"Hey sweetheart," Spot said as he walked into the flat the next night after work. He bent down to kiss her, but she turned her head so that the kiss landed on her cheek. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"If you're gonna leave, please leave now," she whispered, looking away from him.

He forced her to look at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Did you think that maybe I didn't know about your reputation around here, Conlon?"

"What reputation?"

She gave a slight sob. "Your reputation with the ladies, of course. Everyone knows that you only stay with a girl long enough to get what you want and then you're gone. How many girls, Spot? How many girls during the first six months of our marriage? How many since you brought home your crippled wife."

Without speaking he stood and walked over to the door. He looked at her over his shoulder. "There haven't been any since I brought you home from the hospital," he whispered before walking out.

She stared at the door in shock. "Spot," she called softly, her voice wavering.

----------

Spot stopped short when he walked into Rae's flat. She was draped in a chair, one leg hanging over the arm of the chair, her nose buried in a book. When she glared at him over the top of the book, he turned and stalked back into the hallway. He knocked and waited for her to respond before he walked into her flat and dropped into the other overstuffed chair.

"What's eating you?" Rae asked.

"Lessa," he replied with a sigh.

She nodded. "What about my old partner?"

"She asked me about all the other girls…"

"What did you tell her?"

"That there hadn't been any since her accident."

"What about the others?"

"Even I don't know how many there were!"

She rolled her eyes. "One hundred and twenty-nine…" she said. "Would you like names too?"

"Did I ask you?" he snapped, storming from the flat.

----------

Spot walked back in an hour later. "Do you still want to walk?" he asked.

She hesitated a moment before answering. "Yes, but it's impossible."

"I've been talking to a doctor friend of mine…he says that he thinks you could walk again…we just have to teach how to do it…"

"H-h-how?"

"We start by getting up to stand by yourself first…and then we go from there…"

She nodded and refused to meet his gaze. He crossed the room and lifted her into his arms. After a moment he lowered his feet to the ground much as he had done several weeks before. Once her feet rested on the floor, he took a step back and she crumbled to the floor before he could catch her.

"It's no use," she sobbed.

"You CAN do it, Silk…you just have to TRY," he said, taking her hands and pulling her to her feet. Once she was off the floor he wrapped his arm around her waist to keep her standing. "Ready to try again?"

They tried again several more times, each time with the same result.

"No more, Spot, please," Silk said wearily. "I can't take anymore tonight."

Without a word, he lifted her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. Once she was settled in the bed, he walked back out into the main room and dropped into the couch, falling asleep as soon as his body hit the couch.

Silk woke up several hours later when she felt him crawl into bed next to her. "Who was at the door?" she mumbled.

"Skittery."

"What is he doing here at this time of night?"

"His placed burned down and he needs somewhere to stay for a couple days…I offered him the couch."

"That's nice," she muttered as she dozed off again.

----------

"What happened to your friend Skittery?" Silk asked two weeks later. "He didn't come back last night."

Spot sank into the chair. "He married Sage…the widow upstairs."

"Oh my…"

Spot nodded. "It seems that Sage is really sick…so Skittery stayed to take care of Katie last night…but you know how Mrs. B is…she said that if Sage expected to stay here, that better not happen again. So he's marrying her so that she can stay in the flat and he can take care of Katie while Sage is sick."