It was long after midnight when Roger finally relented. Walking outside in search of Gregory together made the knot in Olivia's stomach subside only slightly. Her husband's cold fury was frightening to be sure, but when his anger overwhelmed his control he was truly demonic.

Still crackling in the darkness, the stacks of paper and scraps of wood of his bonfire had faded mostly to embers. As they walked, her eyes adjusted slowly. Gregory was the pacing dark figure silhuetted in the orange glow. He was talking to himself, but none of it sounded like language.

Roger motioned her back, putting himself between her and her husband. Olivia crossed her arms nervously over her chest. Waiting.

Absorbing Gregory's mental state as he watched his friend prowl like a caged beast, Roger realized there was only one logical course of action. He removed his tweed jacket and handed it to Olivia with a gentle half smile. "Now Olivia, love, remember that sometimes you have to just let men be the brutes they are."

Clinging to his jacket, Olivia looked at both of them suspiciously. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to defuse him before he does something he'll regret." Wishing he knew a better way, Roger rolled up his sleeves and sighed. "Just stay back, all right? He'd never fogive himself if he hurt you."

Quickly crossing the clearly, Roger caught Gregory by the arm and dragged him away from the fire. His friend's eyes blazed as if the bonfire were still raging inside of him. His face was smudged with dirt and his hair wild.

Gregory struggled to get away from Roger's grasp. Wanting to return to his blaze, he pulled hard against the hand that held him. Roger dropped his weight back, freed his left hand and cuffed Gregory across the face.

It only took an instant for the fury in his eyes to focus on his target, then Gregory's roundhouse went wide as Roger dodged out of the way. Nimbly dancing back from the fire, Roger manuevered into a patch of dirt between the trees. "Come on Richards, you're better then this."

Snarling deep in his throat, Gregory swung viciously at his friend. Roger took the hit in his shoulder and came out of it swinging. Catching him in his side, Roger kept the upper hand for another second as they circled each other. Gregory was slightly taller and more solidly built, but severely handicapped by his blinding hatred.

Laughing with bravado, Roger ducked another punch and got in a thump on Gregory's back. "Weren't you the one telling me how you always beat me?"

A fist hissed in the air past his ear and he knew that had been close. "Still not quite it yet," Roger baited. "Maybe I should let you practice up and come back."

The crack of fingers against bone was on Roger's chin this time. Wincing as he shook out his jaw, he still managed to smile. "Getting better."

Tightening his shoulders, Gregory fell into a fighting stance. He had sparred with Roger hundreds of times in the old gym. Pulling on the gloves and going at it until they were both bloody was a common way to deal with the problems of their youth. Now his knuckles were bare, and starting to bleed. The stinging felt good.

In hindsight, Roger could have used a nap before the fight. He didn't have the fuel of years of suppressed emotion behind him like Gregory, who seemed to have no intention of pulling his punches as another blow connected with his shoulder. Grunting as he shook out the abused muscle, he contemplated going to the dirt. It would be soft enough from the rain yesterday, and it couldn't be much worse. His blood was already trickling from the corner of his mouth.

He caught Gregory on the back of the knee with a curved kick and down they went. Straining muscles against each other like two lions fighting over a kill. They rolled over each other, twigs cracking beneath them and larger branches digging into their flesh.

Roger felt the rocks scrape against his skin through the fabric of his shirt. He tasted the copper of blood as Gregory bashed his head into the ground. Vision faded as they both fell into instinct. Rolling, shoving, gaining the upper hand for an instant only to be pushed back into the dirt again. Breath came in gasps between the echoing woosh of air being expelled as ribs collided with shoulders.

Both tired, but neither would concede. Roger felt his own exhaustion burn through his muscles, but he could see it reflected in Gregory's eyes. When the back of his head was again shoved into the dirt, he pushed up hard with his knee, throwing Gregory off to the side.

They lay there for an enternity, panting up at the stars with brused ribs complaining at every breath.

Still clinging to Roger's discarded jacket, Olivia approached them slowly, waiting for them to spring into battle once more. But they remained down.

Her concerned expression drifiting into his vision like the moon breaking through the clouds. Her fingers were cool against the sweat-soaked cheek of his face. "Darling." Olivia whispered softly. "What have you done now?"

Roger pulled himself to his feet slowly. Pausing as he rose to each level to make sure he was still intact. There would be bruises, bloody scratches to sting in the shower, but no permanent damage.

Reaching down a hand to his friend, he pulled Gregory up. He looked like hell, mud mixed with the blood on his face to give him a grotesque appearance. But his eyes were quiet. "Not bad for a couple of old men, eh Richards?"

Patting his old friend on the back, Gregory returned a cautious hug. "Not bad at all, Baxter. In fact, I think you've been practicing."

Rubbing his jaw ruefully, Roger grinned as he took back his jacket and tossed it over his shoulder. "Not enough I'd say."

Going to his side, Olivia carefully kissed a clean spot on Gregory's upper lip. "Better?" she asked softly.

Delicately wrapping his arm around her shoulders, Gregory nodded. "I feel like myself again."

Shuddering, Roger threw a wink at his friend. "Wait to you see who you feel like in the morning. I'm going to be off my run for a week with this kind of damage."

Stopping on the steps to look up at the sky, Olivia sighed, "Look at all the stars out here."

Sensing his moment had ended, Roger ducked towards the door. Gregory took a step towards him and extended his hand. "Thanks."

Clasping his hand in return, Roger winked roguishly, "Not a problem. As long as we keep these little bouts a few years apart, you're welcome."

Smiling down at his wife through brused lips, Gregory remembered how small she was. He ran a dirty thumb over her pale chin and sighed. "I find myself owing you an apology again. I let myself get completely out of control, if it hadn't been for Roger-"

Olivia silenced him with a shake of her head. "You wouldn't have hurt me darling-"

"I might have-" He interrupted, and this time she quieted him with a soft kiss, tasting the earth and the blood from his fight still on his lips.

Still mere centimeters away, she whispered, "I love you Gregory, even when you frighten me."

"I never mean to frighten you Liv." Resting his forehead against hers, Gregory's heart ached with regret.

She caught his face between her hands, ignoring the blood and the darkening bruises. "I know that. That's why I'm still here."

He kissed her forehead and left a brown spot of blood behind from his lip. "You are still here aren't you?"

Olivia's smile trembled with emotion. "I am, and I'm not going anywhere."