It's not explicit, not gory, there's no blood, no description. All of you who get so uptight and squeamish over that, it's not in here. I don't like describing surgeries, since they're boring, so I didn't. (If you want to be a surgeon someday, and I just insulted you, too bad. ;))

Disclaimer: I do not own anything except the things I own. The things I own are the things not owned by Colfer. Colfer owns everything except the things I own. The things Colfer owns are the things I do not own. :) Try that one, all you people who think you're the next Artemis Fowl.


Valerie groaned as Zane gently pushed her away, and sat up, flipping the lights on. "Don't do that! I'm tired."

"Wake up. Breakfast will be coming soon. The doctor will probably want to see you too. Do you want to be dressed?"

She opened her eyes, startled. "Why? Aren't I wearing anything?"

Zane laughed at the horror on her face. "Well, you're dressed, but you're wearing flimsy pajamas, and I'd at least want to be in jeans and a t-shirt, if not a combat uniform."

"Ha, ha." Valerie curled back up, and lay still. "I won't bother. These are much easier to move in. If I did want to get involved in any combat, which fortunately for everyone else, I don't, I'd wear these if I couldn't the combat uniform."

"Sure." Zane stretched out across the bed, resting his head on her side. "What do you think is going to happen?"

Valerie muttered something reprovingly. "You've got to wait and find out. You don't need to know right now."

"I want to know."

"Too bad." Valerie ruffled his hair playfully, and leaned over to kiss his forehead. "Before I leave, maybe. For now though, you'll have to put up with it. I like secrets."

The door hissed open, and Valerie looked up, pulling Zane head into her lap as she propped herself up against the pillows. "Good morning." She nodded to The Tyrant as he stepped into the room, accompanied by Dr. Hinesburg and a bodyguard carrying breakfast.

"Nice to see you're feeling so well," said The Tyrant cheerfully. "That little spat you two had yesterday was really quite amusing. I had no idea Zane was anything more than a sidekick. It always seemed to being you making the decisions, but it looks like he has a little more power and influence than I could have guessed. You obey him?"

Valerie met Zane's eyes a moment, a slight smile on her face. "Well— some of the time. Not always."

Zane laughed, and reached up to brush her hair out of her eyes. "Either you punch me, or you don't. It's always a gamble, isn't it?"

"You know me better than that!"

Dr. Hinesburg sidled up to the bed, cautiously reaching out to pick up Valerie's arms. "Err— this afternoon, I'm going to do surgery with five of my colleagues. Will that be alright?"

"Of course." Valerie scooted around to give him more room to examine her arms and hands. "Do you think I could stay awake for the surgery by some chance? I'd like to see how it's done, just in case I ever have to fix something complicated on the run."

"Oh, you couldn't!"

"I meant temporarily."

"You couldn't stay awake!" he repeated, shocked. "It would be horrible! It's going to probably be a fourteen hour surgery, maybe longer. What if something started to wear off, if we didn't re-inject you in time? What if you upset something in the lab? What if—"

The Tyrant waved a hand, cutting off his protest. "Just do it, Hinesburg. She'll be fine."

He blinked several times, and seemed on the verge of saying something, but decided not to at the last moment. "Right then. Someone will come get you a little before noon."

Valerie nodded. "Can Zane come with me?"

"Sorry, but no." The Tyrant turned. "You two are dangerous. I'm not letting you both out at once! Don't insult my intelligence, Madam!"

With an exaggerated sigh, Valerie leaned back, orange in hand. "Thought I'd try asking anyway. Alright. I'll see you in a few hours or so. Just make sure you have enough local anesthetic."

They went out, and Zane sat up, reaching for the tray. "Why do you want to stay awake? I mean— I guess this is a personal choice, but I'd really rather not see someone cut and sewing and injecting my hand if I had a choice. Of course, blood doesn't really affect you, but still."

"Just to make sure they don't do anything incorrectly." Valerie shut her eyes tightly. "I don't want to be rendered incapable forever, because The Tyrant's angry I ruined his reputation."

"Ah. That would be a good reason." Zane nodded to the tray. "You eat something. I don't want to get in another fight with you."

"I was going to eat," muttered Valerie defensively. "I was just thinking."

"Just so long as you eat." Zane yawned. "So did you think of anything yet, or are you still on that ridiculous general plan?"

Valerie glared at him. "For your information, I was expanding on that ridiculous general plan! I'm going to need to get a hold of a lot of things that are hard to get anyway."

"Like what?"

"A nuclear bomb."

Zane gasped, and stared at her, wide-eyed. "You've got to be kidding me! A nuke?"

"I am kidding." Valerie laughed at the relieved look on his face, and picked up a sandwich. "Once you get start bombing everything, you're putting your trust in something other than yourself, and you're probably putting innocent people in danger."

"So we're not using any kind of bombs?"

"No." Valerie stopped chewing, and closed her eyes again. "Well— at least, I don't think so. Not nukes, but a bomb could be involved. Remember I used the bombs in The Fortress."

"I remember." He remembered the elation of seeing The Fortress destroyed, and he also remembered the sheer terror he'd felt when he'd found out they had seconds before things blew. He remembered his horror when Madam couldn't get into the copter, and he remembered hurtling down the stairs, and throwing them both under the car. He wasn't so sure that repeating a bomb process would be a good thing.

