Evangeline Williamson took a deep breath; her college tai chi instructor's directions about centering her energy and maintaining her balance came to mind for some reason. Somehow she didn't think they'd be much use in the fight she was facing. Natalie hadn't looked up; she didn't even seem to realize Evangeline was there. She could have slipped by her into John's office without any confrontation. For that matter, she could have come in the back way and never passed Natalie's desk at all, but the truth was part of her relished these confrontations. She knew how childish it was, but she couldn't deny that she enjoyed the opportunity to remind Natalie once again that she had won. She was the one John had chosen. She cleared her throat loudly.

"Yes?" Natalie asked without looking up.

Evangeline walked closer. "Is John in?"

Natalie answered with a disinterested, "Uh huh."

Evangeline waited for the dirty look or snarky comment about how he was too busy to be bothered, but it didn't come. Natalie seemed to have quite forgotten her presence already. "Can I see him?"

Natalie waved her hand towards John's office. "Be my guest."

Uneasily, Evangeline walked by her. As bad as it was fighting with Natalie over John it was much more disconcerting having Natalie not fighting her. Clearly something had happened to bring about this change.

Even more disturbing, however, was that John was acting the exact same way as Natalie. He barely looked up when she walked in the room and only halfway returned her smile. "Hi!" she said as brightly as she could.

"Hey," he mumbled distractedly.

"You look busy," she said peering at his desk as she sat on one corner of it. She hoped that he would take advantage of her proximity to kiss her hello or show her some sign of affection. She should have known better.

"Yeah," he said. She waited for some further explanation, but he didn't give any.

"So, I came to invite you to lunch, but I guess you probably don't have time," she said, hoping he would tell her she was wrong. Instead he continued studying some papers on his desk. "What about dinner?" she asked after a long wait.

"We'll see," he said glancing sideways at her. "I'll call you."

"Or we could get together later… whatever. Maybe some other time?"

"Mm hm," he said. She had the distinct impression he wasn't listening to her. He hardly realized she was in the room.

"Maybe we could fly to Tahiti. Or Siberia; I hear it's beautiful in the Springtime."

"Uh huh," he said without reacting to her deliberately off the wall suggestion.

"It'll be expensive though," she added, "so I've thought about picking up some shifts at that strip club over on Mercury Drive."

He looked her in the eye for the first time since she walked in the room. "Please tell me you're not doing that stupid thing where you say random stuff just to test whether I'm listening or not."

She smiled grimly. "Why don't you just tell me what's going on with Natalie this time?"

"What does this have to do with Natalie?"

"She's acting just as weird as you are," she grumbled.

He cocked his head, "How so?"

She tried not to show how irritated she was that John seemed more concerned with Natalie's behavior than with upsetting her. "Well, normally when I walk in these days she tries to stare me down; today she wouldn't even make eye contact."

"Well, I heard you two had a fight yesterday," he said.

"Yes," she said, wondering what exactly he'd heard and who he'd heard it from.

He shrugged, "Maybe she wants to avoid another one."

"We've had a lot of fights," she said with a shake of her head, "she's never backed down before. I can't see any reason she would now."

He gave her a look which made her uneasy, and not in a good way. He studied her face carefully as if he was looking for something specific—as if he was trying to confirm something he already knew. She didn't enjoy the sensation she was being interrogated like a suspect. "What?" she asked.

John hesitated; he knew the next part of their conversation would get him into trouble, but he didn't see how he could avoid it. "Did you say something while you two were arguing about Natalie being responsible for Cristian's death?"

Anger flashed suddenly in her eyes, "Is that what she told you?"

His tone stayed even; he didn't rise to join her intensity, "I haven't talked to her about it."

"Then who-?"

"What does it matter?" he said, "Did you say it?"

If Evangeline didn't enjoy being interrogated she certainly didn't enjoy being accused of being in the wrong in a fight with the woman who was trying to push herself between her and her lover. "No!" she said emphatically, "Cristian never even came up we were talking about you. I-"

She stopped herself suddenly. "What?" he asked.

"Natalie said something about me causing problems for you and I told her she caused more problems for you than I ever would. And then I said that if she wasn't careful she'd get you killed too."

"Ah," he said quietly.

"I didn't mean-"

"You can't say things like that to Natalie," he said, raising his voice slightly. "She blames herself enough about Cristian and when you say things like that-"

"That wasn't what I meant-"

"What did you mean?"

"I don't even know!" Evangeline said raising a hand to her forehead, "I didn't mean to upset her. She's the one who started it."

"I know," he said, regaining his calm, "but you just can't say things like that. She hears things like that and she goes into a tailspin."

"So I'm responsible for Natalie going into a tailspin?" she said folding her arms across her chest.

"I don't think you helped," he said.

