As it turns out, no one in the group feels like doing any more walking and sightseeing. So we spend the next hour or so driving around Columbus, admiring the sights.

I have no idea how Jason manages to navigate the heavy traffic with such confidence, but nothing seems to phase him. I thought driving in Warwick was overwhelming, but if I had to drive in a city this size, I would be terrified.

As Jason stops for yet another red light, I think back to a few short hours ago when I was practically climbing out the windows with excitement. Playing hopscotch. Steve twirling me in the air. Now, it feels like I can barely keep my eyes open.

Of course, I know what's happening. The stress of being approached by those two men has sent me into a shutdown. It feels as though there's a heavy fog in my brain, and I can't seem to find my way out.

Of course, being non-verbal isn't helping.

Even if I could speak, though, I don't think I could express how thankful I am for the team's consideration of me.

Jason glances frequently at me in the rear view mirror, making sure I'm okay. Grant twists around in his seat every so often to give me a smile. Amy offers to braid my hair to get it out of my face. Kris and Dustin both address comments to me, making sure to ask only yes-or-no questions that I can nod or shake my head in response too. And Steve and Tango go out of their way to try to make me laugh or coax a smile from me.

"So hot," Kris grumbles from behind me, interrupting my thoughts.

From the front, Grant teases her, "I can't turn the air conditioning up any higher, it's up as far as it will go!"

"Well, I can't feel it," Kris pouts.

"It's smothering back here," Amy agrees.

"It is a little warm," Dustin comments.

Jason and Grant exchange a quick glance. "Okay, how about we stop somewhere for ice cream?" That suggestion is met with a round of applause, and I give a happy wiggle. I love ice cream.

"It seems like Summer approves," Steve observes.

I grin and duck my head.

When Jason finally pulls up in front of an ice cream shop, Grant chuckles. "Do they sell ice cream? Or unicorns?" There are several picnic tables scattered about on the concrete patio in front of the shop, and all of them are painted pastel pink and baby blue.

"For Pete's sake," Steve mumbles.

"What's the matter?" Kris teases in a sing-song voice. "Too girly for your taste?" Steve doesn't even dignify that with a reply.

As we scan the menu, neatly printed on a blackboard outside the walk-up window, I stand near the back of the group. What will I do when it's my turn to order? Maybe I just won't order anything.

As if he's reading my mind, Dustin glances around. When he spots me, he motions for me to come and stand by him. "Would you like me to order for you?"

Yes, please! I give him my biggest smile and then point to the menu.

"Strawberry sundae, huh? To match your strawberry hair?" Tango, standing behind us, tugs on my braid.

I quickly turn my head to look at him, and the end of my braid whips through the air and nearly catches him across the face. "Watch it!" he protests. "Jeez, Summer, you could use that hair as a weapon. You almost took my nose off that time."

I giggle faintly.

"Now that's a welcome sound," Grant says, grinning broadly. Embarrassed, I try to hide behind Dustin, which makes everyone laugh.

Dustin and I are the next ones to step up to the window. Dustin orders a cone, and then glances at me. "And Summer will have a small strawberry sundae."

"Summer? What a pretty name," the woman taking our orders comments. I smile at her in thanks. "Do you want walnuts on the top, hon?"

Dustin looks at me questioningly, and I shake my head. "No, thank you," he tells the woman behind the counter. She gives us an odd look, but prepares my sundae without further comment. That is, until she's almost ready to serve us.

My hands flutter with excitement when I see my sundae almost ready. "Thank you very much," Dustin tells our server, and I quickly tap his arm. "And Summer says thank you, as well."

This time the woman stares at me in curiosity as she hands me my sundae. "Poor dear, she can't speak at all, can she? Are you her caretaker?" This question is addressed to Dustin.

I freeze, and look at Dustin helplessly.

"I'm her friend," Dustin says firmly. "And she certainly can speak. She's just resting her voice today."

If I wasn't holding a dish of ice cream, I think I'd hug Dustin right then and there. But I can see from the blank look in the woman's eyes, that she still doesn't understand.

