A.N.: Thank you for all the love! I really appreciate the reviews!

Falling

03

Humiliations Galore

"Katarina Baker!" How she'd gotten through her morning-shifts without getting third-degree coffee burns or falling asleep as she changed the sheets, she didn't know. She guessed it had something to do with being twenty-one, and utterly used to overworking herself to the point of absolute mental exhaustion. Her fellow Lodge staff had been kind, and not drawn all over her face with Sharpie while she napped in the staff-room: Marcus had pencilled her in for the dinner shift, when the work was harder but the hours flew by faster and the tips were way better.

It figured the Davis family would appear now: As if Mr Davis could smell blood in the water. Waiting to pounce on her exhaustion. She wished she could claim it was all about her; they had a long-standing tradition of coming to Jimmy's to eat family-dinner once every week. Justin lived at the Lodge in one of his father's suites, and it was the one place he couldn't avoid the rest of his family. So, a weekly dinner with the family, and Kat usually ended up waiting on them. The tips were great. But she knew she looked like ass, after the night she'd had: it rankled that Justin would see her this strung-out while he looked relaxed and unflappable as always, his sandy blonde hair tousled just-so, watching her every move with lambent eyes as she hitched a smile into place and strode for the Davis' favourite table, ice-water and iPad Mini at the ready to take orders - they'd digitised the system last year. It wasn't that she disliked Mr Davis personally - she remembered him from her childhood, more fun and open than the obnoxious businessman he now was, too accustomed to his own success to remember little things like humility, courtesy.

If she had to put her finger on it, she'd put James Davis' arrogance down to a defence mechanism, warding the world away to avoid the pain of loss: His wife, Justin's mother, had been a legit angel on earth. And she was gone. People looked at the new Mrs Davis and saw a trophy-wife: Kat knew Mandy Davis to be a force of nature, and a kind, stern, take-no-bullshit woman Kat respected, even admired. Through tutoring Reid, Kat had learned a lot from Mrs Davis just through observation.

"We heard you were working today. How are you doin', sweetheart?" Mr Davis asked, his personality filling the room. Justin sprawled in his seat beside his father, watching Kat closely, taking in the long line of her apron, hazel eyes shielded by lashes glowing golden in the candlelight. She remembered how pretty they were up close.

And was annoyed she remembered that; also, that he didn't even bother to hide that he was checking her out.

"I'm good, Mr Davis, thank you," Kat smiled, tucking the 'Reserved' plaque into her apron pocket and pouring water into Mrs Davis' glass seamlessly. "How are you, sir?"

"Oh, I'm good, honey -"

"Why do you always call him 'sir'?" Reid asked.

"Yeah, it's just Dad," Drew smiled contentedly.

"She's being respectful son," Mr Davis said. "You'd all be wise to learn from her example." He shot Justin a speaking glance; his eldest son rolled his eyes, fiddling with his knife.

"Kat, hey, Kat! Kat! Check this out!" Aside from the braces glinting in the golden restaurant lighting, there was little to distinguish Reid Davis from his identical twin-brother Drew - nothing visible; it was their IQs that set them apart. They were both sweet dumbasses but Reid especially was not academically-inclined: They were decent kids, though, straightforward and kind-natured, and their antics made Kat smile.

"Hi, Reid," she said patiently, smiling warmly, filling Drew's glass before sidling up beside Reid, who was smoothing out a crumpled piece of paper on the tablecloth. "What've you got there?" Reid grinned as he handed Kat the paper. Scanning it, she realised, "You got a B-minus! What?!" Her jaw dropped, and she beamed as Reid grinned at her excitedly.

"I think he got Drew here to switch with him to take the test," Mr Davis teased, watching his twin-boys with a patient smile.

"Nuh-uh, they'd know if we switched," Reid said, grimacing widely so they could all see his braces. Kat chuckled, grinning, and scanned the test, a thrill of delight coursing through her, giving her a hit of much-needed adrenaline to get her through her shift. A B-minus! God knew how hard she and Reid had worked to get him there. "See, you said I could do it!"

