Having closed the door after Aja, Sivanna waited until her keen Elvish ears could detect no more sounds of hoof beats or humming within reasonable distance. More than once the pirate gypsy had turned around and come knocking again on the Tuttles' door because she had forgotten to mention something or had forgotten one of her possessions. It wasn't uncommon that that forgetfulness had pertained to something important, too' Like a shoe or a cellular phone. But it wasn't that Aja was particularly absentminded. Rather, Sivanna was an expert at deflecting.

For a woman who had just narrowly escaped the clammy clutches of death, the rebound back to cynicism was certainly quick.

It didn't help that much of her life was currently in pieces. The day she was discharged from Riverview's ICU Sivanna had presented Anya with a folder of all her misdeeds. It was evidence"hardcopies of every receipt for illegitimate tests, illegal pharmaceutical orders, and worst of all, contracts with Anya's name forged on them. The clinic itself was out several thousand thanks to Sivanna"a matter that was quickly compensated for by severe pay cuts on the good doctor's end. The amount of guilt for that tormented the cleric on a daily basis, but not nearly as much as the guilt that had eaten through her core the day Sivanna had left Riverview once and for all.

It wasn't the guilt of embezzling that had her crying in Alec's arms that entire night. It wasn't even self-pity, though Sivanna was less than a heartbeat away from giving up the fight against that. What hurt the most was the look on Anya's face as she read through the file Sivanna had presented her with. The shock and the utter betrayal therein had cleaved Sivanna's heart in two surer than that bullet, flipped her stomach upside down, and made her wretch in the alleyway behind the clinic in self-disgust once she'd left the premises.

Sivanna had had no qualms about stealing from the clinic while she did it. She'd wanted to live. She'd wanted a life shared with Alec and, perhaps, many many years from then a family. When she'd been afflicted with the taint, the clock had ticked down faster than she could keep up with. Each morning she would wake up with less feeling and more death in her extremities or a ruined sense of taste or smell. And when she had touched the human in West End with her bare hands and he had felt the pain of rapid onset necrosis, Sivanna had learned that her taint was dangerously contagious.

She had pushed away from everyone after that. If asked she would only reply that it was the infectiveness of the taint that had kept her confirming contracts with Anya's signature and prevented her from asking friends for help. But truthfully she had distanced herself to prepare for the worst.

After all....It would be easier if she had died while at odds with everyone.

As it was, Alec's work with the Bond and her stay in Riverview had left her feeling more tireless than she had ever felt. And while she was full of more energy than she could handle, it was just that.

She couldn't handle it.

The tension that left her muscles sore and inflexible as concrete came in constant waves from just as constant stress and worry. She'd developed a plan after losing her job at Riverview, but so far that plan was proving to be radically difficult to carry out. The day after she exited those sliding doors the cleric had made a trip to the bank and withdrew nearly all of her savings to donate as an anonymous contributor through Riverview's charity channels. Everything she had amounted to less than half of what she had borrowed from the clinic. She'd already made up her mind to pay back every copper, but with Alec jobless and she recently unemployed, that plan developed into a long term one.

She needed to turn her life around. Alec was always adamant that deep down Sivanna could be a moral person, and truthfully she did sometimes enjoy helping people.

So, in penance to and to empathize somehow with Anya, Sivanna had bought anatomy and physiology textbooks and began studying them religiously.

Perhaps helping people would help her.

Perhaps.

Yet, as Sivanna looked at the scattered pages of Elvish notes and complicated diagrams with words she didn't understand, she felt that same horrible knot of tension wrap around her esophagus and radiate pain through her chest. Restless anxiety coiled in her muscles like springs and gave her the uncanny desire to drop to the floor and seize wildly while screaming at the top of her lungs.

She was broke, minus a friend, and was attempting to put herself into a career that was completely beyond her.

What the hell was she thinking"

Shaking violently, Sivanna strode over to the basement door, desperate to find some way to ease her tension. When she called out Alec's name and received no response, she continued to the bedroom and changed into a pair of leggings, tank top, and running shoes.

These past weeks had been the first time in Sivanna's life that she could actually run. It was a shame that every time she did she was in a terrible mood.

After leaving a note for her husband and her cellular phone on the kitchen counter, she left through the front door. She didn't even need to warm up. Her muscles burned and gave her an effortless spring so sharp and fast she felt as though she was flying. Though it was only late afternoon, a recent shower had left the ground wet and the skies overcast and bruised. Sunlight remained so scant that every puddle seemed only a shadow and was passed through mindlessly; but though the muddy rainwater stained her pristine white sneakers and darkened her black running pants, Sivanna only ran faster, seeing halos around her eyes and feeling cotton in her ears. Her steps matched her racing thoughts.

Broke. Inept.

Broke. Inept.

