AN: My computer has been acting schitzo... hence, there might be quite a few gramatical errors... I don't know what I did to offend my new computer but I'll woo her back, don't worry!

Stand By Me

Chapter Three

Amy Cohen had thought that eighteen years with the Drunken Bastard formally known as Owen Cohen had left her with an understanding of a tense situation; but now, sitting in the corner, staring back at the young woman who stood there, she truly understood the meaning of "tense".

A bright, extremely chipper smile that held no warmth and big dark eyes that held an equal amount of warmth… Amy found herself besieged by a disturbingly perfect blank gaze and, if she hadn't grown up beside Maggie, she probably would turn tail and run right now. This chick was just… plain… scary.

Maggie however, seemed immune to the Gaze of Death… she continued to babble on… wait, no… "Stop that!" Amy shrieked, throwing out a hand and grabbing Maggie's arm firmly. "Stop that! That's the equivalent of a mom showing pictures of me naked!" She looked back at the young woman—what kind of girl went by the name of B?— and caught her reaction to Maggie's next giggled words.

"Aw, Ames, come on… you look so cute naked!"

Never had Amy been the victim of such a gaze… she half-expected her hair to burst into flames by the force of the careful emotionless quality. No one person can look that utterly blank… unless they want to kill you, Amy.

This throwaway thought, something that suddenly popped into her head, caused an immediate reaction. Her stomach, loaded up with more junk food than could be digested, dropped and tightened in the same curious feeling; luckily, after a few calm breaths with her eyes away from that utterly fierce gaze, she found herself feeling almost like herself.

Almost… "Bianca, we still have some food… take a seat and I can go get you an extra drink? I have more embarrassing stories of Aimless here."

Ah, her name was Bianca… wait, Bianca… Bianca Montgomery… oh… whoa… that Bianca…

All appetite now completely gone, she pushed her plate away, deciding not to test her stomach any more today. When she looked up, Bianca was now shifting a strangely, psychotically chipper look to Maggie and saying, "Actually, I have plans for today… you know what? I have a few minutes to spare for my best friend. And I just came in to pick up a plate of nachos… which you clearly have some of. So this is…?"

"Oh… Bianca, meet Amy Cohen; Amy, I want you to meet Bianca Montgomery." When Bianca very calmly held out an open hand, Amy had a very deep desperation to simply sneeze in her hand for an excuse. Yeah, not all that polite, and certainly not hygienic, but it always worked now didn't it? Yet, Amy took the offered hand and felt a flood of relief when the hold she encountered was firm but not tight enough to remove any important parts.

Amy didn't even raise her eyes from the table until Bianca had eased into her seat, and asked, "How long have you two known each other?" Okay, either Maggie has gone blind since Amy had last seen her or, somehow, this chick was able to hide things from her. Plus, there was a kind of lilt there that piqued Amy's attention... maybe it was her imagination?

"Oh, well, we met when Amy moved in next door; her mom died and she moved in with her uncle Owen. We became pretty inseparable, Binks."

Bianca nodded, her nachos untouched, except for the two that Maggie had swiped as she had talked. Her hands folded in her lap, she smiled at Amy, "This means of course that you get to share some of the Sacred Stone Secrets now, right." Maggie snorted but the brunette kept on going. "I mean, so much of her life before Pine Valley is still a mystery to those who love her. I'd love to know any embarrassing stories about my best friend."

There was that weird lilt again. A slight waver in the words that made Amy frown in contemplation. Bianca didn't notice the frown because her eyes were still locked on Maggie; Maggie didn't see either look because she was happily pigging out. Completely ignorant of the strange things going on in the heads of her two best friends.

Which was why she was so baffled when she looked up to find the two brunettes peering at each other sideways, blue eyes and deep, deep brown locked together in some weird look. Wiping her mouth with a napkin, she studied the two girls who had her heart, one eyebrow raised in slight amusement when she realized what was going on.

Jealousy. The thought sank in, and, despite the strangeness of the idea, there was something about it that made her grin. What did she think, that years of devotion and friendship and talks and shared secrets would just vanish? Jealousy. No, friendship like this never just vanished.

"You don't have to be jealous, you know?"

Her words, when they sank in, caused both woman to look over at her in confusion and then they quickly rushed to explain that that wasn't the point. It was an amusing sight... or would have been if she could have understood anything over the cacophony. She held up her hands, and then shook them for extra emphasis, just to get both females silent. "Do you have any idea of silly this makes you look?"

Both women continued to eye her, shooting each other a clear look of bafflement before turning glances back to Maggie; the thought exchanged was simple. They had no idea who she was talking about yet. And, while Amy wasn't exactly freaking out about losing a few hours of catching up with Mags, she was getting defensive. After all, Bianca had started looking at her like she was some kind of bug as soon as she'd appeared at the table.

"Things have been really screwy lately but, you know, I feel like we can really get our feet back now... I feel like this is a whole new beginning for us."

