You know how sometimes they say a story just writes itself?

Yeah?

Whoever said that was a liar!

Care to know how I know? Cause I experimented! left this puppy to write itself, gave it ample time...didn't happen. Finally, I was like 'dayum'...alrighty then...I'll do it myself...

Anyway, just to say...especially to those of you who were so kind as to ask, yes, I'm okay. I'm not sick, I don't have Corona, just writers' block and basically being busy. (I was actually in my first play ever! People undoubtedly wanted to run out screaming, but I had the foresight to chain them to their seats. ;-) Yay me!)

So, as from Wednesday 12 o'clock, Belgium has taken strong measures to curb the spread of Covid19. All bars, restaurants, and non essential shops are closed. Supermarkets, pharmacies,...essential stores are still open. The measures taken are pretty much the same as those in the rest of Europe (and I suspect what will be taken in many more countries), save for those in Italy and Spain where they're even more stringent. No social gatherings or sports' events are allowed, and all classes have been suspended. The government is urging for us to use our sense of 'citizenship' by minimizing direct social contact, and taking every hygienic precaution possible. Translation: wash your hands, and basically lock yourself up at home and cuddle up on the couch with a book, orrrrr an online story? (Hey, here's an idea, you can start, or finish with this one! ;-))

But seriously, I know people around the world read this, so to everyone out there: Be safe, wash your hands, use your head, take precautions. This thing doesn't get the meaning of 'borders', so the quicker you can be careful, the better.

Happy reads, I hope everyone is doing well! And lots of virtual, corona free hugs and LOVE :-)

And Oo, when you do review, let me know what's happening in your part of the world, let me know you're okay! :-)


Downtown Washington

Dagny's Diner
December 15, 2018

I sip my water and smile lightly when I see Emily enter the diner looking for me. She's in a two piece suit, grey with a white button down shirt underneath; it's elegant and yet business like at the same time, her court outfit. She looks a little out of place here; a bit overdressed wearing Armani, and in truth this isn't her usual type of place, she likes it a bit more refined -although she'd never let on-, but this place is close to the courthouse, and not too far from the hospital either. They serve good food, the staff is kind and fast and I've always liked it. It's perfect for a quick lunch.

Emily smiles widely when she notices me and bounds over. I get a quick peck on the lips before she slides into the seat opposite me.

"This is a treat," Emily smiles. "Seeing you for lunch. I wasn't sure the hospital actually let you have lunch," Emily teases, and I smile back. I have a tendency to work through my lunches catching up on paperwork. Emily has a tendency to chide me on my workaholic ways, but she's always playful about it.

"They keep us chained to the hospital administrator desk, didn't you know? Luckily today, one of the nurses took pity on me and my sad excuse for lunch and uncuffed me."

"Sexy nurse?"

I chuckle. "Think Nurse Ratched."

"Eeks," Emily gulps out and I smile.

"How was court this morning?" I ask.

"Keeping white collar criminals on the street one at a time!"

I chuckle again. "That bad?"

"Well, a win is a win," Emily says with a wink. "But, I'll be glad when that new partner arrives and I can pile off my workload to him, focus on people that are innocent for a change."

I nod. Pierce and Chapman is a reputable law firm. A few large and well covered in the media wins have made things hectic at the firm. They're recruiting as quickly as careful vetting allows, but Mabel and Emily are turning down cases left and right. I take a glance at the menu, I already know what I'm getting; the cob salad is pretty great. We get our orders sorted a few minutes later. While we wait, Emily places her hand over mine. She's the touchy-feely type and while I am slightly uneasy about public displays of affection, I've learned to curb my instinct to pull away.

"So, my beautiful Dr. Lewis how was work? Did anything exciting happen?" I smile up at Emily as she looks at me with her soft green eyes full of affection. There are days when I look at her, see that affection so clearly in her eyes and shy away from it, thinking I don't deserve it. I shake my head in reply as I glance over at our hands that are still touching.

"Nothing at work, but I did want to talk to you about Christmas."

Emily raises a brow and adjusts her position on the chair a little. She's gearing herself for bad news I notice and I inwardly flinch at her reaction.

"It's nothing bad, I don't think."

"Oh, so you're not blowing off spending a belated Christmas just the two of us?"

"I'm not," I say reassuringly.

"Okay, then..."

"An old friend called, invited me for Christmas," I start.

"An old friend? I thought you already had plans with Ben?" Emily scrunches her brows.

I nod. "I did, but Ben has Austin and they're inviting Austin's parents over. Ben hasn't met Austin's parents yet so..."

"So you want to give Ben the time to get to know his new inlaws."

"Yes," I say as the waiter brings over our drinks and our conversation is momentarily interrupted.

"The Christmas party is in Holland," I state after both of us have taken a sip. "The Efteling?"

Emily nods. "I know it, I went there a couple of times with my mom when I was little. It's not far.."

"Not far from your mom's home. About half an hour?"

"Yes, something like that." Emily nods, her brows are still scrunched. She doesn't know where I'm going with this yet.

"I was thinking maybe we could spend the 26th together. I know you were planning on flying over. Maybe I can get to meet your mom?"

Emily's furrowed brow change into a big, wide smile. "You want to meet my mom ?"

"Yes,.. I mean. If you're okay with that?"

"Lauren," Emily squeezes my hand and looks at me her eyes twinkling. "I'm crazy about you. Of course I want you to meet my mom! Omg, perhaps we can spend the 27th there too, fly back a day later. I want to show you my favorite city in the whole world: Ghent. I went to university there for two years, such a gorgeous place."

I nod grinning at Emily's enthusiasm. "That sounds great."

"Wow! This is awesome!" Emily almost scants with joy. "So who's this old friend of yours I have to thank for getting you to get over your commitment jitters?" Emily jokes.

"Nurse Ratched. Being chained to a desk does make you appreciate freedom of choice."

Emily laughs out loud. "I'll have to buy that woman a gift."

"Actually, the old friend is Tamsin Skarsen."

"Tamsin Skarsen, the prosecutor?"

"Yes, do you know her?"

Emily nods. "Our legal cases don't exactly cross paths, but I've seen her around, know her reputation. Onorthodox, but brilliant, has a great record."

I nod, the corners of my mouth tugging lightly as I think of Tamsin. 'Onorthodox' does fit her.

"I didn't know she was a friend of yours," Emily says with a degree of bubbling intrigue. "Did you know her from college or something?"

"No, she went to Stanford. I know her from when I was posted on the Enterprise. She's Bo's best friend."