"I did, didn't I?" she smiled. She noted the few problems he'd hadn't completed, the ones he hadn't tried, and the ones he'd been given points for showing his method even though the answer was wrong. "Keep a hold of this and we'll go through it during our next session, okay?"

"Pass it here, honey; I'll keep it safe in my purse. Or it'll end up shredded in your hockey-bag just like your History essay," Mrs Davis said, flicking her elegant fingers at her stepson.

"Okay. But check it out - look at these ones. These questions, I remembered how to do 'em 'cause they're the ones you had me talk through and explain to Eddie. I remembered!" Reid grinned, proud of himself, and Kat saw Mrs Davis' indulgent, proud smile as she rested her delicately-pointed chin on her folded hands, the skating-rink diamond on her finger sparkling in the candlelight.

"That's amazing, Reid," she smiled proudly, turning to fill Mr Davis' water-glass as Drew stole Reid's test and passed it to his stepmother. "That means you're still eligible to play, right? So are you here celebrating tonight?"

"Absolutely," Mr Davis smiled.

"I will have a strawberry daiquiri, with a lot of rum," Reid grinned.

"I will work my magic and see if I can twist Marcus' arm into making you a cherry Coke," Kat smirked, and Reid's face fell.

"Aw. Oh - hey, I like those!" he grinned, and Kat laughed, shaking her head as Drew rolled his eyes.

"Drew, one for you?"

"A rootbeer, please, Kat," he said politely.

"You got it. Justin? You want your usual? Or we've got the new craft IPAs on draft now," Kat said, filling his glass. Justin tweaked an eyebrow interestedly, pulling a thoughtful face.

"I'll just have my usual," he sighed.

"Two fingers of whiskey and a beer to chase it down," Kat said, and he winked.

"I think I'll join him," Mr Davis said. "You know, I heard tell my bar staff enjoyed taste-testing those IPAs for consideration on the bar menu." Kat grinned.

"It was a very good night, Mr Davis, thank you," Kat said earnestly. A few weeks ago, Mr Davis had closed Jimmy's for the night - and still paid them for their shifts - to bring in a team of people who trained them in cocktail-making and wine-pairing. They'd also taste-tested the craft IPAs Mr Davis had been approached about stocking Jimmy's bar with by the brewer. All of the restaurant and bar staff, even the people who never came out of the kitchen, were invited to the event, treated to a three-course surf-and-turf dinner and training in a relaxed, social environment. The bar-staff had shortlisted the cocktails for the new winter specials menu, approved the IPAs, and the kitchen staff had written the winter menu to pair beautifully with the new South African wines they had started stocking - the Davises had gone to South Africa last year on vacation touring vineyards, leaving the twins in the shared custody of the less-than-enthusiastic Justin, and Kat, who had babysat the boys since she was sixteen, and who had served as de facto housekeeper, cook, tutor and Responsible Adult for the twins while the Davis' staff enjoyed their own vacation time. "It's…nice to be appreciated, and involved, you know? We take a lot more pride in the restaurant knowing we had something to do with writing the menus."

"Well, I wish I could say it was my idea; stuff like that's all Mandy," Mr Davis beamed, gazing fondly at his wife. "She's brilliant."

"Well, thank you to both of you. I think we really benefited from the team-building," Kat said, who knew Mrs Davis had been behind the whole event; she had approached Kat about the idea while she had a tutor-session with Reid. Mandy was a people-person: She was beloved. She was the balm to the wounds Mr Davis often inflicted.

"And the bar's benefitin' from this new cocktail menu - look at this! They all sound delicious! Was the cocktail-making class fun?" Mrs Davis asked, examining the newly-printed menus, illustrated by some 'food-artist' from Boise. Whatever that was.

"A little too much," Kat admitted, and Mrs Davis giggled prettily.

"Well, it can only help; we've had nothing but positive feedback from the concierge about how guests are liking the restaurant," Mr Davis said. "Speaking of that, Kat: Are you planning on leaving?"