Another exchange of thought, another shared look of confusion and then Maggie turned in her seat, giving her complete and utter attention, not to the shocked into silence Bianca but to the wide-eyed Amy. "You have no reason to be jealous of Bianca."

"Uh?" The sound, made by the brunette who was suddenly completely out of the loop, was a quiet noise was sudden shock and, while Maggie didn't even seem to pick it up, Amy heard it, clear as day.

"I know that things really sucked, especially right before I left and, how, every time you tried to get us together for a lunch or something I basically bolted but, look, when you walked in here, I realized something. I missed you... I've really needed a friend right now, you know and, now, I'm so lucky that one has come back into my life. I really want to do some things here, I want to show you around town and maybe, help you find that store you want to open."

Okay, that got Amy's attention; shifting her sight from the stricken young woman across from them, she beamed at Maggie. "Really?"

"Oh, really, there are so many business people in this town. I have no doubt that the Crescent will be built in less than a month. There's be a hundred little brooms parked out front and, you know what, you'll make Salem look like a non-witchy town." Amy snorted at that and Maggie grinned right back. "And, yes, Ames, that is a hint for what you're thinking about."

"I have to go."

"Huh?" Maggie looked away from Amy, eyebrows raising in question, watching as, in a single heartbeat, Bianca was off her seat, purse in hand and stood there, ready to leave with just a few steps. "Um... you didn't even have any nachos."

"No, I just remembered a prior engagement and I really have to go and meet with this... person. It's a... it's a big appointment and I have to be there... now."

"Oh. Well, here, you can take something with you. It'll only take a few minutes to go get a doggy bag."

"No! No, I mean... I really need to go, like, now, you know?" The stare she gave to Maggie was intense and, with a sigh, the blonde gave in to the order... although not without a parting gift. Before Bianca knew what hit her, Maggie was on her feet and her arms were locked around her.

Usually, Bianca would use a hug to steal a moment or two of Maggie's scent, of the mingling of her lotion and shampoo and any other of those sometimes strange scents that followed her... once, she could have sworn she smelled like sandalwood. Now, though, something was off, something that made Bianca wrinkle her noise and breath out the scent quickly. She must have hugged that girl. That was the answer to the question of why there was some other smell there.

She pulled away, giving Maggie a hurried kiss on the cheek before tearing out of the restaurant and letting the door slam behind her. Maggie simply took a seat back with Amy, chirping, "So, when's your birthday again? I need to start shopping to catch up for lost time."

Bianca Montgomery had spent the last three months basically watching Maggie—her Maggie—make out with Jonathon Lavery on every surface in Pine Valley. It had become a kind of curse. It was like, no matter what she did, boom, there was Maggie and Jonathon, making out like psychotic bunnies.

She had been forced to watch this, for months and say absolutely nothing. She understood the rules of this little dance that she and Maggie were on; she'd passed Maggie up for a long-distance relationship with Lena and, well, God knows, Maggie had a right to have someone who could give her what she needed.

But this? This hurt Bianca in some way that Maggie's out-right relationship with Jonathon didn't. Sitting in her car, staring out her windshield, she struggled for the understanding of what it was. And then, like a blow to her head, it hit her full-force. Amy had a past with Maggie… she had years of time that Bianca didn't, an entire life before Pine Valley… before her.

They shared memories… they shared tears and laughter and probably slumber parties and most likely all kinds of things that her and Maggie hadn't had. They hadn't seen each other in years and, instantly, Maggie had latched right on, without a single thought. Bianca had learned, the hard way, that Maggie was an intensely cautious person when it came to her heart.

Bianca had finally found herself blessed enough to have a small part of that, even if the hold was strenuous these days. Amy, after all these years, still had a piece of that heart… and Bianca was left on the outside, trying to look in. And, Bianca decided as she started the ignition, this new feeling as an outsider feeling really, really sucked.

They had decided to split the tab and, standing out front the restaurant, Amy set Maggie's cell number into her own phone, marking it as simply MAGS. "I'm almost afraid to get in the car and drive away." Maggie laughed, sliding the strap of her bag across her chest before letting her hands drop.

"Nothing to be worried about, Ames. I meant what I said in there, and I mean to keep this promise. I missed you so much."

"I know… I missed you too." she could feel herself smiling, could feel her grin on her face and the warmth in her stomach and chest. "And, you know, I didn't even realize how much." Maggie laughed, watched her for a few minutes and then, in a sudden surge of movement, she locked her arms once again around Amy.

It was a wonderful feeling... warmth and caring that Maggie so desperately needed. And Amy knew it, she knew Maggie and she knew the look of desperation in her eyes. Any hesitation she had about her current plan faded away in a simple decision.

The operation was a go.

For long moments, he stood at the door, staring down at the phone and considering calling her back. No, she'd call him back... she always, always did.

Sighing, deciding to stop worrying--what good did it do? What good did freaking yourself out ever do?--he opened the door to the apartment and stepped in, closing the door behind him as silently as he could.

The apartment was silent and dark and, immediately, he went in and checked Maggie... out cold, curled up on the bed. He frowned at the photos spread around her form, and, in the soft light of the bedside lamp, he studied a few.

