Long and early mornings gave Katarina the chance to be home early and have an opportunity to relax at home before returning to the theatre or staying in to greet Locke when he came home. Today was one of the days where she would return just to give her mind the opportunity to blank out on another unremarkable day.

She was just in the process of frowning slightly at her reflection with her leotard still on when she heard the comm ring downstairs. Not wanting to miss the call, she didn't bother to change or cover up and she went down the stairs and towards the comm. A curious brow rose when "Taylor Family" appeared on the screen, before she pressed the button to accept the call, "Hello?"

The instant Katarina answered, Eavan's face filled the screen. Her green eyes were rimmed with red, like she had been crying, and her auburn-reddish hair was unkempt. She immediately began to speak, even faster than usual and with panic making her voice shrill. "Katarina? Is Locke there? I need to talk to him. Liam's in the hospital. He collapsed at work!" The words came out in one breath, and having gotten them out, she looked on the verge of tears again.

"Oh, Eavan." Katarina's face showed her dismay at her future family's distress, "Locke's a' work. Wha' happened ta Liam? Is he gonna be alrigh'?"

"Th-th-they don't know!" Eavan sniffed, and reached down out of the comm's frame to retrieve a tissue. She dabbed at her eyes, then blew her nose, and disappeared from view for a second, before reappearing sans Kleenex. "Arnand and Raina are at the hospital now, but he's...not waking up. They're running tests but they can't figure it out!"

Katarina didn't know how to process the information. It was numbing to her senses, but she felt the grief and worry deep down in her gut. Instead she rubbed her naked face with her hands briefly. She didn't mention the upcoming wedding -- surely, Eavan did not need the reminder, "Wha' kin I do? I kin try to get Locke outta work early, an' get 'im here."

"Please." Eavan touched the screen momentarily, then realized she couldn't reach across the comm connection to touch Katarina, and removed her hand from it. She sat still with her hands folded in her lap, but her nerves got the best of her, and she started smoothing out her skirt, for lack of anything else to do. "Please do that for me?"

"Yeah Eavan, I'll get him home and here." Katarina was careful to pronounce her words properly, to show the importance of them. Her hand reached out to touch the screen too, knowing that there was not nearly enough comfort in the gesture.

Eavan sniffled again, then, seeing Katarina's hand on screen, she smiled wanly and touched the screen again. "Thank you, Katarina. I don't know if there's a comm in the hospital or not, but I'll send the number to you if they do have one."

"I'll take care of it. You should be there for him." Katarina felt her voice waiver and threaten to crack, and she cleared her throat, "I'll get in touch with ya when I have him."

"Alright. Thank you again." Eavan felt fresh tears welling in her eyes, and rather than let Katarina see her cry, she abruptly disconnected the call.

A slow nod of agreement, she tried to study the background that Eavan was in, "Is there anythin' we kin do? Ya thin' talking ta th' folks migh' help?"

"I think- I think they need to. Even if it's just to give them a break from watching him." Eavan attempted a smile, but it was weak and strained her features.

"Yeah well..." she pursed her lips slightly, thinking of the last time she had spoken to Locke's mother. It's wasn't pleasant, "If ya'd pass us along ta them, then?"

"Sure. Let me go get them." Eavan disappeared from the frame, and the plain beige walls of the room she had been using to call Locke and Katarina turned sideways. A couple of minutes later, Eavan stepped back into the frame, and repositioned the comm so that Arnand and Raina were in the picture. Arnand's eyes were ringed with dark bags, and Raina's face was flushed red from crying.

"Mr. and Mrs. Taylor," any resentment she might have held for Locke's mother was momentarily set aside when she saw the pain and worry in their expression, "is there anythin' we kin do for you?"

"I..." Raina started to speak, but trailed off, so Arnand stepped in for her.

"There's always prayer, Katarina. If nothing else, pray?"

"Of course, father." Locke still felt slightly funny saying the word, but he was slowly growing comfortable with it. "Anything else?"

"I do not know how long it would take you to travel up here, but..." Arnand now found himself unable to finish. His words were daggers in Locke's heart. More than anything, he wanted to go, and yet, his punishment required he stay in the city. It was so painful a thought, that Locke had to step off camera to try and compose himself.

Katarina's heart sank too. She didn't have the opportunity to tell Locke of the latest production, and it's new time restrictions, "We will do th' bes' we can, yeah? We ar' there for 'im 'n every other way."

Somehow, after he made his way back in front of the comm, Locke managed to croak out a response. "We'll try."

Arnand seemed to accept the statement, but Raina looked wounded by it. She opened her mouth to speak, and then shut it, before burying her face in Arnand's shoulder.

"Come on, love," Arnand said, as he held her close and massaged her shoulders. "We should go home and get some rest. We'll be spending a lot of time here, it seems. Thank you, Locke, Katarina, for your support. We- we're going to hang on to this comm until- well, you know." Arnand tipped his chin up, trying to project strength. "Please, do not hesitate to call us, day or night, either here or at our home comm."

"O' course, an' ya know our lines ar' jist as opened. Please, keep us updated?" The unspoken words and thoughts weighed almost just as heavy as the news of the afternoon. She tried to ignore it, and put up the most stable front that she could.

Arnand nodded as he stood, partially disappearing from view. "Sorry," he said, ducking back into frame. "We will." He managed to force a smile for them. "Take good care of each other."

"Yeah," she wanted to sneak a glance to Locke, but instead simply nodded, "Always. Take care." And before things could get too painful, she reached over to the comm to kill the connection.

Physically, Locke wasn't tired, but the day's events had left him emotionally ravaged, to the point where it took him a moment or two longer than it should have to look away from the blank comm screen. He seemed only dimly aware of his surroundings, as he wandered towards a chair at the dining room table and took a seat.

She slowly followed Locke to the dining room, and took a seat next to him. She was trying to read his feelings, see what he needed and what he didn't, "Kin I get you something?" It was a quiet question.

"I-I don't know." He slowly turned to look at her. "Water, I suppose?"

"Yeah, sure." She played it safe and leaned over to kiss his cheek before standing and making her way to the kitchen. It was an absent movement of muscle memory to grab a glass and fill it up water. She tried to work her mind away from numbness to something more helpful. Returning to her seat, she placed the water in front of him.

When she had returned, he had removed his jacket and draped it over the back of his chair, and loosened his red striped tie. "Thank you." He sipped from the glass, set it back down, and faced her directly again. "What should we do?"

"I dunno yet." She glanced down, noticed that she was still in her leotard, and sighed with mild irritation. "I haven' had th' chance ta tell you yet, bu' th' Shanachie Theatre is guest starrin' me an' a coupla o' otha people fra th' troupe ta be 'n there ballet production a' th' end o' th month. I don't.. I don't know if I'm gonna hav' the chance ta go ou' to Liam."

It was another one of those precious weekend mornings - a Saturday, to be precise - and Locke was relaxing in the living room with one of the city's daily newspapers. He wasn't reading the front page, or the news section, or sports, or entertainment. No, he had the "Comics, Puzzles, and Games" section in hand. Drafting pencil in hand, and eraser between his teeth, he was staring at a Sudoku grid, brow furrowed.

Saturday or not, Katarina returned to the theatre diligently in the morning for at least a few hours. She kept her tights black and her leotards long to keep her bruises hidden. They were quite colorful and looked a lot worse than how they felt. Now though Katarina was home, clean and refreshed. As long as her skirt reached past her knees, she wasn't too concerned with just one visible bruise on her elbow. Coming down the stairs, she spotted Locke on the couch and grinned. She couldn't see his face or what he was working on, but it was rather predictable, "Yer face is gonna stay lik' tha', yanno."

