• David has some serious work to do, but will he be in time or is it too late already?
• Make learns that his petite girlfriend is not so delicate
• We get a glimpse into Kris's life pre Dave 
• Wease does actually have some backbone in this one
• A couple of bit characters make another appearance
• Someone is trying to manipulate lives 

Feedback: always appreciated!
end

"Did you need anything," Wease asked Mike's broad back that was already opening cupboards starting the dinner preparations. 

"What," Mike asked, turning to him clearly distracted.  Wease held up his phone, his face questioning.  Mike shook his head quickly, turning back to his impromptu dinner preparations.  He'd planned on making dinner tonight, but that wasbefore.  Before Kris and Carrie were hauled off in handcuffs.  He'd been sick with worry for hours, not able to eat or drink anything while he waited and worried, trying to keep a cranky toddler occupied.  Now that they were back and safe, he was starving. 

Wease wandered away from the kitchen knowing that whatever his sister's boyfriend produced for dinner would be edible.  It always was.  He took a deep breath, letting it out to get his brain in gear just before he dialed his cell. 

Many minutes later, Wease was still listening to his cell but he had developed a headache sometime during the call.  Many things made sense to him now, but it wasn't without a price.  The headache was just the start of it.  He glanced up to the closed bedroom door, wondering about his sister and how she was feeling.  She'd come in and gone immediately upstairs, shutting herself away.  He understood her solitude, but he still worried. 

"Dinner's ready, you want it there," Mike asked Wease.  The younger man nodded his acknowledgement but immediately started ending his phone call unfolding himself from the couch.   Mike went back into the kitchen, returning with two heaping plates of pasta.  He plunked one in front of Wease, hearing the last of the conversation. 

"Okay, Vi.  Thanks.  We'll call tomorrow.  Bye." 

"Everything okay," Mike asked, knowing it sounded lame but not really knowing how or what to ask about today.  He was out of his element, never having had anyone get hauled away by police in front of him before. 

"Not really, but it will be.  Vi is taking care of shit, like always," Wease said laconically, picking up his fork.  Mike took his lead from Wease, preferring to eat instead of think about today's shit anyway. 

"Any word from upstairs," Mike asked.  Wease shook his head, already chewing his pasta.  Mike frowned but stayed silent.  Both men focused on the serious business of eating for many minutes. 

Wease finally pushed his plate away, stuffed more than usual for him but he rarely turned down good food.  Mike looked up from his plate grinning. 

"Did I defeat you," he teased in reference to the remnants left on the plate.  A quiet nod was the only response, Wease concentrated on trying to get comfortable with his suddenly bloated stomach.  

"I thought you didn't eat pasta and shit?  Carbs and all that," Wease asked, knowing how particular Mike was about his diet usually. 

"I don't normally, but it sounded good tonight."  Mike finished his dinner before adding, "I ever tell you what Carrie had in her fridge when I first met her?"  Wease shook his head, willing to play along.  "Peanut butter and a tub of tofu.  Unbelievable.  I asked her about it and all she said was she had to eat something.  The fucking tofu had forks marks in it like she just stuck her fork in and ate it that way.  Can you even imagine," Mike laughed. 

Wease stayed quiet but smiled in response.  He knew better than anyone else his sister's issues regarding food.  Tofu and peanut butter made sense to him, but he refrained from saying so.  Mike was too much a foodie to understand and they had other things to talk about tonight. 

Both men grabbed their own plates, taking them into the kitchen.  Mike put them in the dishwasher.  Wease looked around at the tidy kitchen, realizing the other man must have cleaned up before they ate.  He opened the fridge, grabbing a beer. 

"You want one," he asked.  

"I get the feeling I’m gonna need one, so yeah.  I'll be done in a second, thanks," Mike said, drying his hands off. 

Wease handed him the beer as Mike sat down on the couch.  Wease purposely waited until Mike cracked his beer open before saying anything. 

"Today was a complete cluster fuck," Wease started before tipping his own beer up to drink.  Mike blinked in surprise at the younger man's words.  In direct contrast to his nature, he shut up and sipped his beer, bracing himself for the explanation. 

Wease watched the other man knowingly.  He glanced again at the closed door his sister had bolted through a couple of hours ago.  Mike followed his gaze, frowning quickly. 

"You think I should go check on her?" 

"No," Wease said quickly.  Hell no was his thought.  That was the last thing she needed right now.  "She'll be down when she's ready."  Wease could see Mike wasn't convinced but he stayed seated.  Wease raked his hand through his growing hair, gathering his thoughts, unaware that his sister did exactly the same mannerism.  The action wasn't lost on Mike, but again he stayed quiet. 

"This shit, today's shit, is because of something that happened about eight years ago," Wease said, his voice fading as his memories surfaced. 

"Eight years?  You mean this isn't related to your mother," Mike couldn't stop himself from asking. 

"Yes and no.  It's complicated, so drink up.  You're gonna need that and more."  Wease tipped his beer up, swallowing most of the can before he continued.  Mike frowned, but nodded.  

"I was still living at home I think, Kris had moved out years before and by then I think Carrie was in California?  Yeah, that’s about the right time frame.  Anyway, Carrie was visiting us for some reason.  I can't remember why right now." 

"Thanksgiving," a quiet voice said on the stairs.  She stepped slowly down in to the living area. 

"Babe, you okay?  Can I get you anything?  You need to eat, right?  Just have a seat and I'll get it for you," Mike said, jumping up from his seat.  Carrie nodded, resigned to the fact that he was gonna feed her, if she wanted to eat or not.  She smiled at Wease, but he sensed her underlying disquiet.  She squeezed his shoulder in passing, trying to reassure him, reading him as well as he read her. 

Mike quickly grabbed the plate he'd made for her earlier.  He noticed how pale she was and wanted to get some food in to her. 

“Thanks,” Carrie said quietly, as her plate was set in front of her without any fan fair.  A large glass of water followed it quickly.  Mike looked like he wanted to hover while she ate. 

“Go.  I can eat by myself.  Thanks for this, but I’m fine.  You need to hear Wease.  I already know the story.  I’ll join you when I finish.” 

“You sure,” Mike fussed.  She nodded, dutifully picking up her fork. 

***

He's drunk again, it's time to fight
She must have done something wrong tonight
The living room becomes a boxing ring
It's time to run when you see him
Clenching his hands
She's just a woman
Never Again - Nickelback 
 

Closing her eyes and counting to ten did nothing to stop the shakes.  She counted to ten a second time, knowing she needed to be able to dial the phone.  She reasoned that once she could do that, she’d be okay.  Her shaking finally subsided enough to try to pick up the phone without dropping it.  She took a deep steadying breath, trying to recall her training from years ago. 

While waiting for the ringing phone to be answered, she silently went over the things she wanted to say.  All coherent thoughts fled as she heard the familiar voice answer. 

“Carrie?” she wailed into the phone. 

“Kris?  Kris, what’s happened?  Where are you, sweetie,” Carrie asked, mentally cursing the fact that she was miles away at a local hotel. 

Carrie couldn’t hear any response other than the other woman’s quiet sobbing.  She could tell her sister was trying hard not to, but couldn’t hold back. 

“Kris, are you home,” she asked gently.  She was rewarded with a quiet yeah. 

“Are you safe?”  Damn it, she was worried that she’d get a call like this eventually.  He was such an asshole. 

“Um, yeah…” Kris said quietly as she rocked herself back and forth on the couch trying to calm herself and not alarm her sister.  She knew what Carrie had threatened last time and knew she was deadly serious. 

Carrie heard what she said and also what she didn’t say.  She took a deep breath, all thoughts of her own current dumb ass of a boyfriend left her head as she concentrated on Kris. 

“I’m coming, honey.  Will you be safe until I get there,” she asked, hoping the asshole had left. 

“Yeah, I think so.  He said…he said he was going to work,” Kris managed to get out before she started weeping again. 

Carrie clenched her jaw before saying anything else.  She knew Kris was fragile and didn’t want to upset her any more. 

“Okay.  Do I need to bring you anything?  Anything from the store,” she asked, thinking she might need to bring some ice or Tylenol or something. 

“No,  I don’t…I…” and she stopped trying to say anything because she knew she couldn’t. 

“It’s okay, honey.  I’ll come get you.  Don’t worry.  Don’t answer the door or the phone until you know it’s me.  I’ll be there as quick as I can baby, okay,” she asked Kris. 

