Friday night traffic in DC was heavy, and she didn't want to distract him from the road, so there was silence in the car for most of the ride back. It was comfortable, though, something she hadn't thought she'd ever feel with Myles. After she picked up Levi, the Golden settled in the back seat and slept the rest of the way to her apartment.

Once the car was in "park," though, he switched on the overhead light and turned to her. "May I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Has Jack ever spent an evening with you like this one?"

Her brows went up, and her heart skipped. "Wh— why would you ask something like that?"

"Sue." He gave her his best you're-joking-right look. "I may have been deaf for the last several hours, but I'm not blind. Has he ever really taken a look at your world, from your viewpoint?"

She felt her face grow warm, and suddenly wished the car was dark again. "N-no. But then, no one has."

Now his brows shot up. "You're joking."

She shook her head. "No, I'm not. Didn't you wonder why I was so surprised when you asked about this? Not one hearing person, my entire life, has ever voluntarily walked as far into my world as they possibly could. Except you."

He turned from her for a moment, stunned, leaning his hands on the steering wheel and staring out at the street lights. Then he let out a short breath and glanced at her again. "Who'd have thought, huh?"

"Go figure," she smiled.

"Well," he said, "I should let you get home before Lucy sends out the Marines. May I walk you to your door, at least? My grandmother will haunt me tonight if I don't." He shook his finger at an imaginary person in front of him. "'Always a gentleman, Myles. Never let her walk to her door alone.'"

Sue laughed. "We can't have you falling asleep at your desk tomorrow because you were haunted all night, can we? Yes, that would be very nice."

At the top of the stairs, he paused and caught her hand slightly. "I think I'll say good-night here," he said when she turned. "Lucy is no doubt hovering by the door, and I don't want you to get yelled at for the rest of the evening."

She smiled again. "Still afraid you're going to get shot?"

"There's a good reason rotors aren't issued firearms," he quipped. "But I know she'll give you an ear— uh, eyeful, so… good night." He turned to go, but Sue's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"We never really got a chance to talk about your experience, and I know you really wanted to. Hold on a second." She pulled out her Blackberry, typed a brief text message, and then dialed Lucy's cell number. A few minutes later, a reply came.

"It's ok. She's not home, and says she forgot to tell me she was going to stay at her grandmother's house tonight." She looked up at him and grinned mischievously. "So the coast is clear. You still want to talk?"

He glanced at his watch. "It's already eleven. We may be awhile."

"You want to try to set up another time and keep the rest from finding out?" She grinned. "You're braver than I thought."

Good point," he chuckled. "All right, if it's ok with you, lead on."

"Myles, you're not going to make me keep these heels on in my own house, are you?" Sue motioned to the sofa. "Come in and relax, please."

He looked puzzled. "I thought there'd be more light in the kitchen for you to lip-read."

She laughed. "My house. I can have as many lights in the living room as I need." She walked over to the sofa area and switched on several lamps. "See?"

I SEE. His grin brightened the room further. "By all means, then, kick off your shoes." He pulled off his tuxedo jacket and laid it neatly over the back of the sofa before he sat down, then untied his bow tie and rolled it up neatly before putting in the breast pocket of the jacket.

Sue couldn't resist. "You iron your socks, too, don't you?"

He wrinkled his nose at her. "Did you invite me in to talk, or just so you could abuse me in private?"

She laughed and sat down at the other end of the sofa, undoing the buckles on her shoes and tucking her feet up under her, glad she hadn't worn the straight skirt. She leaned back against the large pillow tucked behind her. "You really surprised me tonight, Myles. I wasn't expecting you to…"

"…last more than five minutes?" he ventured.

"That's not—" She smiled as he gave her a piercing glance. "Ok, so maybe that was part of it. But what I was going to say was that I never expected you to find the experience… positive, I guess?"

"You mean, you didn't think I was really serious about wanting to experience the arts from your standpoint." He held up a hand as she started to protest. "It's ok. I was a bit surprised myself that it wasn't the music experience that I found to be the most enlightening part of the evening."

"What was?"

He folded his hands together and leaned forward a little, resting one arm on the back of the sofa. "Two things, actually. One was the initial shock of walking into that busy lobby and not hearing the cacophony I was used to."

"What was that? Ca-cow…what?"