"Don't worry," said Valerie cheerfully. "You're in the bomb shelter, you know. You should be fine, even if I did use a bomb that way, but that's not how or why."

Zane sighed, and shook his head. "I never really thought we'd get anywhere this far."

Valerie yawned. "That's not a fault. I was certain we wouldn't."

"You were?" asked Zane in disbelief.

"Everything pointed to the inevitable death. I guess I really am lucky, you know. I mean— I'm good, and there's no denying that, but I've managed to escape death narrowly several times already." Valerie licked her fingers, and settled back comfortably.

"You mean you weren't sure any of those things were going to work, and you tried them anyway?"

"If I hadn't tried, I would have died and lost for sure."

This was not an arguable point. Zane had nothing to say about it, but he had the nagging feeling things had been left unfinished. "I never thought I'd get this far, then."

"Why not?"

For a moment, he didn't answer. "Well… keeping me alive isn't top priority."

Valerie looked at him a moment. Studied him hard. It was difficult to say what she was thinking. "Why do you say that?" she asked finally. "Why is your life not a top priority?"

Zane stirred uncomfortably, and finally set the tray on the dresser, turning out the lights. "You know why."

"Do I?"

"Yes."

She moved closer to him in the dark, setting her head on his shoulder. "There are a lot of things you don't understand, Zane. Things are different now. I think you know I've abandoned my original assignment. Maybe I'll never tell you why, but your life is a priority now."

"Liar."

"I'm not."

Zane pushed her away— not too roughly, but firmly. "A damn good one then."

With a laugh, Valerie rolled over and curled up, setting her back to him. "I won't argue with you Zane, but later on, you're going to feel foolish. You're important to me."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"What?"

Zane rose on an elbow, and leaned over her, pushing his face into her silky black hair. "Why are you afraid to kill me?"

Valerie was very still. Neither of them moved for several long moments, and he began to think she wouldn't answer him. "Because… because you remind me of someone," she whispered at last. "You remind me of someone. That's why."

"Who?"

That question she would not answer. "Leave me alone!"

Zane leaned back with a sigh, willing to let it go. He was pushing her buttons again. She had a lot of them, and it seemed that they all had to do with her personal life: her family, her name, her past, the Sun Ye On, and why they wanted her, the child, the fool, the dead.

For a few hours they lay together in the dark without making any noise. Neither or them wanted to be the one to break the stiff silence. Finally though, the doors hissed open, and eight guards stepped into the room, followed by The Tyrant and Dr. Hinesburg.

After a quick check to make sure she'd done no horrible damage to her hands in the last few hours, Valerie was hauled out of bed, and surrounded by the guards.

Neither she nor Zane said anything the whole time. He met her eyes for just an instant before she was escorted out of the room, and that was all. He wondered if she had plans. He wondered if he wasn't going to see her again. Perhaps she'd make a run for it.

Valerie trotted along quietly in the center of the huddle of guards, tightly enclosed, but with plenty of room to move around. After all, the entire criminal world had a healthy respect of her now. She killed Kusac Trabar— that was public now, and she'd blown up The Fortress. The Sun Ye On wanted her dead, and she'd bargained with The Tyrant. They'd probably write a textbook for young criminals on her eventually.

In the operating room, a group of men in white coats were discussing methods of restructuring fine areas of the body, such as the hand. A few of them looked as uncomfortable as Dr. Hinesburg, but two or three looked as though they'd worked for The Tyrant before— and they probably had.

Even though they'd all been told she was young, they all looked shocked when the guards parted to reveal a little girl, with innocent looking black-brown eyes, and a curious smile. This was the person threatening to topple several international COs?

More astonishing were the substantial injuries she had received, and the fact that she wanted to stay awake during the surgery.

With some doubt, she was motioned to the operating table, and they set to work, injecting her arms and hands with all kinds of chemicals until she couldn't feel anything up to her shoulders. Some of the needles were left in, and she was put on several steady drips. It would be catastrophic if she began to feel things half-way through.

They had all been warned to be polite, not to ask questions, and say nothing that would make her angry, but curiosity won out. "Doesn't this hurt you?" burst out one, finally. "How could you have ignored all this damage for so long without painkillers?"

Valerie smiled ruthfully. "Control. It does hurt."

Several of the guards lining the walls looked away hastily as the doctors cut off the bandages on her arms.

"If you need it, there are trashcans in all the corners," murmured one of the doctors who looked like he was used to working with the Mafia. He did not look up from his work. "Your arms and hands took a lot of damage. The bones. The nerves. The tendons."

"I tried." Valerie watched he adjusted the lights and leaned over to examine her fingers more closely. "First the crusher, then I fought my way out. The bandaging was sloppy, and I kept using my hand. My arm got hurt in the train explosion I set off, and I used that too."

"It's amazing any of it still works. It's more amazing your body was capable of handling the pain. Rehab is going to be long, and it'll be difficult to rebuild some of this structure."

Dr. Hinesburg nodded. "This is going to be a hell of a long surgery!"


You know, I watched a movie about the Holocaust called: The Pianist, and it really got to me. I mean, I can read stuff, and almost nothing bothers me. Maybe it's because I don't watch a lot of TV, or maybe it's because I'm a pianist too or something. I don't know. It wasn't horribly gory, or anything...

You who do not review: Your evils will condemn you on the day of judgment. :)