She heard a mumbled agreement and told her sister she’d be there as soon as she could and hung up. 

Kris collapsed back on to the couch, knowing that she had just started something that could have horrendous consequences for all of them, but she didn’t care anymore.  She was tired of trying to make him happy.  It didn’t seem to matter what she did, it was never good enough for him.  She didn’t even want to think about today and what he’d done, what he forced her to do.  She closed her eyes and tried to not think about Carrie’s reactions.  She knew that she wouldn’t be able to hide all of it from her, Carrie knew her too well. 

Carrie placed her phone back into its receiver and grabbed her shoes and her new cell phone.  She’d call him on the way and alert him too.  This phone was already coming in handier than its predecessor.  She started to dial before she put the car in gear, not sure of the key pad yet. 

“Wease,” she asked after he answered. 

“Yeah, Care.  What’s up,” he asked, knowing something serious was happening by her no nonsense tone. 

“Stupid mother fucker went too far this time, Wease.  Stupid Fuck!  I warned him,” she said quietly. 

Oh shit.  Wease knew exactly who she was referring to.  Kris’s current boyfriend was already on Carrie’s shit list and it sounded like he had done something really stupid this time. 

“Is she okay,” Wease asked.  He knew that Alan had a temper.  He’d crossed that line once before and Carrie had warned him then. 

“I don’t know.  She called me, but didn’t sound good.  I’m on my way there.  You want me to pick you up,” she asked.  He was on the way and it would be better if more than one person was around in case the stupid fucker showed up. 

He sighed, trying to keep his temper in check.  “Yeah, I’ll be ready.” 

“Okay.  Give me about ten minutes,” she said quietly. 

Wease just grunted and hung up.  Shit, ten minutes?  She was really pissed if she was going to get clear across town in ten minutes.  He hoped no police were stupid enough to try to stop her in her current mood. 

Stupid fucker, was all she could think for the first few miles.  As she weaved through traffic she started worrying about Kris.  She knew things must be bad if she called.  Kris knew she'd warned that Stupid Fuck, in spite of Kris’s assurances that he’d never do anything like that again.  Carrie knew better.  She could spot a bully easily, having been the focus of a few when she was young. 

She pulled up and waited for Wease to come out, knowing she didn’t want to go in and try to be polite.  Not now.  The last thing on her mind was being polite.  Wease opened the passenger door and climbed in.  He looked over at his sister, she was barely keeping her temper in check.  He made sure his seatbelt was secure before she pulled away.  She looked over at her brother and noted he was belted in but silent.  She clenched her jaw and kept her mouth shut as she pulled into traffic. 

This was not the way she had planned to spend the rest of her Thanksgiving holiday.  She had been happy to fly home for a family get together.  She didn’t get to see her family often enough and any excuse was a good one as far as she was concerned.  Her dumb ass of a boyfriend had already called her several times and whined.  She was getting real tired of that shit.  Probably time to scrape him off her shoe and make him go away she thought, driving through traffic, ignoring the irritated drivers she left in her wake. 

Wease knew what they might be driving towards, what his sister might do to the dumb bastard.  He just hoped like hell Kris was okay and Alan wasn’t home.  If they could get Kris out of there without Carrie having to see him, he’d be a lot happier.  He knew Carrie worried, worried about him, worried about Kris and worried about her own future. 

Carrie checked the parking lot quickly as she pulled in looking for Stupid Fuck’s car. 

“Wease, you see his car anywhere,” she asked him quickly. 

She saw him shake his head from the edge of her vision.  She yanked up the brake to stop the car, hoping that little outburst would stem the tide.  Wease silently undid his belt and got out, knowing an explosion was eminent, particularly if the dumb bastard was anywhere near.  His tiny sister took several deep breaths knowing she needed to be calm for Kris. 

Walking up the stairs to Kris’ apartment, a neighbor waved them over.  Carrie frowned trying to remember the older lady’s name. 

“You’re her family, right,” the older lady asked without any introductions. 

“Yeah,” Wease said quietly.  He’d met her several times and remembered that she was a nice lady, even if she was a little too chatty. 

“I’m worried about her, you know.  Things ain’t good.  Things ain’t good and today things were real bad,” she said to their concerned faces.  “There was lots of him yelling today, lots of yelling and the names he called her?  Hmm, if that was my boy, I’d wash his mouth out, I tell ya.” 

“You hear anything from her,” Wease asked. 

“Not much honey.  Just her crying.  I think he was throwing some of her stuff out the windows, but that was later.  I think he was mean to her today, real mean,” she said widening her eyes. The whites of her eyes were exaggerated by her caramel skin, but the effect was dramatic.  Her point came across to her brother and sister loud and clear.  Carrie clenched her jaw but stayed silent.  She knew that stupid fucker was going to cross that line sometime and it sounded like he just lived his last day as a free man. 

“Can I help her,” nice neighbor lady asked. 

“I don’t know yet.  But we might need some help moving her out later,” Wease admitted. 

“Oh?  That’s alright.  I’ll get my boys to come over and help.  They’re not doing nothing anyways, beside driving me crazy,” she said with a fond smile for her sons.  Wease nodded his thanks as they continued to her door. 

“Kris, open up sweetie.  It’s us,” her sister said, knocking quietly. 

Wease could hear movement on the other side of the door.  They both heard something crash to the floor.  Carrie stepped back from the door, prepared to break it down if needed.  Kris opened the door to them hunched over and weeping. 

All thoughts of retribution fled Carrie’s mind as she bent down to catch her sister as she toppled over in the door way.  Wease gently picked her up and together they carried her back inside, away from the prying eyes of her neighbors. 

“Kris, we’re taking you to the hospital.  Where’s your purse, sweetie,” Carrie asked quietly.  She glanced at the once pristine and stylish living room, now torn to pieces with broken furniture strewn around. 

“Is it in the bedroom,” she asked. 

Kris nodded slightly.  Wease hadn’t let go of her, in case she fell off the couch he had set her on.  Carrie went quickly in to the bedroom and stopped at what she saw.  Her fury was instant.  The blood stains told her all she needed to know.  She took a deep breath and grabbed Kris’ purse and walked back out to them.  The sooner she got to the hospital, the better. 

“Anything else, sweetie,” Carrie asked her broken sister, her fury buried for now. 

Wease held her, gently rocking with her.  Kris shook her head, but still hadn’t made eye contact.  Carrie met Wease’s eyes and he blinked at the barely contained rage he saw something that he'd not seen from her since childhood. 

“C’mon sweetie, time to get you out of here and somewhere safe,” Carrie said quietly. 

Wease helped Kris to her feet and between the two of them they carried her out the door.  Carrie turned and made sure the door was closed and locked behind them.  She knew she’d be coming back later.  Definitely. 

They managed to get Kris into the front passenger seat.  As they both walked around to the driver’s side, Carrie stopped her little brother with a touch.  She shook her head, he wasn’t so little any more she had to remind herself.  He was officially an adult, he’d been through as much as her. 

She handed her keys to him and said quietly, “You drive.” 

He took her keys without comment and waited for her to climb in the back of her own rental car.  Luckily, the local hospital wasn’t very far away, they were in the parking lot within ten minutes. 

“Wease, let me out here.  I’ll run in and get a chair,” Carrie said.  Kris mumbled something about the fact she didn’t need one. 

“Wease,” was all Carrie said in response to Kris’ protests.  He did as she asked and stopped to let her out at the door so she could get a chair for their sister. 

By the time he parked and was walking around to help Kris out, Carrie was beside him with a chair for her.  Wease looked up at his sister and she shook her head, indicating they’d talk later, not now.  All their energy was focused on getting their sister the attention and help she needed. 

“Wease, they know we’re coming and why.  Just go ahead and find out which room,” Carrie directed her worried brother.  He gratefully jogged ahead, happy to be able to help in some small way. 

By the time Carrie had wheeled her sister to the doors of the emergency room, Wease had returned to her with directions to the room number. 

“Care, they want to know about insurance and the bill,” Wease told his sister.  He knew that kind of petty shit pissed her off and now was no exception. 

“Kris, Wease is gonna take care of you and let the doctors help you.  I’ll be back in just a few minutes.  I just have to sign my life away so we don’t have to ransom you later,” she said in a teasing tone in an effort to get a smile out of her. 

