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Different Circumstances: Part 13E of ? by Marzee Doats


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Tuesday, December 26, three months after the bombs

"So Heather, Jake ever tell you about the time we got stuck on the roof of town hall during a thunderstorm?" Stanley inquired, trying - and failing miserably - to sound far more conversational and far less anxious than he really was.  "We were up there - well, it seemed like forever, but at least twenty minutes.  The whole storm."

"Nope."  She spared him a two seconds' glance before returning her attention to the entrance into the small ER from the ambulance bay. 

Heather had been watching and waiting for Jake's arrival for the last half hour, refusing offers of chairs, blankets, glasses of water, and anything else they could think of that might make her more comfortable.  She'd insisted that she had to be there when Jake came in, and both Michael and Stanley had refused to let her wait alone.  Stanley - over Mimi's objections - had even turned down Michael's offer to find him a private room, and instead the three of them had followed Heather down the corridor to the ER.  Michael had insisted on completing his examination of Stanley's ankle, as well as taking the other man's temperature, after he'd realized that Stanley couldn't stop shivering.  It had been low - ninety six, just above hypothermic - but of enough concern that Michael had snagged a couple of blankets from the nearest closet, sending Mimi down the hall to the kitchen to get Stanley a mug of hot tea.  April and Jeff had joined them after finishing their preparatory tasks, and now they all waited, trying to distract Heather with a series of very obvious, very stilted, topics of discussion, and failing utterly at the task.

"What were you two doing on the roof during a thunderstorm?" Michael asked, exchanging a frustrated glance with Stanley.  Michael didn't know why he was surprised that she was ignoring them; his sister could be single minded to the point of tunnel vision, especially when it came to those she loved.  He remembered how in those last few days when they'd known their mother was going to die, Heather had rarely left her side, doing what needed to be done for her comfort and showing a level of devotion that was matched only by their father's.  She'd even refused to attend her own college graduation, despite their parents' protests.  Instead, the still mourning Lisinskis had held their own impromptu ceremony in the living room not quite a month later after her diploma had arrived in the mail. 

"Trying to put on a fireworks show.  We'd decided we wanted to outdo the Fourth of July," Stanley explained, allowing a halfhearted chuckle.  "Sixth grade.  We were idiots.  But we - we planned like we were planning D-Day.  Gramps helped us buy 'em.  Didn't ask what we were up to."

"That does sound like Gramps," April sighed.  "He always was one to aid and abet."

"Yeah, that's Gramps for ya," Stanley agreed, tightening his hold on Mimi, who was seated next to him.  She had dragged the chair Michael had brought in for Heather next to Stanley's when it had become apparent that the expectant mother would not be using it.  "We didn't tell anyone what we were gonna do - especially Eric, 'cause he was a complete blabbermouth."  April snorted at that, rolling her eyes, though in the dim light, Stanley missed it.  "Sorry," he muttered, then cleared his throat.  "Anyway, the mayor and my Dad were so mad," he continued, "Wanted to ground us both for a month, but Mom and Mrs. G talked them down to two weeks."

"And, that sounds just like -" Jeff began, cutting himself off when they were all suddenly blinded by headlights streaming in through the wide windows in the doors that came in from driveway outside.  "That's them!" he exclaimed, already moving toward the entrance, April right behind. 

"Mikey, let me go!" Heather protested as her brother latched onto her arm, holding her back as she moved to follow. 

"We'll go - we're going," Michael answered, starting to lead her toward the door.  "But the last thing we need is you slippin' and falling."  He exhaled nervously.  "C'mon."

Outside, Jeff and April joined the small swarm of people around Jake.  "Temperature's ninety two.  Ninety two and a half, maybe," Drake reported, scrambling out of the Suburban after his patient.  "I think," he qualified, letting out a frustrated breath.  "I had to - he's not lucid enough - I had to take it in his armpit."

"Okay," April acknowledged, flashing a sympathetic look.  The EMP had wiped out all the digital thermometers and they were now reduced to a few mercury thermometers, already packed in a box for disposal, that had been dug out of the back of a cabinet where they had been lost and forgotten years before.  The glass thermometers were harder to read - especially in the dark - hard to get used to after years of digital readouts, and certainly the armpit wasn't anyone's first choice for taking a temperature.  "What else?  Pulse?"

"Thready," Drake answered. "Poor muscle coordination and he's been in and out of consciousness."

"Respirations?" April inquired, walking alongside Jake as the firefighters, assisted by Eric and Johnston, carried him in on the backboard.  "Jeff, get the gurney," she ordered, shaking her head.  The young man looked around and then dashed immediately for the clinic's door.  They had staged one earlier, but in the excitement no one had remembered to grab it.    "At any time, did you have to perform CPR?" April asked next, leaning over her brother-in-law to check his eyes with a penlight.

"No," Johnston and Drake answered in unison.  "But - but it was close," Johnston admitted sourly.

"Leave ...hell 'lone," Jake grumbled.  He swatted at April's hand, missing her by a number of inches, his arm flailing wildly.

"Take it easy there, cowboy," Don barked, tightening his grip on the backboard.  "Last thing we need is to drop ya."
 
"Jake!" Heather called out, yanking away from her brother and skidding to stop in the doorway.  Catching up, Michael quickly pulled her out of the way just as Jeff careened by, steering his gurney into place as the men bearing Jake entered the building with their patient.  They transferred him quickly and then the firemen got out of the way.  "Jake!" she gasped again, pulling loose from her brother and shoving past Johnston to reach his side.  "Oh God," she squeaked, cupping his face with one hand.  "Jake."

His only response was a groan and then his eyes fell closed.  "Okay, we're gonna move him into exam one," April announced loudly, throwing her father-in-law a significant look. 

Johnston took the hint and laid his hand on Heather's shoulder.  "Let 'em do their job, darlin'," he murmured.  "Let 'em take care of him."

"You can come in," April relented, spotting the stricken look on Heather's face.  "Take him," she ordered, looking at Michael, Jeff and Drake.  "We found the portable IV warmer, so Mikey, you get that started.  Drake, I want his temperature every five minutes.  And Gail..." she continued, twisting around and grabbing her mother-in-law's arm, "We've got a hot plate that still works in the kitchen and Carol Normand's been boiling water.  We're gonna need it for hot compresses and to make tea.  Get a cup or two into Dad and when Jake's alert enough, we'll start pourin' it down his throat, too."

