.."No, Mama can't be dead. That's not real!"

..."See I stuck her right here with my knife...you could say I fucked her with it."

..."You want it, here it is, come get it. Come on!"

"Run, Baby girl. Run!"

Gasping, Ellen woke sitting up in her bed, sweating and panicky. Now she had two hazy memories from her past life, but had no idea what to make of them. Fumbling over the bedside table she poured herself some water and drank thirstily. Then she looked around--she was back in her room, but her wheelchair was nowhere to be seen and her windows had been shuttered. How'd she get back here? She recalled saving Otis from the lynch mob and exchanging words with him, but nothing else beyond that. Uh oh...had her old self come calling? Maybe it was the contact with Otis.

"Hey," she hailed one of the orderlies posted at her door. "Where's Grace and Maria?" The man ignored her. "Hellooo? I want the nurses I know to come here."

Finally, the guard acknowledged her. "Is there a problem?"

"Yes, there IS a problem. I want Maria or Grace or my doctor Branigan, I need to talk to someone."

"Dr. Branigan is on his way. He'll be here shortly," came the clipped answer, and she was put on ignore again.

"You guys are assholes." They didn't respond. "Assholes, ya hear me? Cocksuckin', lard-filled, tight-assed, pig-fuckin pricks! hahahaha, how you like that?"

"George, think the other one has come back out again," one whispered to the other.

"I can hear you, ya know! I'm pissed off, yeah, lil crippled Ellen is pissed off! I want my doctor!"

Dr. Branigan arrived shortly thereafter to a thoroughly annoyed Ellen. The look on his face, though, made her uneasy. He looked positively livid, walking stiffly to where she was in her hospital bed and pulling a chair up. He deposited himself in it, grey eyes glittering. Man, he looked pissed at her. "It's nice to see you're awake, and not raving and hissing," he observed evenly.

"It's nice to be awake, doctor. You look pretty enraged right now."

"Yes, I suppose I am. After that stunt you and/or Baby pulled it was felt things would be better all around if you were in a state-appointed hospital."

"What? But I was doing fine here, I know and trust you all, and I saved lives by doing what I did!"

"That was taken into consideration, but the risks outweighed the good. After an initial period of observation, and work on your legs, AND if you behave your rotten self, you may be transferred back to us. And..there's one other stipulation." He paused for emphasis. "You must agree to appear on the Morris Green show along with your psychiatrist, Dr. Lowell."

Ellen had seen that program that passed for a talk show and hadn't been impressed; Morris Green seemed to her a pudgy, pompous ass. Rolling her big eyes she groaned, then agreed.

Branigan sighed, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes. "You know, my wife and I...we couldn't have any children. Just my luck for me to grow to love the craziest bitch this side of the Rio Grande." He jumped up and walked quickly from the room.

Ellen's face puckered up, trying to keep her own tears from falling. That was probably the best compliment anyone had ever paid her.

"Hey Dr. Branigan, I'm gonna pack my stuff now."

"Ok."

"Oh, doctor?"

"Yes?"

"I'm packing my stuff."

"Uh-huh."

A few moments later...

"Hey Dr. Branigan, you know, I was thinking...I'm gonna pack my stuff."

The doctor looks up from his clipboard, annoyed and amused at once. "Sure, Ellen."

She continues sorting her few personal posessions. "Oh, guess what? I'm packing my stuff!"

That girl did have her own brand of humor, Branigan thinks drily. She was putting a brave face on a highly precarious situation, which was just as well. "Ellen, go pack your things," he jokes back with her.

"You think I should," she answeres primly, batting her pretty eyes. Her hair was a couple of inches long now, in tight curls all over her head, making her look younger. She'd already spent her time fretting over Otis being put in solitary confinement, mostly for his own safety, but neither of them could do much about it at the moment.

