August 1989

When the doorbell rang Darien was practically invisible behind a cloud of steam as he poured the just finished pasta from the huge pot and into the colander sitting in the stainless steel sink.  Kevin's bellow of "I got it" allowed Darien to not have to rush and possibly burn himself through carelessness. Once the pasta was sufficiently drained he added a dash of olive oil and gave it a quick toss before transferring it to the awaiting serving bowl.

"How's the sauce?"  Darien asked with a grin as he caught Celia sneaking a sample with a chunk of the Italian bread she'd baked.

"Wonderful, my dear.  You have mastered the art of opening a jar and heating it to perfection." Celia smiled, her eyes twinkling in merriment.

"I'll have you know it took hours to learn that skill." Darien laughed going along with the joke even though both knew he'd made the sauce from scratch. He was glad she was able to smile, especially now.

Kevin's voice intruded then, "What are you doing here?"

Darien and Celia glanced at each other and together headed out to the front of the house to investigate the cause of Kevin's dismay.  Kevin, however, still stood at the front door, blocking their view of whomever he had spoken to.

"Gee, Kevin, I don't know.  Maybe I'm here for Peter's funeral?" the unseen person sneered and Darien recognized the voice instantly.

Bounding forward Darien nudged Kevin aside, much to his irritation. "'Chele, what're you doing here?"

'Chele rolled her eyes.

"I called her."  Celia said and 'Chele slipped between the two brothers to go to the older woman and embrace her.

"Are you all right?"  'Chele asked looking over Celia with a sharp eye.

"I'm fine, dear.  Though I hate for you to risk your new job." Celia remained serenely composed.

'Chele shook her head.  "They were very accommodating."

"They don't want to risk losing you."  Darien commented, knowing exactly how true it was.  Just before Michele graduated, the government had doubled their offer making her seriously reconsider the position with the DOD.  Gentech was unable to go any higher, but Hollow Brook dug deeper into their pockets and sweetened their offer.  Since 'Chele was already in favor of them, the additional pay and concessions had swayed her enough to tell the government 'no' and Hollow Brook 'yes.'

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Darien." 'Chele turned to look at the two brothers, one hand still on Celia's shoulder.

"Anytime, babe." Darien replied with a wink, and then turned to shut the front door.

"Darien, don't you think it's inappropriate to call an engaged woman 'babe'?" Kevin admonished as he stepped away from the door and towards the two women.

Almost as one both Darien and 'Chele said, "Huh?"

"You're engaged to Jess Stevenson, or are you married now? It was all over campus just prior to graduation."  Kevin explained as if the two were small children that needed special help.

"Engaged." 'Chele repeated, her voice tight.  "Excuse me, please." She stepped around Celia headed for the back of the house, most likely the kitchen.

"Kevin," Celia shook her head and clicked her tongue at him, her look conveying her obvious disappointment. "How could you?"  With a quick step she hurried after Michele, leaving the brothers alone.

Kevin turned to Darien in confusion. "What did I do?"

"Bro, for a genius you are incredibly stupid." Darien said with a growl of irritation.  "She hasn't seen Jess since March and hopes to never see him again."  Darien ran a hand through his hair, which he'd allowed to grow out since school had ended for the summer. It had quickly achieved chin length.  Taking pity on his brother, who was obviously at a complete loss as to what was going on, Darien sighed and asked, "So which version did you hear?"

Kevin actually looked startled for a second, but quickly composed himself.  "Uh, that Jess had proposed and she'd accepted."  He paused, thinking. "Oh, and that she was pregnant."

Darien groaned, remembering 'Chele telling him about that rumor hitting campus in early May, just after Jess had called several times in a supposed attempt to ascertain whether or not she was indeed pregnant.  They figured Jess had been watching her while avoiding the cops still looking for him and had seen her make trips to several local doctors. She had surmised that in Jess' warped mind that if she was indeed pregnant she would then have to marry him.

"Kev, does she look pregnant to you?" Darien forced himself to remain calm.

"Well, no, but..."

"No buts, Kev.  Yes, the SOB proposed, and when 'Chele told him no he raped her."  Darien's voice was icy. "I'm guessing you failed to hear those rumors or notice her walking around campus for two weeks with half her face purple."

Kevin's glasses came off and he began to clean them nervously with the end of his tie.  "Shit, I didn't know.  Michele and I didn't see much of each other that last semester."  Kevin actually sounded as shocked as he looked, his fair complexion paling as he realized Darien was telling the truth about the situation.

