist help?" he suggested. While he was in no hurry to deal with the complications involved in returning Jaime to the 'world of the living', he did genuinely care about her and it seemed that they had reached an impasse. Without some sort of breakthrough, she would go no further.

Michael shrugged. "Maybe...if she'd agreed to meet with one. I've already approached that subject, and, well, you know how stubborn she can be..."

"And if it isn't optional?" Oscar proposed.

Michael shook his head. "Just how angry do you want to make her?" he chuckled...then grew serious. "Jaime's confused, she's frightened and -yes – she's angry. She seems to be dreaming about the things she can't quite grasp or deal with consciously, and a therapist would help with that, but -"

"Do you find one or do I?" Oscar asked in a firm voice.

"Let me broach the subject with her, see what she says. We'll take care of it...somehow. You've got enough to deal with." And I already know what her answer will be...

* * *

"No!" Jaime threw a rock into the river with an angry splash. "All this time, you've been telling me I'm not crazy – that I'm normal – and now you want me to see a shrink?"

"Jaime, just hear me out," Michael pleaded softly.

"No." Jaime turned to walk away from him, and Michael gently grabbed her arm. "Leave me alone!" she insisted, trying to shake him off... but Michael's grip tightened and he pulled her closer, forcing her to turn around and look into his eyes.

Jaime gave up the struggle, fearing that if she yanked away too hard, she might actually hurt him. Instead, she buried her face in his shoulder and gave in to her emotions. Her body shook visibly as all of the fear and frustration began to pour out of her. Michael loosened his forceful grip and embraced her instead. "This has been the hardest thing you'll ever have to deal with," he told her, tenderly rubbing her back.

Michael knew the line between 'doctor' and 'man' had become a dangerous blur...but right now, Jaime needed him. Best case scenario, she might be able to share her thoughts more freely and Oscar (and – to a lesser extent – Rudy) would drop the idea of sending in a therapist. He would help Jaime himself...if she'd let him.

Finally, Jaime raised her head to look at him, and Michael felt the stirring of feelings he knew he shouldn't have as her brushed away her tears. Jaime's eyes were searching his face for answers to questions she didn't dare ask, and before he could consider the possible consequences, Michael leaned down and met her lips with his own.

From the window of the day room, Steve turned away to head back to his room. He'd seen more than enough.

* * *

Steve pushed away his dinner as he faced the inner quandary of what (if anything) to do about what he'd seen. Clearly, Michael had gone too far. Yet, who would Steve tell...and what exactly could he say, without sounded like a bitter ex-lover? Maybe it wasn't really as bad as it had looked. Steve tried to think with his head...instead of with his heart.

At least Jaime was alive, he reminded himself, and he was still able to be a part of her life. He knew he could help her transition back to 'real life' in ways that no one else could – and he was willing to do anything it took to make that transition as smooth as possible. Her happiness was his number one priority...but what if that happiness involved her being in the arms of another man? Could he deal with that? He had to...for Jaime's sake.

* * *

Back in his Los Angeles office, Oscar was putting in another late night. He had his own quandary to reason through. Jaime had originally been made bionic with an eye toward her becoming the same sort of asset to the government that Steve was. She was intelligent, quick-witted and brave...but would she ever be able to become an operative? Was it even right to expect that of her anymore?

Regardless of Oscar's personal feelings, though, would the government that had spent millions of dollars on Jaime's bionic surgery (not to mention her current medical treatment) agree to let her go? Before any sort of decision on her future could be made, they needed to find out if Jaime was truly capable of resuming a normal life. Was she? Of course, she was, Oscar told himself. They just had to find the right method to reach her, to help her cope – and a way to explain her reappearance to the rest of the outside world.

* * *

Rudy had met with Michael that evening while Jaime was having her dinner. The young doctor told his mentor that their patient had made a breakthrough, that she was finally acknowledging her feelings and making the first strides at trying to deal with them. Rudy sensed there was more that Michael wasn't saying, but what he did say was nothing short of excellent news. Perhaps today had been the start of a new chapter, and Jaime could begin learning about her past without the pain that had threatened her before. Instead of holding her back, perhaps it was time to set her free...to let her try her own wings and see if she could fly.

* * *

The burger was tasteless and the fries were nearly cold...but Jaime didn't notice. Today, by the river, Michael's kiss had made her feel like a real person again, instead of merely a shadow. Now she felt truly alive – and couldn't wait to see what tomorrow might bring. As soon as she'd finished her meal, she laid back against her pillow, happily closed her eyes...and began to dream.

In her dream, Michael stood by the river, lit by the bright summer sunshine and holding his arms out to her. Jaime took an eager step toward him and found that she couldn't move. She wasn't paralyzed, but something (or someone) was holding her firmly in place. She looked back and sensed, rather than saw, a figure there: formless and faceless, and yet she somehow knew it was a man. She felt as though he wasn't touching her but was still able to hold her back, to keep her from Michael's arms.

Jaime woke up startled, wondering what the dream could mean. Was there really someone behind her (or someone she'd left behind)? What – or who – was keeping her from moving forward?

* * * * *