Kat jumped, flustered, instantly on her guard - did he know something she didn't about the staffing? She'd been an employee since she starting on the pot-wash in the kitchens at sixteen, moving on to housekeeping and waitressing at eighteen and only just last season promoted up to bar staff when she became legal. "Excuse me? Uh - no; I'm very grateful for my job, sir. I have a great manager at the moment," Kat stammered, caught off-guard.

"Dad," Justin warned, shooting his father a careful look as Mrs Davis fidgeted uncomfortably at the other end of the table.

"Huh. 'Cause I heard you're gonna be my son's new skating partner," Mr Davis said, ignoring his son and leaning back in his chair to watch Kat. Kat blinked, hiding a sigh of relief that she wasn't being laid off by the boss without any kind of indication by Marcus that there was any issue.

"Well, I'd like to know where you heard that rumour," Kat said, smiling politely as she straightened her shoulders, regaining her bearings. He had rattled her. But she had worked in customer-service too long to let customers fluster her: Dealing with domineering assholes while maintaining her poise was one reason she was consistently tipped so well. People often ended up leaving any confrontation they picked with her feeling like the assholes they truly were, and tipped her apologetically.

Dealing with Carol had taught her a great many life-skills.

"Well, I heard it from Dasha. I trust her instincts about this pair-skating stuff," Mr Davis said nonchalantly, brushing off his son's passion and dedication to the sport with evident disdain - disdain that came from ignorance, a lack of understanding or appreciation. There was artistry in skating; Mr Davis thought hockey was the only ice-related sport worth getting riled up about - Kat knew, because he postponed her tutoring sessions with Reid if an NHL game was on that day. Mr Davis didn't appreciate the enigma that was his eldest son. "Listen, I understand money's a little tight right now-" Kat glanced sharply at Justin, who cringed and caught her eye with a grimace of shame, "-so I'd like to help you out with that. Just think, instead of taking drink-orders from my guests, I'd be payin' you to do something you love… Either way, the money's coming from the same place."

The smile slipped from her face as heat flooded her, staining her skin; she could feel the flush of humiliation spreading from her chest to her face, her heartbeat rising as adrenaline crashed through her veins. She clenched her jaw, biting back her immediate response, focusing on Justin as he cringed. Compared to his father, Justin seemed like a sensitive guy. Intuitive, almost. Her hands shook as she raised her iPad Mini, tapping the touchscreen to start keying in their orders.

"Thank you, that's um… Thank you, sir," Kat said, finding it difficult to speak around the humiliation and rage blurring her thoughts, aware of every pair of eyes on her, as the twins fidgeted, and Justin raised a hand to his brow, wincing. "That's certainly something to think about." Justin caught her eye, trying to convey too much in a single glance, as his father grinned.

"Let's give Kat some time to think, maybe?" Mrs Davis smiled sweetly, giving her husband a look.

"Okay, okay," he smiled generously, raising his hands in defeat - and completely ignored both his wife's subtle warning and Kat's body-language, which had to be screaming FUCK OFF even with her smile hitched back in place. "Listen, I'm not trying to strong-arm you, it's just…you know, when my late wife first got Justin into figure-skating, I was a little worried he might turn into some kind of a fruitcake." Kat felt her body locking up, and her eyes lanced to Justin, who was squirming in horror and humiliation - at his dad's blatant disregard for anyone else's feelings, for bringing up Justin's dead mom as emotional leverage, and for his use of the derogatory phrase 'fruitcake' to describe some of the most disciplined, most talented athletes in the world, of which Justin was one. The twins smirked at each other. "But - you know, she saw something in him, and, turns out, she was right - my boy has an Olympic-size talent. Now, it's a real shame about Natalie, but I think it's past time we all acknowledge Justin needs a partner who can match that… Think it over."

"Oh, I certainly will," Kat smiled, shooting daggers at Justin as his father clapped a hand on his shoulder, grinning easily: Only Justin seemed to understand the threat underlying her syrupy tone, watching her cautiously.