"Oh. Cacophony. A mix of noises… a racket." She nodded, and he continued. "But then I realized that the visual jumble was really no different than the audible one; I was merely more accustomed to the audible one. It still had its own sense of the excitement and 'pomp' of the event."

"You looked a little shaken at the time," she recalled.

"I was," he admitted. "It was almost dizzying. That was why I took the ear molds out."

"And you thought I wouldn't understand that? It happens to me a lot, especially in a new environment when there's a lot of activity going on." She pulled her feet around in front of her, leaning her arms on her knees for a moment. "What was the other?"

"My little conversation with the security guard," he replied. "How, and please understand that I am paying you a compliment, can you put up with people like that, day in and day out, and not scream?"

"You never told me about that," she said. "You were going to, but we got sidetracked at the restaurant. All you told me was that you'd been 'antagonizing a hearie' while I was talking with Evelyn."

"Oh, that's right." He took a few minutes to relate the incident to her. When he finished, she was shaking her head and smiling. "What?"

"I'm impressed," she said. "You handled that better than some people I know who've been deaf all their lives."

"I see now what you mean about having to adapt, instead of having others adapt to you." He laughed slightly. "And, putting up with it your whole life, not punching me out the first chance you got…" He trailed off, and his eyes went solemn. "How can you stay so…you? In the face of all that?"

Sue was quiet for a moment before answering. "I can't say it's been easy, and it's a lot of hard work, but you do eventually learn that getting upset doesn't help the situation." She laughed. "Take you for example, when we first met. I'm sure everyone thought I had as big a problem with you as you did with me. But if I'd lashed back at you, where would we be now? I don't think Mr. Eldridge would have let me stay with the team."

"And more people's lives than I care to count would be dramatically different right now."

"Including mine." His gaze snapped up to her, and she smiled. "I've learned a lot in the past two years, Myles, from all of you. I'd have missed out on that, too."

He nodded, and was silent for a moment. He seemed lost in thought.

She took a chance; he'd laid himself open to her tonight, mostly by choice, and he needed to hear what she needed to say. "You know, most people aren't like that; they're just fascinated with how I know what they're saying when I can't hear. Unfortunately, that sometimes makes me feel like less of an actual person than with the ones who just lay it out straight."

"Ah," he replied. "The 'side-show freak' factor." He caught himself and started to sign SORRY, but she held out a hand to stop him.

"Freak is a good way to put it. It's okay." She watched him nod, then looked at him and smiled. "But you know what's the best?"

"There is a best to being treated that way?"

She nodded, and took the chance a step further by holding out her hand to him across the back of the couch. "When someone who starts out looking at me as if I'm broken, like you did, comes to the realization that I'm not, and helps me feel that I'm not. It makes all the rest bearable, just knowing that maybe there is light at the end of a dark world."

He took her hand and squeezed it just slightly, then dropped it again quickly, as if he were afraid of sharing too much at once. "I'm just sorry I couldn't do more tonight for you," he said, changing the subject. "That one piece… I really wanted to help you experience the solo on it, and I realized when you asked me if the music was happy or sad that I'd never really be able to tell you. How do you describe a clarinet to someone who has never heard any similar instrument?"

"What you did told me a lot, Myles," she replied. "I got the basic movement of the melody, and you described the flavor of the song very well. Just because I can never figure out exactly what it sounds like doesn't mean you haven't added to what I can experience."

"Still…" He trailed off, his attention suddenly focused over her shoulder. A spark in his blue-grey eyes told her something had triggered an idea. "Let me ask you something. Your loss is high-frequency, and sits at about 110 decibels in your better ear, right?"

"Yes."

"What if you were right next to the piano, near the lower notes, and someone were playing a simple melody. Could you pick it up at all?"

Sue glanced over her shoulder, and realized what he was thinking. "I… I've never tried it. I'd probably need to have my ear pressed right against the piano, so I could feel it as well. And you'd have to bang on the keys pretty hard, I'd think."

He glanced at his watch again. "Any of your immediate neighbors go to bed early on Friday night?"

"You're serious." Her dark eyes were wide.

"Yes, I'm serious. I don't know why this is so important to me, but it is." He stood up and held his hand out to her. "Come on; can't hurt to try it."

The excitement growing in him was contagious; she couldn't help but smile at him. "Okay." She let him help her to her feet and lead her over to the piano.