He removed the eraser from his mouth and stuck his tongue out, though he didn't look in her direction, making it difficult to tell if he was sticking it out at her or just intensely concentrating. He set the paper flat on the coffee table and filled in an 8 in the center-left grid. Then, he looked up. "Oh, I suspect so. How was the theatre?"

"The same. Uneventful. Jist.. needed th' stretch, yeah?" A soft smile, she moved to sit on the couch next to him. She leaned forward to observe his progress, "Gotten pretty far."

"Just the one number thus far. It's much tougher than I expected it to be. I'm trying something new this morning." His eyes lit up like a light-bulb, and he quickly filled in horizontal row going through the center grids with numbers. He grinned, then leaned over to kiss her on the cheek.

"Oh, new strategy?" Her smile widened from his affectionate gesture, "Ar' ya gonna tell me?"

"Hmm?" He jotted in a few more numbers as soon as he turned back to the grid. "I guess it's like a crossword for numbers. They set up these grids with numbers from 1-9, and put some of the numbers out there, then you have to figure out how to fill in all the gridded areas and rows with those numbers without repeating in the row or the grid."

She watched him fill in the gaps, resting her chin on her left hand while her right arm rested in her lap, "Looks like yer doin' pretty shiny." In truth, it did not interest her much, but if it was something interesting and new to him, it was worth it.

He'd just written in a couple more numbers, filling in the entire center row of grids, when the comm began to rang. A nervous pit formed in his stomach, as he hastily set down his pencil and went in to answer it. Seeing the number of the portable comm they had procured for Eavan, Arnand, and Raina, he immediately tapped the button that answered it. "Hello?"

The screen showed Liam's room, with Liam sitting up in the background. He was still hooked up to several IVs and tubes, but his eyes seemed to be open. Eavan and Arnand sat a little closer to the front of the screen in armchairs, while Raina stood beside the bed. "Hello, Locke," Arnand said. "We have news on Liam."

"He's come to!" Eavan said. Locke stifled a chuckle that didn't feel appropriate for the situation's gravity.

"I can see that," Locke replied. "Recently?"

"Earlier today," Eavan said, flashing a bright smile that had been all too rare for her recently. The red was out of her eyes, but wisps of hair still fell in her eyes from the messy ponytail she had tied, and she was wearing less makeup than she had been when she'd call before - or usually wore.

Katarina was quick to follow on Locke's heels to the comm. There was a heavy pit in her stomach that she didn't realize was there until Locke answered the comm. It didn't go away with the visual proof of Liam's open eyes, but still she was able to smile for Eavan, "Tha's fantastic!" She wasn't sure if Liam could see, but she wove her arm around anyway, "Is there any news?"

Liam put up a 'thumbs-up' in the background, but didn't speak. "He's a little worn out, but that part is over, thank goodness," Eavan said.

"Also, the test results are back." Arnand's face was set in a grim line.

"Melamin, are you sure we should be telling them?" Raina called out from the background, though her voice was still soft enough to make it hard to catch every word. "We don't know for certain-"

"Love, it is as certain as any medical diagnosis can be," Arnand said, half-turned away from the screen. Eavan began twisting her hands in her lap. "And considering the number of tests they have run, and the number of doctors who have poked and prodded him-"

"Amin rangwa*," Raina said, returning her attention to her bedridden son.

"Right-o. His kidneys are failing, and he has also been having difficulties breathing. They will need to remove his kidneys, and he will need to go on dialysis. But that is only a temporary solution." Arnand reached for one of Eavan's hands and gave it a friendly squeeze, as her eyes dropped down to look at the floor.

------------
*I understand

The nights still felt cool and crisp, but by the time Katarina was almost home, her jacket was no longer needed. As soon as she turned her nanites on, everything felt comfortable once more. Still, she left the jacket on for appearance sake.

Once reaching the porch, she paused to cover her mouth for a yawn before reaching for the door. Evening performances required late nights and her body had not quite caught up to the change. Brushing some of the fine hair that escaped her bun out of her face, she reached for the door to find it unlocked. "Hello?" It was a usual call even though she knew Locke was home and awake, judging by the amount of lights on.

"I'm in here," Locke called out from the living room. He was seated on the couch, a stack of papers to the right of where he was sitting and a solitaire spread in front of him. From the looks of things, he had only gotten one or two moves into his game.

Removing her jacket, she replaced her ballet bag over her shoulder and moved into the living room. A slight but warm smile grew when she saw him, "Hey," this greeting was softer and more intimate as she leaned down to give his cheek a kiss. Glancing down to the cards, she pointed, "Ya kin move there."

Locke let a dazed expression cross over his face after the kiss to the cheek, and he rubbed the spot as if he had been struck there, before winking and grinning over his shoulder at her. "Right you are!" He shifted the card from one stack over to another, humming a few quick bars of an upbeat song.

"O' course I am." She seemed offended by the idea that she wasn't, before straightening. "Gonna pu' my stuff 'way, an' then maybe if you're nice 'nough, I'll help ya, yeah?" Not that he needed her assistance, but she teased just the same. It was a quick trip, really just dropping her bag off by the door of her bedroom before coming back down the stairs again.

In the time it took her to put her bag away, Locke had made some significant progress on his game. Three of the four Aces were out, with Twos on top of two of the Aces, and he'd gotten a King moved over. When she came back down, he casually tapped the stack of papers that were sitting by the cards. "These are the results of our tests." How he was able to keep his emotions in check at that moment, when he so frequently seemed to lose control of them, was a mystery.

Taking a seat next to him, his words erased a large portion from the merriment on her face. "Oh?" She stole a glance to his face as she reached for the stack of papers, and paused, "Did ya read them 'lready?"

"Yes." With that, Locke gathered up the half-finished game of solitaire, shuffled the deck of cards thoroughly, and placed them back in the box. "Do you want to read them for yourself, or shall I spoil it for you?"

She glanced down at the stack, noticed that her name was on top. It was able the only thing she immediately understood with the way her nerves started, "Tell me."
"I match on blood type, tissue, antibodies, and I passed the physical exam. And...I'm the only one between you, me, Arnand, mum, and Eavan." He tapped the stack again, as if indicating 'it's all there'.

Her breath came out as a whoosh as her mind took several moments to process the simple information. It was both good and bad, bringing relief and a hint of fear. "Ya seem ta be holdin' up well." It was the only comment that she could make and feel certain about it. There were too many uncertainties that she wasn't ready to bring voice to.

He shrugged his shoulders, sighing deeply. "I'm not even sure it matters that I'm a positive match for him. I can't travel up to Port Leicester to have the transplant done, and...I read up on it a scoch. I'd need to take at least a month off from work, possibly two. There's no bloody way the bank will let me do that, even if they hate my fruits."

She frowned slightly, "I dun see how tha' works. If they dun care fer ya much, wouldn' ya bein' 'way make everythin' back to sorts?" She shrugged slightly, "An' ya dun even hav' tha' much time lef'. Nah 'nough ta make much a difference, I thin'."

"I don't know. I don't know why they do anything they do." The strong fa?ade crumbled, leaving him resting his head in his hands briefly, before looking back to her. "But you know I would go to jail for this."

She paused, "Meanin' tha' if ya break th' agreemen' you'll go ta jail, er tha' yer gonna do it an' break th' agreemen', regardless o' th' consequences?"

"I mean..." He sighed again. "I don't know. I love you, and I don't want to leave you for anything, but I love my brother too, and I don't want him to die because of red tape and blokes' unwillingness to let the past be past, to let bygones be bygones, to admit that a man can change and be reformed. Is that not a worse sin?"

