Chapter Four

It was a beautiful day outside, and Jaime had opened the windows when she'd gotten up that morning, so, even without bionic hearing, Steve was able to stand just around the front corner of his house, listening to every detail of the scene unfolding in his den. He stood ready to instantly intervene if things got out of hand, either verbally or...otherwise.

"Is that why you were crying?" Michael asked gently.

In his hiding spot, guilt washed over Steve like a flood. He didn't realize he'd made her cry, and the thought broke his heart. On the other hand, was he about to be a silent witness to his worst fears, come to life?

"Steve knows nothing would happen now; at least, I hope he does," Jaime said sadly. "I think what's bothering him is that he's not sure if..."

"If what?"

"If our past ever had a proper burial. If we truly let go, or just walked away from each other without dealing with the feelings involved."

Bingo! Steve thought.

"How do you feel about that, Jaime?"

"If it bothers my husband, it bothers me," she told him firmly. "If he's right and we didn't bury it all back then...we need to do it now."

"I would never try to come between you and Steve," Michael said slowly, "but there's something I've wondered all these years. When Steve came back into the picture, I stepped away because the two of you are so right together. But dammit, we were good together, too. There was something I wanted to tell you back then - needed to tell you - but I couldn't while you were my patient, and after that, you were gone, so I never got the chance. Ever since, I've always wondered if things might've turned out differently, if I'd just let you know that...I loved you, Jaime. If I'd told you that, would it have turned out differently with us?"

"Michael -" Jaime didn't want to hurt him, but she was sure that he already knew the answer, deep inside.

"Letting you go like that was the hardest thing I've ever done, and I still wish I'd have stayed in it longer, asked you not to leave me, and maybe everything would be different now," Michael said wistfully.

"Oh, Michael - I'm sor -," Jaime began.

Steve was on instant alert. Why had she cut off in the middle of a word? He had to know, and when he peered through the window, he felt near-homicidal anger. Michael had pulled Jaime way too close and was kissing her hard. Steve was about to storm into the house and do some serious, permanent damage to the doctor when he saw Jaime push him away.

"It would've been over anyway," Michael concluded sadly.

"Yeah."

"Jaime, I'm so sorry I just did that, but I had to know. And now that I do, I can let this whole thing go. I swear to you, it'll never happen again."

"It can't happen - ever again. I'll let this go, and we'll never bring it up again, for Hannah and Daniel's sake, but if you ever - ever - try that again, you won't have to worry about Steve finding out and hurting you. I will hurt you myself. Understand?"

"Absolutely. I'm truly sorry, and -"

"Michael? Not mentioning it again begins now." She got up and began heading for the door. Michael took the cue and walked with her as Steve darted back around the side of the house.

"Goodbye, Jaime," he said very softly as he turned away.

"Goodbye, Michael."

- - - - - -

Steve continued his walk a little while longer, figuring Jaime might need a little space to digest everything that had just happened. He wasn't sure if she'd tell him about it or not, but her words and actions with Michael had already told Steve everything he needed to know. A few hours later, when he did go home, Jaime was waiting for him at the door. She threw her arms around him and kissed him joyfully.

"I'm guessing you had a good day," he ventured.

"Definitely. Major stuff accomplished."

"You picked a band, then?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

"I don't know; the kids went by themselves today. Steve, Michael was here."

"Oh? More wedding stuff?"

"No. We had a lot of old junk that needed a decent burial." Jaime turned to fully face her husband, looking deeply and directly into his eyes. "Steve, he kissed me."

Steve raised one cock-eyed eyebrow. "You kiss him back?"

"No."

Placing a gentle arm around Jaime's waist, Steve pulled her close and smiled reassuringly. "Exorcising the old ghosts - you both needed that."

"He'll never try that again, either," she told him. "Under threat of becoming a permanent first soprano."

"Mrs. Austin, you are one of a kind."

"And don't you forget it," she said, finally smiling with him.

"Looked like a pretty good kiss," Steve said so subtly that she almost didn't catch it.

"Nah - it wasn't from you." Then it hit her. "Looked like?"

He grinned. "Have I told you today how very much I love you?"

"Looked like?"

Steve swept Jaime up into his arms and kissed her himself, with the kind of knowledge and passion that could only come after decades spent facing life - the good and the bad - hand in hand.

END