Kris looked at her sister and tried to smile through bruised and split lips.  She did nod, so Carrie knew she heard and understood her. 

I hope Wease is able to take it, she worried.  I hope he insists on staying with her if they try to tell him he needs to leave.  Okay, where are the pain in the ass billing people?  Let’s get this shit taken care of right now, she thought, striding away. 

Once she identified herself and her reasons to the admitting clerk, she kept her temper in check when they asked about insurance. 

“She doesn’t have any.  I’m footing the bill,” Carrie said for the fourth time.  Did this woman not understand her or what? Taking a deep breath she asked, “What do you need from me to ensure payment?” 

It seemed like she was speaking a foreign language to this woman.  Did no one ever say they were going to pay their own bill?  She opened up her wallet and pulled out several cards. 

“Which one do you need,” she asked the woman, trying to get her to understand. 

“Oh, well what if, what if she needs something,” the clerk asked her. 

“If she does, you put it on the bill and it will be paid,” she said in a tone that meant no argument. 

The clerk didn’t think the small woman in front of her understood her but took all her information anyway.  She was sure she was going to get a disciplinary action in her file for not getting the insurance info, but what could she do, she reasoned to herself. 

Finally, after signing her name way too many times, she was freed to go back to her siblings.  She went back to the room and pushed open the door slowly, unsure of what she’d walk into.  She saw Kris on a gurney, covered up to her chin in a blanket sleeping.  She glanced at Wease and saw him huddled in a corner, looking like he wanted to do some damage to the stupid fucker too. 

“Is she sleeping,” she asked him quietly as she kneeled down to him. 

He raised his eyes to her and nodded.  She saw pain in his eyes.  Pain for his sister, their beautiful sister and the pain she must have endured.  Pain he couldn’t take away.  Pain that no one should ever have to endure.  His look let her know that he had stayed during the initial exam and was aware.  She gripped his shoulder and leaned over, kising his forehead.  Both of them thought they were done with this kind of shit years ago. 

Carrie straightened up, waling toward Kris, reaching for her relatively undamaged hand.  She felt her eyes burn, knowing she needed to stop that shit, needing to be strong for Kris. 

“Carrie,” Kris whispered without opening her swollen and discolored eyes.  She knew it was her sister by her touch. 

“Yeah, baby,” Carrie said quietly.  She heard Wease stand up and step behind her. 

“They said…they…I have to go in for a procedure soon.  Promise me you’ll be here when I get out,” Kris mumbled through her swollen lips. 

“Of course.  We’ll both be here for you, you know that.  Like you’ve always been there for us,” she assured her sister. 

She held her hand and tried to offer some kind of comfort through her proximity.  They were escorted out after more people came in to prep her for the much needed procedure.  The worried pair found several chairs to occupy and wait. 

Wease looked over at his older sister, trying to determine if she knew.  If she was aware of the damage that had been inflicted on their sister.  She looked over at him and nodded to his unspoken question.  He heard her mutter ‘stupid fucker’ under her breath. 

“Should we call Mom,” Wease asked her. 

“Not yet,” she said.  “Let’s wait until we have something to tell her.  You know how she gets,” alluding to Darlene’s excitable nature. 

“You gonna have his ass arrested,” her brother asked. He was almost certain what her answer would be. 

 She looked at him, seeing him for the first time as a man.  When did that happen? 

“Eventually,” she said into his concerned gaze. 

It was the answer he expected.  He nodded, knowing it would be a waste of time to try to convince her other wise.  Besides, he would be happy to see that asshole get his balls handed to him by his diminutive but ferocious sister.  Oh yeah, the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to make sure he was there. 

“She’s gonna need some things from her place.  Once she comes out, we’ll call Mom and then get her shit from the apartment.  If he happens to be there, that just makes it better,” she slid her eyes over to him. 

He nodded, knowing he was going, even if she didn’t think he was.  He was, that’s just all there was to it. 

After too many minutes to count, Carrie looked up to see a nurse searching for someone.  She nudged Wease and stood up, walking over to the nurse.

“We’re here with Kris Martin,” Carrie said.  The nurse nodded at her and motioned for both of them to follow. 

The nurse guided them to a room that had the door pulled shut.  She opened the door for them but put her finger to her lips, indicating for them to be quiet, Kris was sleeping.  Carrie stopped in her tracks as soon as she caught sight of Kris on the bed.  Wease stumbled into her, it was so unexpected. 

Carrie noted the bruising on her face, covering her from brow to chin.  She was swollen almost beyond recognition.  She also saw the bruise around her beautiful sister's throat.  She filed that piece of information away for later.  The procedure that was performed was to slow the bleeding from her miscarriage. 

Carrie took a few steps towards her sister and stopped as she felt her eyes burn again, knowing that Kris had been so excited that she was pregnant, even if it was with Stupid Fuck's baby.  She had chatted endlessly about how much Carrie was going to get to be an aunt finally and now thanks to Stupid Fuck, the likelihood of Kris ever having a baby was slim. 

She felt a large hand on her shoulder and turned.  She was surprised to find it was Wease's.  She looked up into his green eyes and knew he understood, he understood her anger and her pain.  She nodded and advanced to Kris's bed.   Seeing Kris had both eyes swollen shut made her doubtful she’d be able to open them even if she wasn't sleeping.  She reached for her hand, just to reassure herself she was going to be okay.  Kris's hand felt cold but it gripped her small hand at the familiar touch.    Kris opened her lips to try to say something, but nothing came out. 

"Don't sweetie.  We're here.  I'm calling Mom for you.  She'll be here soon," Carrie said in a rush, before her tears betrayed her. 

Kris whispered, "Don't...jail."  Carrie frowned at her words. 

Kris tried again, "Don't go to jail, he's not worth it." 

Kris breathed heavily with the effort of getting her words out.  She couldn't see if they were understood.  Wease's words assured her they were. 

"Don't worry about that, Kris.  He's the one that's going to jail.  We'll make sure of it," he said, taking in all the bruises. 

Carrie looked at him sharply at his words, particularly the WE part.  He returned her look but stayed quiet.  He was going, no matter what she said.  They weren't sure if Kris heard him, but her grip on her sister's hand relaxed and Carrie set it back on the bed slowly. 

"C'mon.  Time to call Mom," Carrie said, quietly walking out of the room. 

She knew she didn't want to have to be the one to make the call.  She had been dreading it for months.  She knew something like this was going to happen, she just didn't know when. 

"I'll do it," Wease spoke up. 

Carrie looked at her little brother and nodded, relieved she didn't have to tell their adoptive mother that her beautiful daughter was lying broken and beaten in a hospital bed. 

Carrie wordlessly handed him her phone from her bag and watched him walk away as he dialed.  She found some uncomfortable seats and perched on one to wait.  She occupied her mind with all the things she wanted to do to that bastard.  All the things she couldn’t because she’d be in jail quicker than she could blink, and Kris had told her that he wasn’t worth it.  That was true, but he wasn’t going to get to jail unscathed.  That much she was certain. 

Reminding herself of how the apartment looked, she wasn’t sure what would be salvageable.  She knew Kris would need clothes, but after that, there didn’t look like they’d be able to get much else.  She saw Wease walk back to her, wiping his eyes as he did so.  He wordlessly handed her phone back and sat down next to her. 

“She’ll be here in a few,” Wease said quietly. 

Carrie nodded and stayed quiet, knowing that Darlene was not going to be happy, but relieved that she would be there to help Kris through some of the difficult times ahead.  At that thought, she considered what she had to go back to. Not much.  Just a pain for a boyfriend, he wasn’t much of that, just a convenient bed partner.  Maybe she should stay home for a while to help Kris, she knew the worst of her injuries weren’t visible or physical, but they’d hurt just as much. 

Her thoughts were cut short as she heard someone bustling in.  Looking up, she saw Darlene’s worried face advance towards her.  She met her and wrapped her arms around the large woman. 

“Where is she,” Darlene asked. 

“Just down the hall, she’s sleeping.  Did Wease tell you,” Carrie left it unfinished because she wasn’t sure what Kris’s mom knew. 

“He said,” Darlene stopped for a moment because she was still trying to get her wits about her. “He said she’d been beaten up.”  She released Carrie and reached into her huge handbag for a tissue to dab at her eyes. 