"Locke, it dun hav'ta be tha' black 'n white. We haven' talked ta th' bank, an' yer parole officer knows somethin's up. Maybe there's a medical bi' tha' kin help us ou', er we can come ta a differen' agreemen'." She placed a hand on his shoulder, "It's nah 'bout pickin' yer family ova me, er th' other way 'round. We're all 'n it togetha, an' it's gonna stay tha' way."

The arrival of hot weather had driven Locke to wear sweaters recently, since the wool held in the cold magic that kept him alive and healthy better than cotton or lighter fabrics. Today's sweater was a multi-colored riot, a serape pattern with stripes of various widths and colors cutting across it horizontally. Compared to that, the black trousers and dress shoes he wore were the height of conservative dress.

Thanks to his parole officer, Locke had been able to take a half-day of work at the bank, and meet up with Katarina after lunch to head over to Dr. Bartha's office. Having the rest of the afternoon off, Locke decided to walk there. "...so, as you can imagine, I'm sick to bleeding death of anything even remotely resembling those big, boxy, ugly, conservative business suits those banker chaps all wear. So bloody predictable. I don't even have to look at a calendar to know what day it is with a lot of these blokes. Monday is navy suit day, Tuesday is charcoal suit day, Wednesday is gray suit day..." Locke, realizing he'd been rambling and complaining about work, suddenly blushed and apologized. "Terribly sorry. Just letting off steam, savvy?"

Katarina's smile was forgiving, "Afta all th' times 've complained 'bout th' Count er Christine, yer jist catchin' up ta me, yeah?" As they walked up to Dr. Barta's office, she absently pulled her cardigan closer around her. The nanites made long sleeves in warmer weather easy to manage, "So," she waited until Locke opened the office door for her before teasing over her shoulder, "I take it tha' there's no casual Fridays?"

"Business 'casual'," he said, making air quotes with a roll of his eyes, "means instead of wearing a power suit, you wear a sportcoat and nice trousers. If you're daring, you lose the tie. No one loses the tie." After holding the door open and letting her step inside, he did the same, smiling for the receptionist. "We have a 2 p.m. appointment for Dr. Barta?"

The receptionist took a few moments to look over a datapad, scribbling something on it before looking back up and smiling at Locke. "Mr. D'Vestavio?" Locke nodded. "I will let her know you have arrived."

It was a minute and the door between the waiting room and the hall that had the doorways to examination rooms as well as Dr. Barta's private office was opened. Dr. Barta herself was there holding that door open. The hallway beyond was quiet, and her smile was pensive but warm. "Please, come in."

Katarina's smile was warm and pleasant for Dr. Barta as she followed her through the hall into her private office. Dr. Barta was someone that she trusted and found to be rather knowledgeable with Locke's particular boundaries. Her successful nanites only affirmed Katarina's decision.
"Hope tha' everythin's been real shiny for ya, Dr. Barta." Another smile as she took a seat.

With a gesture, she offered either of them drinks from a tray set upon a side cabinet. Water, tea, and coffee looked like the limit to the offerings. "Yes, things are going well." She almost asked the same, but considering why they were here and the way Katarina was looking wan and unhealthy, she refrained.

Locke took some water with a bright "Thank you." As usual, he had a big, bright grin on his face, but it was clear by his posture that there was some nervousness in him - particularly after he sat down. Every half-minute or so, he'd tap a soft, arrhythmic pattern on the arm of his chair. He caught himself doing it, sent Katarina a sheepish look, then drank some of the water.

She took her seat behind the desk and looked over the monitor screen one moment before looking back to the couple. "I have been reviewing the information you sent me on the case. The tests look very clear, and the diagnosis does present this as a critical case. Is there more that either of you can or wish to tell me?"

Katarina declined the beverages, and tried to discreetly stretch out each leg before sitting comfortably once more. The question had her looking over to Locke briefly. She was there for support and concerns of her own, but when it came down to the details, she was not as well-versed as him.

"Other than the fact that it's odd that we match for everything even though his general body temperature is much warmer than mine?" He couldn't help but sigh. In the rush of the moment, when he had first realized he was a match for his brother, he hadn't even considered it. It was only later, after having time to chew on it, that he realized it might be a problem.

She could appreciate that sigh, and it was only the years of practiced professionalism that kept her from giving one of her own. "Generally, one would think such an extreme difference would show in these tests; however, if the reason is restricted to a select group of chromosomes, it is possible the tests would dismiss it. Most of them are broad spectrum tests to find any and all possible candidates. We," she smiled at the couple, "simply have to find a way to resolve this last hurdle. Time will not allow growing another kidney, nor a further search for a donor. This I understand too well. So, let us see what technology can provide."

She tapped through a few screens on the monitor. "Your brother, Liam, is already on dialysis, yes?"

"Yes. They said something along the lines of his being on dialysis for an extended period of time would throw a spanner in the works - make the transplant last less time, or some such malarkey?" Locke scratched his head. He'd been bombarded with medical information over the past several days, from his mother and step-father, from Eavan, from the books and articles he'd been reading in his spare time. It was all one big jumbled mess.

"It can corrupt the natural functions of the connective tissue, true. We have more than just the problem of altering the tissue so it is compatible with his internal temperature. The time it will take to make this alteration makes keeping the tissue viable something of a concern as well. I cannot start the process inside you, and outside of the body, the tissue starts to decay. Keeping it cool, is its natural state, so cooling it will not slow the tissue decay at all." She was being open and honest about the process she was having to consider.

"Katarina, are you having any difficulty with your nanites?"

A small smile appeared, "None a' all. They're 'n tip-top shape." Her hands folded and found rest on her lap since she couldn't find anything else to do with them.

The RhyDin City Guard?s Parole & Probation Department was located on the same street as the RhyDin Courthouse and Town Hall, but it was miles away when it came to appearances. The rebuilt courthouse took up most of the block, had a fountain and courtyard in front of it, and stood as an anchor of the northeast portion of the Marketplace District with its neo-classical architecture. In contrast, the parole office sat in an old retail space that had been abandoned in the aftermath of the courthouse bombing, tucked out of sight at an intersection of a minor street and sitting in the shadow of the courthouse?s majesty. The severely damaged parts of the building had been fixed, but black soot still stained red bricks on the side of the building closest to the courthouse, and some of those bricks bore signs of hasty masonry repair. It stood in odd contrast to the well-designed (and expensively built) law offices that dominated the rest of the neighborhood, and chances were that if the guard had not purchased the building from its previous owner, a law firm likely would have, knocking over the building and putting up a pristine, glass-dominated single-story office in its place. Whether or not this would have been a good thing or a tragedy depended on how long one had lived near the neighborhood.

Locke?s past and present experiences with the legal and criminal justice systems in RhyDin had given him a healthy disdain for the neighborhood. The lawyers dressed well ? at least, those lawyers who weren?t working as public defenders ? but they never seemed to carry themselves like they knew it, or cared. They talked on comms and cell phones about their latest cases, what fancy restaurant they were returning from lunch from, or the newly elected and selected governor and governor?s advisory council, respectively. There was no love or appreciation for aesthetics ? just money, power, and prestige. Not to mention the large contingency of city guardsmen, and the occasional judge sighting to remind Locke of how badly he had screwed up.

With a tired sigh, Locke pushed open the door to the parole department and gave his name to the desk sergeant seated in the reception area. The office was barren and bland, with beige carpeting, white walls, the tall reception desk, two armchairs with wood arms, and a small end table between them loaded down with back issues of RhyDin Geographic. He picked one of the magazines up with another sigh, this one exasperated. If previous visits were any indication, he was going to be waiting a while.

