Chapter Six

"Out from the night, from the mist, steps a figure."

A slender woman drifted through dark, wet alleys at a time of night no sane person would. Tight black pants clung to her legs while a long black tunic disguised whatever curves there she might have. A large duffel bag was slung over her shoulder. She was trying to escape.

Two GenCops were in pursuit, similarly dressed in black. They had specific orders. Find the girl, eliminate her and then dump her body with those of the repossessed. They had been following her for at least ten minutes. It was time to pull out their badges and make her think that she was merely being arrested. Then they would put a bullet in her head.

"Olivia Stewart!" one shouted, lifting his badge while his partner prepared to shoot. "You're under arrest for the illegal sale of organs - " She abruptly turned the corner and the GenCop swore. They chased her, making the same turn and coming upon an empty alley. Empty except for the black duffel bag resting on the ground. The GenCops drew their weapons and cautiously approached the bag. This wasn't part of the plan.

"Olivia Stewart," the other called out, his voice considerably gruffer. "Resisting arrest will make things much harder."

"Sorry," a voice as dark and soft as candle smoke whispered in the silence. "There's no Olivia here." There was movement in the shadows then a flash of light, as if reflecting off silver. One GenCop began to make choking sounds before falling to his knees.

"What the fuck?" his partner gasped, reaching out to help the struggling man. When his hand touched his throat, a flow of blood immediately soaked the fabric of his glove. "Fuck!" He saw movement again and this time managed to get a shot off before the shadow reached him. It was too dark to see, the moonlight unable to reach into the narrow alley. He heard the hiss of pain, though. He knew he'd gotten her. Then a hand gripped his gun and pushed it out of the way as a knee came up between his legs. Pain and nausea viciously stabbed through him as he fell to his knees just as his partner had. The gun was easily jerked out of his nerveless fingers. She cracked the heel of his weapon against the back of his head. He let out a grunt and fell backwards, staring numbly up at the midnight sky.

"You shot me. How absolutely inconsiderate," the voice muttered. Boot heels clicked against the street as she walked away from him to retrieve her duffel bag and then returned to his side. "Even if you only got my arm, I will have to fish a bullet out and there's nothing more inconvenient than operating on yourself. Not that you'll ever know." There were several clicking sounds before a gun was pressed against his neck. It sparked and suddenly he felt no pain. In fact, he couldn't feel anything at all.

She rocked back on her heels, dark hair flowing with the movement. Briefly a murky green eye was exposed as well as the multiple scars beneath it. She pressed a button on her bracelet. "Patient 57, be ready for surgery in exactly two hours. Bring payment." Another button was pressed and the message was sent. She let out a quiet sigh before slowly rolling her shoulders, ignoring the sting in her arm. It could wait. Her hands went into the bag, searching for gloves and a scalpel. "Now, let's see if I remember which of the intestines is the small one."

"Oh God, what have I done to you?"

Nathan couldn't remember the last time he'd come home to the scent of food and the sound of a woman. He'd stepped out from behind the fireplace, made sure it was closed and then was promptly thrown for a loop. There was laughter in the air, along with something that smelled warm and delicious. He cautiously sought out the source. Shilo was talking. She sounded enthusiastic and happy. For a moment he allowed himself to pretend that the last sixteen years had been a nightmare. Marni was alive and cooking with their daughter. Just for a moment.

"Good. I'd hate to think I've pissed off your dad for nothing." Olivia's voice interrupted Nathan's thoughts and he scowled.

"No, we wouldn't want that," he replied coldly. She turned slowly to look at him. Nathan still didn't know what to make of Olivia Stewart. From the moment he'd found her outside his house she had been an annoyance but also a fascinating puzzle. The curtain over the right side of her face never moved although the pin that held it all together often changed shape and color. And twenty-nine, the age Marni had been. It was foolish but he'd felt when he learned that that perhaps Marni had sent this woman to them for a reason. Now he felt that his wife would never be so vindictive, even if he had killed her.

He wanted to know what Olivia was hiding, if anything. He wanted to understand the woman he had allowed near his daughter but she defied his attempts. With him she was sarcastic, biting but also painfully honest if pressed. With Shilo, she was gentle and understanding. Another reason he'd agreed to this arrangement in the first place was because of how protective she was of his daughter. She had also been right about Shilo needing a woman to answer her questions. It pained him but the proof was staring Nathan in the face. Shilo was happier with Olivia in her life. She smiled more and complained less. He owed the woman a debt of gratitude.

That was one of the main reasons he didn't like her.

"Typical," she muttered, not in the least intimidated by his cold demeanor. Her eyes went to Shilo. "Keep an eye on the pizza will you, dear? Your father and I have to go argue for a bit." Olivia strode by him and out into the hall. Nathan let out an annoyed breath.

"Dad, wait," Shilo said, going to him. "Livvy hasn't done anything wrong. She made me sit down a lot and she wouldn't let me do any of the interesting cooking things. I'm really okay."

"I can see that, Shi. You don't need to worry. Just sit down and… keep an eye on that thing," Nathan added lamely as he looked toward the oven. Shilo did as he said although he could see she wasn't happy about it. He turned around and went after the woman who had made his life far more complicated than it needed to be.

"First off," Olivia said before he could open his mouth to speak. "I want to apologize for using your kitchen without permission. However, since the whole project was meant to entertain and feed your child I assumed you wouldn't mind terribly."

"This isn't about entertainment or nutrition," he snapped, set off as he always was by her blunt tone. "This is about taking my daughter out of her room without my permission and putting her in jeopardy."

"For God's sake, she isn't made of porcelain! Her medication was right there on the kitchen table, in case you didn't notice, and I had her sitting down constantly even though she clearly didn't need it."