“She’ll pull through, but he was a sadistic bastard,” Carrie said, watching Darlene with her tissue. 

Darlene’s eyes opened wide at Carrie’s words and she brought them back to her face to try to read what she was being told.  Carrie nodded briefly, trying to let her know the truth without coming out and saying anything.  Wease had stood up as Darlene had walked in but stayed quiet. 

“Carrie and I are going to her apartment to get some of her stuff.  We’ll bring it home," Wease said to break the silence. 

Darlene nodded and Carrie guided her to her daughter’s room.  She pushed open the door for Darlene to walk through but stepped back.  She pulled it shut once Kris’s mom had stepped through.  She didn’t want to be a part of more pain for her adoptive mother.  She’d done enough of that to last both of them a lifetime. 

“Poor Darlene,” Carrie said, drawing attention to the fact she wasn’t seated at the table.  

Mike managed to close his mouth long enough to ask, “No shit, but why do you say that?” 

“It wasn’t too long after that, that she had her heart attack.  I thought Neal wasn’t gonna make it.  Both his girls…”  She left the rest unsaid, settling on the couch next to Wease.  He reached for her hand, holding it in silence.  Mike frowned at the action, but remembered they had done something similar before. 

“Yeah, it was a shitty year for him,” Wease said. 

“For all of us,” Carrie said quietly.  Mike nodded, thinking he understood her.  He didn’t but she wasn’t going to explain everything tonight.  Mike noticed another look passing between the siblings. 

*** 

“Got any more beer,” Wease asked.  Without a word, Mike went to the kitchen for two more.  Once they were settled again, the story continued.  

Walking back to the car, Carrie realized Wease still had her keys.  She held out her hand and waited.  

“No. Not until you agree to let me go with you,” Wease said stubbornly.  

“What,” she asked irritably.  

“I mean it, Care,” he said, setting his chin.  She saw that he was serious but so was she.  

“You know what we might be walking in to?  No way am I going to let you get sucked into that.”  He didn’t move, so she tried again.  “I don’t think two of us need to go to jail because of the stupid asshole, do you,” she asked.  

“Neither of us needs to go,” he said, shaking his head.  “It’s why I’m coming with you.”  At her glare he continued, “Care, I need to come.”  

“Bullshit.  I can pack her things all by myself.”  

“Care, I need to be there…to remind you,” he said it quietly, knowing his sister would be pissed that he’d brought it up.  She was.  

“Keys,” she spat.  She held out her hand and he gave them to her.  She unlocked the passenger door for him and he got in without another word.  

Shit, she now had her baby brother telling her she was some freak.  Great, just what she needed.  The worst part was he was right.  He had saved her ass years ago from doing something stupid, and she might need him today for the same reason.  

She drove in silence back to the apartment.  Wease knew he better keep his mouth shut or risk reminding her that he was there.  He saw her grip the steering wheel tightly, saw the anger in her rigid body, watching it build the closer they got to Kris’s apartment.
 

not seeing it.  He hoped they were able to finish quickly.  

Carrie glanced at her watch before turning to him, “If we’re lucky he’s still at work.”  

Wease nodded, he’d been thinking the same.  They got out of the car, climbing the steps back to the ruined apartment.  Carrie had parked in one of the spots reserved for tenants since it was closest and they’d be bringing down boxes to the car.  She had brought only her keys and Kris’s, leaving the rest of her things in the car.  She flipped through the unfamiliar key ring as she searched for the right one.  Finally she found it because the locked door opened.  

Now that her worry wasn’t directed on Kris, she was able to really look at the apartment and see the devastation.  The devastation to her sister's designs, the torn paintings, the ripped curtains, the smashed table.  Wease walked into the kitchen to find some garbage bags to put his sister’s clothes in.  He came back with several.  Carrie saw what he had in his hand, nodded and motioned for him to follow to the bedroom.  

Stupid, she realized too late.  Wease hadn’t seen the bedroom earlier and she forgot to tell him.  She turned to look at him and saw his anger matched her own.  She knew she couldn’t do anything to ease him so she concentrated on opening drawers to find clothes.  She started stuffing any clothes she could find in the bags.  She kept her eyes averted from the bed, from all the stains on the bed.  She wanted to leave that for the police.  She knew she’d be calling them as soon as she was done here to pick Stupid Fuck up, even if he was still at work.  That thought made her smile.  He projected such a professional air that being arrested at work would definitely put a dent in that.  They were both so focused on the task that they didn’t hear the door open.  Wease was taking the clothes Carrie was tossing his way and putting them in the bags.  

“I see the bitch finally decide to move out, huh,” Alan said from the doorway.  

The siblings looked up from their task at his words.  Wease’s heart pounded, they weren’t fast enough.  Carrie smiled at the hated man’s words.  Perfect, she thought.  She realized she was in a state where everything seemed to slow down for her.  She knew the feeling well, but didn’t normally feel it unless she was competing.  It was her mind’s way of letting her focus - letting her win usually.  Carrie took in his bruised face and smiled, knowing that Kris got in a few good ones before he brutalized her.  

“What?  Not gonna say nice to see you, Alan,” the blonde man sneered from the doorway.  

“Why would I bother to lie, asshole,” Carrie said deliberately.  She sensed her brother’s sharp intake of breath and knew he was aware of her deliberate goading.  

“Bitch!  You’re just like her and I didn’t tolerate her being disrespectful either,” Alan said, advancing.  

“Is that what you call it,” Carrie questioned him, fully aware that he was two strides away as she said it.  

The blonde man reached out and slapped her, “Bitch!”  

“Does that make you feel better, you sorry sack of shit,” Carrie asked quietly, looking him directly in the eyes.  She could see he expected her to turn from him and was less sure of himself when she didn't.  “I know you have to do that just so you can get it up, but it doesn’t work for me.”  

“What?  So now you’re gonna beat my ass?  Like you’ve been threatening to do for months, is that it,” Alan snarled, grabbing the front of her shirt.  

She smiled, looking at him.  He was such a stupid waste of human flesh, educating him today was going to be a joy. 

“Yes,” she said quietly bringing the butt of her hand to his sternum, jabbing him hard, feeling it give.  He fell back, lungs deflated, leaving him gasping.  He was forced to let go of her shirt as he landed on his ass.  

“Wease, grab the bags,” she directed without losing sight of the fallen man.  

She knew he’d be enraged when he got up.  She felt Wease put the bags of clothes near the front door and wait.  He knew she wasn’t finished, he knew her too well.  

“C’mon you sack of shit,” she said quietly to the downed man.  “Get up.  I don’t have all day to waste on you.  Some of us have lives and people we care about, unlike you,” she continued in her quiet voice.  

Wease knew how angry she was, her voice was the give away.  He knew that the quieter and calmer her voice got, her temper went up.  Currently he gauged her temper at an eight on the scale of one to ten, but it could change in an instant.  

“Bitch!  I knew I should’ve beat the shit out of you when I had the chance,” Alan snarled, trying to get up quickly.  Unfortunately, he tripped over his own feet because of the small size of the space he had fallen into.  

Carrie noticed his futile efforts and goaded him with, “You think this is the same guy that raped our sister, Wease?  I don’t think this dumb fuck even knows where his dick is."  She smiled, turning quickly to her brother.  The man on the ground struggled to get to his feet with another enraged snarl.  

“What would you know about my dick, bitch?  Your sister been telling secrets,” he tried to smirk but was stopped by a quick hard slap across his face.  He blinked because he didn’t see it coming and it brought tears to his eyes.  

“Every time you call me a bitch, I’ll slap the taste out of your mouth,” she smiled at him, folding her arms over her chest, waiting for him to do something else stupid.  

She knew he wouldn’t be able to let her get away with the last slap, at least while he was conscious.  She watched as he shifted his weight, tensed his shoulder, narrowing his gaze at her slightly and swung hard.  It happened in slow motion for her so it was easy to dodge.  She stepped out of his way lightly and smiled at him.  

“That all you got, dickless,” she asked.  

She knew through Kris how self conscious he was about his endowments or lack of and she was going to torment the shit out of him for every single one of her beautiful sister’s bruises, from today and every other day.  

“Just warming up, bitch,” he said as he lunged towards her with the notion of knocking her to the ground.  