"Of course, sweetheart," Gail agreed immediately, "I'll get it."

Mimi, who had been standing off to the side with Stanley, stepped forward.  "I - I can help."

"Thanks, Mimi," Gail nodded, quickly leading the way down the hall.

Taking a deep breath, April turned to face Heather and Johnston.  "Okay, c'mon," she said, already moving toward the examination room.

"April," Eric called hurrying to catch up with her.  Flinching, she glanced back at him and he stopped short.

"Not now," she commanded, holding up a hand as if to ward him off.  "I can't - not now, Eric.  Please."

"Okay," he acknowledged, his jaw tightening.  "Just - just take care of him."

* * * * *

Three hours later, Jake's temperature was hovering around ninety five degrees and everyone was breathing a little easier, though they all knew he was hardly out of the woods yet.  April and her three students had treated his hypothermia with a saline IV warmed to one hundred and four degrees, with hot compresses applied to his neck, chest and groin, and by burying him under every blanket not already in use elsewhere in the clinic.  Meanwhile, Gail had dispatched Eric to the Green house to pick up the ingredients she'd been saving for supper and, with the exception of Heather who had refused to leave Jake's room, they had all rotated through the kitchen for a bowl of cabbage soup and a mug of hot tea.  Johnston had brought Heather's food to her and then had moved a chair next to hers beside Jake's bed, keeping her company and - more than once - squeezing his son's hand to remind him that he would be okay. 

Johnston had just left to return Heather's dishes to the kitchen when Jake stirred beneath his nest of blankets, groaning softly.  "Hey there," she crooned, sitting forward in her chair and reaching for his hand, cradling it carefully in her own.  "How you feelin'?"

"Uhhh," he croaked. 

That one, inarticulate syllable sent a wave of relief through Heather and a thankful and slightly hysterical giggle escaped her.  In the next instance, she'd thrown her arms around Jake, blankets and all, hugging him as best she could through the bulky material.  "Oh.  Oh!  I wasn't supposed to do that," she squeaked a few seconds later, pulling away.

"Wha'?" he mumbled in response.  Jake reached after her, trying to stop her, but his body was slow to respond to his orders and his - his hand was attached to something.  He made a frustrated noise, pulling against whatever was arresting his movements.  "Babe," he sighed.

"Don't - don't yank that out," Heather cautioned, reaching for his hand.  She checked the tape on his IV line, and satisfied that it was secure, carefully laced their fingers together.  "You need that," she explained, "It's warmin' you up.  Had to put you on a leash," she joked, reaching over to comb her free hand through his bangs.  April had checked the cuts on his head and had declared the injuries superficial.  She hadn't even let Heather wash his face, explaining that they had to concentrate their efforts on his trunk and on warming him up.  "It's just a heated saline drip, but it's helping you out and April says you have to finish it, every last drop," she joked softly.  "I'm - I'm technically not even supposed to be doing this," Heather admitted, reluctantly withdrawing her hand from his hair.  "Could make you have a heart attack."  It was one of the frightening possibilities April had impressed upon her, that in his hypothermic and weakened state, anything - something as innocuous as massaging his hands - could be a shock to his system and could induce cardiac arrest.

His eyes closed, Jake shook his head against his pillow, protesting the notion.  "Uh uh.  C'm'ere," he added a few seconds later, tugging on her hand.  "Y'okay?" he asked, blinking at her blearily as she perched herself on the edge of the hospital bed.  Jake let go of her hand and, pulling his IV line taut, he brushed his fingers, somewhat clumsily, over the swell of their child.  "B.G.?"

"We're fine," she assured, "Just fine.  So for right now, you're just gonna have to let me worry about you, and not the other way around."  Heather took a deep breath and then exhaled through her teeth, admitting, "I was so - was so scared, Jake."  She wanted to kiss him, but there wasn't a spot on his face that wasn't chapped, bruised or cut, and she also didn't want to hurt him.  "But you're gonna be fine," she insisted, settling for tucking the blankets closer to his chin.  "You're gonna be just fine."

"C - cold," he muttered, his eyes fluttering for a moment before they finally fell shut.

"Well, you're a lot - a lot warmer now than you were three hours ago," Heather informed him, chuckling uneasily.  Again, she gave into the overwhelming urge to touch him, running her hand up his arm.  Michael and Jeff had stripped off Jake's outer layers of clothing - in case anything had gotten wet - leaving him in just his thermal long underwear, but still she could feel the chill on his skin through the material.     "We just need to finish warming you up," she declared, squeezing his forearm.

A ghost of a smile touched Jake's chapped - and in the case of the lower one, split - lips.  "Warm - m - me up," he invited, his voice rasping, as he patted her leg.

"Okay," she whispered, grinning gently.  Heather stood up and quickly moved around to the other side of the bed.  "And, you know, April can't really bust us this time," she joked, lowering the bed's rail.  "I mean, I'm just doing my part, right?  Sharing body heat." 

"Yeah," he agreed with a grunt.  Jake freed his other hand from the mess of blankets and held it out to Heather, giving her something to grasp as she peeled the covers back, levering herself into the hospital bed.  Panting, he collapsed back onto the mattress while she arranged herself and the blankets over the both of them.   Her hand pressed protectively to her belly, Heather turned on her side and, cautiously, pressed herself against Jake.  Beneath the covers, his hand sought out hers and, lacing their fingers together, held her hand over their baby.  "Jus' righ'," he slurred softly.

"Jake, don't - stay with me, Jake, okay?" she begged, unable to keep the note of panic out of her voice.  They had worried at first when they couldn't rouse him, and even though his body temperature was continuing to rise and April had assured her that he was coming along as best they could hope, Heather still couldn't help but worry.  She couldn't lose him.  "Stay with me," she repeated.

"Stuck wi' me," Jake answered, his eyes opening.  Turning his head, his gaze locked with her and he offered a slight, exhausted smile.  "Not goin' anywhere."

"Good," she murmured, relieved.  Spotting an unblemished patch of skin on his chin, she leaned closer and kissed him, tears stinging her eyes as she tasted the sweat and blood that permeated even there.  "I love you," she whispered against his jaw.