Emily's brows scrunch further. "Bo as in the woman you briefly dated? The one with the amnesia?"

"Yes."

"And is this Bo going to be there?"

"Yes," I nod. "As well as Bo's cousin Kenzi, Bo's boyfriend Dyson, Vex and Evony."

"Evony Marquise as in your former college girlfriend?"

"I don't think Evony would ever describe our college fling with a term as strong as 'girlfriend'," I chuckle softly. "You've met her, you know what she's like."

"Intimidating as hell," Emily says popping her lips. "And drop dead gorgeous. Wow, it's like a whole slew of exes, " Emily mutters a wisp of insecurity easy to pick up.

"It's not like that," I reassure. "I'm going there. Evony and I will be there as a consult for Bo's amnesia."

"Oh," Emily says, momentarily mulling over my words. "So, I have nothing to be ragingly jealous about?"

I laugh and shake my head. "Not even moderately jealous."

The Efteling Hotel

December 25

Tamsin's POV

So right off the bat, I wanna say that today has been awesome. Christmas started yesterday when we all met up at the airport, ate and drank there before we took a night flight to Amsterdam, Schiphol and arrived sometime this morning. We're all low on sleep, but hey that's what you get with a group of people who prefer fratlevel drinking games and pranks over grown-up conversation and sensible napping. But, that's niether here nor there. Kenz and I are used to deadlines and not sleeping and Vex and Evony have their own unique chemical way of staying awake that I don't ask about cause plausible deniability is always the better way to go.

Life is good! Yup! I'm on vacation, we're on vacation, it's Christmas and I'm hanging with friends -family really- sinking back into these sweet chesterfield sofas the hotel has, nursing a fine Belgian beer, looking absolutely stellar in my timeless Rainbow colored tiara and Santa's helper outfit. We're still waiting on some other peeps to join in the fun, but have been keeping ourselves busy chatting, exchanging gifts, hugging, kissing, reminiscing, singing Christmas songs checking out this awesome hotel, the bar, the park,...mostly the bar, and just enjoying each other's company like you're supposed to do this time of year, my favorite part of the year.

Yup, truly. I've got everything I could want and need and everyone I love around me, or I will in just a few hours...Save for of course, one person.

Bo. Yup, Bo ain't here, and won't be here until tomorrow. After Christmas.

I take a swig of my beer.

I mean, dang...girl should be here, right? This theme park tradition is our tradition: mine and Bo's. We started it when her and I still had pancakes for tits, and we planned this together all excitedly and bubbly like teenagers, so yeah...

Reason she ain't here? Her idiot boss. And that shit just doesn't sit right with me. I ain't exactly known for catching feels, I know I ain't the most sensitive or diplomatic. but shit Christmas is sacred and Bo not being here is twisting my insides up like a pretzel. Like the German kind you know? The one with the big grains of salt that when you bite into them your face distorts like Banner turning into the Hulk.

I pull out my phone, and text Bo.

Me, December 25, 7.12pm "I can't believe you're missing Christmas."

Who the fuck makes people work on Christmas, anyway?

Me, December 25, 7.15pm "Who makes their employees work Christmas, ey? Cruel and unusual punishment is what I call that!

A world class douchebag is who. And seriously after she's been away from home for like almost 3 weeks straight?

Me, December 25, 7.16pm "I'm gonna sue your boss. I'll make it stick in court! Imma stick it to the man!"

Me, December 25, 7.16pm"I swear!"

"Remember that one Christmas we got stuck in the Ferris wheel and our Bobo climbed out Ninja style, and then fixed the wheel?" Kenzi states in the moment I pocket my phone.

"That was like all kinds of awesome!"I pipe up and take a swig of my drink. "And then I sued the park later on. Good times!"

"Hell yeah, it was. Girl should be here with us, Tamtam. Explain to me again why her boss is making her work Christmas and you're letting him get away with it."

"I agree" Vex says. "I need to tell her about Jake, and how he broke my heart on Christmas."

"I ain't your cousin's keeper, Kenz. She's like the wind."

"Jake isn't real, Vex." Evony points out rolling her eyes.

"Are you quoting Dirty Dancing to me?"

"That movie was seriously underrated," I shrug. "Also, I refuse to be judged by a woman who tapes Days of Our Lives."

Kenzi gasps, and slaps my shoulder. "You swore you wouldn't tell, Tammy."

"All bets are off when you try to put Tammy in a corner," I grin.

"Bo always listens to my stories about Jake," Vex muses.

"Jake isn't real," me and Kenz chime in unison.

"Are we on the Bo love train now? Cause, I'm going to have to consume a lot more alcohol before I can jump on board." Evony grouses.

"I don't see you popping out of a Ferris wheel, scaling down it, sista." Kenzi sasses.

"Honey, I wear 800 dollar shoes. We can't all have flat feet and wear tennis loafers like the lumberjack."

"Bo is a good listener," Vex mumbles undetered. "She loves my stories about Jake."

"Actually, I can get on the Bo love train if she listens to Vex ranting about his imaginary ex." Evony mutters, and sips from her Scotch.

"Bobers knows Jake isn't real, ja?" Kenzi asks before taking another swig of her beer.

"She indulges his theatrics once a year," I shrug. "I don't think Dyson knows about Jake though," I say wiggling my brows.

"Really?" Vex' face lights up. "I knew there'd be a kind soul I could turn to with my heartache."

Ten minutes later

"I'm tickled by your decision to finally leave the uncultured hole that is the States, but why are we here in Holland this year, love?" Vex asks.

"A girl as worldly as I does enjoy a change of scenery sometimes, Vexie." I say kicking back smugly.

"What our girl Tammy means by that is that she is fleeing the scene, too many exes stalking her at her usual haunts," Kenzi chimes.

"The word 'ex' is a bit much. I don't date, I mingle," I grin.

"I really don't understand lesbians and the need to be clingy," Vex muses.

I shrug. "What can I say? I'm lovable and bitches be crazy."

"And this is why you dragged us to the land of cheese and clogs? You're a lawyer, slap those bitches with a restraining order!" Evony rolls her eyes.

"Tried that once. With Judy. She turned out to be a judge, so yeah that went south quickly."

"I threaten to have mine committed," Evony offers matter-of-factly and sips her Scotch. "Works like a charm."

I throw Evony a raised eyebrow.

"I'm pretty sure that's a chargeable offense. Also, I really should start dating outside of the legal circuit."

"Judge Judy? Seriously?" Kenzi almost snorts. "Yeah, no one saw that one coming!"