Carrie saw his intent and side stepped him, but grabbed his belt and used his own momentum to toss him head first into the living room wall.  From Wease’s perspective, his sister was giving the sorry bastard a long overdue ass kicking.  He had no idea how she managed to throw the man across the room, but he was impressed.  

“Wease, did he just call me a bitch again,” she said quietly as she advanced on the downed man.  

“Yeah, I think he did, Care,” Wease smiled at her and waited.  

“Get up dickless, so I can slap you again,” she said as she reached him as lay groaning on the floor.  “C’mon, I haven’t got all damn day!”  

She tried to sound lighthearted, but that was far from how she was feeling.  She wanted to beat the living shit out of the piece of garbage.  He tried to kick at her as he stood up.  She stepped away but reached in quickly and slapped him hard with her other hand, just to keep him off balance.  

“How much longer you going to make me wait to see what you’ve got, dickless?”  

He tried to swing at her again and missed, again.  She stepped back and let his momentum carry him off balance and watched as he tripped over his own feet again.  

“That can’t be it, can it Wease,” she taunted her sister's attacker again.  

He growled, standing up and baring his teeth at her with a snarl.  Her face remained impassive, she wasn’t impressed.  She had forgotten more from her teachers than this asshole would ever know.  He tried to reach for her shirt again so he could punch her but she stepped away again, slapping his hands down.  That insulting gesture, much like what a mother would do to a troublesome child caused his control to snap.  Carrie watched his pulse pounded at his temple and thought to herself, finally.  

He charged her and tried to grab her but she hit his sternum again with her fist, knowing it would hurt but not incapacitate.  

“Ah, I see you’re enjoying our little foreplay,” he gasped, doubling over trying to regain his breath.  

“I see you haven’t got much of a dick if this is what it takes to get you up,” she taunted looking at his obvious arousal with disgust.  

He tried to punch her again and she shifted her aim to his jaw, knowing it would break, but he would continue to get up.  She was counting on it.  He fell against the wall as he rubbed his jaw in obvious pain and howled at her, not bothering to use any coherent words.  

“Wease, did he just call me a bitch again?  I couldn’t understand him.  You think he did,” she asked her brother with a serious expression.  

He smiled, nodding.  She advanced on the downed man as he leaned against the wall and pulled her hand back and stopped.  He had closed his eyes and cowered.  That sparked her anger even more.  She didn’t feel merciful, she knew he hadn’t felt any earlier when he was tossing around her sister.  

“I think he did,” she finished quietly and slapped him hard, feeling his broken jaw shift under her hand.  

“I have to tell you Alan, I’m not too impressed.  I thought considering the damage you did to my sister, my only sister, that you’d put up a better fight than this.  I’m disappointed, truly.”  

The man leaned away from the wall and stood up at her insult, vowing to himself that he would wipe the smile off her face if it was the last thing he did.  He was a slow learner or his pain clouded his thinking or he’d never met anyone who bothered to stand up to him before, but whatever it was he charged her again.  

Carrie stepped out of the way again, but again grabbed his belt to help propel him against the wall, but she added the strength of her legs to his charge and he hit the wall harder and faster than the last time.  He didn’t get up.  He didn’t move.  Carrie walked to him quickly to make sure she hadn’t inadvertently killed him.  She saw his nose was bleeding, but he was definitely breathing, even if he didn’t deserve to, she thought ruefully.  She also saw he’d have a couple of black eyes, thanks to her slaps.  She already knew he had several broken ribs.  There was no debate as she looked at his outstretched leg and stomped down hard.  She heard and felt it crunch under her foot.  She nodded, mostly to herself.  

“Wease?  You think you’ll still be able to attract the ladies with a black eye,” she asked him.  

He knew what she was saying and why, so he nodded.  He’d take a black eye from his sister if it helped put the piece of shit away so he couldn’t hurt anybody else’s sister again.  They heard some sirens in the distance, and knew their time was limited.  She walked over to him and smiled.  He nodded and clenched his jaw against the coming blow.  She reached out and expertly hit him, just below the eye knowing it would cause the biggest and quickest discoloration.  Wease reeled from the blow, but didn’t say anything.  His early childhood taught him much.  

“Do I need any help,” she asked him as he held his hand over his eye.  He looked at her and saw she had what would probably be a black eye soon and shook his head.  Now he knew why she’d let Alan hit her.  He didn’t understand it before.  

Carrie guessed that one of the neighbors had called the police once they saw Stupid Fuck had shown up.  She knew they were trying to be helpful, but she would have liked a little more time before any authorities showed up.  She shook her head as she recited his name, so she’d be able to tell the police her story.  He wouldn’t be able to speak coherently for a while and she wanted to ensure that she and Wease were able to get their statements recorded first.  The sirens got louder as they approached.  She’d guessed right, they were coming here.  

She took a deep breath and exhaled as she heard the heavy boots on the stairs.  Wease still had his hand over his eye and leaned against the opposite wall from the downed man.  

“Open up, police!”  The male voice sounded authoritative.  

Carrie walked to the door and threw it open as she said, “Thank God!  Thank you for coming.”  She managed to look frightened as she eyed the large men entering the ruined apartment.  

“We had a call that there might be a problem,” one man said to her as several others took in the state of the apartment.  

“Thank you.  Yes, there was a problem,” she said and pointed to the man laying against the wall.  One of the men walked to him and checked him by rolling him over.  

“We need an ambulance sir,” he directed to his sergeant.  

The other man nodded and called it in.  He turned to the two people huddled together, asking if they needed to go to the hospital.  

“I don’t know,” she managed in her best vacant voice.  

She turned into her brother, reaching for him.  He held on to her and brought her to his chest for a comforting embrace.  He knew the drill, he knew his role.  

“Sir,” one of the officers directed at Wease.  

He pulled away from his tiny sister and looked at the man.  The other man blinked at his spectacularly swelling eye.  

“I think we need more than one ambulance,” he said to his sergeant in reference to what the young man had shown him…  

“Why does that name sound familiar,” Mike asked the siblings.  

“Because that’s who they tried to charge me with assaulting today,” Carrie explained.  

“For shit that happened years ago,” Mike asked incredulously.  

“No.  Someone attacked him a few weeks ago and those brainiacs at the county put two and three together and came up with four,” Wease said cryptically.  

“Why would they do that,” Mike asked.  

“They had an anonymous tip,” Wease said sarcastically.  Carrie was unable to stop her contemptuous snort.  “Yeah, suddenly both of my sisters were filled with a murderous rage and went on a spree, trying to stab some old boyfriend – or so the cops think.”  

“Wait a sec.  You said this had something to do with your mom too,” Mike remembered to ask.  

“Oh, this is where it gets beyond stupid,” Wease said quietly.  “The arresting officer, or the one trying to do the arresting today, was there on the scene when my mom attacked my dad.”  The younger man’s face paled at the memories but he kept quiet.  Carrie squeezed his hand.  

“No shit?  Is that why he was so weird today?  He was acting kinda odd.  Even I could see that,” Mike admitted.  Wease swallowed and continued.  

“Yeah, he was one of the cops that Carrie,” Wease paused for a second.  “That she assaulted during the skirmish when they arrested her at our house.”  Mike’s eyes widened in surprise.  

“You didn’t recognize him, Babe?”  

She shrugged, “No, I don’t remember any of the cops faces from that night.  It wasn’t important to me at the time.  I didn’t think it would matter almost twenty years later.”  

“From what Vi has been able to find out once they got their tip, that cop was totally balls to wall to arrest my sisters, to hell with logic or evidence,” Wease said quietly.  Mike frowned, trying to come to grips with such a disjointed case.  

“That doesn’t make a hell of a lot of sense.  That guy burst in here like a fucking train wreck.  Can we do something to him?  Sue him or something for being an asshole,” Mike asked, his temper climbing at the remembered afternoon’s activities.  

“Don’t worry about that.  Kris was all over Vi on the way home.  She was so pissed I bet that guy gets an early retirement before the week is out,” Carrie said quietly.  Wease smiled at the thought, but Mike was still frowning.  

“Kris?  Seriously,” Mike asked his girlfriend.  Her words didn’t mesh with what he knew of the pretty blond his buddy married.  

“Oh yeah, nobody messes with family.  She is like a momma bear.  Nobody crosses her and lives to tell about it,” Wease supplied.  

“But what about that Alan guy,” Mike asked.  