"Love you," Jake echoed.  His eyes were already closed again, but his hand tightened over the top of hers, and Heather couldn't help but let out a relieved breath.  "Always."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Tuesday, January 1, five years before the bombs

"We're gonna freeze to death in here," Jake complained, following Heather into her house.  His mother hadn't let them leave until after seven, insisting on feeding everyone a proper dinner despite the fact that they had been snacking all day.  But now they were at Heather's and truly alone - finally! - something he had been looking forward to since their interrupted moment in the living room of Eric's and April's new house hours before.  "Unless, you know, we keep each other warm," he suggested, the low pitch of his voice sending a tingle up Heather's spine.

"Yeah, I turned the furnace down to sixty before I left," she admitted, looking back over her shoulder at Jake and giving him a sheepish smile.  "I'll turn it up," she decided, moving into the living room.  Dropping her purse and the engagement present his mother had given her on the coffee table, Heather crossed to the thermostat, pushing the tab up to what he guessed had to be nearly eighty degrees.  "Sorry," she muttered, hugging herself against the cold.
 
"All right?" he asked, placing her suitcase down just inside the living room, against the wall.  Nodding, Heather crossed to his side, and Jake drew her into his arms, kissing her gently.  "I love you," he murmured, grinning against her mouth.
 
Heather smiled in return, wrapping her arms around his neck.  "I love you, too," she replied.  "And I'm gonna marry you," she added giddily, twisting one of the curls that had appeared at the ends of his too long hair around her finger.  "I'm gonna be 'Mrs. Green'," she declared, her grin growing as she watched Jake for his reaction.  'Mrs. Jake Green,' she thought to herself, not quite able to believe that she was turning into one of those women.  'Heather Green,'   she amended silently, though she giggled aloud.  Sure, her name was going to sound like a crayon color or a paint chip, but Heather couldn't wait.  She wanted nothing more than to be Jake's wife, a member of the Green family, and eventually, the mother of his children.
 
"What's so funny?" Jake demanded, kissing her again.  He teased her lips open, deepening their kiss, trying to gather Heather closer despite the restrictions of the bulky winter coats they both still wore. 
 
"Sorry," she apologized, laughing as she pulled away from him.  "I'm just - 'Mrs. Green'.  I can't believe it," she told him, her eyes dancing.  "I didn't come home thinking you'd be compelled to propose," Heather sighed, brushing her mouth over his.  "I just missed you."
 
"Nobody's forcing me to marry you," Jake argued, frowning.  "Gramps - what he said just made sense, maybe gave me some - some impetus," he allowed, brushing her hair off her face, "But I love you, Heather, and I want to be your husband."
 
"And, I want to be your wife," she grinned in return, catching his hand as he withdrew it to press a kiss to his palm.  "'Mrs. Green'," she repeated, giggling.  "My kids should be so happy," Heather sighed happily.  "I mean, because 'Mrs. Green' is a lot easier to say and write than 'Miss Lisinski'," she explained a second later, catching Jake's questioning look.
 
"I see," Jake acknowledged, nodding his head thoughtfully.  He released his hold on her, though he kept her hand in his, squeezing it.  "And, you know, I'm not really a jealous person, but as 'Mr. Green', I think maybe I should get to read all the love letters that 'Mrs. Green' receives."
 
"You mean the ones from eight year old boys?" Heather grinned. 
 
"Are there others?" he demanded, chuckling, one eyebrow raised questioningly.
 
Heather shook her head.  "Nah," she assured him.  "That's pretty much it.  And you're welcome to read them all.  Might pick up a tip or two," she teased.
 
"Just might," he agreed, winking at her.  The furnace finally rumbled - loudly - to life, and Jake sighed, taking a step back.  "Let there be heat," he muttered.  "I'll go get your other bags from the car."
 
"Thank you," she acknowledged. 
 
Heather was sitting on the couch when he came back into the house, the present from his mother open in her lap.  Jake dropped her two bags next to the larger suitcase and took a moment to study his future wife.  There was a part of him that still couldn't believe she'd agreed to marry him, especially after her reaction to his first admittedly unromantic proposal.  But she had said yes, he remembered, forcing himself to breathe.  The noise distracted Heather from her study of the gift in her lap, and she looked up, offering him a glowing smile. 

"So, what in the world did Mom give you?" he asked, moving around the coffee table to seat himself next to her on the sofa.  "I mean, she didn't know I was gonna propose, so how'd she know to have a present for you?  Not for me," he added, teasing.  "Just for you."
 
"It's a picture - well, two pictures," she answered, handing him the box for his inspection before maneuvering herself into his lap.  "You, when you were a little boy," Heather smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek.  "You were so adorable."
 
Jake wrapped his arm around her, placing the box back on her knee and studying the pictures over her shoulder.  "I'm what?  Four?" he questioned, kissing the side of her neck.  The furnace was starting to pump out heat, and the room wasn't quite as chilled as before, but neither of them had taken off their coats yet.  He tucked his hands under the back of her coat, running them up her sides, as much to warm them as to touch her.  "Brr," he complained before continuing.  "I don't get it."
 
"I saw these pictures the night your Mom was showing me your baby pictures.  You caught your first fish that day," Heather informed him, leaning back against his chest.  "And, I just love the contrast in your expressions," she explained, tracing the tips of her fingers over first one photo and then the other.  "I told her I liked the pictures," she said, twisting her head around so she could look him in the eye.  "Later, April showed me a picture of Eric as a little boy that your Mom gave her as an engagement present, so when she said I knew what my present was, I knew it was this."   

It was obvious from Jake's expression that he still didn't understand, but all he said was, "Okay," before he kissed her soundly. 

Heather smiled at him.  "It's okay that you don't get it," she assured, laying her head back on his shoulder.  "I love you anyway," she chuckled.  "Right now, forever, and even the adorable little boy you used to be."

Jake rolled his eyes.  "You weren't even born yet," he argued, kissing her temple. 

"Doesn't matter," Heather sighed, smiling at Jake.  "But it's okay, really. You don't have to understand it," she repeated.  Pulling away, she placed the gift box on the coffee table and moved off of his lap, peeling off her coat. 

