Author's note: Computer and health problems have kept me from updating. That and a bit of writer's block. As always, feedback appreciated.

It was still dark when he woke up; acutely aware of her warmth nestled against him. He had no right to that warmth, he reminded himself. No right to feel this happy. No right to this woman who clung to him in the dark, her skin glowing amber from the street lights outside. This woman who was very much married to a man who was very much alive and sitting in a prison cell. The woman he'd been lying to for months about his feelings and her husband. Damn it, John, how did you let this happen? You were so good at pushing her away, at telling her, "no." How did she get here? How had he let her in here? How was he going to keep from destroying her yet again?

It had been too late for him for such a long time, maybe it was too late for her. Maybe they were both damned. And if that was the case, what harm could come from lying there, bathing in her warmth, drinking in her scent, wrapping his arms around her and praying he could keep out the hell fires, if only for a while…

And when he awoke again her warmth was gone and he wondered if maybe it had never really been there. Maybe it had been a dream. But he couldn't remember the last dream which hadn't been a nightmare. And then she walked out the bathroom and smiled at him and he couldn't think anymore.

"Good morning," she said walking back towards the bed.

"Yes it is," he said putting his hands behind his head and smiling up at her.

She perched on the edge of the bed, "So the thing is—I actually came here to talk last night."

"You don't think we've done enough talking?" he asked grabbing her arm and pulling her toward him.

"No," she said hovering a few inches above his lips, "I don't."

"Well I don't think we've done enough of this," he pulling her head down to his and kissing her deeply. She relaxed enough to let her torso rest on his chest, kissing him back.

A moment later she pulled away enough to murmur, "Neither do I, but that doesn't get you off the hook."

"Am I hooked?" he asked.

"That's what I want to know," she said.

"What I know is," he said, "What happened last night… I've wanted that for a long time."

"Me too," she said staring at him intently, "but the question is: what happens now?"

Could there be even a glimmer of hope that she was sane enough to be looking for a way out? This was his chance to shoot her down, to push her away, to say all the wrong things. He should be so good at it by now…

But the best he could manage was turning it back to her, "What do you want to happen?"

She took his hand, interweaving their fingers. "I want to be this happy every morning."

"Well, I don't know if I can deliver, but I'd like to give it a shot," he said kissing her hand.

"We can talk about how to do that later," she said, "I have to go now."

"No you don't," he said folding his arms around her, pulling her against him.

"Yes, I do," she said a little more emphatically.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because," she said slowly extricating herself from his grasp, "We both have to be at work in an hour and a half."

"So we have lots of time," he said sitting up so that he was inches from her again.

"I have to go home and shower," she said.

"I have a shower," he said nuzzling her neck.

"And brush my teeth," she continued.

"I'll let you use my toothbrush," he volunteered, nipping at her earlobe.

"And change clothes," she added, weaving a little bit out of his reach, "unless you want to explain to my uncle why I'm wearing the same clothes as yesterday."

"Hmm," he said sitting back, "that is a problem."

"I'd wear yours," she said, "but I suspect someone might notice and ask the same questions."

"Yeah," he said resignedly.

"We still need to talk," she said.

"We'll talk, I promise."

"And you need to stop that or I'll never get out of here," she said pushing away his hand which had been running through her hair.

"That was kind of the idea," he grinned.

"I'll see you soon," she said backing towards the door.

"Yeah, yeah," he said playfully, flopping back on the bed. With one more intimate smile she slipped out the door and shut it softly behind her. She deserved so much better. Their night together had been so amazing, so much more than he'd ever anticipated, except that he'd never anticipated giving in and letting it happen.

And he never anticipated her rushing back into his room a moment later with a look of panic on her face. He sat up quickly in alarm. "Okay, I need a favor," she said in one shallow breath, shutting the door behind her.

"What's wrong?" he asked, already climbing out of bed.

"Roxy's downstairs in the lobby," she panted.

"Um… yeah… she does run the place," he reminded her.

"Look, I just don't… I'd just prefer that she not be the one to announce to all of Llanview that we…"

"Understood," he said nodding his head thoughtfully. Discretion was certainly not Roxy's strong suit.

"I need you to distract her for a minute while I sneak out," she explained.

"Think I can manage that," he said as he rolled out of bed and started getting dressed.

"I'd just kind of like to keep this to ourselves for a little bit," she said sitting down on the bed.

He tried not to frown, tried not to look disappointed or hurt. "Yeah if you don't want anyone to know-"

"John," she cut him off, "I'm not ashamed of anything that's happened between us."

Of course she wasn't—she didn't know any better. She should be. He should be. Ashamed of letting this incredible woman get dragged into the hell he created wherever he went.

"Seriously," she continued, "you have no idea how much I want to go up to the roof and shout it out to the whole world."

"But you'll restrain yourself?" he asked grabbing yesterday's shirt off the floor.

"Two problems," she said, "First of all I don't want to have to answer anyone else's questions until we've answered them all ourselves."

"We need to talk," he reiterated before she could say it again.

"And secondly, everything between us has always been wrapped up in other people, I'd just kind of like for us to have something that's just about us for once."

