Brown eyed Girl 75: He really does try, he's a very good friend. And that freak out... I don't even remember writing it, it just popped into my head and BOOM, it was down on the paper. Vivianne will get a nice offer in this chapter, no worries. Thank you so much for the review, you have no idea how much I appreciate your friendship :)

ooOoo

All we losers, stand in line, just waiting for our time. Broken angel, take that plane and, finger paint the sky, till everything shines.

Everything Shines- Great Big Sea

ooOoo

I woke up the next morning curled up against the wall, my hair mussed and tangled from lying in an awkward position all night. My neck hurt from lying on the floor, and I could barely open my eyes from the matter that had accumulated overnight. Forcing myself into a sitting position, I felt a sudden, sharp pain in my hand.

"Ah shit!" I muttered, bringing my hand up to see what had happened. There was blood running down from my hand to my forearm. I could see shards of glass glistening in the light that was coming from the window, in fact some were still stuck to my palm.

Then I remembered. I'd chucked Gary's picture at the door and the glass in the picture frame had shattered.

I was still blurry eyed from waking up, but somehow I managed to find my way to the apartment down at the other end of the hall. I didn't even realize whose apartment it was till the door opened.

"Vivianne…" Craig rubbed an eye.

"Craig…" I muttered, almost in shock. "I… uh… I think I need Doc," I lifted my hand to show him the wound.

"Holy shit…" He grabbed my shoulder and pulled me inside. Sitting me down on the bed, he ran into the washroom and came back carrying a first aid kit.

"Alright, I'm just going to wipe a little of this blood off, and I'll wrap it at least until we get to the arena…" Gently, he pressed a piece of clean gauze damp with antiseptic to the wound and cleaned off some of the blood. Surprisingly, it didn't sting as much as I thought it would. In fact, the way he paid such close attention to my hand, and delicately examined the extent of the damage.

"You know, this isn't too bad, actually."

I nodded, absolutely fascinated with his lips. The way he spoke made me think of water; he was so fluid, but at times a little hesitant. The words he spoke just sounded garbled to me. I guess it was because I wasn't really focusing on what he was saying.

"Vivianne?"

"Huh?" I shook my head to find Craig still staring at me, his eyes full of concern.

"Doc will clean you up when we get there."

"Oh yeah…" I nodded. "Yeah, that's…" I took a deep breath. "That's great."

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be alright," I muttered.

With that, he offered to take me to the arena so Doc could have a look at my hand before the rest of the team got there. Once the team arrived, he told me, Doc was completely devoted to them and their needs.

"Aren't I part of the team?" I asked. Oh shit, that sounded juvenile, but I was still so tired I don't even know if I actually said that.

"Yes of course," he smiled at me. "But Herb works these kids so hard it's always touch and go with who might end up with what injury and such and such."

"Okay," I agreed, though I've got to admit it didn't make much sense to me at that point. Honestly, I was still reeling from the events last night. All I really remember is throwing the picture frame and it shattering, but why had I thrown it? What was I so upset about?

"Craig?" I asked, tentative of what the answer might be.

"Yeah?"

"What happened last night?"

He shook his head. "Not sure what you're talking about."

"There's glass on my floor and I don't even remember why it's there," I explained. "I would not have this cut on my hand if it weren't for that glass. What the hell did I do?"

He sighed. "We'll talk about that later…"

"Come on, Craig, there's no point in postponing it," I pushed.

"Viv, we need to get this looked at. Just drop it and we'll come right back to that, alright?"

"No, I need to know what the hell happened."

He just shook his head and motioned to tell me that he was going to find Doc. "Keep that arm elevated," he told me. When Doc appeared less than 10 minutes later, he smiled at me and asked what had happened.

"I don't know myself," I explained. "When I woke up this morning there was shattered glass and a broken picture frame on the floor, and I guess that's where the cut came from."

He nodded, taking sterilized tweezers and picking the glass out of my palm. There wasn't that much, he said, but it's good that we got it out sooner rather than later. The cut itself was clean, but the glass could've welcomed a thousand and one bacterium and caused an infection. Once the glass had been removed, he cleaned the cut with another douse of antiseptic and wrapped my hand in bandages.

"Thank you," I smiled as he left the room. Turning my attention back to Craig, I pleaded with him for some sort of answer.

"Tell you what," he started. "Once the team finishes up for the day… what would you say to, uh… joining me for dinner?"

I shook my head, hoping that, if fact, I had heard him correctly. "Pardon?"

He cleared his throat. "Would you like to join me for dinner?"

I smiled, fluttered at the sentiment. "Sure."

Before he left to go and tend to the team, who was just arriving by the sounds of it, I kissed his cheek.

ooOoo

I guess someone must have seen it happen, but I didn't hear anything about it until Jimmy pulled me aside when we got back to the apartments.