“What about him?  He’s in hospital, likely to recover from his wounds,” Carrie said quietly.  

“No, no.  What I meant was why did she tolerate shit from him years ago?  I don’t get it,” Mike explained.  

“Kris is many things, a survivor is just one of them.  Who knows why she took his shit.  Maybe he was great in bed.  I don’t know.  I’m just glad she recovered from her ordeal and was able to trust enough to get married.  How that’s working out right now I don’t know but we’ll have to wait and see on that score.”  

Wease shifted off the couch, empty beer can in hand.  

“You want another,” he asked Mike.  Mike shook his head, mulling over the information he’d been told.  Their lives just kept getting more and more damn complicated.  He thought just having a psycho for a mom was bad enough, but to add all this shit too?  

“What’s gonna make this cop drop the case,” Mike asked, worried.  Carrie sighed before explaining.  

“I gave Vi permission to use my credit card statement, Kris’ too if needed, for the appropriate time frame.  We weren’t even in town when Alan was attacked.  Kris and I flew out to tackle a project the day before.  The cop was so excited at possibly getting a case solved that he neglected to do some basic background work before he came over,”  

“If Kris won’t press charges, god damn it, I sure as hell will.  What a dumb ass,” Mike vented.  

“Don’t worry, Vi has her orders.  She’ll take care of it, of him,” Wease said, grinning at the thought.  

The three sat in silence as Wease settled back on to the couch with another beer.  Many quiet minutes passed, each lost in their own thoughts.  Mike took Carrie’s hand in his, wanting to feel connected to her after the day’s drama.  A sudden thought occurred to him, something that he’d never had the guts to ask before.  

“That fight, Babe,” Mike asked, waiting for Carrie to tune back in.  He saw her slowly meet his eyes, a definite reluctance in them.  “You wouldn’t.  I mean you couldn’t have killed him,” he asked quietly.  Large green eyes met his for many seconds.  “You wouldn’t have killed him, would you,” he asked again.  Wease stayed silent next to her, knowing the answer already but curious about how she’d answer.  

She finally blinked, breaking eye contact.  Fingers pulling through her curls told Mike more than he wanted to know.  She could have?  Really?  

“The way Wease made it sound….it sounded like it lasted for half an hour.  It really only lasted a few minutes at most,” Carrie said quietly, still not answering his question.  

“But Babe,” Mike pressed, wanting to hear her tell him no.  

“How much do you know a Judo or Karate, Mike,” Carrie asked quietly, not wanting to go there with him.  Not now or ever.  

“Only what I see in the movies, really,” Mike admitted.  She smiled sadly at his answer.  

“The silly shit in the movies is so far removed from reality.  Keep that in mind.  Know that it takes very little to kill someone.  The skill is in not killing them,” she admitted.  “Hell, Alan told Kris he was a black belt in Judo or some shit.  He wasn’t.  But, he had some of the knowledge to make him dangerous but not the skill or the finesse that comes with years of practice.”  Mike sat in silence, unsure what to say by his girlfriend’s almost admission that she could kill someone.  

Sensing his confusion, Carrie continued.  “The human body is painfully frail.  But, it is also very resilient.  Kris healed from her serious injuries and so did Alan, eventually.  He was able to go back to his life after he served his time and make a living.”  

“Yeah, but that’s only because of you,” Wease chimed in.  Carrie cut him a look that would’ve killed most people.  He was used to it, even though it was well deserved.  Before Mike could open his mouth to ask about it, Carrie explained.  

“If I would’ve gone in there without any control, Alan most definitely would have been dead.  It’s just too easy to kill someone by accident when you’re fighting them, particularly when the skill levels are so different.  It’s why I don’t complete anymore and it’s also why I won’t watch that caged fighting shit with you,” she directed at Mike.  He frowned in confusion.  “Next time, listen to what training they’ve had.  Watch how they fight and if they protect their opponent.  It’s really not that much different than what David does, or at least it shouldn’t be.”   

Mike sat in silence, trying to understand her.  Trying to understand what she’d just admitted to.  His girlfriend had the skills to kill someone?  That was disturbing.  Maybe that was why the cop went after her?  

“Hey, why would they think you tried to kill Alan this time around when you didn’t last time,” Mike finally asked.  

“Exactly,” Wease said.  “And why would she bother to stab him multiple times when she could easily crush his windpipe?  It’s quicker and cleaner.”   Carrie shot her brother a glare, enough to wilt a weaker man.  He smirked at her. 

Disgusted with the turn of the conversation, Carrie left them to discuss the finer points of ass kicking.  Last thing she heard before closing the door was Mike asking her brother if she’d ever compete again.  He sounded kind of excited by the prospect.  Men.  Were they all bloodthirsty?    

*** 

I push my fingers into my eyes 
It's the only thing that slowly stops the ache 
But it's made of all the thing I am today 
Jesus, it never ends, it works it's way inside 
If the pain goes on, 
I'm not gonna make it!
            Slipknot – Duality 

Kris eyed her kitchen walls with satisfaction.  The paint had turned out better than she’d hoped.  Just the cabinets to hang and it would be done.  Louise had volunteered to take the kids for the night so she had plenty of time tonight and tomorrow morning to get it completed.  Never willing to let a kid free night go to waste, she’d waved them goodbye and opened the paint can almost instantly.  Now, hours later she could enjoy her handiwork. 

Granted, it had been therapeutic to paint – working off her anger and frustration at the local police force.  Today had been a complete fiasco for both her and Carrie.  Knowing that her sister was likely up to her eyeballs in work or trying to get some rest was the only thing that stopped Kris from picking up the phone and sharing a bowl of ice cream as they dissected today.  

Tub of Chocolate Marshmallow goodness in hand, Kris closed the freezer, stopping only long enough to grab a spoon.  Her choice of eating outside was obvious to her, if only to enjoy her backyard knowing that in spite of everything, her family would be leaving their home and moving to Florida soon.  Before the next school year for certain, she’d made that promise to her kids already.  And if it was just her and the kids, so be it.  She was getting used to the idea of being a single parent - hell it’s not like she wasn’t half the time already anyway. 

Blinking away unwanted tears, she glanced around the yard taking in all the scars left on the fence, flower beds and house by her busy family.  The well worn trail around the large maple that the kids all learned to ride their bikes around first.  Before she let them out on the concrete, they had to prove to her they could ride around the old tree.  ‘Lissa was well on her way to giving her enough grey hair as she attempted to prove to her mommy she was a big girl too, riding around the tree on her trike.  She didn’t understand that she wasn’t going to get to ride around out front for a couple more years at least.  

Her glance strayed to the pool and the last time her and Dave had taken a dip together. As happened more often than not, they made love under the stars that night.  Angered by the reminder, she tossed the now empty tub in the garbage.  Stupid men.  She was better off without them.  Without him.  It hurt too much.  Their lies.  His lies. 

 Without conscious thought she was lacing up her running shoes.  She needed to run, to get it out.  It had been too long since she’d been able to loose herself in the rhythm of a good run.  She needed it now more than ever, she mused.  Personal safety dictated that she use the treadmill instead of pounding the pavement at night.  Flipping the power on the unit, she grinned in anticipation. 

Many minutes later saw sweat and tears running down on her face as she came to the realization that her husband had chosen to ignore his wedding vows, throwing his family away on a whim.  Reaching forward to slap the machine off, she bent over in pain, gasping.  Pain that she’d kept at bay for weeks for the sake of her children.  They didn’t need to see her gut wrenching pain.  Pain inflicted by her selfish husband.  It was no secret that she’d thrown him out, her children were well aware of that, but they didn’t know or she hoped they didn’t know how much his betrayal hurt her.  She had been able to keep herself busy with running her home and keeping her mind occupied with other issues, never dwelling on the fact that Dave wasn’t coming home after a long trip.  He wasn’t coming home again ever.  She’d made sure of that when she told him to move his ass to Florida without her.  Yes, she and her family were still moving, but they’d do it without him.  The schools and business opportunities for her were too good to pass up. 

She eventually dragged her tired ass to bed for a few hours rest, knowing she needed to be able to see straight tomorrow if she was going to get her kitchen finished before the kids came home. 