He nodded as he finished buttoning his shirt. "Does sound like a nice change."

She stood up. "Okay, you go down first; I'll give you about a minute head start and slip by while you're distracting her."

"Should work," he said.

She kissed him as he started out the door, "I'll see you at work."

"Hello, hello!" Natalie called pushing open the door to Jessica's room. Jessica was sitting up and reading, but she closed the book when her sister walked in. She was back to wearing her own clothes rather than the hospital gown and looked so close to back to normal that it was hard for Natalie to believe that she was still suffering from a serious disorder. "How are you doing?" Natalie asked pulling up a chair.

"Better," Jessica said sounding for the first time like she actually meant it.

"Good," she said with a grin, "how'd things go with Dr. Jamison today?"

"All right," she said. "We kind of came up with a plan."

"A plan?"

"Well, for telling everyone for starters and then for proceeding with treatment. He gave me some things to read."

"So you're going to tell everyone?" Natalie asked.

"Yeah," she said softly, "Well, Antonio. He's on his way over here, actually."

"Oh, I can go then," Natalie offered.

"No, no, no, stay," Jessica said catching her hand, "If you're here talking to me it'll keep me from getting nervous."

"Okay," Natalie said settling into the chair. "So you're telling Antonio tonight, but what about Mom?"

"Not yet," Jessica said, "I know she would understand better than anyone, but that's why. It's not going to help me at all to worry over how all this is affecting her."

"Do you think that would be worse than the anxiety of hiding it from her?" Natalie asked skeptically.

"I'm going to tell her," Jessica said, "just not yet."

"Okay," Natalie said, "Well, I think telling Antonio's a good first step. He loves you so much." Natalie suddenly appeared to become very interested in the pattern of Jessica's blanket and a dreamy smile came over her face.

"So what's going on with you?" Jessica asked suspiciously.

"Me?" she asked in surprise, "Nothing. Why?"

"Well you came in in this disgustingly happy mood and now you're staring off into space and smiling. You'll be humming in a minute."

"No," Natalie stammered, "I'm just—you seem better today. Stronger. That just seems good, right?"

Jessica smiled slyly, "It is, but this has nothing to do with me." Natalie was avoiding eye contact. "This wouldn't happen to involve John McBain, would it?" Natalie's cheeks instantly turned redder than her hair, confirming her sister's suspicions. "So?" she prodded, "What happened?"

"You shouldn't be worrying about me," Natalie said finally, patting her sister on the arm, "We're supposed to be concentrating on you."

"Nice excuse," Jessica said, "but there's no reason we can't talk about you too. It makes me feel better to think about something positive. This is positive, isn't it?"

"Oh yeah," Natalie said quickly. "That it is."

"So what has you grinning so inanely?" Jessica asked smiling one of her first genuine smiles in a long time.

"I've spent the last two nights at his place," she finally admitted.

Jessica let out a girlish squeal, "You did?"

"The first night was nothing," her sister explained, "He was trying to cheer me up by showing me a bunch of bad movies and I fell asleep."

"And?" Jessica asked eagerly.

"And while he thought I was asleep, he kissed me."

"How very Prince Charming."

"Yeah," Natalie rolled her eyes and hoped she didn't sound too ridiculous. "So last night I went back to talk to him about it."

"What did he say?" Jessica asked.

Natalie blushed again. "Not much. We didn't exactly do a lot of talking."

Jessica squealed again.

"Could you keep it down?" Natalie said pretending to be more annoyed than she was, "We decided not to tell anyone."

"Well I'm your twin," Jessica said, "I'm not really 'anyone.'" Natalie smiled; it was good to just be sisters again. They'd had so little opportunity to bond like this, gossiping over boys, sharing secrets.

"So?" Jessica asked leaning forward as much as her still sore rib cage would allow.

"So?"

"How was it?"

Natalie sighed. "It was… it was… wow!"

Jessica laughed. "Oh my God! You're completely goofy for this guy!"

"I know," Natalie said sheepishly, "It's a problem."

"Doesn't sound that way."

"But last night," Natalie said, "like I said it was…"

"Wow," Jessica supplied.

"Very. But I was so determined not to rush into sex. You know, because I'd analyzed it all and decided that's what went wrong between John and Evangeline is that's what their relationship was built on. I wasn't going to let that happen."

"Okay first of all," Jessica said seriously, "What went wrong between John and Evangeline was that John was hung up on you the whole time."

"You think so?" Natalie asked uncertainly. She'd told herself that, but never quite trusted that it wasn't wishful thinking.

"Everyone does," Jessica assured her, "and as for the rushing in—Natalie, you two have been dancing around each other for the better part of two years. I don't think you can call this rushing in."

"Really?" Natalie asked, sounding totally unconvinced.

"Trust me," Jessica said. At that moment she looked up at someone walking through the door.

"Am I interrupting?" Antonio asked.

"No," Natalie said standing up, "I was just leaving. I have to go meet someone." She gave Jessica a significant look and added, "Call me if you need anything."

"You too," Jessica said, "And I want continuous updates on your situation."

"What was that about?" Antonio asked watching the door close behind Natalie.