Turning away from Darien, Kevin slid his glasses back in place and followed after 'Chele and Celia, but Darien stopped him before he'd gone three steps with a hand planted firmly on Kevin's shoulder.

"Whoa, where d'you think you're going?"

"To apologize, of course."  Kevin made it plain that it should have been obvious.

"No you're not.  Leave her alone for a while."  Darien insisted.  "Do it later."

At first Kevin looked like he was going to argue, but something in Darien's eyes must have made Kevin change his mind.  "Sure.  How... how is she doing?"

"Better now that she's moved into her new house in Escondido," Darien answered, relieved that Kevin chose not to fight over an apology that would do more harm than good right at this moment.  "Getting away from Pasadena made quite a difference."

He didn't mention that it had taken four phone number changes and some very high tech gear from her brothers Michael and Patrick to set up a system that automatically logged and traced every call even if she didn't answer.  The police had just missed catching Jess twice before he'd gotten the hint and taken off for the hills, leaving her alone... for now.  It had been two months since she'd last heard from Jess, but even she didn't think it was the last and she'd remained constantly on alert.  She'd even gone back to the dojo and earned her black belt in karate, though it would probably do little good if Jess suddenly reappeared.

Michele was just beginning to see the light at the end of a very long, dark tunnel, but she was still fragile emotionally.  The entire ordeal had changed her, in some ways subtle, in some blatantly obvious, and Darien had yet to decide if those changes were for the better or not.  Only time would tell, he supposed.  His few attempts at suggesting she see a psychologist were met with firm refusals. Her argument of not needing someone to tell her why she was reacting the way she was when she already knew, was hard to refute, so Darien had just fumbled along and done the best he could to aid in her recovery.

"And how would you know this?"  Kevin asked in some curiosity, which failed to hide the disdain in his voice.

"'Cause I've spent every weekend with her since it happened."  Darien sighed not wanting to remember the hell some of those weekends had been.  "Look, I know you two don't always see eye-to-eye..."

Kevin chuckled, "Much like us, Darien. You two have always had a connection I've never understood.  I am her colleague, her friend and even..." He paused, shaking his head as if unsure how exactly to put what he wanted to say into words.  "I'm not going to be around as much, Darien.  My job..."

Darien stiffened, not the least bit surprised by Kevin's comment.  Darien could think of a baker's dozen of times in the last few months Kevin had canceled plans in the name of his work.  "Got it, Kev.  Your all important government job comes first."  Darien stepped away, following after 'Chele and Celia whom he could hear talking in the kitchen.

"Darien, I'm here now aren't I?"  Kevin asked in complete exasperation.

"Yeah, this time," Darien responded as he continued to walk away.

*     *     *

The hushed murmur of voices by the black crows who circled about the confines of the house like vultures over carrion only reaffirmed Darien's opinion of the ritualistic processes of death.  Put simply: funerals sucked.

He eeled his way through the crowd, nodding to people he knew and accepting the condolences of others until he was able to escape the overcrowded main rooms of the house for the relative island of calm that was the kitchen.  He discovered 'Chele, whom he'd lost sight of over an hour ago due to the fact the vast majority of the people towered over her tiny form. She was bent over the open oven, examining the contents of one of the casserole dishes that had been set inside to warm.  The skirt of her black dress had ridden up revealing not only that she was wearing nylons that came to only mid-thigh, but also the silky black garters holding them in place.  He felt a sudden lust wash over him and the urge to find out if garters were all she had on under the snug-fitting dress.

Pushing those, to him, very inappropriate thoughts aside he cleared his throat and asked, "Need a hand?"

Replacing the lid on the casserole, she slid the shelf back into the oven and closed the door.  Stripping off the hot mitts she tossed them onto an empty spot on the counter.  "What I need are my meds, but I don't wanna run the gauntlet to get them." she replied as her hands came up to rub her temples.

Going to her, he brushed a curl of hair that had escaped the confinement of the fancy hairstyle it had been forced into that morning and took over gently massaging her temples.  "Bad?" He kept his voice soft, knowing that her hearing often became hypersensitive when the headaches flared up.

"It will be," she grumbled.

"Come on."  Urging her into movement her directed her out the back door and onto the shade covered porch.

"Darien, I can't.  Celia..."

"Has 30 other people to console her.  I think she can spare you for a little while."  He got her as far as the steps that led down to the lawn before she stopped and stubbornly refused to move.  "'Sides you know what Celia would do if she knew you had a migraine."

'Chele sighed.  "She'd fuss and worry and pack me off to bed heedless of her own pain."