"Vivianne, I don't want to hurt your feelings but, are you sure it's a good idea?"

"What do you mean?"

"I saw you kiss Craig earlier," he told me.

"Uh huh… what's wrong with that?"

"It's just… he's the assistant coach…" Jim reasoned. "There's something in the Olympic code that forbids any romance between members of an Olympic team."

"But there's nothing to forbid the coaches…" I answered. "I mean, Herb and Doc are both married…"

"The Committee can't discriminate against a coach or candidate if they're married or otherwise, Vivianne," he agreed with me. "But you're my friend, I'm just worried about you."

"I appreciate it, Jimmy…" I hugged him before unlocking my door. "Look, I'm a big girl. I'll be alright."

"It seems that's all I hear you say, Viv. 'I'm alright', 'I'm alright', no one is that okay with everything that's happened. I'm going to ask you, once, Vivianne, and I'm only asking because you're my friend and I love you. Is everything okay?"

"Yes," she stressed the word to make a point. "Yes, everything is okay. If it doesn't work, it doesn't work, Jim. And if it doesn't, I shall just move on." I opened my door and smiled before he turned and went back down the stairs.

Turning to my mirror, I couldn't help but see the fact that, tough as I may be, I was still dirt poor, and I was exhausted. Who the hell would want anything to do with me?

Exhaling, I picked up the phone and dialled Marcie. Hopefully she would understand. I don't even know if I was ready for this… the only relationship I'd ever had was… well, none. Never had any time for it. I worked all the time, but so did Bane, and he and Marcie had had six kids by the time they were twenty-four and twenty-five. What was I afraid of? And did I have any reason to be afraid?

The phone rang a few more times before someone actually picked up.

"Hello?" That wasn't Marcie at all, it was one of the girls. Couldn't be Linda or Debbie, because they just went straight into talking… more like babbling but what can you do? I love them nonetheless.

"Abigail?" I asked.

"Hi Auntie Viv," the tone in her voice really picked up.

"Hey, is your mom home?"

"Yeah, she's just putting Charlie to sleep. She says he needs a nap…"

"Oh yeah?" she tried to feign amusement. "What do you think about having a little brother?"

"It's kinda weird. He has a pee-pee!" she giggled at the word, I guess Bane and Marcie didn't want the word 'penis' being circulated in the house just yet. So, of course, 'penis' is now regulated to the word 'pee-pee'. Okay, fine. My mother didn't really explain what sex was until I asked what a tampon was used for when I was ten.

"All boys have 'pee-pee's, Abby…" I couldn't help but chuckle. "Boys and girls are very different, and it's okay to ask if you're curious."

"But Mommy and Daddy don't want to talk about it much," she told me.

"Well, they're very busy with Charlie and your other sisters right now, sweetheart…" I tried. "When it's not so busy maybe you could try again?"

"But I don't want them to get mad at me…" Oh dear, poor thing. It's tough to be eight and not know much, even though she wants to know everything, and she's so smart… why shouldn't she want to know?

"They won't get mad at you, darling," I wanted so badly to hug her right then and there. Could it be that this was the first time she really would know what it was like to have a new sibling, since she probably couldn't remember any of her sisters coming into the family. Could it be she was a little jealous?

"But…"

"But…" I prompted.

"I miss you…"

Oh, that's what this was about.

"I miss you too, Abby," I confessed. It's true, I really did miss them. Bane and Marcie were practically the only friends I had when I was at home, and I was so lucky to have them there when we buried my brother. Bane and Gary were the best of friends as well, but still, Abby had trouble adapting to change, and to not have her Uncle Gary or her Auntie Viv to talk to and with a new baby brother… she probably really needed a friend.

"When will you be coming home?"

"In late February, darling," I told her.

"But that's a really long way away," she pouted.

"Abby, do not pout…" I couldn't scold her, but a firm instruction was really all she needed. "Look, you know the paper chains your mom does with you when you're waiting for Santa?"

"Uh huh…"

"Why don't you ask her to do one with you to count the days until I come home?"

"Okay…" she answered.

There was a knock at the door before I could say anything else.

"I have to go, Abby. I've got things to do."

"Okay, I love you, Auntie Viv. I'll say hi to Mommy for you."

"Thank you, bye bye."

I hung up the phone and went to get the door. Standing on the other side was none other than Craig Patrick.

"Hey there, are you ready?" he offered me his arm.

I smiled and shrugged at the fact that I was still wearing the same clothes from this morning. But he had changed from his hockey gear into a polo shirt and a pair of jeans. He looked… dare I say it… casual. Far more than I had ever seen him before.

"Lead the way, Mr. Patrick…" I smirked.