A/N: I wanted to send a thank you out to all my readers today. You guys are great. I love writing, but writing with a active audience, ok, that just rocks! A special thanks to Gobears, and Bronzy (feel better chica!) and to a special mention to someone who got beat down upon, but thoroughly shouldn't have had to deal with it, WordRunner. Also, to KCLM for sending a call out for hugs. I've been there. I know what it's like to need a hug and have to ask for one. I gotcha covered chica! **huggers**

I hope you enjoy this entry. Now, off we go!

The CT Scan came out clear. Again. So, true to their words, I was discharged from the hospital. My mother, to make sure I was perfectly fine, set some rules down, and my attending physician agreed with her, the bastard.

I was not allowed to fly for two weeks. Which, of course meant I couldn't go back to New York, nor Vegas.

I was not allowed to stress myself because of work for a week, so Diana was told to not forward any calls to me, and, in return, she was not allowed to take any calls from me.

My diet for the next two weeks was going to be hell. I am not allowed to eat pepperoni, salami, or jerky. No more cheddar and peanut butter sandwiches for two weeks, no soy products, no beans, pickles or olives and no alcohol.

As if that wasn't the worst part, I was also told I was not allowed to have sex for at least a week.

Gideon looked about as excited about that last bit as I was.

Mom had wanted me to stay at their house for the first couple of days I was out of the hospital, but I refused. I would much rather stay in my place in Escala with very few eyes watching me like a hawk, then at my mother's.

Gideon had stayed by my side the whole night, and listened closely, asking questions, and confirming what the nurse and doctor had said before discharging me. He gathered up my few items in the room, and when the orderly arrived, walked with us, holding my hand, as we were taken to the exit.

Despite my protesting, he helped me out of the mandatory wheel chair and into the car. He climbed in after me, and once he sat down, pulled me into his arms as Stevenson drove away from the hospital and towards home.

Once at Escala, he helped me out of the car, stood with me at the elevator, and escorted me to my place. Once inside, he guided me to the media room. I was surprised when I saw that a new sofa was in there, and it was a sleeper sofa. It had a blanket thrown over the side, and was piled with a half dozen pillows, just the way I like it. If that wasn't enough to put a smile on my lips, the popcorn machine was popping. I don't know who he had come in here and got the popcorn going, but it made me smile, smelling that delicious buttery smell. A scent that washed out the nasty hospital smell that had wanted to remain with me.

I settled down into my mad pile of pillows, Gideon shaking his head at me and smiling as he went to get us a bowl of popcorn. "What would you like to drink," he asked. I almost said a Riesling, and then remembered the rules.

"A soda is fine with me," I said with a sigh.

He came back from the wet bar with the popcorn and two sodas. He handed me mine, but I was surprised to see he didn't have wine in his.

"If you can't then I won't," he said with a sly smile and then kissed my nose. He crawled up onto the sofa bed with me, covering us with the thin blanket. I hadn't noticed he had retrieved the remote for the television, but once he was cuddled around me, he used the remote to dim the lights and turn the tv on. "What would you like to watch," he asked, his head resting against mine.

I didn't want to watch tv. It was the last thing on my to-do list. I'd much rather make out with the delicious man next to me, snog my brains out and find bliss deep in a orgasm... but we couldn't.

"Gideon, I know this may not seem like the best time for it, but can we talk," I asked, biting my lip, knowing there was a chance he wouldn't be happy.

"Are you sure you want to?" I nodded slowly. "Okay, what would you like to talk about?"

"Well," I started, and then paused. I turned my head to look at him, getting lost momentarily into his beautiful blue lagoon eyes. "I think that we should... make a rule that we don't go to bed mad at each other."

"That is a good idea, but, I have a feeling that we will violate that rule."

"I know, but we can at least try to honor it..."

He smiled at me and nodded. "Very well then. It's something we can aim for." He kissed my forehead and snagged a few pieces of popcorn. "Now, what's on your mind?"

"You are," I said, trying to not sound seductive.

"Mmmm I like that." I must have failed.