Twenty minutes later, Locke heard the door to the back offices open. He looked up to see the familiar face of Officer John Papavero, his probation officer. He wore a brown suit with a blue dress shirt and beige checked tie. He?d put on a few pounds since he had bought the suit, or last had it altered: the buttons on the coat bulged out a little more than they should have around the belly. His black hair, turning gray at the temples, was buzzed military-short, and he sported a bushy moustache of the same color. Upon seeing Locke, he smiled and went over to shake the ice elf?s hand.

?Good to see youse, Locke. What brings youse here??

?Can we go back to your office to talk?? Locke asked, his gaze darting around the waiting room.

?Sure, sure. Follow me.? John opened the door back up and entered, followed by Locke. They passed two sets of doors on the left before stopping in front of the third set, which had a plaque with Officer Papavero?s name on it. He opened the door and ushered Locke in with his other hand. An armchair similar to the ones in the waiting room sat in front of a desk piled high with papers and empty Styrofoam coffee cups . Seated, Officer Papavero head barely was visible over the stack. ?Now what did youse need??

?I need your help. I-?

?Another doctor?s visit?? John interrupted. ?Notta problem. I?ll send word to the bank, and youse?ll be off the hook in no time.?

?No, officer- er, not quite. It?s a little bit bigger than another appointment.? Locke rubbed at his eyes, then his temples, massaging them in little circles.

?Yeah??

?Yeah,? Locke echoed, though his accent was twangier than John?s. ?You?re probably wondering why I?ve needed all these doctor?s appointments.?

?Well, sure, but the law says that ain?t my business. Youse got a legal right to privacy, unless you been breaking laws or somethin?, which I don?t think youse?ve been doing. Every doctor note I?ve got so far says youse been there for health reasons, and not to get outta work.?

?Right-o. Well, obviously, there was a reason, but I suspect it is not the reason you think. I?m not sick. My brother is. Exceedingly ill, in fact. The reason I have been seeing a doctor lately is to check if I am a match for my brother to donate an organ to him. And I am, but there is a problem.?

?Which is?? John leaned forward momentarily, obscuring part of his face from view, and then leaned back into sight. His eyebrows were lifted slightly, his mouth partly open in a surprised ?o?.

?Being that he is exceedingly ill, he cannot travel to the city to have the transplant done here, where I am. And I,? Locke lifted up his leg high enough for John to see, and rolled up his pants enough for him to see his monitoring anklet, ?cannot leave the city to have it done there.?

?Ahhh. I see where youse?re going with this. Well?we?ll just have to see what we can do. After all, I gotta take care of the best probationer I?ve ever had.?

?Yeah??

?Yeah. Scout?s honor. C?mon, let?s get to work on this. Between the two of us, there?s gotta be something we can do.?

Summer, R.S.C. 2011

The meeting with Locke, his probation officer, the officer's supervisor, and officials from the bank left the ice elf spent emotionally. It was going to strain his finances, but he hailed a carriage and immediately slumped against the cushioned seat after stepping inside. It had taken every ounce of willpower and restraint to behave properly, to let his advocates in the probation department work their magic, but even so, the process was mentally exhausting. Listening to the bank argue that he was a certain repeat offender and barely competent at his work, and not being able to reach across the desk and throttle the officials by their ties, had him grinding his teeth much of the time. Still, when all was said and done, Locke had his release, and he had hugged Officer Papavero and the man's supervisor in an emotional outburst. Both said it was the first time they could ever recall a probationer hugging his officer.

The hug hadn't been enough to check his roiling emotions. He glanced down at his suit, his damnably bland businessmen's banker's suit. He didn't want to wear it a second longer than he had to. In a series of quick, violent motions, he undid his tie and stuffed it in his pocket, then unbuttoned the buttons of his coat, shrugged out of it, and folded it over his arm. Lastly, he unbuttoned the top two buttons on his dress shirt, revealing just a little bit of his chest. He was mid-way through slipping his belt off through the loops on his pants when he heard the slat sliding open between him and the drive. He fumbled with the belt quickly.

"Sir, we've arrived."

"Er, thank you most kindly." Locke paid through the slot, then opened the carriage door and stepped onto the street. As he walked up to the sidewalk and the porch of his house, he began undoing his belt once more.

The warm sun of near summer keep the evening from being too cold, and Katarina had used the opportunity to keep her nanites off to recharge and rest on the porch. She sat and waited anxiously for Locke to return home, telling herself over and over again that she needed to be honest with him. Nervous and anxiety bundled and coiled in her middle until she thought she might be sick. Still, she stubbornly waited and tried to relax her mind.

Seeing Locke come on the sidewalk and up on the porch, she gave a small smile, "Hey." Once given the opportunity for a longer study, she rose a brow at the unusual lack of completed ensemble from the ice elf, "Uncomfortable?" The thought had her turning on her nanites with his arrival.

"I don't have to wear this damned suit at that damned bank ever again, and I couldn't wait to take it off." Seeing her, he abandoned his attempts to remove his belt, leaving it hanging half-on and half-off, and rushed up to the porch to hug her tightly. His suitcoat fell onto the grass, but he paid it no mind.

Distracted by his tight embrace, it took her a moment to fully comprehend what Locke was saying, "Ya dun hav'ta go back?" It was a moment where pure happiness erased the dark shadows of her thoughts and she laughed warmly,squeezing him with near all her might, "Locke, tha's fantastic!"

?Yeah. I didn't know about this until I met with my probation officer, but there are apparently obligations they were supposed to fulfill that they hadn't. Between that, and the very clear evidence they didn't even want me around...*Amin naa leitha.* " He kissed her cheek, then slowly and softly kissed down to her chin, before brushing his lips against hers.

She returned the kiss with gentleness, and it helped in leveling out her own whorl of feelings. "I'm real happy fer ya." She rested her forehead to his and brushed his nose with hers, "Outta a place tha' dun make ya feel righ' - it's a step closer ta wha' ya wan', yeah?"

He giggled when she brushed her nose against his, and it momentarily distracted him from responding to her question. "It is. There are still roadblocks, but - I think I can face them now." He sighed, and let himself relax, let the nervous rigid posture slip away. "I thought it cliche, but it really does feel like someone has taken the world off of my shoulders now."

"Minor roadblocks, I'd say." Leaning back, she cupped his face gently with her hands, "As far as 'm concerned, ya made it through, yeah? And 'm real proud an' happy fer ya."

"I'm happy, and...God, I'm so happy we made it through this." His eyes dropped down and to the side to look at the wooden porch for a moment, before looking back at Katarina's.

It was enough to make her smile falter as guilt dropped quick and heavy in her middle. Locke had no idea how she had barely made it through, and that her struggle was not over. She didn't try to erase the guilty look on her face as she looked away. Moving her head away from his to rest on his shoulder, the arms around his waist tightened and gathered some of his shirt in her hands as she started to cry quietly.

*"I am free"

Katarina studied Locke's determined look rather than examine his words, and gave a slight nod of her own, "Well, anythin' ya need ta share?" She held out her hands palms up, "I've put ou' everythin' I've held back."

"I read your medical report, from the transplant tests. There weren't specifics, or if there were, they were coded in medical mumbo-jumbo, but I saw the part that said you weren't physically fit to donate. I...was waiting for you to say something at the time." His head dropped down and to the right with the guilty admission.

She sighed gently, "Yeah, I figured as much. I'm nah mad tha ya did." She tried to clarify to help his guilty look, "An'... an' it's nah like I kin hide it well 'round th' person I live wit', though truth be told I gav' it my bes' shot."

"I didn't press you, for...many, many reasons. That's not important, now, I suppose." He looked up, determination shining in his eyes. "What is important is...what do we do next? What do you do next?"