"Oh come on, you don't know who Judge Judy is?" Kenzi jumps up seeing my blank expression."Judge Judy Scheindlin is hands down the coolest judge out there; dishing out justice left and right," she says throwing out imaginary punches as she speaks.

"Guess I musta missed that show," I say shrugging my shoulders.

"I seriously question the quality of your day time television, love." Vex responds. "No Days of our Lives and now this? Judge Judy is high class."

"Hell yeah, she is!" Kenzi chimes and high fives Vex.

"Are we discussing day time television? I should have had the good mind to cancel and dump your sorry asses. I could be in Barbados right now snapping at someone to get my drink right," Evony mutters wistfully.

"Not everyone has time to watch day time television Vexie," I offer.

"Ah yes, it's that pesky work thing again that comes in the way of that is it?"

"And general personal grooming evidently," Evony adds eying my hair.

"We can't all have trust funds, my beautiful, delusional friend." Kenzi inserts.

"How do you get by?" Vex asks.

Another ten minutes later

"Hotpants!" Kenzi suddenly shouts as she jumps out of her seat and scurries off only to come to a screeching halt in front of none other than Lauren Lewis. She wraps Lauren into a tight hug, and then pulls back eying the bags Lauren is carrying excitedly.

"Are those what I think they are? Please tell me, those are the overly scrumptious delicious Lauren Lewis cupcakes!?" Kenzi babbles.

"Cupcakes, for you and Tamsin," Lauren nods with a soft smile.

"Yes!" Kenzi yelps delighted and snags one of the bags from Lauren's hands. "Come to momma my sweets!" Kenzi grins and dives into the bag only to triumphantly pull one out and then sink her teeth in, moan, make her way back to us and then fall back into the softness of the couch. "So good, hot pants! Oh..my...God! So good!"

"Kenz, jeez, manners!" I scold poking Kenz in the side. "Say thank you!'"

"Sowwy, hotpants!" Kenzi mutters through her face full of cake, crumbs falling off her chin."Thank you so much for the gooey goodness, they are divine!"

"You're welcome, Kenzi," Lauren replies. By now, everyone has stood up to greet Lauren warmly. I get lucky and get there first, open my arms and scoop the doc up into a bear hug. "It's good to see you, doc."

"You too, Tamsin." Lauren smiles and then pulls away to continue her round of hellos.

An hour later

"Enter Dyson, Prince of Fuckery and Woe,...and he's spotted Lauren," Kenzi mumbles. Me and Kenz are at the bar getting a new round of drinks, her words halting my actions mid stride.

I look to where Kenzi is looking and spot Dyson, Vex and Ciara in the middle of the bar amidst the crowd. Vex has his arms around Ciara in a hug, while Dyson has his gaze fixed on the far corner of the room where I know Lauren and Evony are sitting. His features are drawn and tensed, and I know that look. He's about to blow a gasket.

"Damnit, so much for enjoying my beer," I mutter.

"You better nip that one in the derriere, chica," Kenzi says. I'm already sliding off my seat, grabbing an extra beer for Dy from the bar.

"I'll go greeteth the Lady Ciara," Kenzi adds and I nod gratefully before I push through the crowd. Under a minute later I've said a quick hello to Ciara and I've dragged my cop buddy towards the lounge area of the hotel where it's a lot less rowdy.

"What the hell is she doing here, Tamsin?" Dyson hisses pointing in Lauren's direction.

"Hey, hey...keep the pointing and the swearing down will ya?" I say grabbing Dyson's finger and lowering it. "Nobody likes a pointing detective on Christmas. Channel the Lama."

"Wha? Channel the what now?"

"The Dalai Lama, Dy. Smart fellow, well-balanced, calm, spews truths like Puff Daddy spits lines, wears a frock."

What the heck are you talking about? Are you drunk?" he asks annoyed, narrowing his eyes and checking mine like a cop does. His brow creasing into that smug look he gets sometimes when he thinks he's sussed out a suspect.

"Should I be operating a vehicle right now? Hell no. Am I drunk? Alas, no, not yet. But, we can get drunk together. So here, catch up," I say handing Dyson the extra beer I got him. "Get into the Christmas spirit and then we can all just chill."

"Tamsin, I don't want to get into the Christmas spirit!" Dyson grouses, beer slammed on the table next to him. "I just want to know what Lauren Lewis is doing here."

"I invited her. Lauren is here fo-"

"You invited her for Christmas, and you didn't even ask?"

"Hey, hey, tone it down! Did you ask to bring Ciara? Nice douche move by the way, bringing the girlfriend along for Christmas when you and Bo broke up three months ago. Exactly how long have you've been dating Ciara, huh?" I say holding Dyson's eyes.

"And what does that mean?"

"It means you're moving awfully quickly there, Dyson," I answer not breaking eye contact. "Coming out of a three year relationship, and then bringing the new girl here where you know your ex is going to be? I ain't sure that's cause you've been seeing Ciara longer than you have or if bringing Ciara here is high school antics."

Dyson scrunches his brows. "I never cheated on Bo," he says firmly and by the look in his eyes, and the outrage in his voice, I know he's telling the truth, so that means it's high school antics.

"Ciara doesn't have any family left. Was I supposed to let her spend Christmas alone?"

"Of course not," I relent briefly. "But, you're not getting any points for subtlety here."

"And why the hell did you invite Lauren, Tamsin?" Dyson shoots back his voice picking up anger. "Don't tell me you're playing matchmaker? Because if she thinks she can wiggle her way back into Bo's life, then that bitch has an-"

"Wtf, don't use that word around me!" I slug Dyson in the chest. What the hell is your problem?"

Dyson raises his hands in a wordless apology. "Fine, I care about Bo, Tamsin. I always have, and I always will, and that woman," Dyson points his finger towards the bar. ".. is cold and calculated, has ulterior motives. You can't trust her."

"Ulterior motives? Like what?" I ask incredulously calling him out on his bullshit. It's no secret that there's never been any love lost between Dyson and Lauren. And if this was four years ago, then yeah, I could see it with both of them loving on the same woman, but now? Shit, boy needs to move on, get over Bo, pull his head from his ass.

"Lauren is here because she's one of the best neurosurgeons in the world and I asked her to look into Bo's medical files."

"Wh-what?" Dyson asks, visibly spooked. "What do you mean? Bo's medical file? Is something wrong with Bo? Is she sick?" There's a panic and concern in his voice that makes my anger lose some of its potency.

I sigh lightly as I pull out Bo's rejection letter from NASA, and hand it to Dyson. As soon as I hand him the letter, I see his eyes skirt the page reading it quickly.