"Too cold," Jake protested, grabbing after her hand.  "Stay.  Keep me warm."

She laughed at him gently.  "I'm usually the one who's freezing," she reminded, straddling his legs so that she faced him.  "And, it's really not that bad," Heather grinned, starting to unzip his parka.  She pressed three quick kisses to his mouth, distracting Jake from her continued assault on his coat's zipper. "It's gotta be five degrees warmer already," Heather insisted.  "So if we just snuggle up," she proposed, kissing him as she shoved his parka open, "We'll be fine."

"I could build a fire," Jake offered, capturing her chin with his hand and pulling her back for another kiss.  "Baron and I hauled a half cord of wood over for you a coupl'a days ago.  Though I hafta say, he wasn't very helpful," he joked.

"You brought me firewood?" Heather asked, beaming at him, her eyes suddenly bright.

"Yeah," he shrugged, fighting a pleased grin.  "We can snuggle up in front of the fire all winter long," Jake suggested, twisting a lock of her hair around his finger.  "And if we run outta wood, I'll just bring more over from the ranch."

"That's so sweet," Heather declared, placing a peck of a kiss on his lips.  "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Jake murmured, still playing with her hair.  He started to shift underneath her, intending to get up, asking, "So, should I build one?"

But Heather shook her head 'no'.  "Not right now," she told him.  She lifted herself off of his lap, and then held her hand out to him.  "C'mon."

"Where are we going?" Jake asked, standing.

Smiling at him, she took the picture frame out of the gift box, leaving the remains of the wrapping on the table.  "To find the perfect place for this," Heather explained.  Without saying another word, she led him around the coffee table and then down the hallway to her bedroom.

"Heather," Jake frowned, stopping just outside her door.  He had only been in her bedroom a few times - to retrieve suitcases the two times she'd gone home to Buffalo, and then one rainy Saturday a few weeks before when he'd  helped her install new curtain rods - having consciously avoided putting that pressure on Heather.  But God, it was what he wanted.  He closed his eyes momentarily, remembering the sensation of her body pressed against his, the desire he'd seen in her eyes earlier that afternoon at April's and Eric's.  Before, she hadn't been ready for this step and he'd always - with effort - managed to take a step back, to follow the cues she offered, whether she was aware of them or not. He hoped he wasn't misreading her signal now, because damn it, it was getting so hard to back off when all he wanted was her, and all he could think about was her.

"What?" she asked startling him out of his internal reverie.  Heather smiled at him over her shoulder.  "April said she keeps her picture of Eric on her dresser, and that makes sense, right?"

"Sure," he acknowledged, swallowing hard as he stepped over the threshold.  Heather threw him a distracted smile and dropped his hand.  Staying a few feet back, Jake watched as she set the picture frame in practically the only bare spot on the bureau top.  She started to rearrange things, shifting her jewelry box over a few inches, throwing a hairbrush and a bottle of hand lotion into a small basket, and then switching a framed picture of her father and three older brothers for the one of the two of them in front of his grandfather's plane at the Rock Springs airport.

Spotting a loose photo propped up against the lamp, Jake took a deep breath and stepped closer, picking it up.  It was another picture of them, taken during his parents' Christmas open house, though he had no recollection of being photographed.  His arm was around Heather and they were both laughing at something.  Jake returned the picture to its place against the lamp and glanced sideways at Heather.  "You know at this rate, you're gonna run out of room before the end of this year," he joked, though there was a hint of roughness in his voice that earned him a quizzical look from Heather.

"Well, I've got three hundred and sixty five days," she returned, adding, "And I can always try rotating pictures.  Heather took a sideways step toward Jake, bumping her hip against his and looked up at him grinning.  "Whaddya think?" she inquired, pointing out the placement of his mother's gift.

"It fits?" Jake tried.

She groaned, burying her face against his arm for a second.  "Well, you're absolutely right," she laughed, raising her head.  "It fits."  Still giggling, Heather moved between the dresser and Jake to stand facing him.  "Hey," she murmured a few seconds later, their eyes locking.

"Hey," he returned thickly, studying her closely.  Heather's expression was suddenly unfathomable, and Jake frowned in concern, asking, "You okay?"

Heather nodded silently.  She was more than okay.  She loved him, and she was ready to show him exactly how much.  Placing her hand on his chest, she forced him to take a step back, then another and another, until he encountered the end of her bed.  Still, she didn't speak, just continued to smile at him and press her hand against his chest until finally he gave in and sat down.  Immediately, she dropped into his lap, sitting sideways across his legs and winding her arms around his neck.  Eyes wide, she smiled at him hesitantly, but didn't say anything.  She couldn't say anything, could barely make herself breathe or hear her own thoughts over the pounding of her heart in her ears.

"Babe," Jake began, clearing his throat, only to be cut off by a kiss.  Her tongue swept over his lips demanding entry, and he could only comply.  By the time Jake had his next coherent thought, he was lying on his back, Heather on top of him, peppering his face with kisses.  "Babe," he tried again, attempting to sit up.  Obviously reluctant, she let him up, sitting back on her haunches, straddling his leg.  He blew out a shallow breath and flashed her a quick smile, one hand finding its way into her hair.  Their eyes locked, and Jake recognized the intention - the passion - in her gaze.  "We don't have to do this," he assured, brushing his lips across hers to prevent the frown he saw starting to form there.

Groaning softly, Jake closed his eyes.  He couldn't quite believe he was arguing against doing this, but the thinking part of his brain knew that there were still things that they needed to talk about - most importantly, whether or not she was truly ready to take this step - and as much as he wanted to just go with the moment, he knew he couldn't risk everything else they had together by rushing this.  Taking a ragged breath, he offered her the slightest of smiles.  "Babe, we don't have to do this," Jake repeated, pressing a finger to her mouth. "Not now.  Not just because I asked you to marry me." 

