The ringing telephone was straight out of hell. It shattered the blissful quiet of his dreams, demanding his attention. Gregory lifted his arm from the nude shoulders of his sleeping wife and grabbed the receiver before it woke her. He held the phone to the side of the his head away from her.

"Hello?"

The line had the distant sound of an overseas connection. "Gregory, I'm sorry I woke you." Roger's voice was too serious.

"What happened?" Gregory's whisper wasn't as worried as he expected. The worst case scenario was impossible, Olivia was safe curled against his side.

"Caitlin's been hospitalized." Roger explained with a heavy sigh of resignation. "She's all right. She went diving with Casey, something went wrong-"

Before his conscious mind even knew what he was doing, Gregory was removing himself from her arms and searching the dark floor for his boxer shorts. Olivia murmured in her sleep, snuggling into her pillows. He straightened the sheet over her shoulder. There was no reason for her to be awake yet.

He changed their airline reservations as he got dressed. Switching the phone from one ear to the other, he waited on hold as he packed his suitcase. Gregory picked on outfit from her suitcase, black trousers and a dark purple sweater set. Something comfortable for the fourteen hour plane trip home to California. The classical music on the phone faded into an unfailingly polite attendant with a strong British accent who altered their reservations as he finished packing her clothes.

They had an hour to get to the airport, and the cab would meet them downstairs in half of that. Gregory felt his guilt rise as he reached for her shoulder, "Olivia..."

Casey's pacing figure was immediately recognizable in front of South Bay General. The sling had been off his arm for a week, and he was thrilled to have his arm back. He had clean clothes, thanks to Heather's thoughtfulness. He'd taken a shower in the doctor's lounge, but without any sleep, it seemed like slapping a new coat on paint on a rotting house. As the cab stopped he hurried to it, meeting Gregory as he opened the car door. The older man looked rumpled, his polo shirt and khakis wrinkled from the long plane ride. His hair was mussed, and his eyes had the glazed look of too little sleep.

"I am so sorry." Casey began nervously.

Olivia stood up slowly, depending on Gregory's hand as she rose from the cab. Gregory released her as he paid the taxi driver. Olivia's fingers shook slightly as she touched the young man's shoulder. "Roger said it was an accident."

Casey shook his head, taking in the dark smudges beneath her eyes with deep concern. "I invited her and Julian diving with Heather and I. I picked the kelp forest-"

"You brought her home." Olivia interrupted softly, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "Looks like you're playing the white knight again."

Casey caught her hand as she removed it from his shoulder. He took her arm, steadying her as he realized how much fragility her exhaustion gave her. Just Friday she'd been glowing with excitement about the trip to London.

The gentleness in Gregory's eyes as he returned to her side spoke volumes about guilt he had for subjecting her to the arduous trip. Olivia's tiny smile took too much effort to comfort either of them "You should go on ahead and talk to Roger. Casey can walk me up."

"Sure." Casey offered as she patted his arm gratefully. "She's on the third floor, room 318."

Gregory touched her face, wishing he could bring some color back to it. "Only if you're certain you'll be all right."

"I'm fine." She started weakly, trying to concentrate on the warm feeling of the morning sunshine. "Really darling, I think just not flying or driving for awhile is all I need."

"I'm sorry about all this sweetheart." His thumb ran the curve of her cheek. "I was looking forward to taking you shopping."

"Get on with you. Go check on our daughter." She shooed him off, calling after him as he entered the hospital. "You'll just have to take me shopping here."

Casey watched the forced smile drain out of her face as Gregory disappeared behind the doors of the hospital. "How was your flight?"

Her free hand rubbed at the crick in her neck. "Endless. Fourteen hours to LA, with something nasty going on over the midwest."

"Something nasty?" He started towards the hospital doors.

Casey's arm was absolutely solid, but her lingering nausea refused to vanish. "Gregory wanted me to sleep, but we ran into some turbulence, and that ruined that idea."

Recognizing the hint of green in her face sympathetically, Casey nodded knowingly. "My dad used to get airsick. My mom said she should have realized they were doomed when they got married. No husband of hers could want to stay in the same place as much as he did."

"I miss your mother." Olivia admitted as she leaned back against the wall of the elevator "She always had the best smile." Casey felt her look right through him into the past. Some memory she didn't share with him brought peace to her expression. "But having you around makes me feel like I've still got her."

"Is this going to turn into a 'your mother' story?" He teased as the elevator stopped on the third floor. "I'm thinking of starting a book of them. Everyone seems to have one."

"Everyone loved Alex." Olivia left the safety of the back wall of the elevator slowly, taking care not to move faster then her mind could keep up with. "Talking about her makes it seem like she's still with us."

Unaccustomed to his temporary role as caretaker Casey got a few steps ahead of her before he realized she was still next to the elevator. One of her hands was on the wall and the other held her head, as if that could steady it.

Rushing back to her side, Casey gave her his hand instead of the wall. "You all right?"

Olivia's weak smile did little to reassure him. "Must be tired." Pausing to collect herself, she released a little of her death grip on his hand. "I'll be fine."

"I can get Dr. Baxter-" He knew her reply before she said it. Olivia had a touch of Alex's stubborn refusal to ask for help. Casey couldn't help liking that about her.

"Oh no. I'm fine." She insisted with surprising strength in her voice. "Just walk a little slower for me."