"I don't understand,..." Dyson starts. "I mean, NASA turning her down, that's bad, but..."

"Dyson, did Ciara just fuck you stupid?" I grumble supressing the urge to smack him over the head again. "Bo is like the Wyatt Earp of the west, pilot extraordinaire of the Air Force. She's a motherfucking badass! Those idiots at NASA should be jumping at a chance to recruit her!"

"The-then why-..." Dyson stammers.

"Why wouldn't they?" I eye Dyson with my question. "Cause, she was declared unfit, put on medical leave, all but fired."

"Wha-what?" Dyson utters now properly pale and distraught.

"Yup, failed her damn psych evaluation. I had to kiss a lot of ass, and not all of them were pretty lemme tell you, to get her file." I take a deep breath channeling the fuck out of my inner Dalai Lama to stay calm.

"A-and?"

"She blacked out during a routine mission seven months ago. Damn near crashed her plane. She was dazed and distracted, near incoherent afterwards, and she couldn't tell anyone what had happened, she didn't remember. They did a full work-up afterwards, but couldn't find anything physically wrong with her. Given her medical history, the Air Force, in their infinite wisdom, concluded that she was most likely suffering from PTSD, and put her on medical leave. Then, before they could make her see a doctor she up and left!"

"I-I didn't know.."Dyson mutters visibly pale.

"Yeah, that makes two of us. Look, something is wrong, something like Shit Creek wrong. She's been having a lot of headaches and nightmares. At first, I didn't make much of them. I'd hear her have a nightmare like maybe once a week or so, but the last couple of weeks," I say my voice steadier than it was a couple of hours ago when I first briefed the rest of the gang about Bo." The last couple of weeks it's almost every night. And when I found that letter from NASA, and started digging, when I got her file,..." I take a deep breath, I pull my shit together and exhale. "What if she has one of these attacks when she's flying or she's driving? What if she has an accident?"

"We need to call Rand Tech, get them to ground her," Dyson says firmly.

"And do what? Take flying away from her? No way!" I shake my head. "I ain't doing that to her. She's got three weeks vacation coming up, three weeks where she's 'safe'. I say we fucking make the most out of it. Get her the best help we can."

"And you think Lauren Lewis is that help?" Dyson asks incredulously.

"Jeez Dyson, get your head out of your ass! You may not be Lauren's biggest fan, but she is one of the best neurosurgeons in the country, and I trust her! If there is a physical reason for what's happening to Bo then she'll get to the bottom of it."

"And if it's not anything physical? What if the Air Force is right?"

I sigh nodding. "That's why Evony is here too. She and Lauren have been going over Bo's files since they got here," Dyson scoffs at my reply and it irks me. "Bo isn't your girl anymore, Dy. Don't make this into a pissing match," I warn.

"Bo fell back in love with me, Tamsin! We fell back in love. She," Dyson stresses glancing at Lauren."..left."

"And now Lauren is back and you're with Ciara. If you're going to be a douche about Lauren being here, leave now."

"Wha-? You'd kick me out? Dyson asks with the indignance of a fourteen-year-old girl.

"Look, Dy, you're a good friend, you're my bud, but I am 100 percent Team Bo. If you stand in the way of anything that girl needs, I will tackle your ass like a 300pound quarterback, you got me?"

"I only want what's best for Bo."

"Then we're on the same page. Right now, letting Lauren and Evony do their thing tonight and tomorrow is what is best for Bo."

"Fine," Dyson relents. "I'll let it be, but I still don't trust her." Dyson says clenching his jaw, and I can see by his body language he's not going to let this go. There's just too much history between Lauren and Dyson for him to just drop this. Unfortunately, there's nothing I can do about that right now, so I mutter out a "Merry Christmas", and tell him to get to drinking that beer of his. I get the same in reply.

Truce for now.

We return to the cafe, Dyson joining the larger crowd while I veer off to the bar again to get myself a stiff drink. Off to the side, Ciara and Lauren are talking. It's no big whoop surprise those two found one another. Ciara is the dean of Med at Harvard University, while Lauren is Lauren, legend in her field with three revolutionary patents to her name and the best hospitals in the country and the world pretty much always vying for her employment. Those two are probably in the throes of a geek orgasm by now.

I roll my eyes when Dyson wraps his arms around Ciara in this over the top display of possessiveness. God, he can be such a dickhead. He greets Lauren with a grit of his teeth. I take a big gulp of my drink, wince slightly at the strong alcohol, and switch my focus on Lauren.

Lauren is a sea of calm I observe, and I've observed a lot of people. It's my job, what I'm good at, it's a handy skill when you deal with perps, and liars on a daily basis. The body doesn't lie; even when people do. People have tells, some less than others, some hardly have any, but I'm inclined to believe Lauren Lewis doesn't have any at all. She doesn't flinch, her posture doesn't change, her jaw muscles don't tense, there's no change in breathing, nothing to make me think she is either uncomfortable, intimidated, or angry. Any of which emotions, given how things played out, she has every right to be.

I mean, shit, if it had been me, I probably would have knocked Dyson on his ass. I came pretty damn close to knocking him on his ass just a couple of minutes to go, but that's not Lauren. Calmness comes off of her in waves like she's got the Dalai lama on friggen speed dial. Dyson is the complete opposite. Ciara is quite enamored with Lauren and it's making Dyson grit his teeth so hard I can hear it, but then Vex picks up on Dyson being near to boiling and steps in.

"Dyson, love, have I ever told you about the love of my life, Jake?"

A few hours later

"Heya chica," Kenzi announces her presence and slides into the seat next to me. She orders herself and me a shot, slides mine over as soon as it's poured. We toss the drink back simultaneously.

"Damn, that's some good shit." I grouse, and Kenzi hums agreeing.

"Bar fellow, another one please!" Kenzi pipes up waving her hand. "And keep 'em coming."

We toss another one back, and both groan at the liquid that now burns even harder.

"So...Lauren, huh?" Kenzi asks.

"Tu quoque, Kenz?"

"Hey, hey, I love me some hotpants! I ain't into the lady lovin', but that girl's gooey, warm goodness could possibly turn me... Wait, that sounded wrong.." Kenzi scrunches her brow.

"Yeah,"

"I mean her cupcakes! Wait no, that sounds wrong too.."

"Sure."

"I'm just saying out of all the docs you could have asked to have a look at Bo's files, you asked Lauren?"

"She's the best there is."

"Yeah."

"And no one will try harder."

