Disclaimers: The characters are the property of Spelling/Goldberg Entertainment. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made from this story. The storyline is the property of the author.

Summary: Lt. Ryker's house is prepared for Jill's upcoming move as she continues to further explore her increasingly more confusing feelings for Mike. Paul gives Mike training on how to work with Jill.

A/N: This is a new chapter which fills in the gaps between the previous chapter and the next chapter. Originally, I jumped forward without giving much of an explanation of how things came about.

Also, something that I write about quite a bit in my stories is the constant hand holding between Mike and Jill. I'm going to explore that in this chapter.

Chapter 9: Preparing for the Move

For the next week and a half, Mike made the long drive out to Lt. Ryker's every afternoon after he got off duty to help Trap with the improvements to the cottage. This left him with less time to spend with Jill, much to her surprising disappointment. She found herself complaining about this to her therapist one afternoon. "Mike's . . . never . . . here," she complained as Paul bit back a smile.

"I wasn't aware that was a problem. I thought that you didn't even like him," he reminded her.

"I . . . didn't . . . say . . . that."

"You're always worried about Cleve coming back. Isn't that why we're making the move out to the country?"

"You're . . . going?"

"Well yeah. You need a therapist. But, I'm also going to train Mike to work with you, too. It's a nice place. There are horses and lots of country."

"Why . . . do . . . I . . . remember . . . that . . . house . . . and . . . not . . . other . . . stuff?"

"I don't know. The brain is funny that way. How's the walking coming along?"

"Okay," she grimaced. "I . . . use . . . the . . . wall."

"The railings on the walls?" He looked at her as she nodded. "I understand that you don't want to use a walker."

"Mike . . . told . . . you?"

"Yes, he did. So, since we have some time before the move, I want to start teaching you to use something new. Curtis, bring her over to the bars."

When his assistant brought Jill over to the bars, Paul walked over to her with two metal crutches with rings that fit at her elbows. He measured them to her arms, adjusting and readjusting them until he got the correct fit for her body. "You walk with these the same way that you do when you're walking between the bars. But, your arms have to move before your legs. If you get it backwards, you're going to fall."

When Mike showed up shortly after seven that evening, he was surprised to find Jill in the hall, practicing with the crutches. "I see Paul gave you something new to play with," he smiled until he saw the large bruises on her arms and legs. "What happened to you?"

"I . . . fall," she shrugged as she continued walking, her face scrunched in concentration.

"Maybe he's moved you to crutches too soon."

"No," she shook her head. "He . . . said . . . this . . . is . . . better . . . for . . . the . . . house."

"Trap and I have been working hard getting things ready," he fell into step beside her, ready to help her if she took a tumble.

"He . . . can't . . . do . . . it . . . alone?" She complained.

"Do you mean to tell me that you actually miss me?" He couldn't help smiling.

"You . . . used . . . to . . . visit . . . twice . . . a . . . day. Now . . . it's . . . late . . . when . . . you're . . . here."

He felt guilty as he listened to her. He'd been working hard to work his way back into her heart and now it felt as if he was dialing it back. It made him wonder if maybe Trap could handle the improvements on his own. The lieutenant had already told him that he'd go out on the weekend to help him. In the past week, they'd accomplished quite a lot. Besides, Paul had said that he wanted to train him on how to do Jill's exercises since it had already been decided that the therapist would just be at the cottage from six in the morning until six in the evening after Mike returned home from work.

"I have tomorrow off," he told her. "I'll see if Paul will cut you a break tomorrow so that I can spend the day with you."

"Can . . . we . . . go . . . outside?"

"Yeah, we can go outside," he smiled. "Come on, let's go back to your room and we'll play cards until visiting hours are over."

As they played cards, Mike kept her amused with stories of different calls that he'd taken during his shift. "I . . . thought . . . being . . . a . . . cop . . . was . . . always . . . dangerous."

"One of the first things they told us in the academy that being a police officer is eight hours of boredom mixed in with five minutes of excitement. And, I've learned that's the truth. Everything is boring and routine until that one call comes through. Then it's balls to the wall," he said as she grinned.

"You . . . like . . . it?"

"I like it very much."

"Do . . . I?"

He sat back and thought about that before he answered her. "I don't completely understand what it's like to be the wife of a police officer. It's a different club than what me, Terry, and Willie belong to. At first, you didn't like it. You threatened to leave more times than I care to remember."

"Then . . . why . . . did . . . I . . . stay?"

"I think that you decided to just tough it out. It hasn't always been easy, but we've stuck through it together."

"I . . . was . . . told . . . cops . . . were . . . the . . . enemy."

"I know. Am I the enemy?"

"No," she looked down at the bed as she blushed.

He smiled, always thinking that she looked so damn cute when she blushed like that. He looked toward the intercom box above her door as the announcement was made that visiting hours were ending in five minutes. "That's my cue. I have to go before Nurse Ellis threatens to ban me again."

"They . . . won't . . . ban . . . you. They . . . like . . . you . . . remember?"