"Beautiful!" Mr Davis laughed brashly, clapping his hand together triumphantly. "You know what, we should celebrate - Reid passed his test, and Justin's found himself a partner worthy of his talent! Let's have some champagne - why don't you bring us over a bottle of Mandy's favourite?"

"Of course," Kat smiled. "Before I go, can I order you any starters or do you need a couple minutes?"

"Let's just get a basket of those warm dinner-rolls with the herb butter," Mrs Davis smiled. "I think we'd all enjoy that."

"Sure," Kat said, forcing a smile. "I'll give you a few minutes to consider your dinner order. Today's dessert soufflé is roasted peach, served with amaretto caramel and homemade vanilla bean gelato. I have to get the order in with your entrées so the kitchen can prepare it, so just let me know if you'd like it."

"Ooh. Sounds good!" said Southern belle Mrs Davis. "They're really pulling out the stops with these seasonal soufflés."

"It's a signature dish," Kat smiled. "We've had people coming all the way from Boise for the soufflé, they've heard such good things about Jimmy's as a destination restaurant. I'll give you guys a few minutes to decide." She caught Justin's eye, giving him the dangerous, no-nonsense look she usually reserved for Carol. "Justin, you and I will talk later."

Justin shrank in his chair.

As she walked away, she heard Reid coo delightedly, "You're in big trouble."

"Dude, you got The McGonagall," Drew grimaced, and Kat retreated to the bar. Marcus saw her coming, already grimacing - either at the look on her face, or the fact that her face could probably cook the Tomahawk ribeye Mr Davis would inevitably order - not forgetting the horseradish crust, and sides of mashed potatoes and grilled asparagus.

"Uh-oh. Murder-face. Who're we puttin' the hit out on?" Marcus asked, already busy preparing the Davis' drinks order. Kat inhaled slowly, deeply; she counted to ten slowly, trying not to listen to the rush of blood pounding past her ears. Her hands wouldn't stop shaking.

I understand money's a little tight right now… Justin had told his father. As if that was the only reason a girl like Kat could have to refuse to skate with Justin - as if she could be bought. As if…as if her tutoring his son, and working in his hotel…gave him the right to treat her…like she was nothing more than the staff. Like he hadn't known her since she was a baby; as if she and her sister hadn't shared bubble-baths with Justin and his brothers when they were babies and his mom was still alive to babysit them.

Kat had learned a lot from working at the restaurant: She believed that how people treated the staff revealed who they truly were.

She was exhausted, and last night had hit her hard: Just now had hit her harder - the humiliation of being treated…like she was nothing… Her entire body felt like there was too much inside it to contain; too much energy, too much anger and humiliation and hurt… Did he imagine… He had no idea what her life was like, why her finances were stretched to the limit, why she slept in her car rather than go home, why she knew she was lucky to work at the Lodge and to take drinks orders from his guests.

Her eyes burned and she knew she was in danger of spontaneously combusting into tears. She was fucking exhausted. And all she wanted to do right now was wait for the earth to open up at her feet and swallow her. Except, she couldn't let that happen - couldn't let anyone else take her hard-earned tips.

"It's, um - it's nothing - I'm just… I just need to go grab a glass of water and, um, go out back and - scream," Kat sniffed, half-joking, as she press the heel of her hand to her eyes to stop them burning, her hands still shaking.

"Go take a minute. And after our shift you're coming over to mine, and you're gonna tell me what the hell is going on over a beer."

"Sure. I may fall asleep in my beer," she warned.

"Fine, happy to have you drooling and snoring on my couch if it means I won't find you in the lot in the morning, sleeping in your car," Marcus said sternly: He had offered her couch-space several times before now, but he four roommates with vibrant social-lives and it wasn't fair to them. Something moved in her periphery, making the fine hairs on the back of her neck prickle - she jumped out of her skin as someone touched her back.

"Jesus!"

"Justin," he corrected, with his signature smirk, leaning casually against the bar with one hand resting low on her waist, a finger hooked casually through the ties of her apron.