"Bye-bye hon! Enjoy your sundae!" She waves at me, and her voice soars up a full octave, as if she's addressing a two-year-old.

Dustin quickly ushers me away from the window. My hands are starting to shake again; this time with fury. Who the... who does she think she is? I'm not a baby! You don't need to talk to me like I'm in kindergarten!

"Some people have very little knowledge of anything outside their own little bubble," Dustin says in a soft voice. I take a deep breath and try to control my emotions as we make our way towards the picnic tables.

Steve, of course, has chosen a seat at a blue table, and is currently razzing Tango, who has plopped down defiantly at a pink one just opposite. "I don't know, Dave," he baits Tango. "I think you're in danger of losing your man card. First the pink headphones, and now a pink picnic table."

"They're red headphones," Tango protests vehemently. It's an old argument, one they've been over a dozen times before. "And there's nothing wrong with a pink picnic table. It's just a table."

Amy takes a seat next to Tango, while Kris chooses to join Steve. "I like blue," she comments, tossing her hair over one shoulder.

"I think I have to agree with Steve on this one," Jason comments. "That pink makes me feel like I'm in a Barbie house."

"In some countries, pink is actually seen as a masculine color," Dustin points out as he joins Tango and Amy.

Grant gives us a lopsided grin as he sits down on a low stone wall, in the shade of an overhanging shrub. "I'm voting undecided on this one," he declares. "Cooler in the shade. You joining me, Summer?"

"No, sit with us, Summer," Amy protests. "We need a tiebreaker."

"Summer knows that blue is where it's at," Steve says confidently. "She likes purple, and that's close to blue."

I bite my lip. My ice cream is melting in its dish, but all I want right now is somewhere to be alone and think.

"Summer?" I haven't even noticed that Jason has gotten back up from the table until he's standing next to me. "You feeling okay? Anything you need?"

For a moment, a surge of frustration flares up in me. I know the team cares about me, but right now all I want is to not be treated like a porcelain doll... and to be able to talk.

I point to the Yukon. Jason looks from me to the SUV and back again, not comprehending. Finally I point to myself, and then to the Yukon. Understanding finally dawns in his eyes. "You want to go sit in the Yukon? Summer, are you sure?"

I nod as firmly as I can.

Jason hesitates, then shrugs. "Yukon it is." He reaches in his pocket for the keys.

"Summer, where are you going? Come sit with us!" Tango sounds like he's ready to say more, when Jason's voice stops him.

"Summer needs some space right now," he says firmly, and I almost sag in relief.

Jason rolls down each of the windows in the Yukon and makes sure there's enough air circulating. Then, with a brief pat on my shoulder, he walks back to join the rest of the team.

Finally alone, I crawl into the very backseat of the Yukon. Kicking off my shoes, I sit sideways and pull my feet up onto the seat, tucking my dish of ice cream into the space between my knees and my chest. Safe.

I can still hear the murmur of conversation from the team, but it sounds far away and dreamy and I can't make out any of the words. My plastic spoon clicks against the side of the dish. The Yukon's engine ticks faintly as it cools off. From somewhere, I hear a sparrow tittering to itself.

All the sounds run together, while I slowly eat my ice cream and try to process everything that's happened today. A part of me feels guilty for not being out there with the rest of the team, laughing at Steve and Tango's stupid jokes, but I know I need time to sit quietly and just feel.

Grant comes to check on me once. He rests his arms on the door and peers in through the open window at me. "Not too hot in here, is it? I can run the Yukon and turn on the air conditioning for you," he offers.

I shake my head and give him a thumbs up and a smile. I'm fine, Grant. Thanks.

"Allrighty then."

My ice cream finished, I tap my spoon idly on the side of the empty dish and lean my head against the seat back. Closing my eyes, I listen.

