I've never been the kind of girl who finds the tied-to-the-railroad-tracks Dudley Do-Right fantasy appealing, so unfortunately his look of concern was far more irritating than endearing. He just gaped. I squinted at him, still in a Unisom haze, and repeated myself. "I said, what are you doing here? It's... I don't know what time it is, but it's really late." I pulled the sleeves of my pajama top over the palms of my hands and stared him down. "No, I haven't been attacked by some crazy arm-stabber, and it's not anything like it looks. So unless it's a matter of life and death, would you mind restricting your visits to normal business hours?"

I could see the exact moment when the little wheel in his brain started running again. "I thought it *was* a matter of life and death, obviously, or I wouldn't have pounded and yelled and unlocked the door without a key."

"Whose life? Whose death?"

"I called Jack a couple of hours ago. He said he'd get back to me in a few minutes and I never heard from him again."

"That's probably because he and Annie are out on a date."

"A date?"

As if he were a young child, or an imbecile, or partially deaf: "Yes. A date."

"So that explains..."

"Where she was, too."

"And then your door was locked, and they were gone, and it was... well, you can't blame me, can you? All the weird shit that goes on around here. For all I knew, you were all in here hanging from the ceiling fan."

"Okay, so, now that it's been established that Jack and Annie haven't been hung from anything tonight, at least not in this house, and certainly not in this room, do you think you could come back later?"

Instead of simply smiling goofily in his usual manner and maybe apologizing for the door thing and the panic and leaving, like I'd hoped, he sat down on the bed instead. And it's gonna be another long one tonight...

"Tell me what it is if it isn't what it looks like."

"It's just a thing, a thing I do. I don't expect you to understand, but I do expect a little discretion on your part after I assure you that it isn't driven by any real desire to harm myself and certainly not the desire to harm other people."

"So what is it driven by?"

"I don't think I have to explain myself to you, Carey." I regarded him sourly. In hindsight, perhaps I should have treated him more kindly. He was concerned, and concern can be sweet.

"No, you don't have to." But he didn't make a move to leave, like I had expected. By this time maybe I should have started getting accustomed to the idea that what I expected of him would almost always be a mistaken impression. He just sat there, staring at me, and it created an uncomfortable tension. I looked all around the room, at the fan, the desk, the door, the closet. Anything to keep from meeting that stare.

"Nothing ever turned out like I planned," I finally said. "Even before I started making real plans, life had no intention of treating me kindly. When I was about Fi's age, it was a way to calm myself down whenever events conspired to build up my inner rage, or whatever. Ignored at home, deserted by friends, mistreated, underestimated. It was personal and harmless then and it's personal and harmless now."

"I don't think it's harmless."

"Then you clearly don't understand."

"No, I don't. I think it is harmful on a psychological level, and you should stop, because there are a lot of people around here who care about you and would be very upset if they found out about this, and I'm one of them. I think that whyever it is that you're doing it now, you should get that out of your life."

"It's not things in my life that make it so attractive these days. It's the things that have left my life and won't be coming back, or won't be coming back in the same way. But I... you know, I never would have burdened you with this. This is my own thing to carry around, not anyone else's, and I don't enjoy talking about it. So please keep this between you and me, and maybe I will try to get back on the straight and narrow soon," I promised insincerely, flashing a joyless smile. "And it is late, so do you think now that we've discussed this and you know everything's okay with Jack..."

"Yeah, I'll pack it in. I'm sorry about waking you up." And there it was, that trademark smile I'd expected, only it was a little wearier, as much of an empty gesture as my own. He headed for the door and closed it quietly behind him.

"Finally." I flopped back onto the bed and made an unpleasant face when I remembered the knife was still lying there, somewhere underneath me now. I pulled myself up again and looked around in the sheets until I found it. I was headed for the bathroom to rinse it off when the door swung open again. "Hey, I'm sorry, I just wanted to let you know, in case you were concerned, that Jack and Annie are outside in the car making out, I saw them as I was..."

I started and froze in position for a second, annoyed by the second intrusion, although the news was a bit comforting. He dove at me, knocking the knife across the floor, which is where we also landed. Seriously pissed off now, I fought and slapped at him. He loosened his grip on the offending wrist and gave me a look so heartbreaking I could have cried. It was the look of a wounded puppy who doesn't understand why its adored master persists in whacking it on the nose with a newspaper.

For the second time in one evening, my question was: "What the fuck are you doing?"

"What the fuck are you doing? I thought I'd actually gotten it through to you that you shouldn't do that because everyone here loves you and--"

"And I thought I might have gotten it through to you that it's not about being 'loved' and that's beside the point anyway because I wasn't doing anything, which isn't your business to begin with--"

"How can it be beside the point? How can it be anything but the point?" The argument of a child, really; an innocent. Yet I ceased the struggle and softened my own expression. And despite the warning alarms in my head increasing their own volume exponentially, I decided not to defend the temple when the intimacy of the moment overcame him and he kissed me.

Fast slow, fast fast slow.