"Justin," she snapped, glaring at him, and hissed through gritted teeth, "Hand. Waist. Off. Now."

"Okay..." He smiled charmingly, raising his hands innocently, though she instantly missed the weight against her lower-back, and had to forcibly ignore the shiver that stole through her, refusing to focus on what her body was telling her. "Listen, I -"

"I'm just about to come back with your drinks," Kat said gently, not meeting his eye, aware she was flushed and probably sweaty, her eye makeup likely smeared. "Did you want to change your drinks order?"

"Uh…" Justin gazed at her, reading her face, and whatever he was about to say died on his lips. "You know what, yeah - you mentioned the new craft IPAs. Figured I'd at least sample them before I go with my regular. Might even find a new favourite." His eyes were warm and contented as he gazed at her; Kat didn't read too much into the look on his face, his nearness - he was all but pressed against her, in spite of the open five feet of bar beside him.

"Sure," Kat smiled, but it was strained, and again she didn't meet his eye. "Marcus will look after you. Excuse me a moment." Taking a long, slow breath, she stole an ice-cube and shoved it in her mouth, focusing on nothing but the melting as she strode into the kitchen, tucked herself in a corner, and just breathed, settling herself down, letting her body calm down as she emptied her mind, counting backwards. It had been a while since any of the guests had gotten under her skin so quickly, so badly: She had developed strategies to handle asshole diners, diffusing most nasty situations before they could come to a head and get management involved.

But Mr Davis was the boss. She had to take it. Smile sweetly and say thank you as he humiliated her.

As soon as the ice-cube had melted, she took a deep breath, checked her makeup and pasted a smile on her face before heading back out into the restaurant: Marcus had her drinks orders ready for two of her tables, and she was kept so busy over the next couple hours that she could focus only on the adrenaline keeping her upright.

She was nearly knocked on her ass, though, stunned, when she opened Mr Davis' leather check sleeve - his bill signed to his open tab, settled every month - and a hefty wedge of bills fluttered onto the bar. Her tip. Mrs Davis was famous for religiously tipping at least twenty percent: And they'd had a thousand-dollar bottle of champagne tonight, let alone their five steak dinners with all the sides, plus desserts and top-shelf Scotch for Justin and his dad…

Had it been any other night, Kat would've taken the cash and been on a giddy high the rest of the week; the Lodge hosted the rich and fabulous every season and a well-stocked bar meant very generous tips from people who thought nothing of throwing their money away. She didn't always wait on the Davis': But every time she did, she earned more in tips from them in a night than she sometimes did the rest of the week.

But tonight, Mr Davis had humiliated her: She couldn't help wonder if it was either Justin's or Mrs Davis' way of apologising for Mr Davis' behaviour toward her earlier, the hefty tip. To them, it was nothing, barely touching Justin's average spend on a night at the club: To her, it was…

Well, she didn't know whether to be grateful or insulted further, that someone had thought her wounded feelings could be healed by cash. A lot of it - but…still…

She caught Mrs Davis coming back from the powder-room. Kat had always admired how elegant the younger Mrs Davis was, always put together with her curls shining with health, her makeup natural-looking and minimal, wearing soft nudes, blush-pinks and camel colours, gold hoops glinting at her ears. She also appreciated that in spite of appearances, Mrs Davis was no trophy-wife, nor was she anyone's fool - and she was definitely not a kept-woman: Mrs Davis was a force to be reckoned with and only a woman like her could put up with a man like her husband.

"Mrs Davis?" Kat said, wishing she didn't blush so fiercely when she was under pressure, as she approached the older woman with her glinting blonde hair and perfect smile. Kat offered her the wedge of cash she had found tucked into the wallet. "I can't accept this."

Mrs Davis' hesitant expression melted into a warm smile. "Sure you can, honey." Kat flushed.

"It's too much, I can't take it," Kat pressed, not quite meeting Mrs Davis' eye. Getting paid weekly to tutor Reid was one thing; this was quite another.