"Yes, I know, but, not like that right now." He nodded, understanding. He cuddled closer, his left arm wrapping around my shoulders, making me feel safe and loved. I closed my eyes, inhaling his scent. God he smelled so good. "I want to discuss sleeping arrangements." I felt him tense around me, but I knew he probably would have reacted that way. "What is your biggest fear about sleeping with me?"

"That's a... a big question," He said slowly. I nodded, and waited for him to hopefully find a answer he is willing to tell me. "I guess, beyond hurting you, which I would never ever intentionally do. I hope you know that," he said to me, pausing, his eyes wide and searching mine in hope that I did know that. That I did understand that.

"I know honey. I know that."

"Well, besides that, I think... I'm afraid you will see me. What happens when I dream." I nodded, understanding that. I remember the first time I saw it during our study session. I can understand this fear. I told him as much. "Yeah, but, I think they have grown stronger since then."

"One night at a time then." I inhaled deeply, held my breath, and when I was ready to ask my next question, the only thing that left my lips was that breath.

"Just ask it," he said with a small laugh.

I nodded, and just spit it out. "Are you opposed to wearing handcuffs in bed?"

He pulled away from me when I asked that, but it was to look at me, to see my whole face. "What do you mean," he asked quietly.

"Well, I was thinking," I began, hoping I wasn't opening a Pandora's Box. "If you weren't opposed to it, and still had this fear of hurting me, that... maybe you could, you know... go to bed handcuffed."

He rubbed his chin and his bottom lip with his thumb, carefully weighing that suggestion. "You know, I am not sure. I could try it I suppose." I smiled at that, hoping it will work. "Any other suggestions?"

"Well... If we have to sleep in separate rooms, besides a lock on your door, I could use one on mine, and there are alarms you can get for the doors that would go off to wake you up." He smiled, laying back down and cuddling up against me.

"You have been looking into this, haven't you?" I shrugged. Of course I have. He ran a gentle finger along my jawline, and then brought his thumb up my chin and began tracing my lips. "God, I can't believe we have to wait a week."

"I know what you mean," I said, muttering silent curses at my mother and that damned attending physician. "So... Ummm... Are there any questions you want to ask me?"

"Oh, there's a few. But if I ask you something and you don't want to talk about it, hey, that's fine. I understand, ok?" I nodded, smiling. "When did you start getting these headaches?"

"That's a easy answer," I said quietly. I felt his finger entwine with mine, and I gave him a polite smile in return.

"Too hard to answer," he asked after a few minutes had passed.

"No... It's just something I try to not think about." He raised our hands to his lips, kissing mine before settling it down in my lap. My thumb rolls over some of his knuckles and he sighed deeply.

"You don't have to answer it."

"No, you should know." I took a sip of my drink, moistening my lips before I tell him. "You know that mom and dad adopted all of us?" He nodded. "I was the first one they got. See, my dad, my biological dad that is, was Papa Cari's brother. I was five when my parents died. We were going somewhere. I don't remember where. It was raining. I remember that the car hit something, and my dad lost control of the car. The next memory I have is waking up and being very very cold and wet. I remember crawling out of the car, and I wanted to find my parents. I was covered in blood. I was so scared. All that red blood, all over me, my hair, my clothes. The rain started to pour down, and it was thundering and lightning, and it washed a lot of the blood off of me. I don't remember if I saw my mom and dad after they died. It's not something I ever wanted to search my mind for. The headaches started shortly after the accident. They said I had had a severe concussion. About a year later they diagnosed the headaches as Post-Traumatic Headaches. I have had them ever since. Lately, though, they have been getting worse. Mom wants me to keep a journal to help keep track of them. Thinks we can find a pattern. I doubt it though."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know about your parents," Gideon said quietly, pulling me closer to him and kissing my temple.

"Thank you," I whispered. "Life is... weird. I mean, I wish I they had never died, but if they hadn't, look at all I wouldn't know. I would never have had the relationships I have with Elliot, Christian and Mia like I do now. Sometimes, at night, I think about that. Try to picture what it would have been like. I trace back my life path, all the decisions I made that were guided simply by knowing Mama Grace and Papa Cari and my siblings."