"So I repeat," she said firmly, "what kind of trouble has she gotten herself into this time?"

"None that I know of," he said flipping absently through some papers, "she says she just had too much to drink last night and she's hung over today."

"But you don't believe her," Evangeline said, familiar with this routine by now.

"I don't know," he said, missing his girlfriend's irritation, "I ran into her and Balsom about four this morning and it just seemed like there was something going on neither of them wanted me to know about. Then Rex came by today and we had this very bizarre discussion-"

"And you're going to obsess over it until you figure out what it is," Evangeline said.

"No," he said, "I'm obsessing over this case." She gave him a stare of disbelief. "It's not like you've never been known to get wrapped up in a case," he added.

"I do get obsessed with my cases," she said, then added softly, "but not lately."

"What?" he asked. Whether he was asking for an explanation or a louder repetition of her last phrase she continued.

"I've been trying to figure out why I got so upset over losing the Vega case," she began.

"Antonio's a friend, you feel like you let him down," John said. "Plus you don't like losing. You don't have a lot of practice at it."

"You're right, I don't, and partly because I do obsess over my cases. But not lately."

John shrugged. "You've had a lot going on. Besides it's probably healthier for you."

"There's only one thing that's really been distracting me," she said looking up at him, "and that's you."

John looked surprised, "I'm sorry. If I'm distracting you, you should let me know. Just tell me if you're busy."

She shook her head, "You don't get it, John. The point is you have the ability to distract me. Not many other people have ever been able to do that. Even when you're not around I think about you, I worry about you, I wonder about our future-"

"I'm flattered, I guess," he said, fumbling for words.

"And it would be fine if I had the same ability to distract you," she said, looking back at the floor.

"Oh I find you plenty distracting," he said moving closer to her.

Not wanting to be swept up in the scent and nearness of him, she backed up. "You find me diverting, but not distracting. When you're focused on a case, you're focused. Even when you're with me, even when we're not at work, it distracts you from me, not the other way around."

"I'm sorry," he said, "that's just how I am, I thought you understood that-"

"I did," she said, "At least I thought I did. Until I noticed something; Natalie has that ability to distract you."

John leaned back in his chair and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "I'm just worried about a friend who I think might have gotten herself into some kind of trouble. I feel a little bit responsible seeing as how I'm a big part of the real reason Cris is dead and when it comes right down to it I'm the reason behind this fight you two keep having, so forgive me if-"

"Have you ever talked to her about any of the things she's said to me?" she interjected suddenly.

He shook his head, "I'm not gonna play this game, Evangeline."

"Neither am I," she said decisively. He gave her a curious look, evidently not understanding her. She continued, "You know, I've seen friends do this, and I always got so angry at them. I never would have dreamed I'd be doing it myself."

"What?"

"Hang onto a guy who you only have half of. Or less. And who you're never really gonna have. Just because you're too afraid to be without him."

His brow furrowed, "I'm not quite following," he said, "is this you breaking up with me?"

She shook her head sadly, "John, we've been broken for a very long time. I just… I'm just tired of trying to glue us back together."

She stood up. "Wait," he said.

She stared at him for a moment. "I have," she said, "and I'm done waiting."

Natalie took a swallow of water and tried not to gag. She'd nursed Roxy through enough hangovers to know that water was the only thing that would really help, but her stomach was not happy about it. She heard someone walk in but didn't look up, pretending to be absorbed in her work. It was only when she heard a soft, uneasy, "Hey," that she looked up to see Michael McBain standing with his hands in his pockets.

"Hey," she said, quickly looking away. "John's in his office if you're looking for him," she added.

"Actually, I came to see you," he said. "We need to talk."

"About what?" she asked, hoping he would take her cue and pretend that nothing had happened between them.

"Last night," he said. Okay, so both McBain brothers were clueless.

"Oh," she said, "about that, how's your shoulder?"

"It's fine," Michael said walking closer and leaning over her desk, "but you know that's not what I meant."

She stood up and walked to the filing cabinet, wanting to keep as much distance between them as she could. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Natalie!" he said, exasperation creeping into his voice.

She looked around to make sure no one was watching them. "Okay," she said, "but not here. Too many people in and out."

"Okay," he said, "you wanna come by my place?"

"I don't think that would be the best idea," she said, "I was thinking something a little less private than that."

"How about the diner?" he said. He forced a grin, "I'll buy you your own fries and you can put as much mustard on them as you want."

She tried not to crack a smile. "Okay"

He moved slightly toward the door, "Is now good?"

"Yeah," she looked around again, "but I don't think we should leave together. You go talk to your brother about something and meet me there in a few minutes."

"What?" she asked when he stood smirking at her rather than moving away.

"I just can't believe how paranoid you are," he said.

She rolled her eyes, grabbed her purse and left.

