Author's note: Thanks for all the feedback on the last chapter, it really keeps me going.

John glanced at her briefly before turning his attention back to his beer. "About what?"

"I doubt you really have to ask," she said. She waited as though expecting some sort of response but when she didn't receive one she continued, "I heard that Mrs. Vega moved out of your hotel room today."

"My understanding is that she prefers Ms. Buchanan these days."

"So it's true?" she pressed.

John sighed; whatever her source was it was accurate. "Yes, it's true," he said.

"So I take it the two of you are no longer involved," she said.

He turned to her and smiled slightly. "I thought a fancy attorney like yourself would know what assuming does. Natalie has been going through a rough time, mostly thanks to your client, and we just decided for her sake it's better not to rush into anything. But we're still 'involved' and I plan to be very involved in my child's life."

"If it is your child," she said with a smug smile.

John turned back to his beer, not willing to rise to the argument over the baby's paternity she was trying to provoke. "Where'd you hear this anyway?" he asked as he took a swallow, "it just happened. Do you have someone following Natalie?"

"It's a small town, small hotel," she said leaning a little closer to him, "you'd be surprised at how fast word travels."

John motioned to the bartender for another beer, hoping the lawyer would take the hint and leave. No such luck. She edged even closer and said in a coy voice, "And don't think I didn't notice the way you changed the subject when I brought up the baby's paternity. That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

So that was the real purpose of this discussion. "The test?" he said.

"Natalie's lawyer is trying to block the test," she said.

"I know," he said, "I don't think you can legally force a woman to risk the life of her unborn child."

"The risk is incredibly slight," she protested.

"Well it's more than she's willing to take," he said.

"But surely this must be bothering you too," she said, "You're putting on a nice show but you know there's no way to be sure this baby is yours."

"Natalie says she's sure," he said, "I trust the mother's intuition."

"You trust the word of a woman who was sexually involved with three men at the same time," she said.

"If you're here to trash her-" he began angrily but she held up a hand in surrender.

"I just meant, surely you would like proof," she said.

He shrugged. "I wouldn't mind," he said, "but I don't mind waiting a few months for verification either."

She stared at him for a moment; he didn't know her well enough to be certain but he suspected she was frustrated with his failure to react the way she'd hoped. "You'll forgive my confusion, but I don't understand how you can be so calm about this issue. Unless you know something I don't."

John could tell she was suspicious and the last thing he needed was for this woman to jeopardize his investigation by searching for more information on him. Not to mention what could happen to Natalie if the truth got out before she was ready. "Because it doesn't matter," he said, "whether this baby is biologically mine or not, it doesn't change the way I feel about it or Natalie."

Evangeline looked even more thrown by that response. "Wow," she said, "that's an admirable attitude. But if you happen to change your mind-"

"Why do you care," he cut her off, sick of this conversation, "the way I feel about the whole thing shouldn't really be relevant in the divorce proceedings."

"It would give the petition more sway if all three potential fathers agreed," she said. Something changed in her face and he realized she'd just said something she hadn't meant to. Suddenly the answer to another nagging question snapped into focus.

"You've already talked to Cramer," he said.

"Mr. Cramer is concerned," she said, "like Mr. Vega he wants to know whether this child is his. He has a right to-"

"Small hotel…" he said repeating her earlier words. "Cramer's the one who told you Natalie moved out."

"I don't really see how that's relevant," she snapped.

"You've got Paul Cramer spying for you?" he asked.

"It happened to come up during our conversation a short time ago," she said sullenly.

"Interesting," John said nodding slowly, "Just be careful. I'm not sure Paul Cramer is really who an ambitious attorney wants to be connected to."

"Anyway," she said tensely as she put a business card on the bar in front of him, "I should go. But if you change your mind, please give me a call."

Natalie was watching television when her phone rang. Rex had gone to Ultraviolet and wouldn't be back till after midnight so she was hoping the fluffy sitcoms would distract her enough to keep her mind off John for a little while. They weren't working. When she saw his name on the caller ID she seriously thought about not answering but decided that would be immature. "Hello?" she said tensely.

"Hey," his voice still made her pulse quicken a little, "I just wanted to give you a heads up—I just ran into Cristian's lawyer."

"Yeah?" she said anxiously.

"She tried to get me to back Cristian on the paternity test. I refused but it seems that Cramer already agreed. And she seems to have him watching you."

"You're kidding me!" Natalie said sitting up straight.