He was giving her an out, she realized.  Backing off, like he had so many times before when their physical chemistry had threatened to outstrip her emotional readiness.  She loved him all the more for it.  "Jake, I was ready for this six weeks ago," Heather reminded, smiling and kissing his finger before pulling his hand into hers.  "Not so much a month ago," she laughed nervously, eliciting a wry grin and a gentle snort from Jake.  "That was such a stupid fight, but you know, I wouldn't change what happened," she sighed, tilting her head forward so that her hair hid her face from him for a moment.  "Because at least I know now what it felt like to really be - really be apart from you.  Not just because you were off in Denver for work, but really separated," Heather explained, raising her head.  "I hated it, but at least it helped me realize how much I truly love you.  How much I want to be with you, in every way.  Now that we have the opportunity," she smiled shyly, "Tonight.  Besides," Heather added a beat later, a blush warming her cheeks, "We're getting married.  I'm assuming we both want sex to be a part of that."

He groaned again, bringing his mouth down on top of Heather's.  "Just - just a little bit," he muttered, lifting his head and resting his forehead against hers.  "And - trust me - I want to begin that part of our - our life together with you, but we can't," Jake told her, his eyes falling closed.  Heather felt the sudden tension in his frame and she watched him, concerned, as frustration - almost anger - expanded his frown.  "I don't have anything with me," he admitted, shaking his head. 

"Okay," she acknowledged, though her confusion was evident.  "I don't -"

"Protection, Heather," he ground out, interrupting her.  He saw her startle at the harshness of his reaction and they both pulled away a few inches.  "I'm sorry, babe," Jake chuckled humorlessly, scrubbing his face with his hand, while he silently berated himself for taking his frustration out on her.  "I -"

"But I'm - I'm on the pill, Jake," Heather announced, cutting him off.

He stared at her for a long moment, finally stammering out, "You're - you're what?"

"I'm on the pill," she repeated, offering him an embarrassed smile.  "Since Halloween.  I'd been thinking about it since that night - the night we went to Bass Lake.  Well, really, since I met you," Heather corrected herself, looking down at her folded hands.  "But the day after Halloween I asked April if she could write me a prescription, which she did.  Plus, clued me in that I probably wanted to go to the pharmacy in Fielding," she sighed, glancing up to meet his gaze.

Suddenly feeling very grateful for his sister-in-law, Jake let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.  "Babe, I just assumed -" he broke off, shaking his head.  "You're really on the pill?" he questioned.  "'Cause I didn't think -"

"Because I'm Catholic?" Heather guessed.  "Jake, hon," she giggled self-consciously, "I'm Catholic, but I'm not that Catholic.  My parents were," she admitted, her nose wrinkling, "But I don't know anyone else who is.  My sisters-in-law sure aren't leaving it all up to God, trust me," she declared, snorting softly.  "Besides," Heather grinned a few seconds later, "It seems to me that when a good Catholic girl marries into the Green family, she turns Protestant, and that's the end of that."

Jake laughed somewhat uneasily.  "Well, I guess that is the precedent," he agreed, "But you don't have to change anything - especially not that - for me."

"Well, I wasn't exactly offering," she chuckled softly, "But that's good to know."  She reached for his hand, squeezing his fingers gently.  "'Cause I don't know that my Dad would survive that, too," she sighed.

"Right," he nodded, clearing his throat.  "So you really have to stay Catholic."

"I think so," Heather agreed, smiling at him.  She took a deep breath.  "I want - I want to be married awhile - probably for a good while - before I get pregnant," she told him, once again starting to blush.  "I want children of course, but I also want it to be just us for a bit," she insisted. "Maybe even for a couple of years.  And there are things - I want to get my master's first."

"Yeah," Jake agreed, exhaling deeply.  He reached for her hand and, tugging on it, demanded gently, "C'm'ere."  Heather obliged, scooting toward him on her knees and then allowing him to pull her down onto his lap.  "I think - I think if you give me a couple of years before we talk kids," he told her, lifting her hair so he could press his lips to the sensitive spot behind her ear, "Then I'll be ready."

"That I can do," Heather agreed, letting her head fall back against his shoulder.  Jake wrapped both his arms around her, hugging her tightly.  Smiling, she twisted around to plant a kiss on his jaw.  "A little bit of a disappointment for your mother, though," she joked.  "I swear I witnessed the exact moment this morning when it occurred to her that her chances of being a grandmother any time soon had just doubled."

"How 'bout we let April and Eric have the first crack at that?" he suggested, his warm breath on her cheek sending a lovely shiver up Heather's spine.

"That sounds like a plan," Heather agreed, finding his hand and lacing their fingers together.

"And, how 'bout we don't talk about anyone in either of our families for the rest of the night," Jake requested, resting his cheek against hers.

He felt Heather smile.  "An even better plan," she acknowledged, laughing softly.

They sat wrapped together in comfortable silence for a long moment, trading chaste touches and kisses, but not speaking.  Finally, Jake began to urge Heather from his lap, earning himself a curious look, though she allowed him to push her off.  Landing on the mattress next to him, she watched as Jake scooted forward to the end of the bed and began loosening his bootlaces. 

"You know, I've probably taken about a million cold showers since our first date," he confessed then, laughing softly.  He looked sideways at Heather as she settled herself next to him, winking at her, and cupping her chin with one hand before placing a light kiss on her mouth.  Releasing her, Jake noted fondly that the tips of her ears were pink, and he caught himself wondering - definitely not for the first time - just how much her clothes hid from the world whenever she blushed.  Now he realized, inhaling sharply, he would no doubt learn the answer before the night was over.  Jake pulled off his boot and dropped it on the floor.  "First, you climbed into my lap," he accused, grinning.  "Right in the middle of town hall -"

"It wasn't the middle of town hall," she giggled in protest.  "The town council chambers are not the middle of town hall."

"Close enough," he argued with a laugh.  Leaning down, he worked to unlace his other boot, though the whole time he was looking back at Heather, their gazes locked.  "Climbed into my lap and kissed me senseless," Jake teased.  "Then tortured me by eating ice cream more enthusiastically then I've ever seen anyone eat it in my entire life, before telling me in no uncertain terms that you wouldn't sleep with me, even if I was dying."  Throwing his other boot down, Jake sat up, offering her a wide grin.  "Cold shower city, babe," he assured her, reaching for her leg.  "Cold shower city," Jake repeated, planting Heather's foot on his thigh and beginning to work on her shoe.  "God, I started to fall in love with you that night," he sighed, removing her sneaker and then her sock. 

