It's Labor day here in the States. That means lots of traffic, lots of barbecues, and lots of students either dreading the first day of school or the work already due. This is a little bonus for everybody. Especially my fellow students. Mostly, I couldn't wait to move the story forward and get you all to stop hating Rachel. You'll understand her soon enough. Thanks to all my reviewers. Diva in the House, I'm totally stealing that "seriously sexy adventures" line.

Rachel was curled in bed staring at the ceiling. As the day's light began to dwindle it was becoming harder to see. It was much too early for her to be in bed, but she had scarcely moved from her spot all day. She pulled the covers over her head as her answering machine chimed with an incoming message. "Rach, it's me. Pick up the phone," a man's voice called. "Your assistant told me you took time off, so I know you're home. You can't dodge me forever."

Rachel groaned and curled into a ball. After a few moments, her phone began ringing again, this time accompanied with the harsh sound of someone banging on her door. "Fucking hell," she cried.

"Open the door!" the man yelled, still banging.

Finally pulling herself from the bed, Rachel charged to the door and yanked it open roughly. "What the hell do you want?"

The man leaned against the doorframe and smiled with a smug sense of satisfaction. "This is how you greet me?" he asked teasingly.

"You've been calling me all evening, then you start banging on my fucking door and you want politeness?"

The man pushed past Rachel and waltzed into her apartment, "Nice to see you, too, little sister."

Rachel eyed her brother carefully. He ran a nervous hand through his short, shaggy curls as he surveyed her home. His expression was similar to Rachel's, but with far more ease. Though his dark eyes were filled with worry, they remained calm. She quickly noticed him shifting a duffle bag that was slung over one of his broad shoulders. "What are you doing here? And why do you have luggage?"

"I came to make sure you were okay. It's never good when you go off the radar like this."

"I'm fine, Evan. Go home."

"That's not going to happen," Evan said quickly. He looked Rachel over. She was standing petulantly with her hands on her hips in a threadbare t-shirt and a pair of shorts. "When was the last time you showered?"

"You don't have to check up on me," Rachel mumbled. Evan headed into her kitchen and she called after him, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Your place is a mess," he said, returning to the living room. "You haven't showered, and the only food in your fridge is a slice of stale pizza."

"I don't need you here."

"What happened? The last time I talked to you, everything was okay. This can't be because of that professor. He sounded like just another place holder."

"He was."

"Then why do you look like someone's just crushed your heart?" Evan asked. The only response Rachel gave was an uncomfortable shrug before she folded her arms around herself. "Tell you what, go take a shower, I'll order some food and clean up."

"Anything but Thai," Rachel muttered. She surprised her brother and headed off to shower without an argument. When she was out of sight Evan looked around the apartment. He had his work cut out for him.

Half an hour later, Rachel sat on the floor with Evan. They were huddled around the coffee table picking at takeout. Each time Evan tried to uncover what was bothering her, she skirted his questions and avoided eye contact.

"How long have you been on leave?" he asked.

"About two weeks."

"You've been out two weeks and you want to keep telling me there's nothing wrong?"

"I just needed some time to think."

"About what?" Evan pushed.

"I met someone," Rachel finally conceded. "A few months ago. She was my patient, then we were friends, then something changed."

"You fell for her?" When Rachel didn't answer, Evan took his sister's silence as an admission. "What happened? Usually you jump ship before anybody gets to you. You distance yourself from everyone but me–which is insane by the way."

"It's not insane."

"It is. I understand why you do it, but it is. I don't like you being alone," Evan said, pausing to let his words sink in. "What was different with this girl?"

"She flew in under the radar. When we met she was all kinds of off limits–she was my patient, she had a boyfriend. I was drawn to her, though, and we just sort of grew closer. By the time I realized I needed to push her away, it was already too late."

"Okay, first of all, you don't need to push people away. Second of all, what do you mean?"

"She's too close now. I can't push her away," Rachel said.

"So don't."

"No, I mean, I actually can't. I've pushed and pushed and pushed, but I can't get through to her. I have told her flat out that I will hurt her, and she still won't stay away from me."

"Then she must really care about you," Evan said. "But if she's still around, you must be pulling punches."

"What?"

"I've seen you push a lot of people away. You say something cruel, let them see you with someone else," Evan paused, knowing he was about to hit a nerve. "You pick up and leave like you did with Ethan."

"Do not bring him up!"