Grant is talking animatedly about something, with Jason's brief rumble answering him. There's a pause, and then Kris lets out a peal of laughter. Now Amy sounds like she's trying to explain something, and Tango keeps interrupting her. She lets out a strangled scream of frustration, and I chuckle to myself. Tango has a way of doing that to a person sometimes.

I'm amusing myself by trying to guess what they're talking about, when I hear footsteps crunching in the gravel. I glance up, expecting to see Jason or Grant coming to check on me again.

Kris.

"Hey," she says softly, looking in through the window at me. "Mind if I join you?"

I shake my head and extend my arm in a "be my guest" flourish.

I'm surprised when she crawls right into the backseat with me and copies my pose, with her back against the opposite window and her feet on the seat. After a moment, though, I realize that I don't mind the closeness. It feels comforting, somehow.

We sit in silence for a while, content to be alone with our thoughts. Finally Kris speaks up.

"Hey, Summer? I, um... I have to ask you something. Well, tell you something."

I look at her curiously, but she's not looking directly at me. It gives me a chance to study her. Her blue eyes look serious, a small furrow between her eyebrows, and no trace of her dimples to be seen. I'm not the best with facial expressions, but it's clear she's bothered by something or has something on her mind.

"I want to apologize," she blurts abruptly, and I'm taken aback. That wasn't what I was expecting.

Taking a deep breath, she continues. "About... about what happened, back at the restaurant? I shouldn't have been teasing you about Steve. You were already super uncomfortable about it, and I made it worse. I'm sorry."

I'm shaking my head before she even finishes. The last thing I want is for her to feel guilty. It's not your fault, Kris. I overreacted, that's all.

The words won't come, and I grumble faintly. Come on Summer. You can do this.

I carefully unlock my jaw and take a deep breath. "Kris."

Unfortunately, that's about as far as I can go, but it's enough to make Kris look up with a surprised and pleased expression. Then, her face brightens even further. "Oh! I have an idea. Dustin said he did this with you."

She pulls her cell phone from her pocket and hands it to me, and I take it gratefully. After thinking for a moment, I type.

Not your fault. I overreacted.

I hold the phone up, and she peers at it. "No, you didn't," she contradicts. "I should have noticed right off that you weren't comfortable. I wonder..." her voice trails off, and she picks at a thread on her jean shorts.

"I wonder..." she swallows hard and starts again. "I wonder if you would have been able to deal with those two jerks better if I hadn't upset you beforehand."

I stare at her in disbelief, feeling a flush creeping over my face. "NO." I say loudly, and Kris looks at me in shock. I'm typing furiously.

I freeze sometimes. All my life. Wrong place, wrong time, idiots. Not you.

It's slightly incoherent, but Kris nods slowly as she reads what I've written. I can tell she's not not quite convinced, though.

Grabbing the phone back, I type, You're my best friend. You understand me the most.

Her cheeks turn pink with pleasure when she reads those sentences. "Thanks, Summer," she says sincerely. "That's about the nicest thing anyone ever said to me."

We grin at each other, and I hold my hand up. She carefully links her pinkie finger with mine. "Friends?"

"Always," I mouth at her.

As I think about it, I realize that what I've said is true. I consider all the members of TAPS my friends, but Kris is "my person". She's been protective of me from day one, always making sure that I'm okay. I'm really pretty lucky to have a friend like her.

Later that evening, I flop down on the bed in my hotel room and stare at the ceiling. After we finished our ice cream, we all agreed to head back to our hotel and take it easy for the rest of the evening. If all goes according to schedule, the tech van will be repaired tomorrow morning and we can finally head back to Rhode Island.

My thoughts are interrupted by a soft knock on the door. It's a good thing I haven't gotten into my pajamas yet, I grumble mentally as I roll off the bed.

"Hi!"

It's Kris. She's changed into sweats, but still manages to look perky and wide-awake. "Want to come over to mine and Amy's room? We thought we might watch a little TV and chill, you know."

I hesitate, and she hurries to add, "You don't have to, if you're too tired. We just thought you might like to."