Heather turned toward Jake, raising her other foot to his lap.  "I was half in love with you by the time you left my house, that first night we met," she admitted.  "I so wanted you to kiss me," Heather sighed as he eased her shoe off of her foot.  "And then, all you did was play with my hair," she complained, throwing him a mock glare.  "Well, I hafta tell you, I'm expecting quite a bit more tonight."

She turned beet red almost before the words were out of her mouth, and Jake let go of her now bare foot and dragged her into his embrace, hugging her fiercely.  "Well, I'm pretty sure I can find the time to kiss you and to play with your hair both tonight," he teased, nipping gently at the corner of her mouth. 

"That's a start anyway," she giggled, turning into his kiss. 

"I love you," Jake murmured, resting his chin on top of her head a moment later.  "And, I would never intentionally do anything to hurt you," he continued, squeezing her hand.  "I - it's been awhile since I -"

"Jake, it's been my whole life for me," she told him quietly, hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

"I know, babe," he sighed, combing his hand through her hair.  "And, I'm doing this all wrong," he grumbled.  "All - all I'm trying to say is, that I haven't since before I came back to Jericho.  But I have been in the hospital," Jake reminded, massaging her scalp.  "And I had this pushy doctor whom we both know, but whom will remain nameless," he chuckled.

"Well, that is part of the plan for the evening," Heather laughed nervously, pulling back so she could look him in the eye.

 "Yeah," Jake agreed around the lump that formed in his throat as he identified the concern, but also the trust, in her expression.  "But it's okay.  Everything's good," he told her, brushing a wisp of hair off her face.  "Because this pushy doctor thought she should run nearly every test imaginable since I was already there.  She said I'd thank her later, and now I just might," Jake admitted, exhaling deeply.  "But now I know that - I know that I'm absolutely healthy, and there's nothing to worry about on that - on that score."

She stared at him with wide, bright eyes.  "I never - it didn't occur to me to even ask," she confessed quietly.

"That's okay," he said, offering her a gentle smile.  "I just wanted you to know."

"Thank you," Heather nodded.

Jake reached for her hand, raising it to his mouth to brush a kiss across her knuckles before stroking his thumb over the blue sapphire of her engagement ring.   Then, moving into the middle of the bed, Jake rolled onto his side, patting the spot next to him in invitation.  "I love you," he murmured after she'd joined him, curling a strand of her hair around his finger and lowering his mouth to hers for a kiss.

* * * * * * * *

Wednesday, January 2, five years before the bombs

"Babe," Jake whispered, shaking Heather's shoulder, trying to wake her.  Much like the previous morning, she'd pulled the covers up so high that only the top of her head was visible.  "Heather, sweetheart," he tried again, but still she didn't stir.  Finally he leaned over, burying his face in her mussed hair, kissing the top of her head.  "Babe," he murmured.

"Love you," Heather muttered almost unintelligibly into her pillow.

Jake couldn't help but smile.  "I love you, too," he returned, yawning.  "Can you wake up for me, babe?" Jake requested.  "Just for a little bit?"

"What?" she asked rolling toward him, rubbing her eyes with one hand.  "What's goin' on?" Heather yawned.

Jake caught himself grinning stupidly as he studied her by the dim glow that bled into the bedroom from the hallway where he'd left the light on when he'd returned from the bathroom.  Words like 'adorable' and 'gorgeous' and 'mine' came to mind as he watched her, and he wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed and wrap himself around her.  Only, he reminded himself, he couldn't.

"What time is it?" Heather asked, balancing herself on her elbows.  She looked at him blearily, frowning.  Sitting up, she leaned toward him, demanding, "Are you leaving?  You're dressed," she complained, laying her hand on his bare stomach.

"Half dressed," he replied, fingering the sleeve of the t-shirt - his - that she was wearing.  "I've been looking for this," he teased, remembering belatedly that he'd given it to her an hour or so before when she'd woken up cold. 

"Mine now," Heather told him.  "It smells like you," she added, tugging the shirt up to her nose with one hand, while the fingers of her other hand stroked lightly over his stomach.

"I'm pretty sure you smell like me now, too," he chuckled huskily.  Heather's hand dipped down to the waistband of his jeans and, shivering, Jake grabbed it, forcing her to stop.  "Babe," he complained half-heartedly, "I have to go."

"No," she pouted.  "Too early," she yawned, looking away to check the digital alarm clock on her bedside table.  "Jake, it's four thirty two," Heather whined.  "Come back to bed," she ordered, patting him on the hip.

"Oh, babe, I want to, trust me," he told her.  Heaving a deep sigh, Jake gave into what he well knew was a dangerous impulse, and lay down beside her.  Heather turned immediately into his arms, pressing her lips to his collarbone.  Jake caught her head in both his hands and then gently urged her onto her back.  Capturing her mouth with his own, Jake kissed her passionately.  "Trust me I want to stay right here with you," he assured Heather moments later, lifting himself off of her.  "For the rest of the day - for the rest of the week - forever.  But if I go now, then just maybe it's not all over town by noon that I spent the night."

"Right," Heather murmured in acknowledgment, frowning.  "Ugh," she groaned a second later, rubbing her eye with the heel of her hand.  "Who cares?  We're getting married.  Your Mom told everybody she talked to on the phone yesterday, and going over to the Thoms' for soup mix was a complete fabrication.  April found two boxes in the pantry thirty seconds after she walked out the door," Heather chuckled.  "So I'm sure half of Jericho already knows you proposed."

Nodding, Jake closed his eyes for a moment.  "And most people wouldn't say a thing," he agreed.  "But Karen Harper doesn't really like either of us, and I don't want - I don't want the fact that I love you becoming a school board matter," he explained, reaching for her hand.  "And as hokey as it all sounds," Jake sighed, kissing the tip of her index finger and then the tip of her middle finger, "What Gramps said yesterday makes a certain amount of sense.  Your reputation is in my hands and I'm gonna protect it."

Heather pulled herself up, shivering slightly as the covers dropped down around her waist.  She frowned at him, and then attempted a small smile, shaking her head.  "It's my reputation," she muttered, "It's in my hands, too."

"Hey, all I'm saying is, I don't think you want your neighbors waking up and seeing my car in your driveway," Jake argued, holding up his hands in mock surrender.  "But if you want everyone knowing our business, then hey, I can stay," he offered, scooting toward her.  He stopped a second later when Heather laid her hand on his chest, right over his heart.