"She's in a very delicate condition," Nathan began to explain but Olivia charged on.

"You have a huge house here and yet you keep her locked inside her room. She needs to come out every now and again, Mr. Wallace, or she'll go crazy."

"Call me Nathan."

"And another thing… What?" He had to struggle not to smirk at the confused expression on her face.

"We see each other regularly and we argue just as much. You can call me Nathan," he said, mostly because he could sense she didn't want to. Olivia frowned at him.

"Okay, Nathan, you can call me Livvy."

"I prefer Olivia."

"You would," she muttered. "Now I've forgotten what I was going to say."

"Good," Nathan replied. "I want to know how you got out of Shilo's locked room." Olivia suddenly got a very blank look on her face that he had come to recognize as her avoidance expression.

"You must have left it unlocked by accident," she responded casually as she began to turn away from him. Nathan gripped her arm with every intention of shaking an answer out of her when sheer pain intensified the blue of her eye and made her cheek go white. He knew pain. He inflicted it regularly, breathed it in and out. He had memorized the shape and feel of pain. There was no mistaking it in Olivia. He immediately loosened his grip.

"You're hurt." There were certain instincts that, as Nathan, he had never quite shaken. One of them was to tend to the wounded. Her long-sleeved black shirt had a series of buttons leading from the cuff to her shoulder, which he found immensely convenient. He began to swiftly unbutton her right sleeve.

"It's not a big deal, Nathan." She tried to pull away but his hands were solid. There would be no escape without tearing her shirt. "Seriously, I'm not really hurt. It's nothing." He parted the fabric away from where he'd hurt her. The first thing that registered was the neat row of stitches. Olivia pulled harder. "It's just a bruise." He glanced up with disbelief.

"You expect me to believe you stitched a bruise?" She covered the wound with her hand and somehow managed to look condescending.

"I'll admit that was overkill but it's not as if you've never overreacted." Nathan moved her hand so he could further study the wound.

"This was made by a bullet," he murmured, running his thumb lightly over the stitches. They were really excellent work and even more so if she did them herself. He suspected that she had. "Did you get all the bullet fragments out?"

"Believe me, no muscle tissue was left un-prodded," Olivia said dryly. "Mind letting go now?" He looked up to meet her eye.

"What have you gotten yourself into?" She scowled.

"How is this automatically my fault? For all you know I was just taking a walk when someone shot at me. Christ, just because I take your daughter out of her room to make some fucking pizza doesn't mean I'm a wanted felon, darting through alleys and evading the authorities."

"All right, all right," Nathan said, turning his eyes back to her arm. The wound was far friendlier than the look on Olivia's face at the moment.

"Would you let go of my arm already?" she demanded, trying to jerk away. It was bad-tempered and childish but Nathan decided not to let go simply to annoy her. "Oh, you jerk." She caught on fast to the true spirit of his stubbornness and retaliated by tugging hard at his ear with her free hand.

"Ow!" He locked a hand around the wrist that was attacking him while keeping a grip on her arm, albeit below the injured part. "Let go."

"You let go," she retorted. The pressure on his ear was both annoying and painful but instead of being practical he merely lashed out.

"Don't be a child," he snapped at her. Her blue eye blazed.

"Oh, I'm a child? You're the one who started it!" She kicked his ankle. He let out a pained hiss before pushing her back against the wall.

"Dammit, that hurt," Nathan growled.

"You deserved it, you…" she trailed off and he looked up to see what had distracted her. That's when he noticed it, too. The way they were standing, the way he was pressed against her… It didn't feel like a childish fight anymore. Nathan could smell the dough that lingered on her fingers and something deeper than that, something he smelled on a daily basis. Death.

His fingers had loosened on her wrist when she had released his ear. For a reason unknown to him, Nathan's hand moved gently down her arm until his fingers curled around her shoulder. She had moved her hand as well. It rested at the base of his neck, brushing against his hair. "Nathan," she murmured, her voice a combination of stunned and fascinated. "What is happening here?"

"I'm not sure," he whispered. They continued to stare at each other, bewildered.

"Livvy, is the pizza supposed to bubble?" Shilo's voice inquired. She stepped into the hallway then froze, eyes darting between her father and her friend. The smile that immediately curved her lips startled Nathan the most. "Oh, I'm so sorry. Pretend I wasn't here. Just… keep going." She darted back into the kitchen and there was no mistaking her excited giggle.

Olivia was out of his arms without delay. His arms. God, that's where she had been, wasn't it? How in the hell had it come to that?

"I'll go," she was saying through the confused fog he was experiencing. "I'll just grab my jacket and go."

"The… the pizza," Nathan said, fumbling for the words.

"It's okay, you guys enjoy it. Er, tell Shilo an emergency came up or something." Olivia turned to flee and Nathan barely got his head back into working order in time.

"Wait, wait just a moment," he insisted. She paused reluctantly. "Olivia, you should know that although I'm sure you have many unique charms I - "

"I know where you're going with this," she interrupted quickly. "Don't worry. I'm not remotely interested." Nathan blinked, a little taken aback by the firmness in her voice. Then his ego took a moment to process the comment.

"Thank you," he murmured flatly. Olivia got a puzzled look on her face before her lips slowly curled into a smirk.

"So there's a little vanity in the selfless, devoted father?" This seemed to amuse her. "Well, rest assured, you're still cute." Nathan was forced to blink slowly yet again.

"Cute?" Olivia carried on with what she was saying, ignoring his question.

"I mean, you're attractive for an older man but you're not my type. And besides that, there wouldn't be any point to it." She began walking away once more but something forced her to look back. Something forced her to add, "I enjoy a little competition but I have no intention of competing against a ghost."