"I just mean that if you want to leave someone out in the cold, they'll die of frostbite."

"You're right. Every time I see her, I start pinpointing exactly what I'd have to say to push her away for good, but I can never say it. I can't stay away from her. She's been gone almost a month and I can't stop thinking about her. I don't know what I'm going to do when she gets back from her trip. She actually asked me to go to Thailand with her."

"Why didn't you?"

"It breaks my heart to be just friends, but I certainly can't be anything else."

"What are you so afraid of?"

"Christ, you listen as well as she does. I'll hurt her. I don't want things to end up like they did with Ethan and me. Or worse."

"So don't let them."

"It's not that simple," Rachel insisted.

"It's hard to be in relationships when you come from a family like ours. I know how it is. All we know is the way Dad treated people. But we're not him, and it sounds like you've found someone who's really worth putting all that aside for."

"This isn't fair," Rachel groaned. "I feel like I belong to her. I couldn't even sleep in my bed the other night, I kept feeling her laying next to me."

"Yeah, sleep with her, then push her away. That's brilliant."

"I didn't sleep with her. I mean I slept with her, but I didn't have sex with her."

"Why would you do that?" Evan asked. "Why would you do something that intimate if you were trying to push her away?"

"She showed up drunk, and when I put her to bed, she wouldn't let me go. I didn't want her to let me go. I can't stop thinking about her. It's even worse now that she's not working at the hospital. I couldn't even concentrate on my work. I had to tell my boss I was sick."

"Lovesick," Evan muttered.

"Shut up."

"You are, aren't you? You're in love with her!"

"It's not that simple," Rachel said. She brought her knees to her chest and ran her hands through her hair nervously. "Have you ever wondered why she was my patient in the first place? It's not a good diagnosis. Her life is complicated enough. I don't want to add to that. She should be with someone who can love her, someone who can make things easier."

"When did you become such a coward?" Evan asked pointedly. "If things aren't simple, simplify them. You want things to be good for her, then make them good. Be good for her."

"What if I can't be?"

"You can. You have it in you. All those things you want for her, make them happen." Evan looked at Rachel. She finally seemed to be hearing him; considering his words instead of brushing them off. "What's she like?"

"She's tall, brunette, she has these amazing blue-green eyes. Every time I see them I sort of stop breathing for moment."

"That's lovely," Evan said loftily. "But I didn't ask what she looked like. Tell me about her. What is it that has you so twitterpated?"

"She's stubborn, hardheaded, impatient, sarcastic–"

"Wonderful, she's like you," Evan threw in.

"But then," Rachel continued. She spoke as if she hadn't heard her brother, and it was likely she hadn't. "If she lets you in, even just a little, she's sweet and thoughtful. And she's always clever and witty, I mean, she has this really sharp, dry sense of humor. And she's fucking brilliant. She worked for House."

"That crazy doctor you told me about?"

Rachel nodded, "She's amazing, and passionate, and a million other things I can't explain correctly."

"So, tell me honestly, do you love her?" Evan asked.

"I don't know," Rachel said quietly. "I know that sounds stupid. I've just spent so much time pushing my feelings for her away that I don't really know where they go."

"But you do care for her?"

"Very much."

"Then you have to do something. You can't keep pushing everything away. You have to be honest with yourself. If you want to be with her, you have to tell her. Everything else, all the fears and uncertainties, you work through them."

"When did you become such an expert?"

Evan smiled sheepishly and shrugged, "Eh, I've known one or two amazing, passionate, million other things girls back in Brooklyn."

"Then why are you single?"

"Because I'm highly neurotic and I didn't know the things I know now. So stop asking why and take advantage of my experience."

Rachel sighed wearily, "I'm going to take advantage of my bed. Do you mind cleaning up?" Evan shook his head and Rachel headed off to her bedroom. She lied down and began staring at the ceiling again. She listened while Evan washed the dishes and put the food away. After a few minutes he appeared in her doorway. He watched her a moment before breaking the silence.

"Is this what you've been doing? Staring at the ceiling for two weeks?"

"I'm thinking," Rachel said.

"What about?"

"About how to handle all this."

"Just go talk to her."

"It's not that simple." Seeing that Evan was ready to object, Rachel spoke quickly, "I know, I know, 'Make things simple.' That's what I'm trying to do."

"What's the complication?" Evan asked.

"She may not want to talk to me when she gets back. When she asked me to go with her, she had this look in her eyes, like it was the last time she would put herself on the line for me."