Kenzi glances sidewards, and nods. Lauren is seated next to Evony in the Chesterfield sofa we were sitting in before. Both of them have their noses buried in files. They're joined by Ciara who's digging through a file of her own.

"It's weird to see Ev work, ja?"

"Weird to see her without a glass in her hand," I add with a nod.

"Not snapping at people..." Kenzi adds, and we both chuckle then fall silent.

"You think we did the right thing, Kenz?"

Kenz raises an eyebrow at me.

"The nightmares...we all know the girl has more than enough reason to have them, and what we did..."

"Yeah," Kenzi nods, and I know she understands. The bartender walks over and tops up our shots once more.

"Leave the bottle, mah man. My friend and I have a yearly bet to settle."

I glance over at Kenzi and smile lightly, gratefully.

"You're going down, Malikov."

The next morning

Tamsin's room

Lauren's POV

I use Kenzi's extra key to get into Tamsin's room, and push through the door. The room is stuffy, warm, too warm despite the temperatures outside and it smells like a combination of alcohol and potato chips. I glance around the room, and see a myriad of potato chips packages scattered about. There's also beer bottles on the floor, and a couple of bottles of strong liquor half empty over on the desk. With a small chuckle I shake my head, my OCD kicks in, and I start tidying up left and right. After chucking the empty beer bottles and the potato chip packages in the bin, I move over to Tamsin's bed to check on her.

"What the..." I mumble to myself as I see Tamsin curled up in a ball, snoring loudly, and clinging to something I can't really make out. I pull Tamsin's blanket down a little and blink three times making sure I'm seeing what I'm seeing.

A decorated Christmas tree?

Tamsin's grip on the tree tightens momentarily and I can hear the ornaments rustle in the embrace. I shake my head, and mutter out Tamsin's name in a soft chuckle. Then I spot something else. Green fabric covers the lower section of the tree, almost up to the middle, and there's a tag.

"Captain I. McCorrigan," I read out in a whisper.

Tamsin wrapped a flight suit around the Christmas tree, Bo's flightsuit. I stare at the tag for an inordinate amount of time before my hand involuntarily reaches out for it, the top of my fingers brushing over the stitched lettering. It's an older flightsuit from when she was still a Captain. I never knew Bo then, I knew the Major. I remember the Major; how dashing she was, how once I saw her, I knew exactly what I wanted.

But, that was a long time ago, a life time. I have Emily now.

Still, my finger lingers.

"Doc?" Tamsin's voice startles me out of my trance. "Gods, doc!" she mutters sounding like a creature from the deep. She lifts herself up her face turning instantly pale. "Out of the way!" she yelps as she jumps out of the bed and pushes me past to run for the bathroom. Seconds later I hear a deep retching sound come from behind the closed door. I wince thinking of how horrible Tamsin must be feeling and reach for my med bag, getting Tamsin some much needed medicine.

A few minutes later Tamsin slouches her way back to the bed, the too long legs of her pajama pants rustling against the carpet of the hotel room, her eyes unfocused, half-lidded, miserable. "I think I'm dying, doc. Can a person die from a hangover? Cause I think I might be your first case."

"From a hangover? No," I reassure stifling an amused smile and opting not to overshare about alcohol poisoning or the possibility of choking on your own alcohol induced vomit. "But, you do need to hydrate," I add and go into my medical bag again pulling out two smaller bottles of still water, and a couple of pills. I hand the pills to Tamsin."Take these, they'll help with the nausea."

"Are you positive? I've never felt this wretched in my life." Tamsin comments taking the pills and the bottle of water from me "I'm pretty sure this is what dying feels like."

"I'm pretty sure you're not dying, Tam," I reassure as Tamsin swallows the pills and the water.

"Why do I feel this bad?" Tamsin groans.

If there is ever a segway to go into a detailed explanation on how we still don't fully understand the science behind a hangover, it's now. The current thesis is that veisalgia is a result of a build-up of Acetaldehyde, a toxic compound, in the body. It's actually the first byproduct the body produces when it's processing alcohol and it's been know to cause symptoms such as sweating, nausea and vomiting. Headache, fatigue muscle aches, irritation and even memory loss on the other hand have been associated with the release of cytokines, molecules, usually released into the body to battle infections. But, I refrain from geeking out. I'm pretty sure Tamsin wasn't asking for a theoretical explanation, probably more like something comforting.

"Just tell me Kenzi at least has a headache or an upset tummy or something," I hear Tamsin mutter wistfully and instantly recall Kenzi scarfing down breakfast: a double order of pancakes and eggs and bacon. I smile lightly.

"Oh yeh, she's in agony."

"I knew it..." Tamsin mumbles out as her eyes fall shut.

I step away from Tamsin's bed, and into the hallway. The cleaning crew is there, making their rounds. I tell them I have a hungover guest in the room, and ask if maybe they have a bucket to spare. A couple of minutes later I enter Tamsin's room again and place the bucket next to her bed.

Two hours later

The Efteling Park

"The CT images were clear, no lesions. No hematomas or swelling, contusions. All clear as far as I can make out," I say softly enough so only Evony can hear.

"You are sure?" Evony asks as we trail behind the group going to the next rollar coaster: Bo, Kenzi and Vex in front talking animatedly.

"Yes, I've looked at the photos numerous times. The recovery proces from the trauma is clearly visible. The bullet grazed her skull, cut through the dura mater and the pia mater, but no trauma to the brain itself. I pulled her medical records from when she was first admitted in the hospital in Virginia and those from the Mayo Clinic; the more severe head injuries that did cause swelling and hematomas you can see heal nicely reviewing the photos. I also had a colleague of mine review them. He came to the same conclusion. There is seemingly no physical reason for the loss of memory."

"So the ole hack was right for a change. The memory loss is psychosogenic."

"It seems to be," I concede reluctantly. Psychogenic amnesia or disassociative amnesia, or 'repressed memory syndrome' are all terms used to denote an impaired access to episodic memories (or a consolidation of memories) for a certain time period brought on by psychogenic stress. In laymen terms, it is memory loss that is triggered by a traumatic event; an event with such a high psychological toll that it sends the brain into a self-preserving mechanism and represses destructive memories.

"That's extraordinary," Evony says, and I nod. Psychogenic amnesia is rare, very rare. For it to have encompassed almost an entire year is indeed extra-ordinary. Possibly even unheard of?

"And her other symptoms?"