"Think we have family-dinner here every week and don't pay attention to what's going on?" Mrs Davis said, giving her a knowing smile. "You more'n earned that tonight, I saw. Practically running the restaurant yourself, I saw you intervene with that other waitress. Defused the whole situation before it could turn ugly and ruin everyone's night."

"I mean - but - but it cost the restaurant," Kat stammered. With Marcus running interference with an inebriated, entitled customer at the bar who habitually made a mess, Kat had had to take initiative and intervene with Caitlyn's table on his behalf, writing off the customers' entire meal because of the wait and the mix-ups with their entrées, and offering their next meal on the house with a bottle of champagne in apology for the poor service they had received. Kat had long ago lost patience with Caitlyn, as had most of the other staff: Instead of thanking Kat for getting involved to defuse the situation, she would blame Kat for a loss of tips.

"One bad review can sink a business," Mrs Davis said sagely. "You made those guests feel like they were heard, and you made sure they'd come back and experience the restaurant at its best. It may be they remember you when they consider where to vacation next season. That's worth their steak dinner…it's worth that tip you earned…"

"It's still too mu-"

"Darlin', I'm not taking a cent of that money back!" Mrs Davis warned sternly, her eyes glinting. "In fact, every time you protest I'll add another fifty bucks to your next tip." Kat's lips parted, her cheeks flushing, but she held her tongue, stunned. Mrs Davis giggled softly. Her face softened, and she became sombre. "More'n that, sweetheart, I'd like to apologise for my husband." Kat caught Mrs Davis' eye, flushing again. "He put you on the spot and I saw your face…you would've been within your rights to take a swing at him."

"It's - um - I don't…"

"It's okay, sweetheart, I live with the man, I'd've killed him by now if I didn't love him so much!" Mrs Davis smiled. She winced. "He embarrassed you, and he was unprofessional in ambushin' you about skatin' with Justin while you were working, unprepared for any kind of conversation."

Kat nodded slowly. It was funny that Mrs Davis had tipped her so well for being succinct and making their guests feel heard, valued, that their feelings were understood, appreciated, and someone wanted to help: Mrs Davis…was doing the same thing with her. Making sure she understood that someone had seen, and empathised. Quietly, she said, "Thank you."

Mrs Davis smiled. "You've known the family long enough to know Justin is a god-damn pain in the ass, and I would wish him on no woman!" she declared, making Kat smirk. Mrs Davis sighed. "I also know that he is the real deal. That boy has a gift - and from what I hear, you do, too." Kat raised her eyebrows questioningly. Mrs Davis smiled confidentially. "Justin…all he's wanted for years is to pair with a girl who skates like you. I've been watching you for years every time you share the ice with Justin: I don't have to be an expert like Dasha to know you have something extraordinary. Your creativity, your expression…watching you skate is everything Justin loves about the sport… My husband's a hard sell…but if you and Justin do decide you want to skate together, just know…you've got an ally in me, even if Justin would rather I wasn't."

Kat gazed at her, flushing, and nodded. "Thank you."

Mrs Davis smiled. "Alright…I'd better get back in there before James starts to wonder what's taking me so long in the powder-room."

"They're talking hockey-stats," Kat smiled, and Mrs Davis rolled her eyes, "You're good for a while yet before they notice you're gone."

Mrs Davis laughed softly, gazing fondly at her family, the three sons she had inherited through tragedy. Justin had been fourteen, the twins barely six when their mother was killed by a drunk-driver: Mandy had taken on a widower with three young sons, one of whom wasn't the easiest to love at the best of times, Kat imagined - Justin remembered his mother, and the hole she had left behind; his brothers didn't - and Kat knew that upset Justin more than almost anything. Kat admired Mrs Davis, feminine and canny and strong.

"You have a good night, Kat," Mrs Davis smiled.

"Thank you. You too," she said politely, the wedge of money still burning her palm; but at least she no longer felt like she was burning with shame. So the Davises had noticed her resolve the issue with Caitlyn: It was for that she had earned her tips.

