Title: The Touch – Chapter Fourteen – So Long, So Wrong
Author: Linda/Brynna/Brynnamorgan
Rating: M for Graphic Language
Categories: Romance/Supernatural/Spiritual
Characters: H/OC
Spoilers: None

A/N: One more chapter (with some MAJOR hotness) after this one and an epilogue. Thanks to everyone who actually stuck through this one to the end.

Summary: Because, you moron, you hate seeing anyone in pain, even if they supposedly deserve it. Now you gotta go make everything all better. You're worse than the perfect heroine in a bad romance novel.

Lyrics Credit:

"So Long, So Wrong" as sung by Alison Krauss and Union Station, 1997

"You have tired me with your wanting ways
You can't buy yourself to be complete
I have given up caring anymore
Once you were big in a world that's small
And now you're all alone"
Chapter Fourteen – So Long, So Wrong

Sabrina let herself get lost in the vivid blue of her lover's eyes as the room exploded around them. Jimmy, a well-respected doctor and hospital board member, had just revealed what should have been impossible, and that was the secret both had carried since childhood. The entire room could not have existed for all that the two cared; Greg's eyes delving deep into hers, the barest quirk of a smile on his lips.

Love.

Trust.

Always.

"Okay, class, back to your seats. That's an order," he added with a thwack of his cane on the nearby counter, causing an obedient silence to come over the room. "To pick up where we left off," Greg drew a double arrow pointing at the headers, "what could happen?"

"Well, going on the theory that she's been building up again and ... whatever it is has no place to go," Cameron stated quietly, turning to look at Sabrina, "she has to do something with it."

Dead silence in the room as heads moved from Greg to Sabrina repeatedly, eyes widening, narrowing, closing in thought. Emotions tumbled through the air until a series of sharp ones rose above the rest, causing Sabrina to shut her eyes in absorption.

Defeat.

Sorrow.

Regret.

"She shares it with him."

Stacy's voice was soft and gravely with pain. Slowly she stood up, turned and walked out of the room, avoiding eye contact as everyone stared after her.

Let me.

Greg watched as Sabrina jumped to her feet and hurried after his ex. Gutsy, he had to admit as he turned his attention back to those sitting before him. He caught a wave of puzzlement.

Rooftop.

Suicide?

Smoke.

Probably not a good idea for Greg to talk to her anyway, Sabrina thought ruefully as she hurried out the conference room after Stacy. The woman was unstable, emotional, but somewhere, deep down inside, she'd loved Greg. Why can't I dance for joy? she wondered as she double-timed her steps, glad that she wore sneakers instead of pumps. Because, you moron, you hate seeing anyone in pain, even if they supposedly deserve it. Fucking wiring that came with your so-called gift. Now you gotta go make everything all better. You're worse than the perfect heroine in a bad romance novel. She rolled her eyes, then repressed a grin at the wave of reproach coming from Greg. Okay, I'll be easier on myself, but really.

The scent of cigarette smoke reached her as she opened the door to the roof. Cautiously she stepped, not wanting to startle Stacy. The last thing anyone needed was a dive off of the roof.

Sabrina finally found her, sitting up against a wall and staring moodily out at the sky, a cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth. Slowly she approached the other woman, finally coming close enough to sit down next to Stacy, draw her knees up under her skirt and lean back in silence. Several minutes passed before Stacy finally stirred, stretched and winced.

"I'm getting too fucking old for this shit," she said softly, extending her pack of cigarettes to Sabrina. "Smoke?"

Sabrina did her best pothead "toke" imitation. "Not unless you have something stronger than tobacco, dude."

Stacy barked a laugh. "That's been a long time. College. And you?"

"I refuse to answer, Counselor, on the grounds that I may incriminate myself."

They both laughed softly before going silent again. Stacy tossed aside her cigarette butt and lit another before speaking again.

"Ever married?"

"Once. Divorced several years ago. You?"

"Once. Still together."

"Good man?"

Stacy shrugged. "As good as they get, I guess."

"You don't have to settle for that."

"No, I don't. But I am. You see," Stacy wiped hurriedly at the corners of her eyes, "I have this thing about being alone. And... at one time I didn't settle for anything less than the best, but I let him get away."

"Yeah."

"You know, he really is an abrasive son-of-a-bitch."

"Rude."

"Jerk."

"Opinionated."

"Jackass."

"Dickhead."

"And we love him anyway."

Snort. "Was there ever a choice? One look at those baby blues and I was a goner."

"For me I think it was his ass."

"He dresses to the left noticeably."

It was Stacy's turn to snort, causing Sabrina to giggle. "Christ, we're a couple of dirty old broads," Stacy said dryly. She stretched again and made a face. "And if I don't get off this cold concrete they'll have to cart me out in a wheelchair."

"Nah, we'll just steal Greg's cane and make him leave in the wheelchair." Sabrina cautiously got to her feet, pausing to dust off her knees and behind before extending her hand to Stacy. "Come on, fellow old lady, before you become a part of the pavement. Won't help that arthritis in your lower back..." Her voice trailed off as Stacy stared up at her.

"I won't even ask how you knew that," Stacy finally said as she grasped Sabrina's hand and let the other woman help her to her feet. "Oh, good," she added, bending over to dust off her knees. "No weird vibes this time."

"Thank God," Sabrina agreed as she straightened her skirt.

"Telepathic?"

"Empathic. I get emotions, occasional verbal thought, visual, but generally feelings."

"Hmmm."

"Stacy?"

They paused at the door. "What?"

"I don't expect us to be friends."

"That would be awkward. Fortunately I won't be around to make things uncomfortable."

"Leaving?"

"Wouldn't you?"

Sigh. Here goes Little Miss Fix-It again. "Probably. But, I do want to say something."

"What?" Stacy stubbed out her cigarette.

"If you ever do decide you don't want to 'settle' for less than the best, look me up." When Stacy shot her an odd look Sabrina added, "I know a few good men. Quite a few. Just get your act together first."

"I'll think about it," Stacy finally said as she hurried down the stairs ahead of Sabrina and vanished.

Shaking her head, Sabrina slowly descended the stairs, thinking about the interchange between herself and the troubled attorney. The last thing she'd expected was a meeting of the minds, she mused as she got onto the elevator and went to Greg's floor. From there she found him alone in his office, sitting in his big chair, playing with his yo-yo and frowning as he looked out onto the patio.

"Didn't your mother tell you that your face would freeze if you frowned all the time?" she teased softly. Immediately his face brightened and he reached out for her hand.

"Hey, little girl, want some candy?" he said with a leer as he pulled her to sit on his left thigh. "If you reach down real deep in my left pocket I'm sure you'll find something for your pretty little mouth."

"Mommy and Daddy always told me to never accept candy from strangers," she cooed, smoothing her fingers over his face as he lowered his head to within a breath of hers.

"Well, let's get better acquainted, then," was his reply as he lowered his mouth to hers.