**** 

Mike reached blindly in the vain hope he wasn’t alone in bed, again.  Empty sheets told him his girlfriend was already up, likely having knocked out half a days work already.  He grunted in wry amusement.  Her pregnancy rarely seemed to slow her down, at least not as far as he could tell.  Reaching for the sweats he’d dropped last night, he mused over his day’s plans.  Nothing of any importance, certainly. 

The scent of freshly brewed coffee greeted him as he descended the short flight of stairs. Nice.  Now that the smell wasn’t making her gag anymore, she usually made coffee for him in the mornings.  A great start to his day, for sure.  Pouring the black nectar, he scanned the kitchen looking for his laptop to catch up on the days events.  It took several sips off coffee before he remembered he didn’t have one anymore.  The cops took it yesterday, along with his damn cell phone.  How the hell that was gonna work, he didn’t know.  A financial consultant without a laptop or a cell phone?  Not his or his clients idea of accessibility.  He took his mug of coffee with him to the couch so he could at least flip on to some current news, better than nothing he reasoned.  He glanced at the clock on the way, past nine am already?  He really must have been tired. 

He has just opened his mouth to ask his girlfriend a question, when a knock at the door sounded.  Mike frowned at the door in confusion.  They weren’t expecting any visitors, were they?  A louder knock this time, more determined sounding caused him to pry his dead ass up to go answer it.  He bent down to peer out the peep hole, hoping it wasn’t more disruptions.  Staring back at him was a dark haired man, in a suit and tie, looking like he just stepped off the pages of GQ.  Great, just great.  Some damn sales guy.  Fully conscious of the fact that he was barely clothed in a pair of sweats, coffee mug in hand, Mike cracked the door open. 

“Yeah,” was all he managed, ready to tell the sales guy to go to hell. 

“Good morning,” Mister GQ said, taking in the surly man in front of him.  “Is Miss Martin available,” he asked politely.  Mike detected a trace of some accent but he wasn’t awake enough to categorize it yet. 

“No,” he rumbled back, in preparation for closing the door in this too well coiffed and clothed imbecile’s face.   A grin split GQ’s face at the expected answer.  He raised his hands, showing Mike several big boxes without a word.  Mike frowned, not caring what he was being shown. 

“I’ll wait,” was all GQ said, setting the items back down again.  Mike frowned at him, realizing he wasn’t kidding.  The man looked like he was willing to sit and wait for his girlfriend to show up.  Whatever.  He closed the door without another word. 

“Babe,” Mike said, sipping his coffee as he went to the end of the hall and her office. Keyboard noises had told him of her location while he’d been occupied at the door.  Carrie looked up, seeing a scruffy man in sweats coming toward her.  If it were anyone else, she might be worried by his size and the grumpy look on his face, but she knew that was just how he was first thing in the morning.  Give him time and coffee and he became human, most of the time. 

“Yeah,” she asked, sensing he had something on his mind.  Seeing her hair fall in front of her eyes made Mike reach out and push it away automatically.  His fingers strayed to her longer curls.  He wrapped a strand around his fingers, feeling the soft silkiness in his hand.  Carrie sighed, seeing he’d spaced off.  She deliberately reached out, pulling her hair out of his hand and tried again.  “You need something?” 

Mike blinked in confusion for half a second, bringing his mug of coffee up automatically. He sipped, trying to muddle through why he came back to bug her for something. 

“Oh, yeah.  There’s some asshole at the door asking for you,” Mike shrugged. 

“What?  You just left him outside?  You do know it’s raining, right,” Carrie said, waddling past him quickly.  Mike frowned at her rapidly retreating form, trying to understand the fuss.  

He came back to the entryway in time to see the same GQ asshole setting boxes down inside the entryway.  Mike watched in astonishment as Carrie ripped into the closest box while GQ Asshole took his overcoat off, looking for all the world like he would be staying.  Mike must have muttered something because Carrie’s head suddenly popped up from the box. 

“Mike, stop being such a grumpy gus,” she grinned conspiratorially to the other man.  He took a few cautious steps toward the pair.   Carrie managed to not roll her eyes at his actions, but only just.  “Mike, please meet Andrew John,” she said, nodding at the grinning asshole.   

Andrew watched the other man’s brows climb in surprise at his name.  Mike Adams was proving to be all he heard about and more, and it was only the first few minutes.  

Andrew reached out his hand saying, “Nice to meet you, Mike.  I’ve heard so much about you.”  Mike took the offered firm grip, struggling to keep up. 

“Uh, g’morning.  Sorry about that,” he said, indicating the door.  Andy shrugged. 

“Hey, don’t worry about it.  I’ve been locked out before.  And please call me Andy,” he said, closing the closet door after hanging up his coat.  Suddenly a light bulb went off in Mike’s caffeinated brain - the man’s name and his obvious ease in their home. 

“You’re Andy?  But I thought…” Mike said and suddenly stopped, as his girlfriend’s words popped into his head, Andy & I have the same taste in men.  He’d stupidly thought that Andie stood for Andrea or some other female name.  

Andy watched the disbelief and surprise play out on the other mans’ face.  The man would be a terrible poker player, he thought.  He’s totally transparent.  Seeing his confusion and something else brewing, Andy decided to divert him with, ”Yeah, two first names.  My parents should be shot.”  Mike smiled in spite of himself. 

“You want any coffee,” Mike offered.  Andy nodded quickly, moving past him and into the kitchen with ease.  Mike watched in silence for a moment before he turned back to his girlfriend as she lifted out a new laptop from one of the boxes.  “Can I help, “ he asked, unsure what the hell was going on. 

Carrie looked up, flashing him an impish grin. 

“Nope, not yet.”  

Mike frowned but nodded dutifully, absently sipping his coffee.  He turned away, but not before he heard his girlfriend humming something tuneless.  Once seated again on the couch, he risked a look at her again.  She had a new laptop out, flipped over and was performing something akin to brain surgery on it.  In spite of all that she was almost bouncing in her chair with enthusiasm.  He set down his empty mug, musing what she must have been like as a little girl Christmas morning.  Oh, wait.  Scratch that, maybe birthday? 

“Babe, you’re like a little kid at Christmas,” he said, lifting his ass off the couch. 

“Good thing I never had to deal with that, huh?  I don’t know how people stand it.  All those damn wrapped packages, just sitting there for weeks?  I’d go insane,” she said, flipping the laptop back over and powering it up.  Mike chuckled as he walked back up the stairs, shaking his head at the thought. 

Once the door closed behind Mike, Andy quirked a brow at his long time employer across the dining table, “You never told him I was a man?” 

“Duh, he’d just get all weirded out by it.  No matter what he says, he’s not that progressive,” Carrie said quietly. 

Andy shut up, watching Carrie prep Mike’s new laptop.  His thoughts went back to the kitchen that he used to know like his own.  He ought to, they’d spent many long hours hammering out details on hundreds of projects over the years.  He used to be able to count on two things her kitchen – one was the placement of coffee cups and two was stacks of notes on the unused range.  Now he’d had to hunt for the cups and the range looked like it got used daily.  Some of her requests that she’d made seemingly out of the blue a few months ago made sense.  It filled him with sadness and understanding.  

Carrie was many things, complicated being the most obvious.  But he’d known and worked for her for years, loving almost every minute of it so he kept his mouth shut.  A sound drew his eyes back to her.  He saw she was done with the laptop and was now working on the replacement cell phone, both of which had been ordered and expedited to minimize the inconvenience to her boyfriend.  “You want me to finish up your phone,” he asked.  A quick nod was the only answer, buried deep in happy geekiness as she was. 

Mike came downstairs a few minutes later, freshly showered and fully clothed, much to Andy’s dismay. 

“Babe, you eat yet,” Mike asked, walking toward the kitchen.  Carrie looked up, frowning, trying to recall what, if anything she’d eaten recently.  Andy stayed quiet, guessing her answer already.  Mike sighed loudly at her lack of answer.  “Andy, you hungry?” 

“Always,” he grinned.  He managed to not chuckle at the question but was looking forward to trying one of the other man’s gastric delights.  He’d heard from both Carrie and Wes about the man’s culinary skills.  Andy was many things, a lover of food was near the top of his list. 

“You care what you eat,” Mike asked, thinking the slim man might be as much of a food nut as he. 

“Hell no, as long as it isn’t nailed down,” Andy responded quickly.  Mike nodded, turning away already thinking about the breakfast he would prepare.  Andy glanced over to Carrie quickly.  “You were right,” he said quietly.  She looked up, grinning. 