"When will you be back?" she asked with a sigh.

"A few hours," he promised pressing a kiss to her forehead.  "Just long enough for Mr. Berry to get his paper and for Mrs. Nolan to bring in her cat, and for both of them to see that you're alone," Jake murmured against her skin.

"It was fifteen degrees out last night and flurrying," Heather grumbled.  "I'm sure Mrs. Nolan kept Otis inside."  She pulled away from him, yawning and stretching.

"Ah yes," Jake nodded, "It is freezing out there.  And here I am, about to go out into it without a shirt," he sighed loudly.  A grin twitched at his lips, growing as his gaze drifted downward.  His t-shirt was tight on him, and on Heather it was almost obscene.

"I told you it was mine," Heather giggled.  "You should learn to layer," she suggested, "Then you'd still have one."  She raised her hands over her head again, one eyebrow arched.  "Enjoying the view?" she inquired, throwing him a playful smile.

Jake laughed, shaking his head.  If Heather hadn't known before the power she held over him, then she'd certainly learned it overnight, and she was feeling it this morning, for sure.  He loved it, as much as he loved her.  "I do believe I am allowed to look," he told her, grinning.

"I do believe you are allowed to touch, too," she returned. 

"Okay then," Jake declared, expelling a shallow breath.  He patted her quickly on the leg and began to get up.  "I think I'm gonna have to take a rain check and leave now while I still can."

"Well, if you must," Heather said, batting her eyelashes at him, although the effect was ruined when she yawned a few seconds in, automatically covering her mouth with her hand. 

"So, if I kiss you goodbye you're not gonna hit me over the head and drag me back in there with you, are you?" he teased.

Heather shook her head.  "Nah.  To be honest, I'd rather not be the hot topic of gossip around town."  She smiled at him.  "You're safe.  For now."

Jake leaned back toward Heather, kissing her softly.  "I'll be back around nine," he told her, running his thumb over her lower lip.  "Maybe ten, 'cause I'm gonna take a nap.  I do believe you wore me out, Miss Lisinski," he teased, leering at her affectionately.

"Go away," she laughed, kissing his bare shoulder, her teeth grazing his skin, before giving him a shove.  "Oh, hey, hand me the water," Heather requested, pointing to the bottle on the bedside table next to him.

He climbed to his feet, grabbing the water bottle and shaking it.  There were at most two sips left.  "Sorry," he muttered, holding it out to her.  "Guess we were thirsty."  That statement, of all things, prompted her to blush.  "Sorry," Jake repeated. 

"It's okay," she chuckled, shaking her head.  She unscrewed the bottle's top and finished it off in one swallow before rolling over to the edge of the bed.  "Cold," Heather complained as her feet touched the floor.

"You're tellin' me," Jake joked, watching her closely as she came around the end of the bed, modestly tugging his t-shirt down, though it still left him with an intriguing view of her panties.  She was moving a little slowly, and he had no doubt she'd be feeling the full effects of their night together later in the day.  "I've got a key," he reminded, frowning.  He bent over to retrieve his boots.  "You don't have to walk me out."

"I know," Heather replied, dragging her hand across his stomach as she moved past him.  "And if you must know, I've gotta pee," she explained, glancing back over her shoulder. 

Jake followed Heather out of the bedroom, parting company with her at the bathroom door.  In the living room, he put his boots on, and then donned his parka leaving it unzipped.  Laughing to himself, he went back down the hall, stopping in the kitchen first.  He was leaning against the opposite wall when Heather exited the bathroom.

"You're the only one I'd do this for," he told her, gesturing at his bare chest underneath his open coat.

"Well, thank you," Heather chuckled softly, smiling.  "I do love my new shirt," she assured him, yawning.  "And my new ring," she added, holding up her hand so they could both admire it.  "You're really quite generous."

 "Here," Jake grinned, rolling his eyes and handing Heather a fresh bottle of water.  "I love you," he murmured, capturing her free hand and pulling her to him.  "Get some sleep," he ordered, kissing her quickly.

"Love you, too," Heather agreed, zipping his parka up.  She patted the spot over his heart, tilting her head up for another kiss.  "Drive safe."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Wednesday, December 27, three months after the bombs

"'Scuse me," Michael muttered, extracting the thermometer from between Jake's clamped lips.  He took a step back - and then a quick step to the left - working to avoid knocking into his sister as she wrapped another blanket around her husband.  But the room was too dark for him to read the thermometer and, stepping around April this time - she was attempting to take Jake's pulse - he made his way to the window, in search of better light.

"I don't know," Heather frowned, continuing to fuss with Jake's blankets, bumping into April in the process.  "Maybe we shouldn't have moved him from the med center," she fretted, cupping her husband's head with one hand.  "He can't stop shivering!"

"Shivering's good," April returned, her tone clearly calculated to calm.  She smiled at Jake, letting his hand drop back into his lap.  "And so's your pulse," she declared, "Right where we want it.  And we want shivering," she added, shaking her head at Heather as the younger woman continued to tug at the blankets she'd piled on Jake.  "Shivering means his body's back in the fight."

Heather, who was taking hovering to levels that heretofore in the Green family had only been seen in her mother-in-law, frowned harder.  "You're sure?  He still feels so cold," she argued, accidentally stepping on April's foot.

His temperature's actually up, Heth," Michael assured his sister as he turned around, shaking down the thermometer out of habit.  "A tick below ninety six."

"He really is better off here than at the med center," April added.  "With only the emergency power which we can't even use today with Gray on my case...." She shrugged, offering Heather a sympathetic smile.  "It's - it really is warmer here."

Gray Anderson - clued in by Bill Kilroy - had shown up at the clinic just after five AM demanding to know what the hell was going on.  While he had backed down some when he'd seen Jake, he'd also grumbled enough about the extravagant use of scarce community resources for a single person - conveniently forgetting Stanley and Mimi, who had also spent the night under medical observation - that April had decided to send Jake home.  He'd finished his IV a few hours before and she hadn't had any real justification for keeping him at the med center when there was a perfectly good fire to warm him at home.  At first light, they had gotten Jake dressed before bundling him into Johnston's truck and driving him back to the house.