She was ruining her life— or what life she had left. And while the attachment to her husband had never been stronger, there was still something that nagged at her subconscious constantly, jarring her thoughts into something chaotic and nauseating and empty. Like she was constantly falling asleep but a loud noise she kept imagining woke her before she got truly comfortable.

Her feet hit the pavement harder. Faster.

Broke. Inept.

Broke. Inept.

She swung around a sign, not even noticing that she had already powered through town and was well on her way into the Shambles.

Broke. Inept. Broke. Inept. Broke. Inept.

She'd hardly seen him. In fact, she hadn't seen him. And that was some feat for an elf with better-than-perfect vision. But before Sivanna could react, she hit something hard and found her elbow being introduced politely to concrete while the rest of her limbs tangled with someone else's. As she waited for the wind to return to her lungs, Sivanna heard a groan from beneath her. Something soft tickled her nose as she lifted her head and opened her eyes. Surely enough, she discovered that she had knocked down"or, really, tackled some poor gentleman minding his own business, nearly ruining his expensive-looking suit. As she swung her head up to apologize profusely, however, her words caught in her throat.

For a Drow, he was stunning.

All of Sivanna's experience with Drow could not prepare her for the way this one looked. He was impeccably groomed, and had strong, masculine facial bones softened androgynously with the fine taper of delicate muscle and skin the color of the night sky after it snowed. His hair was fine"finer even than Sivanna's, and when his red gaze swooped up to her it was like he forged a fire into the cold steel of her eyes and instilled a sense of urgency.

He was handsome, yes, but those eyes told her he could be deadly.

"Forgive me," Sivanna mumbled uselessly, trying to dislodge her elbow from where it was pinned between the man's hard shoulders and the ground. When she wrenched it free at last, the pavement held onto the outermost layer of her skin and rendered her elbow and half of her forearm raw and bloody. The Drow watched her without comment, his jaw tight as though he were clenching his teeth.

"Forgive me," the cleric repeated, genuinely apologetic as she met his steady gaze. "I wasn't looking where I was going. I didn't mean' is there anything I can do for you?"

After the Drow took a moment to lick his lips and swallow, he raised his slender brows and spoke calmly, albeit tensely.

"Yes. It would be of immense help to me if you could, perhaps, kindly remove your knee."

Blinking, Sivanna looked down, horrified to find her knee buried in the tender space between the Drow's legs. She uttered a loud Elvish oath and quickly shifted to get up. The process eased more weight onto that sensitive area, prompting a quiet breath which contained a Drow oath she actually recognized. When she was standing at last, she sputtered apologies and offered to help him up. He politely took her hand, but rose with undisguised effort.

"I'm so very, very sorry," Sivanna repeated again, ruefully taking in his condition and the state of his suit. She didn't even want to think about what kind of condition his valuables beneath it were in.

"Quite all right, I assure you," the Drow replied most kindly. His eyes ticked down to her elbow, which had begun bleeding freely and making a mess of her white top. "If you'll come inside, we can help you with that," he informed her.

"Inside?" Sivanna repeated, confused. In response, the man gestured elegantly to the building right beside them, where a large sign that read 'Shambles Clinic' hung. The building was a small, tidy thing"nothing compared to the size of Riverview"but still appeared clean enough and put together. The cleric turned back to her victim and regarded him in subdued interest. "You work here?"

After dusting off his dark hands on what Sivanna could only imagine were designer suit bottoms, he extended his hand. "Forgive me; in all the excitement, I believe I have forgotten my manners." He offered her a smile that was utterly urbane and charming, completely at odds with almost anyone's perception of the Drow. "Mataru Frondaya. I'm the director of this clinic."

Stunned and dazed, Sivanna took his hand and squeezed it gently. "Sivanna Cyredghymn, Public?" She stopped, thinking quickly. She wasn't a Public Relations Director anymore. "Sivanna Cyredghymn, public admirer."

Though she had never heard of Shambles Clinic before then, and though Sivanna was confident her dishonesty showed on her face, Mataru was kind enough to ignore it. "Well, Miss Cyredghymn, if you would like to accompany me?"

Sivanna regarded the handsome Mataru for a moment longer, then the Shambles sign, then her muddied shoes. She wasn't in the best condition for such a spontaneous decision. But she held onto too much vain hope that asking out loud would get rid of that terrible knot in her stomach.

"Mr. Frondaya," she addressed him, stiffening her spine to give her best professional impression, despite that she'd a ring of sweat around the collar and 'sleeves' of her tank top, she was bloodying its hem, and her upswept hair had escaped its clip, wild and disheveled.

Mataru only regarded her politely, never letting on if he was uncomfortable or put off by her appearance. "Yes, Miss Cyredghymn?"

"I was wondering?" The cleric's eyes ticked back to the sign of the clinic.

If she couldn't help herself, maybe helping someone else would help her.

"I was wondering if you were hiring."