"I don't know." It seemed to be the same phrase that she was repeating over and over again. "I know tha' a'lot o' it is 'cause o' my worry an' stress. An'... hopefully now wit' ya nah havin' ta go to th' bank, an' knowin' tha' it's almos' ova... tha' will help?" There was another long sigh, "Dr. Barta suggested a' appetite-enducing drug bu'.. Lor' an' Skies, I dun trust th' thin's. An' I'll hav' a whole peck-a problems if anymore people a' th' troupe notice, or if I hav' a' episode tha' people see."

"What about..." Locke's fingers drummed against the side of his head. "therapy? Is there anything like that, you suppose?"

"Yeah, I 'pose there's tha'." She was looking down to the ground again, "I'll see if Dr. Barta has'a reference list she kin give me tomorrow."

"...do you think we need that as well?" He pawed at the wooden plats of the porch with his foot, eyes nervously cast towards the ground.

There was an obvious, if small, shake of her head, "No, I dun think so. I was scared ta hurt ya more, an' tha's why I didn' say anythin'.. though sayin' it later seemed ta hav' th' same effect. An'... ya hav' a hard time wit' fully trustin'.. well, anybody. Seems to me like they're individual thin's we gotta sor' ou', yeah? If there's on' thin' I know, it's tha' through all of it - the nanites, th' bank, yer house arres', my problems - none o' them make me feel like leavin' yer side, yeah?" There was a slight, half-smile, "Dun need anybody ta tell me tha' we kin work it ou'. I 'lready know tha'."

"Good." He slipped beside her and put an arm around her waist. "It's more difficult than I imagined, but more rewarding than I could have ever dreamed."

She wasn't sure how she felt about that statement, and so she rose a brow that inquired for more, "Rewarding? How are ya gaining anythin' ya didn' hav' before?"

"Er, that is to say...being in love is like that. More difficult than I was led to believe, but more rewarding than even those fairytale endings, savvy?" He gave her a squeeze with his arm, then winked at her.

"Yeah? Ya promise me tha'?" She turned to face him more and looked at him with serious eyes, "All o' our relationship has had obstacles an' trails tha' hav' seem never-endin' until recently. Yeah, we've been there fer each otha, an' there's no doub' 'bout tha'. Bu' there's thin's tha' we've had ta deal wit' fer th' otha person - ya an' me both. Being 'n love is still greater than all tha'?"

Her focused gaze took his breath away for a moment, and when he breathed in once more, it was a sharp, sudden inhalation. He listened intently, and when she was done speaking, he remained quiet, studying her face. Finally, after a half-minute that felt like a thousand years, he cupped her face with his hands, tilted his head, and kissed her. After the kiss, he leaned in closer, so that he could whisper in her ear. "Is that an acceptable answer, or does it require further elaboration?"

She didn't think she had the energy to cry again, but she certainly felt like it with the tenderness of his kiss. It didn't ease all of her worries and concerns, but it made them more bearable and kept them under control. There was only a small shake of her head to his question.

((Edited and adapted from live RP))

He stopped puckering once she had pressed her lips to his and tilted his head slightly. Slowly, he pulled back and whispered. "I prefer promises to threats."

She chuckled, and gave him another quick kiss before resting her arm against the back of her seat again, "Noted. Jist willin' ta give ya a friendly reminder tha' I'm yer bird if I hav'ta."

"Hopefully without any eye-pecking, or squawking." He nudged her with an elbow, then winked. "But I promise that I will not do anything foolish to risk life or limb without running it past you first. Savvy?"

"Savvy." She reached over with her other hand to retrieve her hat and place it back on her head, "Let's focus 'n th' more immediate obstacles before these ones, yeah? One step atta time, and we'll be all square an' shiny, promise."

"Certainly. It's not like there are not plenty of those before us." Locke quickly added on, "I'm not complaining or pouting, mind you, just stating the somewhat obvious." He stood up and stretched out, arms far out and above his head, back arched, until it seemed like the magenta and navy striped shirt he wore was going to burst at the buttons.

Obvious or not, she looked down at her nails while he stretched until she could sort of the feelings of reaction from his statement. "Yeah, I guess." Picking under her nails transferred to twisting the ring on her left hand, "Kinda feels tha' way a lot."

"But if you're the bird, then I'm the cat." Ending the stretch, he took a moment to think over his statement. "Sort of." Then, he shook his head. "Come to think of it, bird is sort of a curious term for a lady. Not a lot of good implications there." He paced in the cabin, then stopped and looked over his shoulder at her. "I'm overthinking it, aren't I?"

Her fingers stilled as her eyes watched him pace around the cabin, "A bi'." She paused to study him, and took a guess, "Anxious?"

"Very much so." Locke turned back around and plopped back into his seat. "And I am sure you can guess why."

"I kin." She lifted up the arm rest that was between them so that she could sit closer to him, "Bu' maybe talkin' 'bout it ou' loud migh' help."

"Maybe." He tossed his hands up, then settled them back in his lap. "At this point, it's all out of my hands. Right? I cannot guide the surgeon's hand, I cannot make my kidney any better than it already is, I cannot affect Liam's health."

"Yeah, yer righ' 'bout all tha'. Ain' anythin' else we kin do 'bout those thin's." She rested her hand against his cheek briefly, "Bu' we're so much betta off now then a' th' star', righ'? Liam's diagnosis coulda been worse, he dun hav'ta wait on a donor's lis'.. wit' everythin' else already so much betta, why would it stop now, righ'?"

"I suppose I am just used to waiting for something bad to happen. At least, in recent days. Sometimes, it seems hard to believe that what you said is actually happening. Things are starting to work out, things are starting to turn around, like when I first met you. I just...don't want the bottom to fall out again, like it always seems to. Savvy?"

"Yeah." She abruptly turned away to face the window again, "I thin' I know 'xactly how you feel. I hav' my worries too, yanno.. only they're much more selfish than yers. Bu' if I dun thin' 'bout how betta thin's ar', then all I do is fret an' worry, an' then I git this." a brief motion to her thin frame, "I kin't do tha' 'gain."

"I know." He turned so that he was seated behind her, wrapped his arms around her from the back, and rested his head on her shoulder. "I know." The second time, he said it quieter.

She was quiet for what felt like forever,waiting until she knew she would speak without wavering words, "I'm scared for you, that something might go wrong and.. and I'll lose you. I don't think I could go through that again." She glanced down at her ring, watched it glisten with the light from the window, "Before we even.. I don't think I could manage."

"But if I don't do this..." Tears started to well up in his eyes, and he was thankful she was facing the opposite direction. He wiped at his face with the sleeve of his shirt, before continuing. "I wouldn't be worthy of that."

She opened her mouth first to argue his point, but instead faced the first statement, "I'm nah suggestin' tha' ya back ou'." She cleared her throat and shifted, but kept close to his front, "I would neva suggest such a thin'. It dun make my fears any less. O' course 'm goin' ta be worried 'bout ya. My poin' was tha' I kin't jist think 'bout tha' and jist.." she shook her head and had to stop before that same fear clutched at her heart, "it kin't be tha' way, yeah?"

"Yeah." He leaned down, pressing a kiss against her shoulder. "It doesn't make any of it all go away, but I love you, Katarina."

She tried to look over her shoulder at him, "I love you too Locke. Somethin' fierce."

He was there, warm smile and all. Rather than respond with words, when she looked back at him, he moved in to kiss her.

She turned her body a bit more to wrap her arms around him and kiss him in return. The assurance of his cold body close to hers chased away most of the darkening thoughts of the days to come.

Delicately, Katarina took her time to unwrap the waxed paper around the salt water taffy before placing it in her mouth. She anticipated looks from his family about her thin appearance, and cardigans and visible sweets were her solution. Even now when the room was quiet save Locke's breathing and monitors, she kept up with the appearance.