"Exactly.  Now, do you want the pills or the... shot."  Darien knew the migraines had gotten progressively worse since March and had only complicated her emotional recovery from the rape.

"Umm, the pills.  I think I can head the worst of this one off at the pass."  'Chele answered after taking a moment to assess her condition.

"You relax, I'll get them."  He paused at the door and looked back at her.  "You look beautiful."

'Chele gave him a lopsided grin.  "Thanks, but I am far too much the tom-boy to ever be comfortable in a dress."  Then she flinched, her headache making its presence known and reminding her who was in control at the moment.

"Sit. I'll be right back."  Once she'd sunk down onto the top step to lean back against the post, a groan escaping from her, Darien went inside. He quickly understood why she had referred to it as a gauntlet.  If the press of bodies was nearly overwhelming to him, it would have been claustrophobic for her.  No wonder she'd fled for the relative sanctuary of the kitchen.  About every third person just had to stop and talk to him for a couple of minutes until he was completely frustrated and ready to tear his hair out.  When Mrs. Gallagher started talking about how wonderful Peter had looked at the viewing the evening before, Darien excused himself, citing the need to use the "little boys room."  He bolted for the staircase and didn't slow down until in 'Chele's room with the door shut firmly behind him.

Instead of the attached bathroom he headed for the smaller of the two bureaus in the room, knowing she preferred to keep her medications out of the usual places, as some were technically less than legal.  No doctor could prescribe her the pills that helped control the headaches; it had taken her and Peter months of trial and error before coming up with the original version and he'd helped her modify it over the years until the medications had reached their current forms.  Until her recent move she had kept herself supplied by creating them in her basement lab, but she was not yet completely set up in her new home and was currently relying on an oversupply to get her through until she was up and running again.

Darien sorted through the various bottles he found, many of which were nothing more than common over the counter vitamin and herbal supplements until he found the opaque bottle with nothing but Greek letters on the plain label.  Next to it sat the black case he knew contained the syringes and vials with even more potent medication.  He'd once asked her what it was the stuff did and she'd tried to explain, but he'd been lost within seconds and had been forced to resort to the old Oreo routine to get her to stop.  About all he'd understood was that it reduced neurotransmitter function and killed pain with a fancy version of codeine, beyond that he was out of his depth.

Putting the bottle into his pants pocket he slid the drawer shut and left the room.  At the top of the stairs he realized he wanted no part of having make his way through that crowd again and detoured back to the former playroom.  Over the years it had become a sitting room with a TV, radio, several bookcases and comfortable chairs to relax in.  He and 'Chele had wasted many an evening up in this room and on the porch roof just outside the window.  The window that he then he went to and slid open. 

He took off his suit jacket and tie, then rolled up the sleeves on the crisp white oxford shirt he wore he and climbed out the window, making his way across the gently sloped roof.  He quickly came to the realization that the smooth soles of the scuffed dress shoes he wore were not recommended footwear for climbing roofs.  Skidding his way over to the tree that had served him well over the years when he felt the need to escape the confines of this house and his family or to just cause some trouble in this sleepy mountain town, he grasped the conveniently placed branch like he'd done a thousand times before. The branch had done little more than grow thicker over the years, his own height pacing the upward growth of the tree. He swung out to place his feet on another one that hung just below the level of the roof.

"Darien, what the hell are you doing?"

Glancing down he could see 'Chele leaning out over the porch railing and looking up at him. The noise from his clamber had obviously alerted her to his location.  "Avoiding yet another round of inane chattering with people I barely know."  Shifting, he lowered himself down to sit on the railing and dug the pill bottle out of his pocket. He couldn't help but notice the way her hands shook as she took it from him as well as her struggle to open it.

"Here, let me."  Taking the bottle from her, he easily unscrewed the top. Holding her hand steady he shook two of the surprisingly small pills onto her palm.

She quickly dry swallowed them with a grimace.  "Thanks."

Closing the bottle he stuffed it back into his pocket then reached out to caress her cheek.  "You waited too long again."

'Chele chuckled softly.  "Don't I always?"

"But you shouldn't." he admonished gently.  "I swear, some days you need a caretaker."

"You want the job?" she asked facetiously.

"Hmm, how about for the day?"  Darien suggested in all seriousness.  He knew he was not dealing with things too well at the moment, but he could see she was doing even worse.

"Sounds good to me," she agreed with a tired sigh.  Kicking off her shoes, her height dropped by several inches and he watched her wiggle her toes on the smooth wood of the porch.