I leaned my head back onto his shoulder, closing my eyes in thought. Life could have been so different. "Sometimes, I think that if they had been around, I would probably have been more like Mia, or maybe more like her friends. Stuck up little snobs who expect the world from everyone without having to do a thing for it."

"No, I think you are wrong on that account." I turned my head, looking up to him. I could feel his heartbeat in his chest, a soothing rhythm. "I think that your drive to do things would have come from a different source, but I don't think you would have turned out like the little snobs."

"I don't know," I said quietly, my mind going through my choices again.

"You are a very smart, quick-witted, strong woman. That doesn't come from how you live. That's in your blood. What kind of person was your dad?" I had to pause for a second. No one had ever asked me a question like that before.

"Papa Cari used to talk to me sometimes, about my dad. Normally after I would get in trouble. He used to tell me I was like him," I said, thinking back to the quiet talks on the dock, just him and I. "My dad used to find trouble easy, he would say. And that he loved to joke around. Sometimes, when he would talk about him, Papa Cari would get this look on his face... He said my dad was a protector. Made sure everyone was treated fairly."

Gideon nodded, kissing my temple softly. "Like you," he whispered to me. "What about your mom? What was she like?"

"I... I am not sure. I know she had been a foster child. That she left the system at 18, and married at 19. I don't know if dad's family was happy about that. Papa Cari would always brush over it quickly, ya' know?" He nodded again, quietly listening. "I do know they were madly in love with each other."

"How do you know that," he asked, his fingers softly stroking mine.

"Mama Grace told me. God, I had completely forgotten about this." I took a sip of my soda, and smiled. "I had had the chicken pox I think. It was very late at night, and I had crawled out of my bed... I think I was seven or eight at the time? I remember going to the kitchen, and she was there, sitting at the table. She had a glass of wine, and she was staring at a picture. God, how could I have forgotten this?"

"What happened," he asked softly.

"I think she heard me come in, cause she turned and saw me, and then when I got closer, she picked me up and sat me on her lap. I... I don't remember what she told me. I remember she had said they had been best friends and that she missed her very much..." I stopped, upset that I couldn't remember what Mama Grace had said.

"You were ill, honey. That's probably why you don't remember." I nodded, and laid there, in his arms, closing my eyes. "I would have been amazing, if your parents had been around, helped you, raised you, taught you what they knew. But, if they had, who would you be now? I think you would still be the strong, powerful magnet you are now. Pulling people towards you, creating a amazing business, but, I think your drive, or your goal would have been different. And, maybe you and I would never be what we are."

"I know," I whispered. "Have I ever told you how glad I am you are in my life?"

"No, but you don't need to. I know it." I smiled, closing my eyes again as he placed another soft kiss on my temple. "And I am so glad you are a part of my life, Sha. I love you."

My eyes were almost closed when he said that. But now they are wide open. I sat up, twisting to see his full face. He sat there, watching me. There was a slight edge of shock registering in his eyes, but I had to know. I had to ask him.

"Do you? I mean, did that just, you know, slip out? Or, do you?"

"It... did just slip out," he said slowly, his face registering what he said, what he meant, and maybe, there was a little bit of him trying to figure out how to take it back, white-wash it. Say it came out sounding different then what he meant. "It did just slip out," he repeated. "But, I do mean it. I do love you. I know you may not feel the same, or ready to say it, and you don't have to be.

"Those words, people say them all the time. People have said them to me, and never meant it. Sha, you mean so much to me, more then just those three words. That's why I never said them before." I nodded, knowing what he meant.

"I never say them, until I feel it, I mean really feel it, in my heart," I said softly.

Gideon nodded, and I watched as something changed on him, on his face, in his eyes. "And you don't feel it for me," he whispered, rejection echoing in his voice.

"No," I said softly, my fingers reaching for his chin, raising his face to look at me. To really look at me and see my eyes. "No," I repeated just as softly. "I feel something much more in my heart then just those three words. I Love You."