She couldn't help wonder if maybe she had shown management material tonight, without even thinking about the implications. She had acted on instinct, after spending years watching people she respected do the same thing… Maybe…

Kat couldn't keep skating: She also couldn't keep sleeping in her car the rest of her life. A majority of the staff at the Lodge were seasonal: Like Marcus, a lot of people arrived just before the snows to work so they could hit the slopes on their days off. But the Lodge also needed permanent staff to keep the place running at the high standards Mr and Mrs Davis expected of their luxury destination hotel, in spite of high seasonal staff turnover. Maybe Kat wouldn't be an Olympic skater: But why couldn't she be proud to work toward a management position at a reputable resort like Pinecrest Lodge?

And Mrs Davis had noticed her tonight - not just for her husband humiliating Kat, but because of how Kat's professionalism. And she knew she would get a reference from Marcus…

"Hey," Marcus said tentatively, when she'd caught up with him in the staffroom, punching their time-cards, and Kat glanced up at him through her lashes, on her guard. She wasn't stupid: She knew Marcus had a thing for her, he'd asked her out before. As great a guy as Marcus was…she liked the degree of separation: She didn't want to draw him into her world, all too content to have a wonderful friend. He was too decent a person to drag through the mud as she slogged after Carol, stumbling half-blind while she struggled to carry Serena on her back.

"Uh-oh."

"No 'uh-oh'… I'm not gonna ask you to take on someone else's shift again, not this week - you've officially done too much overtime, it'd actually be illegal for me to let you put your apron back on," Marcus said, and Kat smiled. "The guys are goin' night-skiing. Asked me to join 'em."

"That's like the tenth time this month!" Kat said wonderingly. She had heard Marcus was an insane skier - not that she knew the slightest thing about the sport beyond Jenn practicing her spiel about new equipment at her dad's store - and the local team seemed to be keeping a sharp eye on Marcus' talent. "I'd hope they're not just flirting: Are they ever gonna ask you to go steady?"

"Maybe," Marcus shrugged unconcernedly, a twinkle in his eye, amused by her turn-of-phrase. "Look, I put up with these rich-ass people to pay for my ski-passes. Keep things simple. Whatever you're doing seems complicated."

"Less complicated since approximately three o'clock this morning. Our beer can wait," Kat smiled, feeling a pang in her chest, the first time she had thought about Dave since slipping out of his dorm, their breakup nothing but a hazy memory buried beneath sleep-deprivation. "We all need to keep doing the things that keep us sane, right? What's it all for, otherwise?"

"Damned if I know," Marcus smiled genially. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, just… Yeah, it's fine," Kat smiled reassuringly. "Suffice it to say the situation has been defused…"

"Speaking of…saw you saving Caitlyn's ass again," Marcus said. "Free meal tonight and tomorrow, and a bottle of champagne?"

"I know it wasn't my place to make the decision but -"

"No, you made the right call. Manager's job's to make sure the place runs itself when I leave, right?" Marcus said, and Kat shrugged noncommittally.

"Speaking of that…could we talk…about…training?" Kat asked tentatively, and Marcus raised his eyebrows. There was no harm in asking, after all. Even if it wasn't the right time, she could sow the seeds: Get things lined up. It couldn't hurt to…to have her options open.

"I mean…sure," he said slowly, gazing at her bemusedly.

"I'll see you tomorrow?"

"You know it," Marcus smiled, and they parted ways.

"Don't get caught in an avalanche," Kat warned, as Marcus grinned, shaking his head, as he walked backward away from her, still smiling, and reminding her too much of Justin the other day, after Natalie's fall. Her smile became uncomfortable, reminded that Marcus wanted more from her than she wanted to give, but was too decent to act on what he wanted - he was a good friend. She needed a good friend - someone who had nothing to do with skating.

Trying to leave skating was like…trying to leave a gang. She needed allies on the outside to help her do it.

A.N.: So…Kat exhibited great mental maths skills in the series - I like to imagine she's very clever, but she was let down by her home-schooling, by Carol's single-minded focus on skating.