Hearing voices in the kitchen he turned sideways on the railing and then dropped the few feet to the lawn below.  Setting a finger to his lips to keep her silent he waved for her to join him.

With a grin she hopped over the rail to gracefully drop beside him, her knees flexing to absorb the impact and reminding him that no matter how dainty and delicate she might look that there was most definitely a core of iron beneath the silk.  Taking her hand he led her back to the stand of trees in the far corner of the yard where the hammock still hung under the canopy of leaves, a tiny haven of peace and tranquility.  Just in time, it turned out, as several people walked out onto the porch carrying plates and cups, the obligatory feasting in honor of the dead having begun.

'Chele reached up and freed her hair from its confinement, after months of letting it grow unchecked the curls now fell to her mid-back like a glorious sheet of flame.  "Too many memories?" she suddenly asked, startling him.

Shoving his hands in his pockets to hide his discomfort he continued watching the small crowd gathering on the porch and beginning to spill out onto the yard.  "What makes you say that?"

She was behind him then, her arms curving about his waist and her forehead pressing against his back. "'Cause I know you.  You're feeling lost and hurt and wondering what you could have done better over the years."

Darien sagged in her hold, the two of them supporting each other for the moment.  "I thought I'd have more time.  Graduate, get a job, make him proud of who I am finally, instead of at a loss for what to do with me."

"Ah, D, he was proud, more than you realize."  'Chele told him.

Darien just shook his head. "See, even you knew him better than me." There was more than a hint of jealousy in his tone.

"No, just a different perspective is all.  Mainly because I wasn't family -- not really, anyway.  You and Kevin were both sons to him. It just took him longer to find common ground with you."

Darien didn't say anything for several minutes, a frown creasing his features, as he thought about what she had said.

"I'm gonna miss him, Dare." Her hold on him tightened and Darien grunted in reaction, as her grip was more than strong enough to cause him some discomfort. "After my parents died Pete and Celia stepped in and gave me someone to turn to."

"They were your legal guardians for a while right?"  Darien vaguely recalled something like that being set up in the months following her parents' deaths.

"Yes, but they also became my friends and Peter my... colleague.  I could go to him about things I could trust no one else with."  'Chele's hold didn't loosen in the least.  "I don't know if I'd've been able to get through the last few years without his help."

Darien sighed softly knowing it was true.  Only Peter, and possibly Doc Anthony, knew the details about what was wrong with 'Chele, at least as far as anyone could know.  "Why've you never told me everything about...about what's wrong with you?  Is it just that you think I'm too stupid to understand?"

"No." she said at a hoarse whisper.  "It's too dangerous."

'Dangerous?" Darien thought in surprise.  'What could be dangerous about...'  "Chele?"

"No, dear heart, I won't tell you.  Not now.  Not when I'm already afraid of losing you." Her voice was filled with fear, a sound he'd come to recognize over the last few months.  The hate he felt for the person who'd put it there, made fear a part of her every day, had only deepened, banked for a hoped for vengeance one day in the future.

His hands came out of his pockets to rest atop hers.  "Ah hell, babe, I'm not going anywhere."

She shuddered.  "My head knows that, but my heart... I just need to hold on for a while, okay?"

"Sure, but how 'bout we move someplace more comfortable."  He turned his head slightly and lowered his voice.  "I'd kinda like to hold on for a while too."

"Shit.  I am a complete idiot," she grumbled at herself as she released him and stepped back.

Darien faced her with a hint of a grin on his lips.  "Wow, never expected to hear that from you."  She was correct with her sudden realization that he was having just as difficult a time with this as she was.  With a hand on her shoulder he encouraged her over to the hammock and together they sprawled upon it.  Darien lay on his back one arm flung over his head and the other wrapped about her, while she curled on her side with her head resting on his chest.

"I don't remember my mom's funeral, don't think they let me and Kev go considering we were in the care of Social Services at the time.  It took a while for them to locate Peter and make arrangements for them to come and get us."

He pulled her closer needing the contact for the moment.

"They tried to keep me from Kelly's funeral, but I snuck out and went anyway.  All those people saying what a horrible tragedy it was when they all knew the truth, knew her bastard of a father had driven her to it.  Eleven years old and so battered physically and emotionally that she saw death as her only way out."  Darien stopped, practically choking on his words, the pain and anger coming back as if it had just happened yesterday.

"Darien, I'm so sorry.  And me dumping all my crap on you the last few months hasn't helped any. "  'Chele's tone was truly apologetic, honestly upset about needing him so much recently with so little return on her part.