"Yes," I tell her with a smile. I'm starting to be semi-verbal now instead of fully non-verbal, and I'm feeling a little bit better.

Amy has told me before that she and Kris have often shared a room for the sake of convenience, especially when they were the only two female members of TAPS. It makes sense, I muse as I follow Kris down the hallway. Kris and Amy are both social and outgoing, and enjoy the company of others without getting overwhelmed by it, like I sometimes do.

"Make yourself at home," Kris tells me, belly-flopping across her bed and then wriggling sideways to make room for me.

Amy grins at us. "Kris raided the downstairs vending machine," she says, nodding towards a stash of candy bars and chips piled on the desk. "You can grab whatever you want."

She tosses the remote to Kris. "There's not much on... should we rent a movie or something?"

"Let me look," Kris says, grabbing the remote and starting to flick through the channels.

Just then, a soft rap comes on the door.

"Want to get that, Summer?" Kris is engrossed in the TV.

Opening the door, I find Tango standing on the other side. "Hey there." He looks surprised to see me, and I swing the door wide for him to come in.

"Oh great," Amy huffs as soon as Tango walks in. "So much for girls' night."

I pause and look at her uncertainly. Am I... did I do the wrong thing again? Should I not have let him in?

"Amy!" Kris tosses a pillow at her. "Quit doing that, Summer can't tell if you're serious or not."

"Oops." Amy looks slightly embarrassed.

"Fine, I'll just leave," Tango teases, turning as if to go.

"You'd better stay," Amy calls behind him. "Summer will be mad at me if you leave... she'll think I kicked you out."

I look at her, horrified, and she starts to laugh. "Only kidding, Summer. But seriously," she continues. "Why don't you go find Steve and Dustin and invite them over too? We're going to watch a movie... if Kris can find one, that is."

"I'm working on it," Kris mumbles, her eyes still glued to the screen.

"Sounds good to me." Tango leaves and returns minutes later with Steve and Dustin, who make themselves at home.

"What are we watching?" Dustin says, sitting on the floor and leaning his back against one of the beds.

"This," Kris says triumphantly, turning up the volume. It turns out to be an old horror movie filmed back in the fifties, about a monster taking over New York City. I'm not a fan of horror films, but it doesn't take me long to realize that the special effects are more funny than scary.

I sit cross-legged on the corner of Kris's bed and smile to myself.

Dustin, sitting on the floor, is gesturing with a potato chip and trying to explain the cultural relevance of this film back in its day, and not one of us is paying attention. Steve keeps trying to imitate the monster's roars, but only succeeds in sounding like a cross between Tarzan and a foghorn. Amy and Tango are loudly critiquing the special effects, while Kris keeps begging everyone to shut up and watch the movie.

Regardless of the fact that the monster probably wouldn't scare a six-year-old, I hide my eyes every time a close-up is shown. Tango, of course, finds this hilarious.

"What's the matter, Puck?" he teases. "Is little Summer afraid of the big monster?"

"No," I insist, and promptly hide my eyes again as the monster takes a bite out of the Empire State Building.

"Who would have thought that someone fearless around ghosts would be scared of a movie," Steve comments from his chair in the corner. I pause, unsure if he's just given me a compliment or an insult.

"Not scared," is the response I finally settle on.

"Oh yeah?" Tango has a devious twinkle in his eyes. Without warning, he lunges at me. "Rrraargh!"

I scramble backwards, pretending to be terrified. Naturally, I end up overbalancing and tumble off the side of the bed, landing with a thud. Fortunately I'm not hurt, just embarrassed.

"Puck?" I feel the bed shake as Tango leans over the side to look down at me. "You okay?"

I moan and close my eyes, letting myself go limp.

"Summer?" Now Tango sounds worried. "What happened? Did you hit your head?"

"Now what did you do, Dave?" Steve sounds exasperated.

I wait until I'm sure that Tango is leaning over me, and then my eyes pop open. "Boo!" I squeal, startling him. I take advantage of his distraction to reach up and snatch the white newsboy cap off his head, tossing it across the room.