"I think John and Natalie have finally stopped being stupid and gotten their act together."

"Really?" Antonio asked. "I talked to John the day of your accident, but I didn't think I got through anymore than I had before."

"Maybe you did," Jessica said as he sat down beside her.

"And how are you?" he asked taking her hands in his.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," she said slowly, deliberately, "I want you to know exactly what's been going on with me."

John arrived at the diner before Natalie and went to the counter to wait for her. Carlota Vega greeted him coolly, "Can I get you something, Lieutenant?" He'd always had the impression Carlota didn't like him very much. She'd always been kind to him, as she was to everyone, but there was something in her demeanor. He suspected that at least part of her held him responsible for Christian's death. He wondered how much more she'd blame him if she knew that Christian was still alive.

"Just a cup of coffee," he said glancing towards the door. He wasn't sure if Natalie's arrival would ease or raise the tension level. Carlota had made it clear she didn't like the idea of him and Natalie. Or more to the point didn't trust it. Didn't trust him. Smart woman. He didn't blame her; she was just being protective of Natalie, something he certainly understood.

Natalie came in as Carlota was filling his coffee cup. She grinned as she walked over to him. "Hello," she said. As far as he knew Natalie still wanted to keep what had happened between them a secret, but he didn't see that happening. Something in the look on her face, the way she stood so close to him without touching him; it revealed an intimacy he didn't think many people would miss. The warning look he received from Carlota helped him fight the urge to kiss her.

"Should we get a table?" she asked.

"Actually," he said gulping down his coffee a little faster than he should have, "we're not staying."

"We're not?" she asked as he dug in his wallet for a couple dollars to pay for the coffee.

He shook his head, "There's somewhere else we need to go real quick." She gave him a wary look but allowed him to lead her out of the diner.

The firing range was empty. Natalie looked around in confusion. "Please tell me this isn't your idea of a romantic spot," she said.

"This is where I come to think," he said handing her a pair of ear protectors. She put them on as he did the same. Then in a lightening movement he raised his gun and emptied it at the target in front of him. The shots made a tight group of holes on the head of the figure outlined on it.

"Um… if you're trying to impress me there's no need," Natalie said. "I've seen you in action, remember."

"I'm not," he said taking off the ear protectors. "I'm just… I'm trying to explain. I'm not that good with words." For once Natalie did not interrupt him but looked into his eyes intently, trying to guess his meaning. "I come here to think because it helps me clear my head. And because I have to make sure that whatever is going on in my life isn't distracting me too much. I have to stay in control because if I don't someone could get killed."

"Well if there's anything you're good at it's self control," Natalie said.

"No, I'm not," he said. "Not when it comes to you." He could tell by her expression she didn't believe him, which could only mean she didn't understand.

"You get into my head and I can't clear you out. I can't think rationally. It's like… it's like being drunk," he said. "I know what's going on around me and I know I shouldn't be doing what I'm doing, but I can't stop myself. And it scares me because I don't know what's going to happen."

"Does that have to be a bad thing?" she asked, tilting her head to one side.

"I don't know," he said truthfully, staring into her eyes. "I just feel like this might be the stupidest think I've ever done."

"Thanks a lot," she crossing her arms and taking a step back.

"Not… not for me," he explained, "for you. I'm so scared something's going to happen to you and it's going to be my fault. I'm so afraid of hurting you and you don't deserve that-"

"Do I deserve to be happy?" she asked.

"More than a lot of people I know," he said brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

"Well I can't be happy without you," she said. "And right now the thing that would hurt me the most would be for you to walk away. And maybe… maybe if we can figure out everything between us and just stop all the… the craziness maybe that will help keep me from disrupting your focus."

"Maybe," he said closing the distance between them so that it was almost nonexistent.

"I promise to stop you if I see you doing anything stupid," she promised.

"Is this stupid?" he said kissing her.

"Stupid would be not keeping that up," she said kissing him back. Was this stupid or was it just wrong? It didn't matter, just as he said, he couldn't control himself.

The kiss deepened and Natalie's breath quickened. She felt drunk herself, but she wanted more. The grey walls of the firing range blurred out of her vision and she was aware only of the caress of his lips, his tongue swirling in her mouth, his hands sliding up the back of her shirt. And then, suddenly, the sound of someone across the room clearing his throat.

"I think this room is taken," a second voice said. She knew that voice. Damn it, Rex! He had really annoying timing.

Natalie and John parted enough to turn and see Rex standing at the entrance to the room with Bo. Because, of course, being caught by her brother was not enough, the universe had to add her uncle and John's boss into the mix.

"What are you doing here?" Natalie stammered glaring at Rex.

He shrugged, "I'd ask you the same question, but it was kind of obvious."

"I've been giving your brother some anger management lessons," Bo said cryptically.

"We were just leaving," John said.

Bo nodded, giving them both a stern look which did not quite hide his amusement, "Probably a good idea."

John took Natalie by the hand and led her out of the room as both of them tried to avoid eye contact with the interlopers. When they were safely out in the hallway Natalie looked up at John. He looked back at her guiltily, a laugh playing behind his eyes. She giggled. "Out of control," he whispered.

To be continued. Of course.