Walking to the door of his brother's office Michael almost collided with Evangeline who pushed by him without acknowledgement. John looked somewhat flustered and was rubbing the back of his neck, but he straightened when Michael entered and let out a beleaguered sounding, "Hey."

"Hey," Michael said back, "I just saw Evangeline, is everything-?"

"Not in the mood to talk about it," John said with a clear warning in his voice that Michael did not want to press the issue.

"Okay," Michael said, beginning to pace slowly around the room.

"So what are you doing here?" John asked. He sounded irritated and Michael had some pretty good guesses as to what had happened with Evangeline.

Michael realized he really didn't have a reason for being in John's office, at least not one he could name. Somehow he didn't think, "Natalie wanted me to stall in here so no one would see us leaving the station together," would sound good. He massaged his injured shoulder absentmindedly. "Just came by to say hey," he finally managed.

"Well you're the third person to come by 'just to say hey' today," John said, "Believe it or not, I actually do have work to do."

"Okay," Michael said, hopefully he had given Natalie an acceptable head start, "I can go."

"Something wrong with your shoulder?" John asked looking at his brother.

Michael tried to sound blasé, "It's just a little sore. I got hit with a dart last night at Rodi's."

John raised an eyebrow, "Who'd you piss off?"

Michael hesitated, not sure if he should tell the truth or not. He decided that nothing about that incident could hint at what happened later. "Natalie," he said with a sigh which John echoed.

"Yeah, I heard she had a bad night last night," the older McBain said.

"Really?" Michael asked, trying not to let that classification of Natalie's evening make him self-conscious.

"Hey, do me a favor Mikey," John said, "can you lay off Natalie a little. I know you two don't exactly get along all the time, but she's going through a hard time. You don't know what's gonna set her off y'know."

If he hadn't been so horrified by the situation he'd found himself in, Michael could have laughed. Instead he reassured his brother he'd try to be nice to Natalie and left to meet her at the diner.

Natalie walked into the diner and scanned the room quickly. There was a moderate lunch crowd, but no one she really knew. No one she had to worry about seeing her with Michael. She told herself it didn't matter, no one would assume from seeing them eat lunch together that they'd slept together the night before, but some illogical part of her was convinced it showed somehow. She slid into an empty booth to wait for him. Her head was starting to feel better, but she was still tired. She fought the urge to put her head down on the table and nap until he got there.

"Natalie!" a warm voice said above her.

Carlota. She hadn't thought about Carlota. The last person in the world she wanted to find out about her and Michael. No, that wasn't true, she would be more mortified if John found out, but at least he wouldn't lecture her about it. And over all, it would have been worse for Roxy to find out because she would proceed to broadcast it to the rest of Llanview. It was just that Carlota reminded her of Cristian and reminded her that she'd betrayed his memory yet again. After sleeping for months with a man she had mistaken for Cristian, this should only be a minor thing, but somehow it wasn't. Natalie reminded herself to breathe. It wasn't the first time that Carlota had seen her in the diner with Michael; she wouldn't suspect anything. Hopefully.

"How's your mother?" Carlota asked.

"She's okay," Natalie answered, "getting right back into everything y'know—the paper and everything, worrying about us. We keep telling her to take it easy, but she doesn't listen."

Carlota smiled. "Telling us mother's not to worry generally just makes us worry more. So what can I get for you?"

"Just coffee for right now," she said, then standing up added, "actually I can get it myself."

Carlota motioned for her to sit back down. "No, no, siéntate. Stay here. You don't look so good. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Natalie said looking at the table, "I just didn't sleep well last night."

Carlota looked at her skeptically for a moment then disappeared to get the coffee. Natalie took a deep breath and stared that the door willing Michael to show up and get this over with. Instead Antonio Vega walked in. Great; she could run into all of her late-husband's relatives at once and get the guilt over with. Antonio caught her eye and nodded as he walked towards her.

"You alone?" he asked sliding in across from her.

"Yeah," she said, "I was anyway."

"Have you seen Jess?" he asked.

She shook her head, "Not today, why?"

"She was supposed to meet me at Capricorn last night, and she never showed up," he said.

"Are you sure?" Natalie asked, remembering Jessica staggering in earlier that morning.

"Of course I'm sure," Antonio said, "did she say anything to you?"

Natalie didn't want to explain the conversation she'd had with Jessica the night before. Nor did she want to try and come up with an explanation for the way her sister had been dressed or the late hour of her return if she hadn't been with Antonio. She decided diversion was a better strategy. "We talked last night, but it was about me and my drama."

"You okay?" Antonio asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Natalie said, strangely relieved that there seemed to be problems other than her own to focus on at the moment. "Is everything okay with you two?"

Antonio shrugged. "I think so, but then stuff like this happens. Natalie, do you know what's going on with her?"

