(*Author's note: Here is Chapter 8. You know, when I started this, I'd actually thought that I'd be done by the time I'd gotten to chapter 8 - what a dummy I was! Anyway, this chapter is the longest chapter to date and, while I know that some authors do this, I'm not going to apologize for a chapter running long. As far as I'm concerned, the longer the chapter the better! (With in limits, of course. I mean, I don't think anyone would enjoy a four hundred page chapter )

Also, I'm sure that this is fairly obvious but I'd just like to point out that pretty much everything I say/have said/will say about Cathy and her back ground is basically all mine. Let's face it, you don't get all that much information about her in the cannon - I even had to make up her last name because she didn't have one. I'm not going to lay claim to it or anything (it would be a rather hypocritical thing for a fanfiction writer to do!), but I just want to make it clear that my suppositions aren't cannon.

All right, now that that bit of rambling is done. Thank you GoldAngel2 for both beta reading this chapter and reviewing the last one. Thank you Wolfwood11, Ferrum and Kris Ice for reviewing since the last time I've posted. Kris Ice: Actually, I wasn't sure what I was going to have it be for, but those are some good ideas. I hope you won't mind if I decide to use them if it ever comes up :)

Talked about long chapter, talked about Cathy, said my thank you's . . . you know, I think that's everything. So, without further delay: Chapter 8! *)

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Cathy woke up alone and, this morning, it only took her a few seconds to remember why. Daniel didn't live here anymore. She didn't know why she always forgot that - it had been over two weeks now and she still woke up in the morning expecting him to be there. Wishing he was there.

She just couldn't understand it. He'd been an absolutely useless man. A leech who'd taken advantage of her hard work and never offered to help her. She should be happy that he was gone; she wanted to be happy that he was gone.

Eight years. He'd had eight years to make something of himself and he hadn't done it - hadn't even tried! All he'd been interested in doing was eating the food she worked so hard to pay for and watch TV. That was all he did and for eight long years, she had just let him do it.

Until that fateful day, almost two weeks ago, when she'd decided that she had had enough. She had told him that if he didn't want to start pulling his own weight around here than he could just leave. He hadn't liked that and there had been some harsh words said by the both of them (making her happy that Jimmy was already in bed and didn't have to hear it). In the end, Daniel had chosen to go, obviously not caring for her or Jimmy enough to stay.

She wanted to be happy but she wasn't. And, even though it made her furious with herself, she knew that if he called her and tried to make up, she'd let him back into her life. Just like that because, as useless as he was, as much of a jerk as he was, and even though he had left her, he was the father of her child and she still loved him. Probably would always love him.

Cathy only hoped that, one day, she'd be able to forgive herself for that.

She sighed and immediately started coughing. The fit lasted for a few minutes and once it was over, her throat was raw and her mouth was full of spit. As she spat into the wastebasket, she remembered what had happened last night and supposed that she should be grateful that whatever she'd spit up wasn't in her lungs anymore.

After wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she tried taking a few deep breaths. When that didn't make her cough again, she figured that she would be all right. At least, outside of her throat, she felt okay. Which was good because she didn't want to go back to the hospital if she could avoid it.

She still felt tired and she looked at the clock. 9:30. A little more sleep probably wouldn't hurt but it was really about time to get up; especially since she had some things she wanted to take care of before Jimmy got home and, hopefully, before Jet woke up. Showering, for example. And finding out if she had enough food to postpone her weekly trip to the store. Maybe get some house work done too . . .

Shaking her head, she wondered if it was strange to worry about such mundane things the morning after going through a life and death experience. Well, she thought as she dragged herself out of bed, at least I'm being practical. That was much better than running around like a chicken with its head chopped off or having hysterics like people did in movies.

She stretched and unwillingly slid out from under the covers. Mornings were not her favorite time and she always hated to get up. After a bit of looking, she put on her bathrobe (which was only a little less ugly than it was comfortable) and made sure that everything that was supposed to be covered was (if Jet was awake, she had no intention of giving him a show!). When she was satisfied that this was so, she opened the bedroom door and made her way into the living room.

It looked like Jet was still asleep. Just as well, she thought walking passed the couch, she didn't want to have any sort of conversation with Jet until she was more awake - she hadn't tried talking yet, but she was sure that words containing more than a couple syllables would be beyond her. Considering the things that she wanted to talk to him about, it would be best if she could say more than 'Good morning."

She walked into the bathroom and quietly closed the door behind her. After stepping into the shower and just letting the scalding water run over her for a few minutes, she felt much more alive. Noticing how much of the water running down the drain was tinted black from the soot, she realized once more how lucky she'd been to make it out of the hotel alive. One of these days, she was really going to have to thank Jet for that.

As she got to work on her hair, she decided that she didn't have any excuse to put off thinking about . . . everything she'd stopped herself from thinking the night before. She was more or less awake; she'd be alone for a while; and she had nothing else to do that was pressing for the next ten minutes or so. Also, she wanted to have at least thought these things through before she talked to Jet again.