"Her CT scans are clear, but CT scans don't reveal everything. The migraines, well...there have been some cases were migraines were triggered by trauma to the brainstem and the interaction with the trigeminal nerve, even months and years after the initial trauma. Or, she may have had a mild form of them, one that went by unnoticed. The care she received in Virginia was excellent. The doctors there did a very good job, but..."

Our group suddenly comes to a halt, and I cut off my sentence midstride. I haven't really been paying attention to where we're going, but I notice now we're all standing still in front of a large arched entrance with a huge dragon on top, and Bo's voice rings out asking who's going. Vex and Kenzi are eager. Dyson and Ciara who joined us ten minutes ago also decide to go. Evony replies for the both of us and tells everyone we'll be waiting for them in a café nearby.

"The doctors there did a very good job in Virginia and afterwards at the Mayo clinic but after she was released from hospital, I haven't found any medical follow-up to speak of." I continue a few minutes later. We've taken our seat inside one of the smaller cafes that looks like the inside of a gingerbread house, and ordered drinks; a hot Earl Grey for me, a hot coco for Evony.

"I would have expected monthly and then six monthly check ups after she was first dismissed. Especially with the level of trauma she had sustained to the head. We know there are a variety of symptoms that can emerge from a trauma like that even months or years after the initial trauma has been sustained."

"No follow-up CT scans, no follow-up in general. No psych eval, and no referral to a psychiatrist. What a cock-up."

I nod. "It might be that her entire file was transferred to Bethesda or Langley and that they took over her recovery as well as her rehab, but I have no record of it."

"So either Brand was negligent and didn't follow-up on his patient, or Bethesda and or Langley are withholding files?"

"I'll look into it. I do have the monthly Air Force physicals, and her fitness tests. She was deemed physically fit within a year of being dismissed from hospital, and went back to work."

"No questions asked. Then another year and a half later, there's an incident with her plane." Evony recounts going on information we found in Bo's file.

I nod. "Engine failure. She only narrowly made it back to base. After that, she visits the Air Force doctor twice, both times to ask for aspirins, complaining about minor headaches, an irregular sleeping pattern. The Air Force doctor prescribed a mild sedative, and left it at that."

"Well, we all know Bo needs to be near death before she goes to the doctor, so the accident is more than likely is our trigger event. Which, when all is said and done, she can be thankful for."

I raise a brow. "Thankful?"

"I know you don't like speculating, Lauren. But given what we know, it is most likely that these blackouts too are psychogenic in nature, and that they are more than likely tied to events that happened four years ago. I would venture to guess that Bo is starting to remember, perhaps only subconsciously. Supressed memories, especially of such a lengthy time, are a ticking time bomb. They might never surface and create a void in the life of the individual that can seemingly never be filled, which can lead to depression, and in some rare cases even to an identity crisis. Or, the memories might surface but only many years after the initial trauma. For instance, in cases with sexual violence towards children, memories are often repressed until the victims start becoming sexually active themselves or start having their own children. By that time, the statute of limitation is often already expired, depriving the victims of what could otherwise be a vital step in the healing process.. Also, the longer memories are supressed, the more difficult it becomes to deal with them."

I nod. "You're right, I don't like speculating. She still needs a full physical, and a new CT. And, she'll need to be treated for those headaches."

"And I want to see her in therapy as soon as possible. This will require a tandem approach."

"Will this work?"

"There are no guarantees, but prolonged and varied therapy has been successful before. Not everything can be fixed with medicine and a scalpel, Dr. Lewis."

I give Evony a halfhearted smile.

"I want you to spend time with her here, Lauren. One on one."

"Wh-what?"

Around noon

Tamsin's room

Tamsin's POV

One eye opens and I groan at a multitude of things; the fact that my head is friggen pounding being reason number uno, but seriously what's that fucking light shining in my eyes? Wtf? And Oh my God. I scrunch my nose. What the hell is that smell? God it reeks in here, and then there's this thing poking into my back? What the hell is that? Damn it, that shit is too annoying to ignore! I turn around.

God, that hurts! I open up another eye or is that the one I had already opened?

Why the fuck do I have a Christmas tree in my bed?

Uh...why the hell is it wrapped up in one of Bo's old flight suits?

Wait...

Oh yeah..

I do remember that. Sounded like a good idea..

Damn bloody pine needles...

Gods, this room reeks...

I sink my nose into the pine tree.

Oo, that's a little better..

I do love the smell of pine...

Still...I can't stay in here forever...I glance over at the clock on my night stand. 12pm.

Crap, it's noon. Bo should have already landed.

I really should get up.

No.

Like really...

Twenty minutes later

There's a knock on the door followed by someone calling out my name. "Tamsin?"

"Fuck," my head shoots up recognizing Lauren's voice.

"Can I come in?" The voice behinds the door asks.

"Hold up, doc" I croak. I'm all sort of miserable and dazed, but that god retched stench I crawled away from in the pine tree is still permeating my nostrils, and even I know I can't let the doc into a room smelling as foul as this one does. I need to like open up a window or something. Groaning I roll over to the edge of the bed. Right next to it I see a bucket, and in it the reason why this room smells the way that it does.

Well, at least, it's in the bucket...small miracles and all.. I think now clearly recalling my mid morning spew fest.

I grab the bucket and head towards the bathroom, empty the contents in the toilet and flush it. I take a quick look in the mirror.

Crap, I mean shit, this ain't the first hangover I've ever seen myself with, but damn. I look like I just shared a make-up bag with Marilyn Manson...I splash some water over my face, open up a window and then go to open the door for Lauren.

"Sorry for the smell, doc." I offer as quickly as Lauren walks in. "I suggest staying close to the window," I say miserably making my way back to the bed, and crawling under the sheets again. I close my eyes, my head still pounding. Lauren doesn't reply, but I hear her move about the room. Under a minute later, I feel a cold rag on my head.

"How are you feeling, Tams? Stomach better?"

"I think I pretty much retched up every bodily fluid I have, doc. I'm pretty sure I've lost the ability to spit, sweat or cry. Not that I ever cry," I add quickly.

Lauren smiles softly.

"My head is still pounding like I got hit by a truck, but I'm not nauseous anymore. I'm never drinking again," I add as Lauren hands me another round of pills and some water.

"Sure."

"It's all Bo's fault, and the Russian," I groan. "You should study that girl, doc. I think she has Vodka running through her system instead of blood."

"I'm inclined to believe that," Lauren says lightly chuckling. "I just saw her inhaling three pizzas."

I groan. "jeezes, how can she even think about food?"

"Give it a couple of hours and a bit of rest, and your appetite will come back to you. Just drink plenty of water until then."

"Mmhmm," I nod. "Did Bo arrive?"