"Crazy Puck," Tango mutters, climbing off the bed and stepping over me to retrieve his hat. I giggle, and he rolls his eyes.

Tango is just bending over to pick up his cap from where it landed under the desk, when we all hear a firm knock. Since he's the closest to the door, he answers it.

"So this is where you all disappeared to," Grant comments as he and Jason enter the room. I hastily get up off the floor and sit on the end of Kris's bed.

"Join the party," Amy invites, tossing a bag of chips across the room.

Jason easily catches it one-handed, and I remember that he used to play softball. He sets it down on the desk without opening it, however. "Actually, we came looking for Summer."

I sit straight up at that, and Kris hastily mutes the movie. There's an awkward pause. "Uh... do you guys want us to leave?" Steve looks as if he's about to rise from his chair, but Grant waves for him to stay seated.

"No, this concerns everyone, so you can stay put."

I twist my hands anxiously together and wait silently.

The bed sags with Jason's weight as he sits beside me. "You seem like you're feeling a lot better," he comments, and I nod shyly.

Grant pulls the desk chair out, turns it around, and sits down facing me. "Do you feel up to talking about what happened today?"

I squirm, and then slowly nod once more. I'm not sure how well my voice will cooperate, but I owe it to the team to try.

"I remember, back before you went on your first investigation, you were telling Jay and I that you could go non-verbal in times of extreme stress. Is that... that's what happened today, right?" Grant gets right to the point, as I knew he would.

I make a sound in the affirmative.

Jason's voice is very kind as he says, "We were, understandably, a bit worried when you... well, when you took off. I'm thankful that Dustin was there to bring you back."

I can feel my eyes filling up with tears, and I try to hold them back. Don't cry, you baby.

"Didn't mean to," I manage to whisper, staring at my lap.

There's a pause, and I can almost feel Jason and Grant exchanging glances. I feel slightly relieved when Kris comes to sit beside me, opposite of Jason. I can't shake the feeling that I'm in trouble.

"Is that also something that happens when you get stressed? You run?" Grant presses gently.

"Not in... in years," I stammer. "Not since..." I almost choke on the lump in my throat, but I swallow it and forge on, "Since before college."

"I see." There's another long silence, and a wave of panic suddenly crashes over me. Oh shoot, they're going to tell me I have to leave TAPS. Not that... please, anything but that.

I draw a shaky breath and try to listen as Jason questions, "What was it that triggered you to run, after Steve and Dave had already confronted those two guys?"

"Steve," I mumble, almost without realizing what I'm saying. Kris squeezes my hand gently. "I... I... he... he looked..." I flail wildly for words. "Thought he was... going to... beat him up."

"Thought Steve was going to beat up the dude that was harassing you?" Grant clarifies.

I nod once more, and lean wearily against Kris's shoulder. She rubs my back comfortingly. "Thought he would... go to jail."

Tango lets out a soft snort, that quickly changes into a cough when Jason gives him a glare.

"And that scared you? Why?"

"Because..." I feel like my voice is leaving again. "Would have been... my fault. My fault..." I'm crying now, shoulders shaking, drawing in deep gulping breaths to try to control myself.

"Summer." Grant leans forward and puts his hands on my knees, willing me to hear wheat he's saying. "Are you listening?" I nod fractionally, and he continues, "None. of. this. is. your. fault." Each word has the emphasis of a sledgehammer.

My only answer is a sob.

"Summer." Grant is inexorable. "This is not in any way, your fault. Those two goons picked a target at random. You did nothing to cause it. And Steve and Dave went to your rescue, and I'm thankful they were there to jump into action. No one got hurt, no one got beat up, no one is going to jail. Do you understand, Summer?" His voice, although firm, is also full of compassion.

"Yes," I croak finally, and Grant sits back in his chair with a brisk nod.

"Good."

Amy passes me a wad of tissues, and I wipe my eyes and try to get a hold of myself.