As far as he was concerned, there were really only three things that she needed to think about. In order they were: Jet was a cyborg soldier who defended the world from evil; Jet wasn't the jerk she'd thought he was and she'd wronged him; and she had some warm feelings when it came to Jet.

The first she had already come to a decision about. Jet Link was a cyborg - so what? There was a small voice inside her head telling her that she couldn't possibly be as comfortable with the whole cyborg thing as that thought sounded but she did her best to ignore it. She knew that he was a good man and those wires in his leg could not change that. As for his past exploits as 002, those also didn't matter to her - he'd risked his life to save her's and that was more than enough to make him a hero.

Those thoughts were directly related to the second. She'd been wrong about Jet Link; he was a much better man than she had given him credit for. And now that she was looking back on everything without her rage colored glasses, she could see that she had been unnecessarily cruel to him. He had been brainless at times but he had done nothing that deserved the ripping into she had given him time and time again.

Cathy wanted to apologize but wasn't sure how to do that. "I'm sorry for treating you so badly, Jet - although you did deserve some of it at the time," she tried aloud before shaking her head. Not quite right and a shade too blunt even for her. She certainly didn't want to leave him with the impression that she was only apologizing because he'd saved her life and not because she really meant it . . .

Well, it didn't seem like he was expecting an apology anyway. So, while she didn't feel exactly right with it, she saw that there was no hurry. It wasn't like he was going anywhere anytime soon. At least, he hadn't said anything about leaving.

Then there was the third thing. She guessed it wasn't all that odd that she should be having warm feelings for Jet - considering what he'd done for her. It was just that there seemed to be more to it than just caring if he was all right and she wasn't sure what it could be. Or why there should be anything else. Or if there actually was anything else.

It was strange to be so unsure. He was a good guy and all but she couldn't possibly like him. He seemed like the kind of guy who'd probably grow on her given time, but she couldn't possibly like him already. She knew nothing about the man! And those stories that Jimmy told her and what she guessed didn't count as knowing.

After thinking about it for a minute, Cathy had to admit that she did know a few things about him for certain. He didn't have a lot in the way of common sense but he did care about her son. He was good man despite any of the other faults he had. He also liked his coffee black with two sugars*. The first she had always known on some level and the second she had only come to know recently. The last she knew because that's what he always got when he came to the Sweet Pot. At least, that's what he got those times she let him have coffee -

She thought she heard a phone ringing and wondered who on Earth could be calling her home this early in the morning. Maybe it was Tammi; she was on the morning shift on Saturdays and she sometimes called to beg Cathy to take over for her. That girl's early morning phone calls was one of the reasons she'd unplugged her phone in the first place.

Then she realized, as she got out of the shower, that it might not be for her at all. It might be that Doctor Gilmore calling for Jet. She had been just about ready to throw on her bathrobe and get the phone when it stopped ringing. That meant that Jet had answered it or whoever had called had given up.

Either way, now there was no reason to rush out there at the moment. She toweled off and remembered that she had forgotten to bring any clothes with her. Reluctantly, she put her bathrobe back on. Reluctantly because, while it was more comfortable than it was ugly, it was pretty darn ugly and she found that it wasn't the sort of thing that she wanted to wear while she had company . . .

She shook her head, feeling annoyed with herself. There was no point in whining about it, was there? Besides, she seriously doubted that Jet cared what her bathrobe looked like anyway. She was just being stupid; that's all.

Cathy brushed her teeth and worked the knots out of her hair (pretending that she wasn't primping in the mirror as she did so) before putting the latter up in a pony tail and heading out into the livingroom again. It looked like Jet was awake now but since he didn't seem to notice her presence, she walked back to her bedroom instead of greeting him.

Once she was back in her room she spent a few minutes deciding what to wear. Then she wondered why she was thinking so much about it. Then she sighed at herself for acting so silly and grabbed a shirt and a skirt that were casual but nice (just in case she did have to leave the apartment today).

After getting dressed, she walked back into the living room. Jet still didn't seem to notice that she was there and, as she came closer, she saw that he was deep in thought. Cathy had been about to speak to him when she noticed the expression on his face. He looked so . . . not sad, exactly but definitely wistful. She couldn't remember ever seeing him look that way and she wondered what was wrong.

"Good morning, Jet."

He started at the sound of her voice but recovered quickly. "Hey Cathy." His smile would have fooled her a few days ago, but not now that she was paying attention. However, if he wanted to pretend that nothing was wrong, it wasn't her place to pry.

She had been going to ask if he'd slept well when "Is something wrong?" came out instead.

Jet's smile faltered but he didn't abandon it. "No, nothing's wrong - although, if you'd like to help me up, that'd be good."

Cathy knew that the last thing had been purely a diversionary tactic and she considered calling him on it before realizing that she probably wouldn't get anything out of him that way. Carefully, as not to jar his leg anymore than she had to, she pulled him upright and propped his leg on the coffee table. "Is that better?"

He nodded, "Thanks."

"No problem." She waited a few seconds for him to say something before coming to the conclusion that Jet wasn't very good at small talk Well, she had to admit that she wasn't much better at it. "I'm going to make some coffee, you want some?"