“Always,” she teased.  He snorted at her preposterous claim.  “About what,” she clarified. 

“Him.  You described him to a tee.” 

“Told ya,” she said quietly.  He nodded, giving her that.  “Still think you can work with him,” she asked. 

Grinning at the remembered view at the front door, Mike in a pair of sweats only, Andy nodded.  “Can you,” he asked her. 

“Yeah, he’s got some amazing ideas,” Carrie said quietly, preferring not to dwell on other possibilities.   

In a few short minutes, Mike set filled plates in front of both of them, looking at the pair with a gentle smile. 

“That work,” Mike asked Andy.  The quick nod was the only response.  Satisfied, Mike set down to a large breakfast plate, intent on enjoying a morning with his girlfriend even if they weren’t alone. 

“Whatcha working on, Babe,” he asked after several minutes. 

Reaching over and patting the now closed lid of the laptop she replied, “Your laptop.”  Mike blinked in surprise. 

“What?” 

“Your laptop,” she said slowly.  “I know you’ve had some coffee,” she teased. 

“I get what you said, but I don’t understand,” he asked.  Andy sat quietly, watching the interplay between the two, hoping to disprove his earlier theory. 

“Simple enough.  You need a laptop to work and the cops still have your old one, so this is a new one for you,” she said, waiting for him to understand. 

“How do you know what I have on it, what I need,” Mike asked, skipping over the fact that his girlfriend bought him a laptop without asking him what he wanted or needed.  Mike sat in astonishment as he listened to his girlfriend explain how every time he logged in to his laptop, it was backed up without any input from him.  His cell phone too, if he understood her correctly. 

“So, you see, just a little inconvenience to you last night and it’s all good today,” she said grinning.  Mike sat quietly for several seconds, thinking about all the shit he had on both his phone and laptop, some of it private and confidential.  Shit.  He decided to stew about it quietly and get another cup of coffee.  Andy watched him go in silence. 

How has his day gone from bad to worse?  First he wakes up alone, although that wasn’t so odd.  But finding some GQ looking asshole on the doorstep was.  Then finding out same asshole was his girlfriend’s longtime employee most definitely was.  Then add to that his work and personal shit was copied and kept fuck knows where to be downloaded back onto new items with no more than a few keystrokes?  Oh hell his day was just fan-fucking-tastic alright.  He hoped like hell Dave’s morning was going better than his.  At least his wife wasn’t some twelfth degree black belted killer disguised as the mother of his children. 

“What did you say,” Carrie demanded loudly from the couch.  Mike frowned, unaware that his entire soliloquy hadn’t been inside his head. 

“Uh, nothing Babe,” Mike mumbled, coming back.  Andy glanced at him curiously as he came back in but was unaware of the other man’s reasons.  

“No, bullshit.  You said something about David and his wife.  What was it?”  Mike watched his previously calm girlfriend pry her very pregnant ass off the couch so she could pace in agitation. 

“Um, nothing honey.  Really,” Mike tried to placate her, unsure why she was suddenly so agitated. 

“Bullshit.  Don’t treat me like I’m stupid.  I heard you say it.  You said something about David’s morning.  What did you mean,” she demanded, green eyes flashing at him.  Mike blinked, trying to recall what he might have muttered, seeing he’d have to ‘fess up since Carrie was obviously upset by whatever he’d said. 

“Uh, I don’t know what I said Babe, but it’s no big deal.  Dave’s morning is probably very full right about now,” Mike said, risking a glance at the kitchen clock over her head. 

“What the hell are you talking about,” Carrie demanded. 

“Nothing much.  Just that Dave was gonna drop in on Kris so they could talk.  You do know she hasn’t-“ was all he got out before she interrupted him. 

“Oh my fucking god!  What part of last night’s discussion didn’t you understand?  Kris has the same training as me.  You do not drop in on someone unannounced unless you want to get seriously hurt!” 

“She’d never do that,” Mike said, feeling unease creep in for the first time.  “She loves him.” 

“She likely wouldn’t do it on purpose, Mike.  But you do not surprise a black belt unless you can duck very quickly.  Kris can hit a gnat’s ass without looking,” Carrie said, feeling sick at the scene that was unfolding in her mind.  Her brother in law, lying flat out with a bunch of roses in his hand, and Kris standing over him, horrified at what she’d done.  God, men were so stupid. 

Mike and Andy stared at her in horror, suddenly understanding.  

***** 

Selfish love yeah were both alone 
The ride before the fall 
But I’m gonna take this heart of stone 
I just got to have it all 
 
I’ve seen your face a hundred times 
Everyday we’ve been apart 
I don’t care about the sunshine, yeah 
cause mama, mama, I’m coming home 
I’m coming home 
Ozzy Osbourne – Momma, I’m Coming Home
 

David pulled up to his house, praying like hell today’s worked.  He needed to talk to her.  And he needed to do it now.  Who knew his wife could stay pissed for weeks?  He didn’t, but then he’d never pissed her off as bad as now.  After a long conversation with his mom last week, he’d had to face reality.  His wife was getting ready to file for divorce, thinking he’d cheated on her and she was getting the house ready for sale.  All without a word to him about it.  She must be one seriously pissed off lady.  His mom was a proponent of today’s plan, in part because she didn’t want to see him fuck up his life anymore.  Plus, he kinda hoped she didn’t honestly believe he’d slept around on Kris.  She never flat out asked him, but was a willing participant in this morning’s plan.  She’d taken his kids last night for the weekend, giving Kris an opportunity to paint the kitchen without having to worry about them.  Louise said she’d been grateful for the offer, unsuspecting any duplicity.  David also knew Kris had already changed the locks, thinking that would keep him out.  She didn’t know him very well if she thought that.  He wasn’t going to give up that easily.  He wasn’t giving up on them that easily. 

Closing the car door quietly behind him, not wanting to alert Kris to his arrival, he decided to leave his bags in the trunk for now.  No need to piss her off at his presumptiveness.  He fished Mikie’s key out of his pocket, praying that it was the right one.  A quick turn of the key proved his son still was still looking out for his old man.  Good kid. 

Another look through the entryway brought him up short.  Their front living area, the formal living room, was completely changed.  The walls had been painted, all the furniture was totally new and the carpeting looked expensive.  He pursed his lips in silence.  His wife had exquisite taste and he trusted her vision for their home.  It was just a shock to see such a change, even though he’d been told that she was renovation/redecorating the house.  Listening, he could hear music playing in the general direction of the kitchen.  He smiled, knowing his wife loved listening to music when she painted, saying it helped her relax, making the time fly.  He just hoped she’d been painting long enough to be relaxed enough to listen to him. 

Kris was irritated, her morning that had started out so well had suddenly gone to hell.  She’d managed to get the kitchen painted last night, doing touchups early this morning.  That wasn’t the irritation.  The offensive pint of Italian Straw that was refusing to open was seriously pissing her off.  She started with her trusty, well used screwdriver.  That hadn’t worked.  She’d moved on to one of Dave’s heavier ones, and the damn lid still wouldn’t budge.  Thinking back to the kid that mixed her paint, nose ring, smirk and all, she wished he would suddenly have some horriblly painful affliction, since he seemed to have put the lid on with a fucking jack hammer.  Little shit hadn’t stopped popping his gum the entire time either.  Wonder if his mother knew what a pain in the ass he was?  Likely.  Setting the can back down on the drop cloth, she tried again, cursing the little purple haired fucker the entire time. 

David stopped, seeing his wife with her back to him crouched down over something.  God, he thought he might be able to smell her perfume from where he stood.  He damn near groaned at the thought.  Just seeing her, finally.  She was in an old pair of capris, cover in paint splotches from various other projects through the years, old splattered sneakers, some indeterminate t shirt and topping it all was one of his old bandanas serving to cover her hair.  Just seeing the back side of her of set his pulse pounding.  He’d never seen a more beautiful woman, paint splatters included.  Suddenly he was nervous that he’d somehow fuck things up more today, not something he wanted to think about.  Too much too loose he’d been telling himself all night long. 

Finally, Kris sighed, easing the lid off slowly.  A sudden sound behind her caused her to turn.  Without thought she flung the paint can lid at the intruder.  Her eyes widened in surprise at her intruder. 

***

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