"Good for her."

"Excuse me?"

"It sounds like all she's done is put herself on the line for you. That's not fair," Evan explained. "It's your turn."

Rachel sighed and patted the space next to her, "Sit with me?" Evan walked to the bed and lied down, wrapping his arms around Rachel as she leaned her head against his chest. "How do I do this?" she asked.

"You fight for her. Write her a letter, call her, go see her. Do or say whatever you have to do to make her see that this time is different."

Having her brother nearby, Rachel finally began to feel a sense of calm. For the time being, her fears were quieted. She curled into his side and began to drift off to sleep.

It was early when Rachel began to stir. When her eyes crept open, the room was bathed in a dusky blue light. She sat up carefully, so as not to wake Evan, and glanced over to the clock.

Five a.m.

Usually she would be starting her day now. Instead, she lied back down and looked to the ceiling. This had become a routine of sorts. She'd wake early after sleeping only a few hours, then lie staring at the ceiling in lament, leaving the bed only if necessary. But today was different.

Rachel pulled herself out of bed. She made her way to the kitchen, and put on a pot of coffee. For the first time in weeks, she didn't want to curl up and go back to sleep. She settled into her normal routine–coffee, breakfast, and a newspaper–and was enjoying the quiet return to normalcy. When the smells of food and coffee had penetrated the apartment Evan came lumbering out of the bedroom in search of breakfast. He joined Rachel at the table, took a long pull from his coffee cup, and grabbed a discarded section of the paper.

"How long have you been up?" he asked from behind the paper.

"About an hour. I haven't been sleeping well."

"That's heartache for you," Evan mumbled.

"It's different today," Rachel said. "I feel better."

"One conversation and you're all fixed? I must be getting better at this."

Rachel smiled briefly before turning somber and pulling the newspaper from her brother's face. "I can't be afraid of this anymore," Rachel told him. "The only thing I have to lose is her."

"Good," Evan said, smiling broadly. "Use some of that Galvin charm to win her over."

"It's going to take a lot more than that."

"You have a plan?"

"Nope. I was hoping you had one," Rachel smirked as Evan scoffed at her. "I don't know what I'm going to do, but I feel like if don't go after her, I'll hold this pain in my heart forever."

"Well, look who went to Emerald City and came back with a medal."

"And with that, Scarecrow, you've just roped yourself into helping me."

Evan smiled and smacked his forehead in mock frustration, "What can I do?"

"Help me write a letter?" Rachel asked. "You're good at that stuff–waxing poetic without being afraid."

"No, no, no. No flowery words, just honesty. Apologize, tell her why you're afraid, tell her you love her."

"I didn't say I loved her. I just want to be with her."

"So write it down. No holding back."

Rachel leapt to her feet and rushed from the room. Evan quickly followed his sister to her desk and they began drafting and discarding words. Any time Rachel attempted to withhold details, Evan would encourage her to push forward. With his reassurance, Rachel compiled a letter detailing all the shortcomings and misgivings that had led her into such a mess. She scrawled multiple pages so frenetically that she hoped her earnest wouldn't overwhelm Thirteen. In sentence after sentence, she poured out every detail she could comfortably reveal. When she was satisfied to stop, Rachel closed the letter simply:

I am so incredibly sorry. I hope I haven't pushed you away for good. I hope you can forgive me. Please believe that this time is different.

–Rachel

The next morning Rachel bounded out of bed. Without wasting any time, she quickly showered and dressed. Evan was in the kitchen fixing coffee when she called to him, "Are you about ready to head home, Ev?"

"I'm not leaving until I'm sure you're on the mend and off to work", he yelled back. He looked up as he heard the clicking of heels against the hardwood and Rachel walked out dressed for the office. "Which apparently you are. Great. Drop me off at the train station on the way?" Rachel nodded and he gathered his things, guzzled down his coffee, and followed his sister out the door.

Their drive to the train station was peaceful and quiet. Having finally made a decision, Rachel felt a sort of certainty. Her ease flooded the car and Evan was relieved. Rachel walked Evan out to the track of the quaint station and wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you for coming to fix me up."

Evan returned the hug firmly and shrugged, "That's my job–to leave you better than when I found you. You'll call and let me know how everything works out?" He felt Rachel nod against his shoulder before he pulled back to look at her.

"I will, I promise," she said.

Evan jabbed her arm playfully and smiled, "Go get your girl."