"Coffee?" The smile on his face became a bit more genuine. "I could go for coffee. I want it -"

She cut him off. "Black with two sugars, I know." Smiling at his slightly shocked expression, she added, "It's only how you have it whenever you come to the Sweet Pot."

"When you let me have coffee." His voice was teasing but she wasn't sure if it was just her imagination that he sounded a little hurt as well . . .

She shook off her guilt and said sweetly: "Next time you can have as much coffee as you want."

"Really?"

She pretended to consider it. "Well, as long as you behave yourself."

He crossed his arms. "There's always a catch." The almost pouting look on his face was too outrageous to be real and Cathy couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped her.

"You're too much," she said as she headed to the kitchen. She could just hear Jet say "Too much what?" as the door partially closed behind her. Shaking her head, she got out the coffee grounds and set up her coffee maker. Working at a coffee shop, she supposed that she should be sick of the stuff; quite the opposite, she found that her mornings weren't complete with out at least one cup.

It wasn't just the caffeine - although, that was part of it. It was the warmth in her hands when she held the cup and the bitter taste of it on her tongue. If she didn't worry about staining her teeth and becoming addicted (all right, more addicted) to caffeine, she'd drink it all the time. As it was, she limited herself to one or two cups in the morning and that was it . . . Well, most of the time anyway.

The coffee was brewed relatively quickly. Mainly because she only ever bothered to brew a couple cups at a time - anything more than that was a waste as she had always been the only one to drink coffee in this apartment. After setting up the cups (being sure to put sugar in Jet's and milk in her own), she poured the coffee and headed back into the livingroom.

Jet smiled gratefully as she handed him his cup. "Thank you." Then he drank almost half of it in one gulp and she wasn't sure if she was more amused or repulsed. Really, sometimes he acted just like a child!

She took a seat next to him and took some deliberately dainty sips from her own cup, trying to show him that this was the way it was supposed to be done. He gave her a strange look before shrugging and turning his attention back to his coffee.

They sat there for a few minutes in companionable silence and Cathy's mind began to wander. There was something important that she needed to talk to Jet about, but for the life of her, she couldn't remember what it was. She remembered that she'd been thinking about it when she'd been trying to get to sleep this morning . . . What was it?

After a couple moments of deep thought, it had come back to her. Jimmy, what were they going to tell Jimmy? The reason Jet was staying at her apartment was easy enough to explain but after that . . . Well, she wasn't sure how Jimmy would handle the rest of it - heck, she wasn't sure she had a handle on everything herself! If he should even be told the rest of it at all was something that needed to be addressed.

But it wasn't really her decision, was it? It really was Jet's choice and she wouldn't feel right if she took it away from him. Which was why it was important that she talk to him about it before Jimmy came home.

"Jet?"

"Hmm," he looked up from his coffee with a frown, no doubt hearing the anxiousness in her voice.

She took a second to think of exactly what she wanted to say. "Jimmy's coming home soon."

He nodded slowly, obviously not seeing what she was getting at.

"What do you want to tell him?" At his 'about what' expression, she elaborated, "About you."

He sighed and set his cup on the table. "I don't want to tell him anything." He looked as if he expected her to argue with him.

He was going to be in for a surprise. "All right." She couldn't say she was happy about lying to her son but, remembering when he'd snapped at her last night for cleaning his wound, she had a few good ideas of why Jet would want to. And she couldn't blame him.

Jet opened his mouth as if he was going to make some sort of rebuttal before realizing that she'd agreed with him. "Okay then," he said at last.

There was something else that Cathy wanted to ask him but she found herself hesitating as she opened her mouth to ask it. It'd be an awful lot like prying and she didn't really know him well enough to do that. Still, seeing as they'd decided not to bring Jimmy into this, now would be the best time to ask if she wanted to know. And she did want to know.

"Can I ask you something?"

"About what?" He asked warily, as if he already knew what she wanted to ask.

Her feeling that it was none of her business warred briefly with her curiosity and lost. "Those stories you told Jimmy? Were they true?"

He picked up his coffee and took a sip before he answered. "Mostly."

"Mostly?" Her next question was out of her mouth before she could stop it. "So, what really happened?"

Jet just stared at her a minute and she could see the wheels turning as he came to a decision. "Are you sure you want to know? I'm not going to sugar coat it for you like I did for Jimmy."

She smiled at him. "I think that I can handle it."

He smiled back at her but it wasn't a completely nice smile. "That's what you say now." Draining his cup before setting it on the table, his face lost its humor. "All right, this is a long one, so you might as well make yourself comfortable."

Settling back on the couch, she couldn't help but notice the sudden weariness on his face. She immediately started to feel guilty; she didn't really know what he'd say, but she could tell already that it'd be hard for him. It wasn't right to make him dredge stuff up just to satisfy her morbid curiosity. It wasn't like he owed her an explanation - it wasn't like he owed her anything.

She wanted to tell him that he didn't have to do this, but before the words could even form in her throat he began to speak.

"It all started with this organization called Black Ghost . . ."

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To be continued . . .

* Made this up. I have no idea how Jet would take his coffee. (I didn't really have to foot note this, but I wanted to. So there!)