"Well, Nurse Ellis doesn't like me. Remember the last time?" He was referring to a night a few nights earlier when he'd stayed five minutes past the end of visiting hours. The older nurse had threatened to ban him for a week for the violation.

"I'll . . . just . . . start . . . crying. It . . . seems . . . to . . . work . . . with . . . everybody . . . else."

"It mainly just works with me," he smiled as he put the cards back into the box. "I'll be back in the morning and we'll spend the day together."

"Did . . . you . . . ask . . . Paul?"

"I'm going to do that now."

Paul was packing up to leave for the night when Mike found him. "How are the repairs coming along at the house?"

"Great. We've got the wooden rails up inside of the house and Trap's putting ramps on the porches to make it easier for Jill. Uh, I was wondering if she could have the day off tomorrow. I'm off and I'd like to spend the whole day with her."

"She made a comment earlier about missing you," he grinned. "In fact, she didn't mention that other guy at all. You might be getting her back."

"I don't know. Dr. Conti keeps telling me not to get my hopes up too quickly."

"Keep your heels dug in, Mike. Believe me, you're getting her back. When are we going to start your training?"

"How about tomorrow after visiting hours are over? I can work with you for a couple of hours."

"That sounds good. I really shouldn't give her the day off, but she's been working really hard, so I guess she deserves a break."

"Thanks, Paul."

***MJMJMJ***

The next morning when Mike arrived, he was carrying a small suitcase. "I thought that you might like to wear real clothes," he smiled as he put the case on the bed.

"It's . . . hard . . . for . . . me . . . to . . . dress," she complained.

"I'll get one of the nurses to help you," he offered. "Or I can help you."

"No," she shook her head defiantly. "Get . . . a . . . nurse."

Paul had told Mike that he was working with Jill on re-learning to dress herself, but her fingers on the right hand were still so clumsy that she quickly became frustrated with herself. And he knew that the reason she didn't want him helping her was she still wasn't comfortable enough with him for him to see her in a state of undress.

After he got a nurse to help her dress, they slowly made their way outside to the same spot they usually went. It was a breezy spring morning, but Jill could see clouds thickening on the horizon. "Rain," she commented as she kept an eye on the sky.

"Maybe, but I'll get you back inside before the storm," he watched her, as usual wondering why she was so fearful of storms.

"When . . . are . . . we . . . going . . . to . . . the . . . country?"

"Soon. We're still making the necessary repairs so that you can get around easily."

"Paul's . . . staying . . . with . . . me?"

"Just during the day."

"I . . . can't . . . stay . . . alone," her eyes widened in alarm.

"You're not going to be staying alone. Paul will be there during the day until I get home and then I'll be there. No one's leaving you by yourself," he repeated.

"Mike . . . I . . . I . . . can't . . . sleep . . . with you."

Mike noticed that on occasion she now said more than one word at a time. "Hey, listen. I know you're not ready to sleep with me. It's going to be okay."

He hated seeing how horribly confused and fearful that she still was. He had a meeting scheduled with Dr. Conti for later that evening. He made a mental note to ask him how he could help her move past the constant fear that she had. It seemed worse now than it was when he'd first met her. "It's . . . safe . . . there?"

"Yeah, it's very safe. He's not going to find you there."

She looked down at the bench that they were sitting on. His hand was resting on the bench between their bodies. She found herself wondering what it would be like to hold his hand. She wondered if Mike even liked holding hands. Cleve had never liked her touching him. He was the one who'd done all the touching, she remembered with an involuntary shudder at the memory.

Mike watched her as he wondered what she was thinking about. He noticed that she seemed to be studying his hand as if contemplating whether he'd accept her touch or not. He loved nothing more than holding hands with her. It had been that way from their very first lunch date. He gasped as he felt her hand tentatively touch his. He opened his hand and lightly curled his fingers around hers as she glanced up at him. "Terry's always joking that you and I have more ways to hold hands than anyone he's ever seen in his life."

"Really?" She gave him a genuine smile. "Cleve . . . didn't . . . like . . . me . . . touching . . . him."

"Well, I'm a very touchy guy," he grinned at her.

"I . . . take . . . it that . . . you . . . don't . . . mean . . . grumpy."

"No, I definitely meant touchy as in 'feely.'"

She was about to say something when they both heard thunder in the distance. "We'd . . . better . . . go . . . inside."

They made it back into the hospital just as the storm broke. He was about to ask her why storms scared her when she headed for the elevator. "Hey, I have an idea," he caught up with her just as she was about to crash to the floor. "Whoa! I've got you!"

She stiffened up in his arms as she tried to pull away from him. "I'm . . . okay. I . . . don't . . . need . . . help. What . . . was . . . your . . . idea?"

"Let's go to the cafeteria and get some ice cream."

"Strawberry?"

"Of course. Come on," he fell into step beside her as he let her set the pace.

As they ate ice cream, their conversation fell into a lighter pattern. She laughed as he told her story after story about Willie and Terry. "So anyway, we're sitting in the classroom listening to this incredibly boring lecture by our then Sgt. Ryker. I guess Willie and Terry were having their own discussing, because suddenly Ryker interrupts them."