She was moved to her more 'neutral' hospital and settled in, and they duly undertook major surgery on the damaged nerves in her left leg. They were also more resistant to her inherent charms, but she remained undaunted. She missed Dr. Branigan and Dr. Lowell, and Maria with her thick black hair and Spanish curse words, and Grace's constant meddling. No leniency was granted her, either, she was watched at all times and her door was kept locked, and the wheelchair was kept out of her reach except at allotted times when she was allowed out.

Intense physical therapy followed the surgery, and she could stand and walk a few steps without assistance, but it was a stretch. Her legs had been unused for so long, and been so injured, it was an uphill battle. She worked hard for she wanted to be completely independent.

Plus, Ellen had a plan forming in her head.

Soon enough Ellen finds herself in front of cameras once more, marvelling at the better equipment than that used by Lance and the hideous decor--it was that era when people thought avacado green and tangerine orange looked great together when decorating rooms in houses and offices. She took a deep breath to center herself, shifted in her wheelchair. She probably could've walked out on crutches but it was decided it would make her look more harmless if she remained in her wheelchair.

"Hello, Miss Firefly," came the soft yet snooty voice of the host of the Morris Green Show--Morris Green himself. He was wearing one of his tailored suits complete with wide lapels and a dark green tie. He shook her hand, smiling. Ellen didn't think it was very genuine but smile back. "Bet you never thought you'd be on television."

"And I bet you never thought you'd be in the presence of a real live Firefly," she grinned smugly at him.

"Ellen," warned her psychiatrist, Dr. Lowell, as he approached.

"I know," she responded, rolling her eyes.

Morris Green was preoccupied with with staring at her heavily glossed lips and modestly revealed cleavage.

"We're on in five," called the producer. Everyone took their places. Ellen adjusted her beige peasant blouse to show more breast and pulled her slim back skirt up a bit to reveal still-supple legs, which were just now getting their musculature back. She found she enjoyed making assholes uncomfortable.

"Welcome, welcome to the Morris Green show," announced the chunky man, obviously enjoying the attention immensely. "Today we have a very special guest, indeed two special guests. Remember the shows I did on the Dr. Satan cult murders? Well, we have oneof the members of that family, lovely Vera-Ellen 'Baby' Firefly, and her psychiatrist the brilliant young Dr. Frederick Lowell. Welcome to the show," he smiled at his two guests. The cameras panned in on each of them.

"Glad to be here," burbled Ellen. Dr. Lowell merely looked nervous, dark eyes darting around.

"Now you survived being gunned down while running from the law, that story in itself is pretty, ah, pretty amazing. But what I wanna concentrate on is the events since then. So, you have, ush, acute amnesia?"

"That's right," she answers.

"Guess that's a medical term, ha ha--all I know is to be a killer you sure are very 'a-cute'," he chuckled at the joke he'd made. Ellen wasn't pleased and it showed on her face.

"Well, aside from basic things she doesn't recall anything from her past life," Dr. Lowell put in. Getting back on track Morris has the doctor explain what she was suffering from.

During the commercial break Morris puts his hand on her knee. "So, Vera-Ellen," he begins.

"I prefer Ellen," she tells him, her face a mask of politeness.

"All right, Ellen," he cooes at her. "You ah, doing anything after the show?"

"Just going back to the hospital."

"I was thinking, you know, being in the situation you're in, you need all the help you can get. Some good publicity could really be good for your case."

"What..what are you getting at," she asks, green-blue eyes glinting coldly at him.

"What say you, ah, indulge me this evening? Shouldn't be too difficult for you, Baby was a rather--let's say, loose woman."

"You gotta be fucking kidding me," she retorts, slapping his hand off her knee. "First off, I'm NOT Baby, I am Ellen. Whatever Baby did has no bearing on me, here, now. And second, you're a moon-pie faced buffoon and I'd never let you anywhere near me if I could help it."

"Ok, let's cool it," admonishes Dr. Lowell getting up out of his chair to get in between them.

"We're back on in five seconds," calls a technician.