Her anxiety and nerves have had a chance to wither and calm. She tried to fix her makeup to the best of her ability without having it near her. Eavan had helped to make her more at ease once more. And now with the small family waiting for Liam to wake, Katarina waited patiently.

Patience didn't stretch over to her quiet activity. The pencil made lazy circles in the top corner of the paper as she mumbled, "Anotha' word fer skill..."

Somehow, Locke seemed even stiller laying in that hospital bed than when he was sleeping. The IV attached to one of his arms pumped in cold Lactated Ringer's solution, while a clip on the index finger of his other hand monitored his vitals. The machine beeped slow and steady - almost too slow.

The first signs of his stirring were a faint moan, then the flickering of eyelashes as he struggled to open his eyes. He felt so tired...maybe it would best to sleep more. Still, his eyes struggled to open, as if weights had been attached to his lids.

She looked over her folded-over book at his noise and watched the rumor of movement on his eyelids. She looked up at the monitors, not understanding enough, only that nothing was beeping wildly or shrilling. She folded over the corner of her page and set the book on her lap. It wasn't the first movement he'd made, but it was more, and so she was hopeful.

Slowly, Locke turned his head to one side, seeing nothing but the curtains on the hospital room windows. Even more slowly, he lifted his head up and then turned to face the other direction. Spotting Katarina sitting in the chair, he smiled weakly, and spoke, his voice much quieter and scratchier than normal. "Kat..."

"Righ' here." She smiled warmly for him before gently placing her palm on his forehead to ease his head back down, "Nah need ta strain yerself." She scooted her chair as close to the bed as physically possible, "How ya feelin'? Doc promised tha' ya had 'nough pain killers ta nah be 'n much pain. Said ta push fer nurse if ya were."

Locke was too weak and on too much pain medication to do much to resist the push. He was also apparently too tired to say much more than one or two words at a time. "...Tired. But yes. No pain." His brow furrowed momentarily, concern flashing across otherwise tired eyes. "Liam?"

"Jist shiny. Recoverin' same as ya. Yer folks ar' all wit' him righ' now. Haven't heard if he's up er nah yet." The book was placed on an elaborate table that maneuvered around the bed and she grabbed the plastic cup of water sitting there. "Migh' help soothe yer throat a bit. Got it er want help?" She offered him the cup, but raised her brow.

"I think so." The hand without the clipped finger took the cup, holding it for a few moments before he lifted his head up to drink from it. It may have been the lighting, still harsh even in this room that was designed for patient comfort, but his skin seemed paler than usual, almost white. He took a very small sip and let the water wet his lips, before taking a slightly larger drink.

Pleased that he seemed well enough to at least be able to take a drink himself, her restless fingers played with the abandoned wax paper left on the arm of her chair as she watched him. He looked awful. She suddenly missed his mused hair and colorful ties that went on for days. But at least his eyes were brightening with awareness, and for now, she was content.

There was a quiet knock on the door, and a surprisingly chirpy male voice spoke up. "May I come in?"

Surprised and caught in her studying, she nearly jumped out of her chair. Clearing her throat, she composed herself, "Yeah, come'n."

The door opened, and the halfling doctor entered. Nearly half Katarina's height, if it weren't for the neatly trimmed beard and glasses he wore, he might have been mistaken for a kid playing doctor. "I'm Doctor Hilltopper," he said, holding out a hand for Katarina to shake. "I was the lead surgeon for Locke's portion of the transplant. How are you feeling, Locke?"

"Tired, doctor. But okay."

"Good," Dr. Hilltopper replied, turning to Katarina once again. "Now, Nurse Vartanian has met with you already?"

She was glad that she was already sitting down so that she didn't tower over him. A small smile as she shook his hand, she suddenly felt unversed, "Uh, yeah, bu' nah since th' one time."

"All right." Dr. Hilltopper looked at the machines, scribbling on a piece of paper attached to a clipboard he held in his other hand. "Hmm." He reached down to touch Locke's arm, then remembered at the last moment that Locke's skin was cold, and pulled his hand away. "Hmm. Locke, how does your belly feel?"

Locke's nose crinkled. "...Sore?"

"Mmm hmm. Well...this is very, very tricky, you know. Treating a patient with skin of frost and blood of ice. Very tricky indeed."

?I jist dunno, Ma. Doc said it was gonna be fine an' all, but goin' back unda 'gain, havin' ta open 'im back up..? Katarina shuddered visibly and it had her mother frown in the commlink. The hospital offered adjointed commlinks that did their best to offer a seat and some concealment. After informing Locke's family about his condition, she had dragged her body to the nearest commlink and sobbed the story to her family. She wasn't concerned with who was around her and could hear her, but instead took the the little comfort that was given by seeing her loved ones faces, even if just through a comm. It had taken lots of soothing from her parents to calm her down to a more reasonable level.

?If the doctor didn' seemed concerned, then neither should ya, yeah? Everythin'll work ou' jist righ'.?

?God, it has ta, it jist has'ta.? She rubbed her face vigorously and when she looked on the scene again, Lance had joined her mother. Family members had gone in and out of the conversation, save her mother. They shared quiet words that Katarina couldn't make out before her mother smiled, ?Ya let us know when he's out, shiny??

?Yeah.? She bravely held back a sniffle. She felt her calm wavering with the thought of them leaving, ?Love ya.?

?Love you too.?

Lance waited till Trisha was gone before sighing, ?Look, let's nah play 'round, righ'? I know why yer so scared. Tha' was outta yer control, an' so is this. Yer nah gonna lose Locke, he's a gorram trooper an' he'll come ou' 'n one piece.?

His direct approach to her fears made her close her eyes tightly and take a deep breath, ?I can't go through that, again, I can't.? She felt her throat tighten, ?There isn't enough of me left.?

?Look at me,? he waited till she did before he continued, ?you are the strongest soul I know. You will make it through it, and you will be a good wife-to-be and take good care of him when ya'll get home. Right??

She felt the tears come again, but she nodded her head vigorously, ?Yeah, I will.?

?Good, now go be wit' his folks. I'm sure they need ya too and dun know it.?

?I will. Love ya.? She ended the connection and sat in silence for several minutes. She wanted to be surrounded by her family, and couldn't be. She felt more homesick than ever, and instead needed to go and comfort Locke's family. She tried to gather all of her strength, and decided she needed a bit of a break before heading to Liam's room. She stood and stretched her neglected and tired muscles before wandering towards the waiting rooms.

Arnand was waiting in line at one of the coffee shops the hospital had tucked near the primary waiting area. He stood behind a heavily pierced young elvish couple and a middle-aged human woman in a floral print blouse and jeans. Arnand wore his usual khakis and penny loafers with a white dress shirt and black-and-white argyle sweater vest. Deep bags sat under his eyes, but he seemed to be holding up well otherwise, considering his son and step-son were both in the hospital still.

Katarina was struggling to keep herself moderately together. The comm conversation with her family, while helpful, made her emotions easily accessible. She stopped trying so hard to cover up her apparent crying. It was going to keep happening, and at this rate, she didn't care. She could only put up a strong front for Locke's family for so long.

Not that they would know the reasons for the depths of her fears. She put her shaking hands in the pockets of her skirt as she stopped that thought progression abruptly. She just couldn't handle it right now.

She was certain that she couldn't go and visit Liam right now and be able to express the true relief she felt for him. So instead she headed for something warm that she could put in her hands. She knew the coffee was terrible already, but it at least gave the appearance of functioning. Spotting Arnand in line, she almost turned around and walked away. Instead, she quickly wiped her fingers under her eyes and meekly stood next to him, "How's Liam doin'?"

