A/N: Many thanks for those hanging in on this story! Lyrics are from "Visions of Johanna", by Bob Dylan

When Finn awoke, Jane had already left for work. She left him a note:

Thank you for last night. It was just what I needed—almost. Breakfast is in the fridge. Just heat it up. Meet me at the police station at 11:30. You're taking me out to lunch. - J

He made himself some fresh coffee and went out on her deck in the back. The weather was still cool, but clear and breezy. Two white mountain sheep grazed contentedly on the grass in her backyard. After eating and showering he checked on his campsite. It hadn't been disturbed. He left a payment for two more days in the box, just in case. He wanted to stay with Jane, but didn't know what the visa situation was. Besides, he really didn't know if she even wanted him to stay. They could talk about that at lunch.

The RCMP station in Waterton was an old Tudor design house, complete with stone chimney, located on a corner on Waterton Ave. Finn walked up to the young male constable behind the desk, and asked for Constable Feeney.

"Jane!", the constable called, 'Somebody here to see you!" He looked at Finn with interest.

Jane came out of another room and smiled.

"Let's go, " she said. Jane was wearing the standard duty uniform: pale blue, short-sleeved shirt, dark blue trousers with a yellow stripe, and a bluish-gray pocketed vest. She waved at the desk as she walked out with him, tugging the dark blue hat with the yellow mesh stripe over her pulled-back hair.

She took his arm, almost exactly as Rachel used to, while they walked to a small, nearby restaurant. As they were seated he noticed her sidearm.

"What do they issue the RCMP?" he wondered. Jane looked over the menu after having ordered iced tea.

"Smith and Wesson 5946 nine-millimeter,"she answered. "I'll have a BLT."

He nodded. He was going to have a meatball sandwich and a beer. He told her about extending his stay at the campground for a couple more days. She gave an exaggerated sigh and pouted.

"And here I was thinking I was saving you a few bucks by having you stay with me."

Suddenly he felt like he was in high school again, "Well, you hadn't invited me for another night…I didn't want to appear presumptuous… Is it okay if I stay with you? Because that would be awesome…I..."

Her eyes twinkled as she put her hands over his.

"You can stay as long as you want, Finn. But if you want to get a job, however, we'll need to get you a better visa."

"I'd like to stay longer than a few days, and get a job," he said, and her face broke into a wide smile.

"Well, you're in luck. The RCMP is a federal agency. I'll see what we can do about that."

She reached over the table and pulled him by the collar into a kiss. There was clapping from the bar, and Jane beamed at them.

"Also, stop by Hansen's garage just down the block. They're hiring, if you're interested. Since you're with me, they'll work around the immigration issues. A girl could use help with the mortgage, you know."

Finn just stared in appreciation.

She returned home with a pizza.

"I hope you like sausage and mushroom," she said, putting it on the table as he opened some of the Molsons he had bought earlier.

"Can't let them go to waste," he said, "Even though those Wild Roses are amazing."

She left to get changed, and returned with her dark, wavy hair down and flowing, wearing just a blue plaid flannel shirt and black panties, and breezed onto his lap, kissing him.

"You like black underwear," he noted.

"Only when I have gentlemen callers," she laughed. "Actually, I just grabbed them blindly from the drawer this morning."

"I got the job. Well, almost—Hansen said he'd drop by and talk to you about the visa situation."

"Excellent!" Jane beamed, still on his lap, waving a slice. "What did you do with the rest of your day?" She took a huge bite of pizza.

"I packed up my campsite, and then listened to records. That Joan Baez one of Dylan covers is amazing."

She nodded enthusiastically.

"Oh yeah, her voice gives me chills."

Jane kissed Finn again, and tasted of Italian sausage, which aroused him even more than he already was. She felt it against her thigh and leaned over, whispering in his ear:

"Does this mean I'm going to get lucky tonight?"

She wasn't as shy this time around. Finn found her different size and rhythms and taste exciting, as she found his. And when they were finished, exhausted, the sleep was deep and satisfying. It staved off the demons, at least for one more night.

Xxxxxx

Inevitably, the nightmares did come. Four nights later, after celebrating Finn's getting the job, Jane was startled awake by him thrashing wildly, grunting and muttering. When it didn't seem to taper off, she remembered what Brian had done for her, and modified it for a man.

Maneuvering his twitching body until he was in her arms, she hugged Finn tightly. Fortunately, she was strong enough to keep the pressure on as he initially bucked but then quickly relaxed, as if by reflex. However, to truly bring him out of the grip of the dream, she had to wake him up. First, while still holding him tightly, Jane began kissing his forehead, eyes, and lips. She could feel him start to come out of it, so she let go with one hand, and brought it down to cup his testicles, gently but firmly, then dragged her palm upwards, over his penis. Finn's eyes popped open in surprise, and even though he was still partially asleep, she felt him quickly become aroused. She grasped him, and as the grip of the dream finally broke, brought Finn to climax as he became fully conscious.