"No," Natalie said, "she hasn't said anything to you at all?"

"I know she's seeing a therapist, I know she's had blackouts and the doctor's can't find anything wrong. But I think she knows more than she's telling me."

"Antonio," Natalie said, "I don't know what's going on either, but I do know that Jessica loves you."

"I believe that, I do," he said, "but she doesn't trust me. And I just don't see how things are going to work out for us if there's no trust between us."

"Look," she said, staring into the eyes of her former and possibly future brother-in-law, "you two have been through a lot in this past year. It might take a while for you to build that trust back up, but you will. You two love each other, and in the end that's the only thing that matters."

Natalie saw Michael enter the diner. He made eye contact with her but seeing Antonio stayed at the front.

"I try to tell myself that," Antonio sighed, "but-"

He was interrupted as if on cue by his ringing cell phone. He smiled wistfully at the caller ID. "It's her, isn't it?" Natalie asked with a smile.

"Yeah," he said standing up, "excuse me."

"Good luck," she called after him as he ducked outside the diner to take Jessica's call.

When the door was shut behind him, Michael wandered slowly over to Natalie's table. "Hey," he murmured again.

"Sit down," she said irritably. Just then Carlota arrived with the coffee. She looked suspiciously at Michael before taking his order and striding away.

"So…" Michael began.

"So…" Natalie repeated staring at the bottom of her coffee cup.

"About last night…" he tried again, leaning forward.

Natalie took a sip of her coffee, "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry," he said.

"I'm the one who imbedded a dart two inches into your shoulder," Natalie said.

"You were… somewhat intoxicated," Michael pointed out.

"I wasn't the only one," Natalie said with a wry smile.

"I feel like I took advantage of the situation," he said slowly.

"You weren't the only one," Natalie said splashing coffee on the table as she sat her cup down a little too heavily. "We just need to forget it ever happened."

"Well my memory of last night is spotty, but I don't think I'm likely to forget it entirely," he said.

She bit her lip to avoid raising her voice. "Michael it was a mistake; a big one. We were both drunk and frustrated and wishing we were with other people."

"Ah," Michael said sitting up straight suddenly, "so that's it."

"What?" she groaned more than asked.

"You're upset because it was me and not my brother."

"What and you wouldn't have rather been with Marcie last night?" she shot back.

Michael appeared ready to concede this point but they were interrupted by Carlota bringing Michael's food. "Everything okay here?" she asked noting the obvious tension at the table. Natalie nodded. "More coffee?" she asked.

"Please," Natalie replied. She waited till her former mother-in-law was safely out of earshot before continuing. "Look Michael, the bottom line is, if either one of us had thought better about it, it wouldn't have happened."

"But it did. So now what?" Michael said handing Natalie the mustard bottle and motioning to his fries. "Help yourself."

She shook her head, "My stomach can not handle french fries today." Then she answered his question, "We pretend like it didn't. No one needs to know about it."

"No one meaning John?"

"Or Marcie," she reminded him.

He met her eyes over his hamburger, "Last time I heard my brother was having quite a lot of sex with Evangeline Williamson; I don't think he cares who you sleep with."

"Michael he's admitted he doesn't like seeing me with other guys and you think he'd be okay with me sleeping with his brother?" Natalie asked, irritated.

"It might bother him a little."

She laughed, but there was little humor in it. "Yeah, it might. And I'm pretty sure he'd be just as upset with you as with me."

He nodded, "Probably."

"So we don't say anything to anyone. There's no reason anyone would begin to suspect."

"Okay," he said. His expression softened, "For the record, if we both weren't so hung up on other people, I don't think I'd regret this. Not much anyway."

This seemed to make Natalie uncomfortable. "Yeah, well, who's to say? I gotta get back to work. I didn't get much done this morning." She stood up and left before Michael could even say goodbye.

John ran his fingers over the words etched in the smooth black marble. Natalie Balsom Buchana Vega. It was almost a poem. He hadn't understood why she was so insistent on a black headstone, but touching it today he was grateful; he had never realized how black stone absorbed the heat of the day. Rather than the cold, distant sensation he associated with tombstones this one was warm; it seemed alive. Like it still had a heartbeat. Like she still had a heartbeat. Somehow it was comforting to feel that there was some kind of life in this place. Like Natalie wasn't really gone, just separated from him somehow. That's how he'd tried to keep her anyway. It was supposed to keep her safe. He'd been wrong of course. Rex Balsom of all people had been the only one to see it. He'd warned him it wouldn't help, that it would only make the pain worse…

To be continued.

Author's note: I promise not to leave you on that note for long. Next chapter is written but it's on a lot of scraps of paper in a couple different languages and they're less organized than I thought they were. Still... soon.