Arnand looked over his shoulder as someone stood in line behind him, then smiled as he saw it was Katarina. "Good day, Katarina. Liam seems to be doing well thus far. No signs of rejection and no signs of infection as far as the doctors can tell. It seems to have gone as close to plan for him as these sorts of things do." Arnand's smile softened, though, as he thought of how much more difficult it had turned out for Locke, and by proxy, Katarina. "I am sorry to hear about Locke's complications, though I am to understand they are not too serious?"

"That's wha' they say." She didn't put in any hope or feelings past that, "Said it wouldn' be too long eitha. I'd imagine they'd be done nah too long fra now." Though it was hard to gauge how much time she spent on the comm with her family. She had stopped paying attention to the clock during the first procedure.

The barista was quick and efficient, and the customers ahead of Arnand had already ordered their drinks and dispersed elsewhere within the waiting room area. She smiled politely for Arnand. "May I take your order?"

"Earl grey tea, if you would be so kind, and whatever she-" He gestured back to Katarina. "-would like to order."

"Whateva coffee ya hav's fine, thanks." She wouldn't bother asking for anything to be put in it. Black would suit her just fine. She waited until the barista gave them their drinks before attempting conversation again, "Thank you."

"Not a problem, Katarina." He paid for the drinks, dropped a few copper coins in the tip jar, and thanked the barista, before stepping out of line so that other customers could be served and receive their drinks. He twirled the tea bag around in his cup, before taking a cursory glance at Katarina. "Forgive me if I'm being intrusive, but have you been holding up all right?"

Her chuckle came out as a puff of exhaled air, "Obvious, righ'?" She held the cup in both hands, "I'm.. previous experience makes me a li'l over sensitive when it comes ta Locke's health, yeah?" She looked down for a moment, "It's hard ta worry like mad an' nah hav' my family close by. We're all pretty close."

"Well, we'll all be family soon enough, even if it is not as soon as I imagine any of you planned. Have you talked with Eavan much since you arrived?" Arnand took a sip of tea, and made a slightly sour face.

Her mind had strayed away from wedding thoughts a long time ago. "Um, yeah, bu' nah 'bout.. anythin' like tha'. Think we're all a li'l preoccupied. An'.. I dunno, I didn' wan' ta brin' it up when I know tha' this has all interfered wit' their plans. Dun wan 'ta rub sore spots, yeah?"

"Certainly. Did you have a moment to check in on Liam?" Arnand was standing facing the direction he would have to walk to return to Liam's room in the infection-risk wing of the hospital.

She took a sip of the coffee, and didn't taste anything but felt the warmth. Her previous reasons for avoidance suddenly seemed insignificant. Liam was more or less another of her brothers, and when she gave her mind a break from her worry for Locke, she found the proper concern for Liam. "Um, yeah, I'd like that."

"Right-o." Arnand started walking towards Liam's room slowly, so Katarina could match his pace. "Fair warning, they want us to wash our hands and wear masks so as not to risk infection. Are you all right with that, Katarina?"

"Yeah." When she glanced down at her cup and saw it quiver from the movement of her hands, she bit on her bottom lip. "Well.." when tears came unexpectedly, she turned away in embarrassment before he could see them fall, "Bugger!" She tried to keep the crying out of her voice and was wiping her face only for more tears to replace them, "I'm sorry, I'm just..."

Arnand stopped walking momentarily, then gestured for Katarina to follow him towards a less public part of the waiting room area. Once there, he wordlessly tapped his shoulder.

She followed him helplessly before setting her barely touched coffee down and using his shoulder for a release of her emotions. Letting her social concerns go, she wrapped her arms around him and used the opportunity to cry to purge the remaining worries and fears from controlling her. It didn't make them go away, but it helped lessen their grip.

?All the tests had been finished, and all the paperwork had been completed. The nurse had stopped by for one final check-up and farewell, leaving just Locke and Katarina in the room that had been his home for far too many days. Before he could leave the cold and sterile room and get on the carriage that would take them to their airship, there was one last task he had to complete: remove his hospital gown and put on street clothes.

This was easier said than done. The stitches had healed enough for him to leave, but they still felt tight and pulled against his skin when he moved too much, or lifted his arm too high. For the first time in a long time, he felt shy and worried about being seen unclothed. To stave off his worry, he stalled. "You have my outfit, yeah?"

"Yeah, go' it righ' here." Katarina had been watching Locke with unyielding patience as they begun the final process for exiting the hospital. His usual blue hue had nearly returned, and the lessening of pain medication brought clarify to his eyes. He certainly looked thinner than she would have liked, but she knew that his weight would come back with his usual diet. Gently, she placed the small pile of clothing next to him and rose a brow, "Ya wan' help?"

"Please." Locke was trying his best not to be ashamed of his weakness and the new scar that was almost certainly forming out of those stitches, but he was still tired, if not fully doped up anymore. "Untie the ties behind my back on this gown, please?" He walked over to her and turned his blue back to her, showing where the strings tied together to cover his backside and the upper part of his legs.

"Sure thin'."She sympathized with his shame, and did not bring any attention to it. She remembered the time after her ankle surgeries, and how heavily she needed to rely on Locke for the most simple and complex tasks. Carefully, she untied the thin laces that held his hospital gown together, keeping one hand on the shoulder so that the gown didn't suddenly fall off.

He was grateful for her discretion, and for holding the gown against his body instead of letting it fall to the ground. Once he felt he had a firm grip on the papery garment, he picked up the pair of underpants and chinos and shuffled backwards toward the bed, carefully balancing the clothes and his hold on the gown. He sat down on the bed with relief, pulling on his boxers first and then his pants, leaving the gown draped across the foot of the bed. "Would you mind bringing the rest of my clothes over?" Locke asked, his tone clearly guilty.

"O' course." Again, Katarina didn't bring notice to the guilt that she could easy read in his face. Picking up the rest of his clothes, she easily walked over to him. "Dun stretch so much tha' th' stitches pull an' hur', shiny? Ain' worth it."

"Certainly," he said as he took the clothes, setting his belt and shoes off to the side near the pillows. He pulled his legs fully up onto the bed as he put on his socks, then reached over to grab his brown dress shoes and did the same with them. Once his socks and shoes were on, his feet went back to dangling over the bed, as he slowly threaded a brown belt through the loops. He was even slower and more careful as he put on a white V-neck t-shirt, then a pink button-up dress shirt. Once he was completely dressed, he shot a dirty look at the wheelchair the nurse had left behind. "...is that quite necessary? Even if I have to lean against you the entire bloody way, I would like to leave with some shred of dignity, Katarina."

She watched him like a hawk, waiting for a jerk of muscle in his face to display pain as he finished dressing. With his request, she looked to the wheelchair and heaved a great sigh, "It's nah tha' bad." She walked over to stand in front of his seated position, and slouched slightly so that they were eye level, "If ya really feel like yer nah gonna strain yerself too much, then I dun care. Bu' dun let yer pride get 'n th' way of healin', shiny? Afta wha' ya've done an' why yer here, ya go' more dignity 'n th' res' o' us, as far as 'm concerned. It was a very selfless thin' ta do."

If he had more energy, or if Katarina hadn't said the very words she had said, Locke might have pushed the issue further. Instead, he pushed off the bed with his hands to a standing position, then walked over to the wheelchair. With a stoic look upon his face, he took a seat.

She watched him solemn act, and resisted rolling her eyes. "There, see? Nice an' comfy. An' soon we'll be 'n our boat an' headed back home. Tha's somethin' ta be happy 'bout, righ'?" She leaned down to give him a very soft kiss, before straightening and getting behind his temporary wheelchair so that she could push him. It took a little maneuvering to open the door and push him out, but with that done, Katarina started in the direction of Liam' room to meet with his family.

