Johnny lay awake in bed a long time, thinking about Midori. He could have sat across the table looking at her forever. Watching the way her eyes danced when she laughed. Watching the way the light shone in her hair. Watching the way her hands moved as she talked. He had wanted to touch her. Her skin looked so soft. He huffed. He'd better just stop thinking about it, because nothing was going to happen. He gave up on sleeping and dialed the number for the crisis center, drumming his fingers on the table while he waited impatiently for the counselor named Sam to come on the line.

"What's on your mind?"

"I want to know how long it's going to take."

"How long what is going to take?"

"How long before I forget all this? How long before I'm back to normal?"

"Well, it takes most people about a year to start to feel normal again…"

"A year!" Johnny interrupted.

"I'm very sorry, but some things just can't be rushed. Or, fixed with a Band-Aid."

"Damn."

"We guys like to identify a problem, fix it, and move on. But recovering from rape is more complicated than that. It's going to take some time. Allow yourself to work through it for as long as it takes. Expect good days and bad days…"

"Yeah, yeah. I've heard some of this shrink stuff before."

"Are you seeing a psychiatrist?"

"No!" he exclaimed, horrified.

"Just asking. Not everyone needs to. What else are you thinking about?"

"Uh… I just started seeing this woman. I like her." Johnny exhaled audibly.

"I'm glad you're seeing someone you like."

"Am I ever going to feel like… uh…"

"Are you wondering about having sexual relations with this woman?"

"Yeah."

"Often after being raped, men lose their desire for a while or become temporarily impotent."

"How long?"

"It depends on the individual. I'm sorry I can't be more specific." When Johnny made no immediate reply, Sam asked, "Are you okay?"

"You know, sometimes it's like there's nothing inside."

"I know it's seems like it's taking too long to feel better. I'm sorry I can't speed things up for you."

"I just want this to be over. I just want everything to be the way it was…" His voice caught and he inhaled shakily. "I'm tired."

"I'm sorry. I know it's hard. I know it hurts. I promise, you will feel better eventually. Unfortunately, you just can't rush it. It may not seem like it to you, but I can hear a difference in you each time we talk."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Earth to Johnny…" Marco waved his hand in front of Johnny's face.

"What?" Johnny startled, looking more chagrined than frightened.

"We're hungry. When are you going to start dinner?"

"Oh. What time is it?"

"It's almost five o'clock. Better hurry up before we get a run."

"Okay, okay," he replied, starting the water boiling for spaghetti, one of the quicker meals he could prepare.

After the vegetables were chopped, he stood in front of the stove, absently stirring the simmering sauce.

Chet watched him for a while, and then started in. "Oooh, he must have it bad."

"Have what bad?" Marco always stood ready to assist Chet in a little dinner-time diversion, especially since Johnny seemed to be more like his old self of late.

Chet walked over and made a show of closely examining Johnny. "Yep. It's bad."

"Back off, Chet, unless you want sauce all over your shirt," Johnny said in mild irritation as he put down the spoon and got out the bread, butter and garlic. When Chet didn't move, Johnny added, "Make yourself useful. Turn on the oven to 350 degrees."

Chet complied and then continued his exaggerated perusal of Johnny from over by the oven. Finally Johnny couldn't stand it anymore. "What?"

"What?"

Eyes narrowed, Johnny waved the butter knife in Chet's direction. "What do I have bad?"

Chet walked over to Johnny and circled him, while looking him up and down and saying, "Uh huh, uh huh."

"Chet!"

"The love bug." Chet smirked. "I can see the bite marks all over you."

Johnny's mouth dropped open, but he remained speechless.

Marco laughed. "Is that right? Who is she?"

Busily putting the bread onto a baking sheet, Johnny mumbled, "You don't know her."

"Ah! So I was right!" crowed Chet. "Come on, pal. Give. Who is she?"

"You don't know her. We've only been out a couple of times."

"She went out with you more than once? What's wrong with her?"

"Go get lost, Chet."