The past was a dangerous and painful thing for them and, they had decided, as an unspoken decision, that thier past was not something to speak of. Too many things in those histories that were too raw and too painful.

Photos, of two girls, one black-haired and one blonde... varying ages... and, every so often, he caught a glimpse of a second face, caught a glance of a face identical to this young Maggie.

He picked one up, held it to the light and studied the way they stood together, and it struck a painful cord for him. He had few pictures. Most of them had been destroyed in the fire he had set years ago... most soaked through with kerosene and lit afire with a single match.

He remembered the way the fire had raged, tearing through detergents and soaps, ripping into washers and dryers and then rising up into the home above, the dark place of nightmares he'd been locked in for so long.

What photos remained lay hidden in his corner of the apartment, grainy images of him and Erin, their growth through the years... Erin's perfect fall of red hair, even in the hazy pictures, shone through like liquid fire.

He laid the photo back down, shut off the light and left her to sleep; in the kitchen, he found the bottle of liquor in the top cabinet, pulle it down thankfully. It was like some fucking joke, him reaching up into the cabinet like Mom used to; wasn't he usually the one dumping it out?

The first heavy shot made him grunt, burned his throat as it went down and he took another, groaning, thankful for the way it immediately hazed the world around him.

Good... wonderful... he took yet another shot, leaving the kitchen and dropping onto the couch in the living room. This would be his night. He would sit on the couch, drinking before, with a grimace he would fall asleep on the couch just before dawn.

And he dreamed of fire racing through the Lavery household the night he finally snapped.

Nova Scotia...

Balancing the paper bag with the mail between her teeth, she fought the lock with the key, a deadly head on fight that ended with her third full attack; the key went in and, with a muffled "Hah!" she managed to turn the knob and kick open the door. The bag was dropped to the couch, the mail dropped beside it and, sighing, she went back and got the keys; the door was shut and locked, and the keys hung from the lock.

The contents of the bag—eggs, milk, cereal, broccoli, more than enough cheese to feed a small army of rats for three or four months—were loaded into the fridge. When she had a Coke out of the fridge and opened, she shrugged off her jacket, folded it over a chair and, sipping her soda, she headed out of her kitchen and back into her living Room.

She took a seat on her couch, lifting her feet to the table in front of her; on the table beside her couch, the light on her phone flashed a steady red light. She was a busy young woman and, with a tired grimace, she reached out and pushed the button on top.

A long beep... a silence and then Irene's voice filled the room. "Hey, look, it's Irene and this is about Hank. He says the deal looks like it'll get it done. You were right... but then, you're always right, huh? Anyway, call me back, I got some big info on the move itself."

Delete that... she deleted it, sighing at the effort of reaching just a little bit after running around all fucking day. The next message, from Ken, was his typical rant and rave, and a few seconds of his cheap attempts to get in her pants... bastard...

She leaned her head back, almost regretting the decision to start the messages... a sip of Coke, a grimace and she ran fingers through red hair, trying to clear away the growing migraine. Yes, caffiene was bad, but, come on, she needed caffeine.

And then his voice was there, a tentative sound that she always knew... the voice of someone approaching someone more powerful than himself... approaching her. "Erin?"

"No... Daddy... Jonathon didn't leave the stuff out. I did... Daddy... Jonathon didn't do anything... he didn't do anything wrong."

Setting the Coke down on the table, she twisted, staring at the phone and her eyes widened in instant alertness. Oh shit...

"Erin... I really want to talk to you. I mean, um, we need to talk. I need you to call me back as soon as possible. It's really important okay... and, just make sure you take care of yourself, ok? I mean... watch your back because-"

For long moments, she waited, and suddenly realized that he wasn't going to say something else... that the message was over. She was shaking, literally, and felt suddenly chilled.

"Daddy... please... stay with me, don't go up, he's... he's doing his homework... he's busy... Daddy, no! Stay with me... please, Daddy!"

And then she exploded up in movement, a blur of jeans and a tanktop, red hair lifting off her shoulders as she checked the front door; she checked the back door and then, tearing up the stairs, she checked all the windows.

Oh shit... Coming back downstairs, she moved through the house, clicking off lights, checking doors and windows again and, all work forgotten, headed back upstairs with her cell phone.

Maybe she was panicking too soon, maybe she was coward... but, hey, didn't cowards stay relatively safe? She locked herself in her bedroom, closing the curtains and setting the phone before her as she headed to the closet.

"Daddy, please don't go after Jon! Please! He's been so good... I left those toys out, please don't go up... please Daddy!"

Opening it, she stood on her toes, hands searching and, with an explosive sigh of relief, she closed fingers around the handle. Falling back, she got a good hold on it, and the weight was an instant comfort.

The claw hammer was the second of a set, and the other lay under the front seat of her car, ready for her to grab at a moments notice. This one, hidden in her closet, had spent many a night under her pillow, the handle brushing her fingertips.

Tonight would be one such night.

AN: Please review! Thank you!