"Yeah, she got here this morning." Lauren says. It's over in a flash, but I do notice Lauren tensing slightly at my question.

"Hmm, and how was that?"

"Well, she didn't magically remember me if that's what you were hoping for," Lauren says with an expression I can't read. Poker face indeed. This woman could be an excellent criminal if she wanted to be.

"Well, that would have been nice. After all, we're in a magical place and all. But uh, I meant for you, doc. Are you okay? I ask tentatively. "I know it can't be easy seeing her again like this, with her not reco-..."

"It was fine, Tamsin. I'm fine." Lauren says a little too quickly, a little too dismissively for my liking.

"Of course," I nod. "And Bo, how did Bo look?"

"Physically, she looks okay. A bit tired perhaps, but I can imagine her not having gotten much sleep lately having to work Christmas,.."

"And never being able to sleep on a plane she wasn't flying..." I add, and see Lauren nod her head agreeing.

"Yeah."

"But, you didn't talk to her?

"No, not really. I tried to just start a casual conversation with her, but.."

"But?"

"She snapped at me,.. I said something about Dyson laying it on thick with Ciara cause he was hurt."

"Sorry, doc. She was never really good at letting people in, and ever since the accident..."

"I get that. I'm a stranger to her, Tamsin." Lauren shrugs. "It's only natural."

I breathe in deeply and exhale. "You know Bo was never happier then when she was with you.."

Lauren blinks at me, unsure of what to say.

"The way things turned ou-"

"Was for the best," Lauren quickly finishes my sentence. "I'm happy now, Tamsin. I have a girlfriend, things change after four years, people move on, feelings change. And, the way Bo reacted to what I said about Dyson, she may still have feelings for him. Maybe if you give them some time and space, they might be good together again. They were together for a long time."

"Doc,..."

Around 6pm

The Efteling Park

Lauren's POV

Emily is waiting for me by the exit of the park and I smile wide at seeing her. In her expensive two piece suit, she looks elegant as ever. She pulls me into her arms and kisses my lips, and I cling to her warmth and her kiss almost as if I am drowning. Over the past year her scent has become familiar to me; homelike, safe and warm. In my arms I hold a woman who I know won't hurt me, who is funny and sweet; intelligent and witty, who I get along with so easily. Her laugh is a little surprised but not unreceptive when she matches my hold.

"Are you okay?" Emily asks, and I know it's because I'm acting out of character with her in this moment. Her voice is something between concern and fear and I berate myself inwardly. I'm not big on showing affection in public, and ever since Tamsin called, I have been distant towards Emily for all the reasons I have always had and then some, but hearing Emily's voice now, seeing her shoulders slump, that usual confident smile and posture lacking in the Emily I'm holding, I realize she's afraid, and I realize it's also my fault, and I hate that.

I cup Emily's cheek and smile as widely as I can. "Of course I am," I say. "I'm just happy to see you," My words aren't forced, they're true and spearheaded by the fact that I want nothing else but to be 'okay' for her.

"Let's go," I say with a smile. "I'm looking forward to finally meeting your mom." Emily's hand slides down my arm and into my fingers. She squeezes them safely in her palm, and together we walk out of the Efteling park. I don't look back, even though I can feel Bo's gaze still on me.

Hours later

Emily and Lauren's hotel room

The room is dark, save for the faint shade of moonlight that makes it way through the curtains of the hotel window. It's so quiet, you would think the whole of The Netherlands is asleep, -and they should be. It's 3am after all, but I'm not. Lying in bed next to Emily, I stare up at the ceiling and let my mind wander.

Emily's mother Audrey is quite a remarkable lady. She was a dancer in her younger years, a ballerina who'd danced with world-renowned companies, worked with the greatest dancers of her time and travelled all over the world. When she was dancing in the States, she met Emily's father Philip, they got married within the year. The marriage didn't last. Audrey had the soul of an artist. Philip was a much more practical man, and in the end they were just too different to work out.

Emily had definitely inherited her mother's elegance, her looks and her social graces; both can keep you entertained for hours with funny anecdotes and witty observations. I was glad for the constant banter, glad I wasn't called upon to fill an awkward silence, glad for the distraction.

Emily is a true mix of both her parents. Her work ethic, her practicality, her eyebrows, she had inherited from her father. Emily is realistic, passionate without being a risk taker; grounded, earthy, a planner.

Emily is 33, my age, Christ's age when he hung on the cross if you want a random fact thrown at you, and believe Christian doctrine. I know she loves children, I know she wants them before she turns 35. It's a 'sensible' age to have them at she once told me back when we had just started talking to one another. "Pierce and Chapman will be where we want it to be by then, and I can take a little time for myself then," she had said and I remember thinking how those words felt like a comfort then, to talk to another planner, to have someone remind me of a normal life and the normal things they did like planning. Emily became a friend, a good friend; easy to talk to, easy to get along with, easy on the eyes.

We became an 'us' when Emily kissed me one night. I'd been clueless to her attraction, or perhaps purposely blind, but when her lips kissed mine she tasted like comfort, like goodness, safety, like warmth, ...like cherries, like the taste of her lip gloss. Emily is lovely, truly lovely. More lovely, more complete, more put together, and kinder than I could ever be.

I listen to her breathing, glance over to her and see her chest rise and fall steadily. I envy her sleep, I envy the peace she has in her dreams.

I wonder what my life would have been like if I had met Emily before Nadia, before...

Before Bo.

I close my eyes. I want to sleep. I want to sleep without nightmares. I want to sleep without dreams or if I dream I want to dream about Emily and the goodness she is. I close my eyes.

I don't sleep. Instead of Emily, I think of Bo. The entire night my hand hadn't stopped shaking, my heart and my head hadn't stopped reeling. I don't know what to feel first; I don't know how to feel...all I know is that I do feel. Why does feeling creep up on me now? Emily breathes softly next to me. I draw no comfort from it. Rather, it's a reminder of how alone I am, the backdrop of it, the soundtrack of my life.

Perhaps not alone.

Just lonely.

In a prison of my own making.

Which is perfectly fine. I have a cat.

"How was it?" Emily's voice suddenly sounds out next to me, startling me. Her question is crisp and clear. I blink realizing that like me, she's been awake. It takes a second or two, but my brain switches into gear, latches onto the question Emily poses.

"Evony and I went over her CT scans; there's no visible leasions or trauma to either the frontal or the anterior temporal regions that can explain her retrograde amnesia. She doesn't seem to have anterograde amnesia, which is a lot to be thankful for," I muse. "The memory loss seems to be psychosomatic in nature, she-"

"Lauren, I'm a lawyer. I have no idea what you just said and that's not really what I was asking either," Emily chides softly.