She remembered what that felt like, seeing her husband's kind face coming into focus, as if she had almost drowned and he had pulled her out of the water just in time, her screaming with the pleasure of starved lungs filling with that first, intense breath of impossibly sweet air. She remembered how much she had loved him then.

Jane released Finn onto his back, where he lay gasping, eyes glazed over in a mixture of horror and pleasure. She cleaned him with a Kleenex from the night stand. He smiled weakly as she leaned down to kiss him.

"Feeling better?"

"Yeah. Does the Army know about this technique? It's awesome!"

She grinned at him.

"You mean, 'Fucking the Demons Away'? That's what Brian called it. "

Finn chuckled, but was absolutely drained. She turned out the light, and brought him to her, resting his head on her breast.

"Go to sleep now, baby," she said.

"But what about you?" he asked.

Jane kissed the top of his head.

"You can pleasure me in the morning. It's the weekend."

But he was already asleep.

XXXxxxx

They remained together for two years.

She taught him how to fly fish. He chopped wood for their elderly neighbors. They went snowshoeing in Banff. He wrote songs. They comforted each other when the nightmares came. They led a simple, quiet life.

But, even though the nightmares finally eased, other, unbidden dreams rose to take their place. Early one morning he found her crying at the kitchen table. She didn't tell him she had a vivid dream about her husband. He caught himself almost calling Jane "Rachel" in the middle of a completely relaxed, normal conversation, after dreaming about her.

Each began to wonder the same thing: why, at the point when they felt so happy and good together, when they had finally managed to wrest power away from that fucking war, did the patient ghosts of Brian and Rachel have to step forward again?

XXXxxxx

They were standing on the southern shore of The Great Slave Lake, on a seaplane dock at Fort Resolution. It was late spring, perfectly clear, some ice still present, with a brisk wind, cold off the choppy lake. They were both dressed in RCMP regulation fur hats and heavy coats. She hoped her tears wouldn't freeze. Her husband stood, his six-foot-one frame bent to hold her, unable to speak. They had talked it through so many times, argued, cried, attempted to compromise, and now, reluctantly, were giving up. Neither had ever loved anyone else. They had been together through war, her terrible wound and rehabilitation, and joining one of the premier police organizations in the world. It surprised and saddened both of them to discover that the war's last cruel parting shot was the inability of one to live where the other had to be, to save his sanity.

"Don't go," she whispered, one last time. She tried clinging to him on the bobbing dock, to try and hold him back.

Gently—she flashed back, crazily, to how gentle he was the first time they made love-he pulled away. Her wound sympathetically ached.

"I love you," he said, and then was gone. The sturdy yellow RCMP seaplane coughed into life, and then skimmed the cold blue water before lifting her husband, her lover, her best friend, up and away. Away from her. She stood, sobbing, bobbing wildly as the plane's wake hit the floating dock, straining to see the yellow dot in the sky until it disappeared over the lake. She felt bereft, disfigured, and alone.

XXXXxxxx

She was singing, up on stage where she was born to be, a tiny person bringing an entire audience to its feet with the power of her remarkable instrument. He stood in the front row with them, flowers in hand, to give to her afterwards. And as she bowed, awash with adulation, she caught his eye, giving him that same smile she wore when he told her he loved her for the very first time.

Then she was gone. So was the audience. He was alone; holding the flowers, which had now wilted because he was wasn't able to make his way backstage. He could feel her, though: warm, loving, calmly beating inside of his chest. Waiting. Waiting for him to finish his business with Eddie, Trevor, and Bill, who had gathered at the back of the theater.

XXXXxxxx

Jane and Finn eventually told each other about the dreams at breakfast one day, sitting at the kitchen table, spring morning sunshine coming in through the window.

"Finn, you know that Dylan song you love the most? 'Visions of Johanna'? It could be about us, you know. "

Jane seemed saddened, but somehow philosophical about it all.

Finn, heartsick, didn't make the connection.

"How?"

"It's about two women, Louise and Johanna. Louise is available, and sensual. Johanna never appears at all, but remains this remote, but unavoidable vision in the room that the narrator can't deny:

Louise, she's all right, she's just near
She's delicate and seems like the mirror
But she just makes it all too concise and too clear
That Johanna's not here"

She went over, sat on his lap, and kissed him, smiling through her own tears.

"Don't you see? We are each other's Louise."

"But…I love you," he said, voice trembling.

She kissed him again.

"I love you too baby, but we are here, in this world, for them, our Johannas. They're telling us this. And I think that we should listen."

They made love their last night together, a parting gift to one another, because it was right and true. They had come to love and heal each other, managing to erase the worst of the war's scars, the non-corporeal ones, and in doing so came closer to reconciling with the true loves of their lives. Their relationship was at least one shred of decency to come out of the war's otherwise grotesque, hideous legacy.

Jane was going to try and reach out to Brian. Maybe he could handle more civilization now.

Finn headed south, but he was still not ready to head back home. He still had to square his feelings of guilt over surviving, while Eddie, Trevor and Bill did not. But his time with Jane suggested there was possibly a way.

He would bring them back to life through song.