Locke tried not to smile, very nearly forcing a frown for a moment, but the kiss broke through his temporary bad mood for the moment. While she was pushing him, he turned to look over his shoulder at her and whispered in a voice that was barely loud enough to hear. "Thanks..."

Liam wasn't out of the hospital yet, but since the transplant had taken well and he hadn't suffered any infection yet, they had moved him from the serious care wing of the hospital into the general population hospital rooms. The trip for Locke's room to Liam's wasn't very far, just down the hall, and when they arrived, the whole Taylor family and Eavan were already in the room.

With a gentle knock, Katarina waited until the door was opened before wheeling Locke inside, "Mornin', everyone." The smile was easy to produce and a hand moved over to rest on Locke's shoulder to give it a gentle squeeze. The past several days had given Katarina the opportunity to get to know Locke's family more, and she was completely grateful for Eavan and Arnand's support. His mother was another matter, but it was at least civil and polite.

"We've been given th' clear ta be headin' home today."

The physical recovery was the easy part for Locke. He was prescribed a strong painkiller and immune system boosting drug, and told to stay off his feet for a while. After all the stress involved in cutting ties with the bank, flying up to Port Leicester, undergoing the transplant surgery, undergoing another surgery to fix complications, and then traveling back to RhyDin, he?d been through a lot. It was nice not to have to worry about work, or his brother. For a few days, anyhow.

Reading newspapers and watching television got old fast, and it was only through Katarina?s firm insistence that Locke not push himself too hard and land himself back in the hospital again that he didn?t end up doing something rash and stupid. He had a countdown in his head for the day when he could start exercising (lightly) again, and when that day arrived, the ice elf very nearly partied. Until, of course, the full reality of his situation hit him.

Locke was jogging lightly through the tree-lined streets of New Haven, making good time all things considered, when the deeply buried truth struck him like a hammer to the gut. He pulled up short in the middle of his run, like he had pulled a muscle in his leg, and doubled over like he was short of breath. He could barely drag himself off of the sidewalk and into a seated position before his face was in his hands.

I can never duel again. Never. That Diamond tournament was my last hurrah, and that was a long, long time ago. No grand retirement, not even a disgraceful defeat. I?m nothing but a footnote in that history. Nothing.

Pity gave way to anger, and Locke took his hands off of his face and balled them into fists. He punched the concrete curb beside him once, twice, thrice, until his knuckles started to ache. He couldn?t come home with bruised or bloodied knuckles; how would he explain that to Katarina? But he couldn?t even run full-strength to burn off that excess emotion, the rage and doubt and disappointment roiling his stomach into a nauseous mess. There wasn?t anything he could do to get rid of the feeling ? not exercise, not drinking or drugs, not casual sex ? and knowing that just made him feel worse.

It took Locke a half-hour to walk back home. The effort left him with a sheen of cold sweat, aching muscles, and an aching heart.

The cab drove past the elaborately arched entrance and exquisitely detailed front garden of La Fleur D'?t?, the boutique hotel located in the northwest corner of the Dragon's Gate District, northwest of the Red Dragon Inn. Along the sides, the floral theme continued, with rose bushes tucked behind wrought iron fences tipped with blunted gold-colored spikes, bright red overhangs over each window, and carnations lining the edges of hotel room balconies. The modest glass and iron overhang did little to indicate what lurked beyond the doors beneath it. Only a menu encased in a glass holding frame beside and below the overhang indicated what was there: Vignes D'or. There, the cab stopped, and its two occupants exited.

Katarina exited the cab, but she felt no rush to enter the hotel. Instead, she paused on the sidewalk to observe the floral garden. The warm colors against the setting sun was a sight to appreciate. Even though it was hardly necessary, she tightened the knot around her bright red peacoat that's length covered her ensemble beneath, "It's pretty, yeah?"

Locke paid the cab driver with a smile and tugged at the sleeves of his navy suitcoat as he stepped out. The ice elf wore an ice blue dress shirt with no tie and a couple of buttons undone beneath the coat, black lace-up Oxfords, and black leather dress gloves. "Quite lovely, and for so late in the season, too. Do you suppose they magic them up so that they bloom year round, or do they let nature take its course?" The weather may have been a bit warm for Locke's taste, but when wasn't it? He knew that for most everyone else, the temperature was perfect, and it made him smile.

"Hmm," she looked up and around, as if the rest of the hotel would give her an answer, "I'm thinkin' tha' they magic 'em up, yeah? It'd look a li'l dull withou' 'em, an' there's nothin' wrong fra intervenin' on wha's natural fra time ta time." As if to make her point, she took a step towards him while giving his jacket a tug towards her to give him a kiss.

Locke's quiet chuckle was cut off by the kiss, and he made no effort to resume laughing right away. Eventually, and somewhat reluctantly, he pulled away, but only so that he could whisper in her ear. "Point taken, mate."

She smiled softly and winked for him, before threading her arm through his and dragging him to the displayed menu. She gave the contents a brief scan before pointing her finger, "I thin' we should do a tastin' menu, yeah? Let 'em pick everythin' fer ya."

"That would seem logical. You take the warm foodstuffs, naturally." He returned the wink, seemingly unphased by not being able to eat hot foods. "Besides, it will prevent me from making an arse of myself and ordering red wine with fish, or some such egregious culinary error." He tipped his head back, the back of his hand theatrically draped across his face. "How shall I ever live with the shame of that?"

She laughed warmly and gave his arm a squeeze. This, with Locke's bright humor and inquisitive nature, was what she loved most, "I wun tell if you dun tell?"

"You're just trying to get me to misbehave, aren't you? Just so you can see the look on the sommelier's face." Locke attempted his best snooty waiter impression. "'Monsieur, that is an...unorthodox pairing.'"

"I dun hav'ta 'try', melamin. It's part o' yer charm." A kiss to his cheek to subdue her tease, she started them towards the door, "Nah gonna get anywhere if we jist look, righ'?"

"True," Locke said, as he stepped inside. Beyond the entrance ,there was a ma?tre d' stand, where a short, thin gentleman in a black suit and pencil-thin moustache stood. "Good evening, and welcome to Vignes D'Or. What name is your reservation under, sir?"

"D'Vestavio. At the, uh, interactive bar?" Locke sent a curious glance to the side for Katarina. She had suggested the place and suggested the special bar seating, and he had agreed to it without giving much further thought. Until this moment.

"Of course, right this way." The ma?tre d' stand guided them through a dining area with dark lighting of golds and burgandys before approaching a wall with small, personalized bars that were divided by floating gold "bubbles" for a sense of privacy. "Gaston will be right with you.?

Locke waited until the ma?tre d' had walked out of sight of the bar before quietly clapping his hands. "Our own little private bar! Aces."

Gaston promptly arrived at the bar, armed with a rectangular slip of paper that had the daily specials on it. "Good evening, I am Gaston, and I will be taking care of you this evening. Have you been here before, or is this your first time?"

"First time," Locke replied.

"Would you like for me to demonstrate the bar for you?" At Gaston's question, Locke looked over at Katarina.

"Yes, please." Katarina finally finished undoing the buttons to her jacket, and Gaston promptly took it from her and hung it up on the wall to the side of their bar. "To begin, you will press the button here," In the middle of the bar, he pressed the small black button. It projected a menu from the ceiling onto the bar. "You select by just tapping on the bar." To demonstrate, he tapped the "By the Glass" selection, which led to another listing, this time of wine choices. "After making your selection, I will bring out your food and drinks. Do you have any questions?"