"Seeing her again. How was that?" she clarifies. There's a vulnerability to Emily's voice, but a strength too. A strength I've heard before from her, though not in a private setting, rather in a court room, when she's driving her point home. In the roughly three years since I've known Emily -Emily took over from Brian Grant for my civil suit against Nadia when he and his wife moved away- Emily has seen many versions of me; cool and collected, the angry, bitter, the one of the edge of despair; the tenacious one, loving too.

For a good two years we were just friends. We would see each other off and on, she'd contact me when she was in the city, we'd go out for lunch or drinks. There was never anything between us, just sharing and talking. My heart and mind were still too full of Bo and Emily had an on/off relationship with a married, closeted judge in civil court. We bonded over our messed up love life; me and my stalker ex, she and the closeted judge.

Sometimes now, it's hard to separate girlfriend from friend. I'm inclined to tell her the unfiltered truth because it would unburden me, because I value the truth, because that's how it used to be between us when we were friends, not girlfriends.

"I don't know," I say. The answer is one without dilemma. I don't know what I feel or felt.

"Lauren,.." she chides again. A little more forceful now. Emily can get frustrated with me and my reluctance to open up. I understand. I've never been good at communicating my feelings.

"I felt gratitude: for seeing her alive, talking, laughing," I say about the sheer volume of wonder and happiness that filled me when I heard Bo laugh out loud talking to Kenzi. It was a sound that at one point in time I thought I'd never hear again.

"Just gratitude?"

"I think that was the most prevalent emotion, yes. I felt sadness." I say after a pause picking out the other emotion that speared me when Bo's hand pressed to mine, when she smiled at me. Interest too, intrigue really. Bo has a 'problem', one that needs to be addressed, one that needs to be solved, but that's not what Emily is asking.

Sadness and regret. Sadness at a connection that was cut down the way it had, sad that she didn't recognize me, that I wasn't the miracle cure, sadness that Bo had to go through what she was going through, and I tell Emily. When I'm done speaking, Emily seems satisfied and whispers "Alright," and then adds something about me needing to get some sleep. She turns on her side, she falls asleep almost instantly.

I lie awake for another hour still.

December 27, 2018

Before returning to Washington, we have breakfast at Audrey's house, and then head towards Ghent. Emily was right. Ghent is a gorgeous city; it's old and vibrant at the same time. It's a student city, so it's this great mix of a young people, and trendy bars and shops in a medieval setting. Ghent was the largest city in the Netherlans for hundreds of years. It flourished because of the water canals that, to this day, flow right into the city centre and like its counterpart Bruges it attracted commerce, and the arts and entertainment flourished there.

The city is probably best known for housing the Ghent Alterpiece, one of the most famous polyptychs in the world that dates back to the early 15th century and was painted by the brothers Van Eyck. Some of the panels are being restored at the moment. The entire restoration should be completed by 2022, and is expected to undo the overpaints carried out in the 16th century and reveal much more fragrant, bolder colours.

I'm instantly fascinated by this project; the science that lies behind discovering overpaints, the science of cleaning up a portrait of such importance and what it might reveal in years to come. I promise myself I'll come back here in a few years time, to visit the museum where the panels are being restored and see the progress they've made.

I glance over at Emily. She's seated in one of the pews at the back of the Saint Bavo's Cathedral, and smile lightly. She's been waiting patiently for me to get my geek on reading one of her magazines.

The flight to Washington is filled with our usual banter; it's a mix between shop talk-Emily shares the cases that are waiting for her, usually a selection of the funnier or raunchier ones- and I filter my stories in a similar way, and gossip. I've been at the court house these past four years more than I would like and therefore am acquainted with the people Emily is talking about.

Being with Emily, it's easy.

Later

I push open the door to my apartment and immediately hear a soft thud coming from my bedroom. In twenty seconds flat Arthur is at my legs circling, nuzzling. In a haze I go to check his food, top it off as he purrs appreciatively. My luggage I left just at the door when I came in. I leave it there to maybe tidy up in the morning, and instead go for the cupboards of my kitchen. I pull two open: one with the glasses, and the other with the hard liquor. I go for the whiskey. I hardly ever drink. The alcohol in this cupboard is more for when Ben and Austin are here, but right now I feel like I need it, so I pour myself a generous portion, don't bother with ice cubes and just quickly swallow the liquid down glad for the burn in my throat. I want the alcohol to make me forget, to cut my memories off in their track, by the stem, but it's not working.

I'm frozen in place, unable to move, mesmerized looking at her.

Bo.

For a moment I am selfish and stare at her, look at her, indulge myself in her, and those four years fade away, crumble, disappear. There are seconds where I can't breathe, seconds I am not prepared for. I'm transfixed by her. All I see is her, all I hear is the sound of my heart racing in my chest. I'm thrown back to that hotel room when blood looked like an ever growing ink stain. More than anything it's the smell I remember.

I look down and I see my hands. They're covered in blood, and I want to scream.

Damnit! I clutch the glass I'm holding and pour myself another drink.


Replies to reviews

Joan: The answers are coming, slowly, but surely.

Susan: You might be very right about that ;-) Like probably and all...

Frenchi: And, I'm soooooo grateful that there are still people reading and reviewing BoLo stories! I mean, yeah, part of why I write these stories, is cause it just kind of cool to be able to write and read your own stories, but mostly, I just love sharing my love for Bo and Lo with others, so thanks, thanks, thanks! I know you live in France, so lots of love from Belgium. We know how you feel right now...

Mulder: I didn't exactly relate the phone conversation between Lauren and Tamsin cause Tamsin would have told Lauren pretty much what she told Dyson about finding the NASA letter, the blackouts, etc.

Guest: Xmas miracle? Uhm...can I push that deadline? -grin-

Sylvy: Oh that's just awesome! I woulda paid good money to watch you scream! :-) :-)

J: Yeah, I moved things about a little bit so that you'll read Lauren's perception of the day in the next chapter (probably). I swear, I like rewrote and rethought this chapter like a gazillion times!

Junet: I get that. I hate coming to the end of chapters too, and then I get annoyed with the writers making me wait for the rest of the story, haha!

Irechan: Welcome to reviewing! And, wow, you read FAST! Thanks for the enthusiasm! :-)

Guest: I did, I did! :)

J and JCM: Awe, thanks for checking up on meh, BIG hugs!