"Don't be, 'cause I met you just a few months later and ... and I think you saved me from a really dark place I was in."  It became obvious by her silence that she was unsure how to respond to his quietly spoken confession.  Eventually, though, she found her tongue.

"Looks like we're even on that score."  Her words were soft as her fingers began to nervously tap out a rhythm on his sternum.

They lay there in the dappled sunshine and drowsy heat of the afternoon, just watching the ebb and flow of people about the yard and quietly thankful that no one seemed inclined to intrude on them.  It was Darien catching sight of Kevin, who had miraculously shed his jacket and was talking to Doc Anthony, which gave him the next topic.

"Hey, 'Chele, did you notice the guy Kev and Doc Anthony were talking to at the cemetery?"  

Her hand paused its random motion atop his hip. "The, ummm, rather large gentleman in the dark suit and glasses?"

Darien chuckled.  "Yeah, that'd be the one.  You know who he is?"

'Chele shifted, propping her head up with her arm to better look over the yard, and with eerie timing Kevin turned his head and gave Darien a nod of acknowledgement, almost as if he knew why Darien and Michele had wandered off.

"I'm sure I've seen him before with both Pete and Curtis, but I have no idea who he is.  I think he's from back when Pete worked for the DOI."  'Chele answered.  "Looks like Kev got an introduction, you could always ask him."

"Yep, I could."  Darien wanted to say more, but found himself unable to do anything more than groan as 'Chele lowered her face to nuzzle the side of his neck.  For the moment he was unable to stop her, wanting the contact as badly as she appeared to.  He even understood the reaction, the primitive need to reaffirm one's connection to life in the most basic way possible.

Rolling onto his side, which started the hammock swinging, he buried a hand in her hair and found her lips with his own. For long minutes he lost himself in the sensations, once again stunned at how easily she could distract him, could heal the ache deep with in his heart with a simple touch, could show him how much she needed him without a single word exchanged.

When it became obvious they were getting in far too deep for their current location, Darien pulled away.  "Sweet thing, even if I thought you were ready for this, it's still not the right place.  I much prefer having sex without an audience."

Michele stifled a laugh, some of the sexual tension easing between them, but he still caught that shiver of fear that ran through her, proving that she was still not ready to take that final leap of faith and trust.  "Damn it.  You must be sick of this by now.  I just... I want to, ya know, so bad it drives me crazy some nights, but I can't.  I hit this wall and I..."

"Stop it, Michele.  Yeah, you've been running hot and cold, but I understand.  Come on, if I was upset I'd tell ya, right?"  Darien did his best to reassure her.  Given that she'd been quite effectively driving him nuts for years, he was perfectly capable of dealing with the situation and waiting until she was ready.  "'Sides, I kinda like the bouts of spontaneous tongue wrestling."

"I've noticed."  She kissed him lightly, one hand surreptitiously running over the evidence of his response and making him growl softly.  "And I can pretty much guarantee you'll be the second to know when I am ready."

Unable to fight the urge he set a hand over hers and thrust slowly against her palm.  He was oddly pleased when her eyes slid shut and she moaned quietly.  "The second?  You seeing someone I don't know about?"  It was supposed to be humorous, but 'Chele had curved her hand about him to take control of the motion, and even through the intervening layers of clothing it was more than enough to make his tone anything but humorous.

"Nope, just you.  I just figured I'd be the first to know." she laughed, which helped to draw him away from that edge he was swiftly approaching regardless of the fact her hand had yet to stop its slow movements.

"Girl, do you know you drive me crazy?

"Uh, huh." she acknowledged with a smile.  "You have the same effect on me in case you hadn't noticed."

With a mental groan he moved her hand away from its target and twined their fingers together. "A smile from you and I'm horny."

"The day I don't make you horny is the day you've fallen in love with someone else." she stated with an unreadable look in her eyes.

Darien laughed it off.  "What?  You mean horniness is not love?  I'm shocked."  She freed her hand and wagged a finger threateningly at him.  He captured it and pulled it down to his lips, kissing her fingers one at a time.  "What about you?  Ever been in love?"

She lowered her eyes, looking anywhere but at Darien as she answered, "For a very long time."

Darien was rather shocked to learn she was in love with someone and he didn't know about it, that she hadn't told him.  He was even more surprised to find himself feeling hurt and jealous, but he shoved it away.  They were friends, friends with benefits, but friends first and foremost.   She was under no obligation to inform him of every aspect of her life and relationships.  "He must be one lucky guy."

'Chele's eyes locked onto his at the poorly hidden pain in his comment.  "He is, dear one, he most definitely is."