"He told her that you moved out of my place."

Natalie cursed. "You told her the story?"

"Yeah," he said, "and she seemed to buy it."

"Good," she said.

"Anyway," he said feeling awkward again, "I just wanted to let you know about Cramer."

"Thanks," she said.

"And you're still doing okay."

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Good. Well I guess I'll see you."

"Yeah," she said, "I'll see you."

Natalie hung up the phone fuming. She could almost, almost excuse Cristian's behavior on this; he was her husband and they hadbeen in love once. No doubt he was feeling a lot of conflicted emotions and she could understand why he wanted to know if the child was his. But Paul had always known he was just a fling; their relationship was about sex and anger and forbidden things. Paul didn't care about this baby except in terms of what it could get him. And how dare he spy on her for Evangeline Williamson!

She snapped off the TV, grabbed her purse, and headed out the door.

Michael McBain scribbled his final notes on the chart just legible enough to suffice. He was supposed to have been off half an hour ago but if he'd learned anything about becoming a doctor it was that scheduled times didn't mean a whole lot. Particularly when pulling a shift in the ER. Truth be told he was shocked he was getting off as early as he was; then he saw who was walking through the sliding glass doors and realized he wouldn't be getting home as soon as he'd dared to hope.

Natalie's left cheek was swollen and beginning to bruise and her lower lip was bleeding and her clothes were rumpled as she staggered through the emergency room doors. Michael's heart jumped. He had mixed feelings about Natalie—he'd never had a problem with her personally but he wasn't completely thrilled at the strange and sudden relationship she'd developed with John. Nonetheless the battered woman who had just walked into the hospital might be carrying his brother's child

"Natalie?" he said walking quickly towards her, "what happened? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she said, "but I took a pretty hard fall. I need to make sure my baby's all right."

Michael nodded; clearly her injuries were the result of a lot more than a bad fall, but he wouldn't waste time now arguing. "Does John know? Do you want me to call him?"

"No!" she said sharply. If he'd had any doubts that she was hiding something regarding what had happened to her that completely erased them. She could tell from Michael's expression he was about to argue with her so she said, "I'm just here to make sure the baby's all right, I don't want to worry him if I don't have to."

"Okay, Natalie," Michael said gently, "but what if the baby isn't all right?"

Just the thought of this clearly upset her. Trying to stop her jaw from quivering she said, "Obviously I'll tell him if there's anything he needs to know."

"That's not what I meant," he said, "I just don't think you should be alone."

"I'm fine," she insisted, "please just check and make sure my baby is."

Michael sighed. "Okay, this way."

He started to lead her towards one of the exam rooms but one of his colleagues put a hand on his shoulder. "You're off Dr. McBain, I can get this one."

"It's no problem, Dr. Anders," he said, but Natalie stepped away from him and towards the other doctor.

"Don't stay on my account," she said, "I'd actually rather you didn't."

Michael nodded and watched her walk away with Dr. Anders. She was determined to keep John out of this, but whatever had happened to her it was bad and he didn't know if he could just let it go. Finally an idea occurred to him. Walking far enough away from the equipment that he could use his cell he dialed his brother's number.

"McBain."

"How interesting? This is McBain too."

"What's up Mike?"

"I was just getting off work. Wondered if you'd like to get together for a drink or something."

"Now?"

"What? Is 11:30 too late for you? I had the impression you didn't sleep that much."

"I don't," John sighed, "Okay. Where do you want to meet?"

"Actually, I wondered if you'd mind picking me up here at the hospital."

John sounded surprised by the request but didn't question it. "Um… okay, sure I can do that."

"Great! Just come in to the ER. I'll be around."

John hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment as though it would tell him what Michael was up to. He could tell from his brother's tone as well as the strange request that something was wrong, but hell if he had any idea what. Well, he thought pulling himself up off the couch, the only way to find out was to head on over there.

"Hey Deb," Michael said catching Dr. Anders as she emerged from the room she'd taken Natalie to, "How is she?"

She looked grim but all she said was, "I'm waiting on an ultrasound machine."

"You think it looks bad?" he guessed from her expression.

"It's not that," she said, "Did she tell you what happened?"

"She said she took a fall," he said, "I didn't exactly buy it but-"

"Those injuries definitely did not come from a fall. Not all of them anyway. And some of them are… suspicious."

"How so?" Michael asked.

The other doctor leaned closer and spoke softly, "There's bruising on her thighs, some one her upper arms that looks like hand prints."