"Well, now that we have that settled," Jason begins, and I stiffen. "We certainly hope that nothing like this will happen again, and it most likely won't, but I think you understand, Summer, that your safety takes top priority."

I have my eyes clenched shut by now. Please don't make me leave TAPS... please, please, please... don't let me have screwed this up too.

"So here's my suggestion," Jason continues. "You have a cell phone, right, Summer? May I see it?"

I nod in confusion and look around for my purse. Dustin quickly hands it to me, and I pull out my phone and hand it to Jason.

"Start by keeping this on you at all times," Jason tells me firmly. He flips open the phone. "I'm going to program my number into it, so you can reach me at the touch of a button. And I want all of you," he continues, letting his eyes rest on each team member, "to do the same."

He presses several keys, and then hands my phone to Grant, who adds his number. My phone is passed solemnly from person to person, as if it's a part of some type of ritual.

Kris adds her number, and then passes the phone to Amy, who drops it in Dustin's lap, who then hands it to Tango who tosses it to Steve. After adding his number, Steve stands up and tucks the phone into my hand.

"I want you to be able to reach any of us at any time," Jason explains to me. "In case you're alone somewhere, you can call or text one of us to come and get you."

I still feel like I'm breathing underwater, struggling to draw a deep breath, struggling to make sense of it all. "So..." I blurt out finally, and then pause. I'm not sure even now if I have the nerve to ask.

"Yes, Summer?" Jason looks at me curiously, as does the rest of the team.

I don't have the courage to look at either Jason or Grant, but I have to be sure. "So... I don't have to leave TAPS?"

There's a stunned silence.

"Summer!" It's Grant who breaks the silence, and he's laughing. "Of all the crazy... is that what had you so upset? You thought we were going to kick you off the team?"

I writhe in embarrassment, and finally nod. I don't have time to do anything else before Grant grabs me in a hug. He's still laughing, but now I realize that he's not actually laughing at me, just at the absurdity of the situation. I return his hug, feeling relieved.

"There is no way we are kicking you out of TAPS," he tells me, sitting back down. "Your personality and character add so much to this team."

"You've done some excellent debunking," Steve speaks up, and suddenly the whole team is talking over each other.

"You have a lot of empathy," Dustin says with a smile.

"You're not afraid of bats, that's for sure," Tango chuckles.

"You have an amazing sense of humor," Amy puts in.

"You're determined, and strong," Kris tells me, and I flush slightly, feeling like she's got me mixed up with someone else.

"You're very talented, and a quick learner," Jason finishes, ruffling my hair and bringing a grin to my face. "And you have a lot yet to learn, so don't try to get out of it that easily," he warns, shaking a playful finger at me.

I'm almost dizzy with relief, but I snap a quick salute. "Sir, yes, sir!" I exclaim, causing a round of laughter.

"Silly Puck," Tango puts in fondly. "You're kind of crazy, but you're part of our 'Ohana'."

"You guys!" I finally hide my face in Kris's shoulder.

"You're embarrassing her," she chides the rest of the team, but I can hear the smile in her voice.

Jason heaves a sigh and gets to his feet, stretching his arms above his head. "What a weekend this has been," he says with a groan, working the kinks out of his shoulders and neck.

"It's certainly been interesting," Steve agrees.

"I've enjoyed it," Dustin says, smiling at us all. "I'm glad I got to be a part of it. I'll miss investigating with you all when I fly back to Europe to re-join GHI."

"It's been awesome having you," Amy comments, and the rest of us echo her statement.

Grant sums it up. "Well, we did the job we came to do, with a few minor setbacks along the way. I think I can safely say though, that we'll all be relieved to be back in Warwick. I think we all need a long rest to recover from this investigation!"

And no one disagrees with him.

Author's Note: Extra-long chapter for you all today! I'd like to wish all my readers Happy Holidays, and the next chapter will be up on Sunday as usual! We're getting towards the end of this story, but we have one more investigation to go... any guesses on what will happen next? Thanks for reading, and see you next Sunday!