The Price of Peace

(A sequel to All That Sparkles)

By aubreysmom

Rating: K+ (PG), simply because it's a rather intense story

Disclaimer: I feel I need to be very clear about where my information came from and what I have created for the purposes of this story.

The background on the Ebola hemorrhagic fevers is straight from the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta – their Website. Thanks to Richard Preston (The Hot Zone, Anchor Books, New York et al, 1994) and Robin Cook (Outbreak, G.P. Putnam's Sons 1987) for helping, too.

At this point, as far as I know, no one has figured out yet exactly what species of animal it starts in, so there's no way to trace it from that source. As such, there has been little progress in finding much information about it, let alone develop a treatment. The "treatment" referred to in the story is my own creation, and even then, you'll notice I don't go into detail. I'm not a scientist – and this virus, while rare, is NASTY, if all the readings can do it justice. I have no knowledge of any research currently going on to develop an antigen for Ebola, although it would surprise me greatly if there weren't a legitimate lab SOMEWHERE working on it.

Also, Conference 5 is totally my creation – I don't know of any such place in existence. The characters, with the exceptions of Elizabeth and David Dillingham, and Paul Griese, are the property of Paxson and Pebblehut Productions (and thank you for creating such wonderful characters to work with!)

Acknowledgements: My thanks to RRP, my wonderful beta-reader, for keeping me honest and inspired.

Chapter 1: Snowed In

" I am so glad I don't have to work tonight." Myles Leland III looked out at the heavy snow blowing in the dark Sunday night. "Chasing down perps in a blizzard is not fun."

Elizabeth Dillingham poured two cups of coffee, then walked over to join Myles at the window. "I'd have thought," she said as she handed a cup to him, "all the bad guys would hole up on nights like this."

"Not always," he replied, letting the curtain fall back and putting his arm around her. "Believe me, we've spent enough nights freezing our posteriors off, waiting to nail someone, for me to be overjoyed that tonight isn't one of them."

He dropped a quick kiss into her dark hair. "Thank you for making dinner. You're spoiling me, you know. There's about five take-out places that have gone out of business in the three months that we've been dating."

Elizabeth laughed. "Take-out? You can cook."

"Yes, but I don't usually have time to. When I get home at 8 or later, it's a lot easier to just bring something home or heat up something out of the freezer. And you've greatly improved the quality of the latter, believe me."

She set down her coffee cup on the windowsill and put both arms around his neck. "Oh, I don't mind keeping your freezer filled along with mine. It means I have room for more variety than I'm used to. Lasagna can look just as depressing in the freezer the tenth time around as it does in the fridge."

"Hey, you can bring your lasagna over here anytime you get too depressed. It's better than at Antonio's."

She pulled away and looked up at him in mock-outrage. "So that's why you keep seeing me," she teased. She took both cups, turned her back on him, and headed back to the kitchen. "You're not dating me, you're dating my lasagna!"

Myles was right behind her and, as soon as the cups were safely on the counter, he swung her around into a full embrace and a long kiss that left them both a little breathless. When they parted, he stroked her cheek.

"I'm dating you," he said softly, "because you were gracious enough to still want to see me after that disastrous ending to our first date. I still can't figure that out, but I'm very glad it's so. Besides," he added with a grin, "you know me far too well to be let out of my sight for very long. I've worked very hard to cement my arrogant, cynical, hard-as-nails image in everyone else's eyes, and I can't have you messing that up, now can I?"

"Oh, of course not." She kissed him again, then sighed. "I'd love to stay, but if I wait much longer, even my 4-wheel-drive isn't going to be able to get through this mess."

His eyes mirrored his concern. "Are you sure? I'd certainly feel better if you weren't driving tonight. The guest room does have a lock, you know."

Elizabeth smiled. "Myles, I'm not worried about anything like that. I trust you. I need to get home, though. I have some work to finish, and Grandfather's making an entrance at 9 a.m. sharp. And no snowstorm ever got in the way of David Dillingham, I can tell you that. If I'm not home, from just two miles away, I'll never hear the end of it."

Myles chuckled. "I can imagine that, having met him last weekend. Thank you for inviting me, by the way."

"Inviting you was a godsend for me. Usually I go hole up in the library for the duration, before Mom starts in on 'why are you still single' or Grandfather asks when I'm going to 'put that analytical mind to some real work.' To put it bluntly, I enjoy family gatherings about as much as you enjoy having to go ask Randy Pitts for something."

"Oh, my. Hey, wait—I thought your grandfather was really proud of you. You told me he came to your graduation from Princeton, risking all Harvard predecessors coming back to haunt him."

Elizabeth's green eyes darkened, and she pulled away from Myles, turning away again. "Oh, he was proud I graduated top of my class, but he was rather disappointed that I chose to go into private counseling instead of something like…I don't know. Profiling for the FBI, I guess. Something he'd consider sufficiently world-altering to be worthy of the Dillingham legacy. He can't understand that I'd much rather help one person than a whole nation." She turned around to face him. "25 years with the CDC, and he thinks he's God."

"I got that much." Myles reached for her hand, and she allowed him to pull her back into an embrace. His voice softened again. "Elizabeth, I know from personal experience that what you do does alter the world, in ripples from every patient you help. I've only been in counseling once in my life, but it probably saved my career…"

"…which is your passion," she added.

He nodded. "…and made a tremendous difference in how I see myself and my job, and why I do what I do. And you're the only person I've ever told that to, so…"

She smiled up at him, and the light came back into her eyes. "Your secrets are safe with me. Always. Thanks for letting me vent, Myles. You're good for me, you know that?"

He held her tight. "Not half as good as you are for me. As for the venting—anytime. What's this visit from 'God' all about, anyway – did he say?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "Not a word. I know he had to come into D.C. for a conference of some sort, but he's always really quiet about what he's working on." She gave him one more lingering kiss, then sighed. "Now, I'd best say 'good night' and go brave the Arctic out there."

"I'll help you clean off the car." He got their coats.

It took a few minutes, but pushing the heavy snow kept them warm. Myles opened the door for Elizabeth. "You be careful."

She smiled again. "I will."

"Call me when you get home? Otherwise, I'm likely to mobilize the whole team."

"They'd need skis to get through," she quipped. Then she leaned out and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll call you as soon as I get in the door, love. I promise."

Myles watched her work the car out into the street, then, shivering, headed back into the house. An hour later, the phone rang.

"I'm home – you can sleep now."

"Good night, Elizabeth."

"Sweet dreams, Myles."