Michael had seen similar injuries enough to know what she was hinting at. "Did you do a rape kit?"

Debra Anders shook her head. "She won't let us. Said she doesn't need any care for herself, just her baby. I tried to explain that her health affects the baby no matter what, but she won't listen."

"Do you mind if I talk to her?" Michael asked.

She looked towards the door of the room and sighed. "If you think it'll do any good, go ahead."

Natalie had changed into a hospital gown and was lying on the exam table staring at the ceiling; Michael could see tears in her eyes. "Hey," he said gently as he came into the room, "Dr. Anders just went to check on the ultrasound machine."

"Good," she said, "I need to make sure this baby's okay. She shouldn't have to pay for the stupid things I do."

The words sounded as though they were spoken to herself as much as anyone and Michael wasn't even sure if she'd meant for him to hear. Walking a little closer to her he asked, "Natalie, who did this to you?"

"No one," she mumbled.

"Dr. Anders said… you know letting them do a rape kit now doesn't mean you have to press charges. You can take your time to decide, maybe talk to your Uncle Bo get a legal perspective, but this has to be done now."

"It's not necessary," she said.

"Natalie-"

"He didn't rape me, Michael," she said looking him in the eye, "rape kit won't show anything."

"Okay," he said. She sounded sincere, but that still didn't answer all his questions. "Who's he?" he asked quietly.

Natalie closed her eyes and shook her head. "I just want to make sure everything's fine with the baby."

"All right," Michael nodded, "Dr. Anders will be right back."

When John arrived at the hospital he found his brother standing at the nurse's station with a clipboard chart in front of him. "You ready?" he asked.

"Sure," Michael said, "I just need to finish this up." John waited impatiently for Michael to finish with the chart, but he couldn't help noticing that he was doing very little writing and glancing towards one door every couple seconds.

"Okay," he finally said, "what's going on?"

Michael looked at him innocently, "What do you mean?"

John slapped his hand down on the counter a little more forcefully than he'd meant to but after his earlier conversation with the not-quite-as-coy-as-she-thinks Evangeline Williamson he really didn't have the patience to do the same thing with his brother. "You call me up out of the blue after barely speaking to me the last couple weeks and want me to have a drink with you. Then you insist I meet you here and you stall, pretending to chart while staring at that door over there."

Michael searched for an answer that would not violate doctor/patient confidentiality but still keep John here long enough to see what he needed to see. Fortunately for him the door to the exam room opened and Dr. Anders emerged with Natalie. Compared with her appearance when she first wandered into the ER, she looked significantly better—the blood had been cleaned from her lip, her clothes were smoothed and her face positively shone with relief. If it hadn't been for the bruise on her cheek which was now turning a deep blue, no one would have guessed something had happened to her.

"I think at this point you don't have anything to worry about," Dr. Anders was saying, "but if you have any spotting or cramping call your OB immediately or come in here."

Michel turned back to his brother who was staring at Natalie in shock; Natalie's gaze turned and landed on John for the first time and she froze.

"Natalie?" John asked making his way towards her, "what happened?"

Ignoring his question she turned a suddenly angry glare to Michael. "You called him? I told you not to!"

"No," Michael tried to protest, "we were meeting for drinks and-"

"Forget him," John said not taking his eyes off her, "what happened? Who did this to you?"

"It's nothing," Natalie said looking at the floor, "I'm fine. I just came in to make sure the baby was okay and the doctor says everything looks normal-"

John reached out and let his fingers graze the bruise on her face which was starting to spread to underneath her left eye. "This isn't 'nothing,'" he said in a voice that was low but intense.

"It's not something you need to worry about," she said in an equally meaningful tone.

Suddenly something occurred to John; he took a slight step back—just enough that he could watch her facial expression. "Where did you go after I called and told you about Cramer and Cristian's lawyer?"

The long moment of silence that followed his question was all the confirmation he needed and he barely heard her when she mumbled, "No where. This isn't what you think."

"That son of a bitch," he said as rage started coursing through his body, "I'll kill him."

"John, no!" Natalie said sharply, "he's not worth it."

Whether John heard her or not was impossible to tell, but at that moment he turned on his heel and began marching to the door.

"John wait!" Natalie called, jogging a few steps after him. He didn't slow down and it was evident she'd never catch him at his determined gate. She stopped just inside the door, staring after him, and praying her stupidity wouldn't cause John any more trouble than she already had.

To be continued…