"Caitlin's room is right here anyway." Three eighteen was on the right, and it only took a moment to lead Olivia to the chair by the bed. With the breathing mask gone, Caitlin looked like she had just happened to fall asleep there. Olivia reached for her daughter's hand, fighting the tears out of her eyes. Caitlin was fine. Gregory had promised her that.

"Mr. Richards must be talking to Dr. Baxter. I'll go find them, get the doctor to explain to you everything that's happened." She looked better sitting down, there was a trace more color in her face.

Olivia knew the concerned look the was so evident on his face. He was a sweet young man, one that would make an excellent husband someday. "I'm all right Casey. I promise to stay in this spot until you come back with my husband and the good doctor."

Casey reached for the knob of the door, but returned his hand to his side as his concern got the better of him again. "Does your husband know you aren't feeling well?"

She lowered her gaze to the floor for a moment, and gestured him closer, as if she planned on sharing a secret with him. "My husband had to spend the last half of our plane ride back, holding my head in his lap and trying to convince me I was not going to be throw up."

"Oh," Casey paused and mulled the idea of that side of Gregory Richards in his head. "I see."

Olivia shook her head slowly. "No, you don't yet." Her eyes looked right through him again, but this time, she was looking at his future. "But perhaps someday soon."

"Do you notice he's not even bothering to disguise his handwriting anymore?" Gregory fumed as he threw the latest letter on to the table in disgust.

Roger lifted it and looked at the threatening letter through the plastic evidence bag. "Do we know how it got under the sofa in your living room?"

"Rose brought it in the moment she found it. Mr. St. John posted this letter nearly a week ago. It's another threat against Olivia and her pregnancy." Ricardo tucked the letter back inside the blank manila envelope he had brought it to the hospital in. "Your surprise trip to London must have upset his plans."

Gregory shoved a chair into the table and paced towards the window. "You're saying he went after my daughter because he couldn't hurt my wife?"

The detective tucked the envelope under his arm and nodded grimly. "It looks that way."

"What's next Detective?" Gregory asked with his back to Ricardo. He couldn't trust himself to look at either of them. The anger he depended on in moments of crisis was failing him. "He flies to London to hurt my son?"

"I don't think he'd go to that trouble." Roger replied with a quiet smile from his perch on the corner of the table. "Caitlin was a substitute for Olivia. She's the real target."

Ricardo fingered the edges of his badge thoughtfully. "That's it, isn't it?" The doctor was absolutely correct and he looked over at Gregory's back suspiciously. "Something happened that's made it personal between St. John and your wife."

Chuckling darkly, Gregory turned around slowly and stared down the detective in disbelief. "My wife did something that angered an international jewel thief? You can't be serious."

"No." Ricardo corrected as a picture started to become clear in his head. "She didn't anger him- she's just the right kind of target."

Gregory took a breath to explain to the detective just how wrong he was, but Roger coughed and finished the detective's thought for him. "St. John's made it personal between the two of you."

"That boy can't get to me and he knows it." Gregory sneered, certain that he could triumph over Cole St. John, the two-bit thief of Europe's back alleys.

"Oh he knows." Ricardo continued Roger's thought with a steady sureness. "He knows he can't hurt you. You don't feel."

"He's got you figured out." Roger's hand on his shoulder reminded Gregory not to hit the detective across the face like he wanted to. "Olivia was the only chink in your armor a man like St. John needed, at least until-"

The room became totally silent. All three men knew where Roger was headed and no one wanted to add the extra strength to their mutual horror by saying it aloud.

"But to answer my question, dear lady, yes, my father still speaks fondly of his time in Sunset Beach, and the beauty of the women he met during his time here." Cole promised Bette in his faux French accent that identified him as 'Julian'. "And do not fear, your beauty did not escape his discerning eye."

Bette batted her eyes in mock modesty. "Good." With their hospital breakfasts in hand, Cole opened the door to Caitlin's room and had to bite back his impulse to laugh in victory. Olivia had returned from England.

Better still was the fact that she looked like hell. The pregnancy that had his father so disgusted was obviously hard on her physically. A toll he was happy to have compounded with Caitlin's little 'accident'. The stress evident on her face sent a thrill of excitement down his spine as he sat down on the other side of the room. He let Bette take the seat next to Olivia. Cole wanted to take the time to enjoy the anticipation.

The two women shared a hug as he dug into his cheesy scrambled eggs. They were atrocious, but Cole cared little what he ate. Food did not interest him. Being this close to her was all he needed to get his heart racing.

He ate his dull buttered toast as he started with her feet. Sensible black flats, something she could slip off on the plane. He pictured her head on Gregory's lap, feet curled up on her seat. The greenish cast to her face spoke of the churning of her stomach. Her husband would speak softly to her, whisper in her ear that he loved her and he would always protect her.

What would Gregory whisper when he looked down at her in a hospital bed, those graceful cheekbones of hers stained with tears of pain, and had to tell her their baby was nothing more then a bloody mass of dead tissue. All the hopes they had for their precious baby would be washed away.

Cole's fingers went limp in desire as he ran searching eyes over her hands. Would her delicate fingers clench white in agony? He dropped his fork, the plastic clinking weakly against the floor.

They continued their conversation. He was blissfully ignored. Cole bent to retrieve his fork, wiping it off with his napkin and finding the hint of a swelling in her stomach. Pregnancy would be lovely for her figure, adding the fullness that promised new life. It was almost a shame he had to end it.