"What . . . happened?" Her eyes were huge as she held onto his every word.

"He asks them if they wanted to share their conversation with the rest of the class since it seemed to be more interesting than what he was talking about. So, poor Willie stands up and asks him why our uniforms weren't blue."

"That . . . was . . . his . . . question?" She was incredulous.

"Yeah, but Ryker's answer was classic. He says in this booming voice 'The uniforms of a rookie are tan; the mouth of a rookie is shut.' Needless to say, it shut Willie and Terry up."

"Are . . . they . . . always . . . in . . . trouble . . . like . . . that?"

"No, not always. Willie's just a young kid and he has a tendency to say the first thing that comes into his head."

"Like . . . telling . . . me . . . that . . . you . . . were . . . a . . . cop?" She reminded him as he winced at the memory. "What . . . about . . . Terry?"

"Terry's serious. I think that's why we're such good friends. But, he likes to make these long-winded speeches. We tease him about it a lot."

"Mike?" He looked at her as she bit her lip. "Is . . . this . . . a . . . date?"

"Yeah, I guess it could be considered a date. It'd be a real date if we were having pizza."

"I . . . miss . . . pizza," she sighed wistfully as he laughed.

"I'll try to smuggle one in."

They had a wonderful day, but by seven thirty that night, Mike could tell that Jill was exhausted. After all, she was still getting her strength back. He summoned a nurse to help her into her gown that he'd brought her from home. She settled back against her pillows as she fingered the lace on the gown. She'd never had anything so pretty. "I . . . had . . . a . . . wonderful . . . time . . . today," she smiled sleepily.

"So did I. We'll have to do this again."

She didn't say anything as her eyes fluttered closed. He thought about placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, but decided that it was too soon. "I'll see you tomorrow," he whispered as he left the room. "I love you, baby."

Dr. Conti was in his office when Mike arrived. "Mike, please have a seat. Can I get you some coffee?"

"No, thanks. I'm going to go home to get some sleep."

"Paul was telling me that you spent today with Jill. How'd it go?"

"Pretty good, for the most part. There are times when she's still so scared. How can I help her move past that fear? I want her to trust me again."

"She's starting to trust you, Mike. If she wasn't, she wouldn't be willing to spend time with you. I think right now her brain is at war with itself. The old Jill is battling with the newer Jill that's still trying to emerge. Just keep doing what you're doing and I think that the new Jill will keep rising to the surface. Paul was telling me that the house should be ready in about a week."

"Yeah, the lieutenant said they should be finishing up this weekend. I'm going to go out on Sunday to help and to take our things out there."

"Then I'll have a talk with her before you take her out there."

After leaving Dr. Conti, Mike spent the next hour and a half with Paul as the therapist taught him everything that he needed to learn to take care of Jill in the evenings. "As I'm sure you've noticed, she won't let you help her. It'll make her more confident in dressing herself if you can keep things with buttons, zippers, and snaps to a minimum."

"Okay."

"She gets frustrated easily, so don't be surprised if she throws things at you. She's getting better every day, but her fine motor skills are still posing a problem."

"Yeah, I've noticed that."

"Your biggest challenge is going to be getting her in the pool. She still fights tooth and nail every day when we get in the water. I might let you work with her on that because I have a feeling that's a trust issue."

"Is there anything else?"

"Just be patient, not only with her but with yourself. There are times when she frustrates me so badly that I want to ram my head into the nearest wall. But when she has a victory," the therapist smiled, "it's so worth it."

"I'll keep that in mind."

***MJMJMJ***

Jill was walking the halls the next morning when Dr. Conti approached her. "I see that Paul has you practicing. How's it going?"

"I . . . want . . . to . . . stop . . . falling."

"Jill, you're going to get better. Give yourself time. Why don't we sit down and talk?"

"Is . . . something . . . wrong? Am . . . I . . . staying . . . here?"

"No, you're still going out to your friend's house. Please sit," he pointed to a battered sofa in the waiting area. "How's your memory coming?"

"It's . . . not."

"How do you feel about Mike?"

"He's . . . nice . . . to . . . me. I . . . want . . . to . . . remember . . . but . . . I can't."

"I didn't ask how he felt about you. How do you feel about him?"

Was he asking her if she loved him? She didn't know. She wasn't even sure what that emotion even entailed. Her mother hadn't really loved her. If she had, she wouldn't have chosen her new husband over her when she was five years old. She didn't even want to think about her father. Cleve had liked . . . doing unspeakable things to her, but that wasn't love, either. "I . . . don't know."

"Okay, I won't ask you anymore about your feeling about him," the doctor smiled. "Paul will bring you in to see me once a week once you make the move. We're going to work on getting you fully independent."

Jill couldn't help smiling as the doctor left. Fully independent sounded wonderful to her. And the house in the country definitely sounded better than being cooped up in this hospital all of the time. Maybe she could figure out how she felt about Mike out there. After all, they'd be together all of the time.