Adding another log to the fire, Johnston straightened, cleared his throat, and suggested, "I've got a coupl'a bricks out in the garage I use for doorstops, mostly.  We could heat 'em up and wrap 'em in something.  Almost as good as a heating pad."

"Good idea," April agreed, flashing her father-in-law a quick smile.

"I'll go get the bricks," Michael offered, already hurrying toward the kitchen.  He met Gail backing through the door into the dining room, a tray in her hands, and they traded tired looks as they also traded places.

"Here, honey," Gail sighed, setting the tray down on the coffee table near the ottoman - close to the fire - which Johnston and Michael had deposited Jake on a few minutes earlier.  She picked up an oversized tea cup, stepping around Heather, exchanging worried smiles with her son's wife.  "I looked through the pantry because I just knew we still had some hot chocolate powder.  I found one envelope.  I only used half -"

"Hot cocoa's good," April replied as her mother-in-law held the cup to her son's lips.  "The sugar's good.  Hot, sweet drinks - just what he needs."

"Okay, good," Gail nodded, asking, "What about his injuries?"

April couldn't quite suppress a sigh as she had to once again explain the status of Jake's wounds and just how lucky her brother-in-law was.  "Well, the cut on his head isn't very deep," she reminded, "And neither of his legs are broken."  That, in itself, was a miracle.  "He's very, very lucky," she stressed, looking between Gail and Heather.

"I - I'm fr - freezing," Jake stammered out, his first contribution to the conversation since they'd gotten him home.

"You're still hypothermic," April told him, frowning sympathetically.  "It's going to take a few hours for your body to stabilize."

"I'll get you some more blankets," Gail clucked, patting his hand.

She started to turn away, but Heather stopped her, laying a hand on her arm.  "I got everything that was down here, in the hall closet," she told her mother-in-law, stifling a yawn.  "But I can - I can get the blankets off our bed," she offered.

"No, sweetheart, you're dead on your feet," Gail objected, "And you're going to need those blankets because you're going to go upstairs and get some sleep," she commanded.  "Future grandmother's orders." 

"I'm gonna stay down here with Jake," Heather began, only to be drowned out by a chorus of protests.

"And, warm him up?" April snorted.  "I believe I've already explained the hole in that particular theory," she added, wringing out a washcloth she'd dipped in a pan of hot water.  She placed the hot compress on the back of Jake's neck.  "He's just as likely to make you cold - hypothermic, even - as you are to warm him up," April reminded.  It had turned out, when she'd found Heather in Jake's hospital bed the night before, that she'd had grounds for busting them after all.

"Babe, g - go get s - some sleep," Jake countered through chattering teeth, "I'm - I'm not g - goin' any - anywhere."

"Heather, darlin', you need to get your rest," Johnston added.  "You too, April.  For those grandbabies of mine.  Gail and I can handle the first shift, we've done it before.  Colic, ear infections, the chicken pox -"

"And a full body case of poison-ivy," his wife completed for him, putting her arm around Heather's shoulders.  The reference to one of the more embarrassing episodes of his childhood didn't seem to even register with Jake, and Gail frowned.  "Well, I think we can handle anything after that," she declared, forcing a chipper note.  "I'll walk you upstairs, sweetheart, and get the blankets from the linen closet up there."

"Babe," Jake prompted, reaching for Heather's hand, his trembling fingers twining around hers.  "Go - go 'head."

"Okay," she conceded reluctantly.  "But just for a few hours," she insisted.  Sighing softly, Heather leaned down, brushing a quick kiss over Jake's chapped and cracked lips.  "You - you'll wake me up?" she requested as Gail began to lead her out of the room.

"Yes, if anything changes, we'll wake you up," Gail agreed.  "You too, April," she prompted, waiting for her other daughter-in-law to join them.  "Grandpa's orders," Gail reminded, wrapping her free arm around April and then steering them both toward the stairs.

"We've got bricks!"  Michael announced seconds later, elbowing his way through the door from the kitchen, balancing three of the red clay blocks on his arm and against his chest. 

Johnston crossed the room, intercepting the young man and taking the bricks from him.  "Maybe get some dish towels from the kitchen?  To wrap these in?" he suggested.  "But, uh, let me have a minute?" he added, cocking his head toward Jake. 

"Su-ure," Michael nodded, quickly taking in the scene: Heather, April and Gail starting up the staircase, Jake shivering away on the ottoman, and Johnston's stone-faced, almost grim, expression.  "I'll - I'll be in the kitchen," he declared, pointing back over his shoulder with his thumb.

Jake watched his brother-in-law's hasty retreat, and then his father as he walked back toward him, carrying the three bricks to the hearth.  As Johnston passed, their eyes met for a second, just long enough for Jake to sense the coming conversation.  Grimacing, he looked away, closing his eyes.  "Dad," he began, clearing his throat.  "Dad ... what I t - told you out there," he mumbled, shaking his head.  "Pl - please ... forget it," he begged.  "Please."   

"'Fraid I can't do that," Johnston answered into the fire.  Using the tongs, he laid the last brick against the coals inside the fireplace.  He replaced the tongs in their rack and, inhaling deeply, turned around to face his son.  "I've seen a lot of things in my time, Jake," he said, a rough edge to his voice, as he stepped closer, dropping to a seat on the coffee table.  "I've been to war, and I know what war can do, I know what man can do.  Terrible, terrible things."

Johnston faced Jake, taking a moment to study his son.  Mere inches separated them, but at the same time the gulf that had existed between them for so long seemed to grow wider as they stared at one another.  Guilt and pain were etched into Jake's bruised and bloodied face and Johnston, aching for his child, tried to find the words that might give him solace and let him know that he wasn't alone.  "I know what I did," he admitted, somehow holding his son's gaze.  "You - you can talk to me."

"No." Jake's reply was anguished and Johnston knew that his trembling lip had nothing to with his hypothermia.  "No, no, I can't - they - they can't know," he insisted, fighting a sob.  His shaking was worse, and he clutched at the blankets wrapped around him.  "Heather - Mom - they - you can't - can't tell them," he rasped out.  "Heather - she's - she's having a baby and I - I - I killed - I killed -" 

Jake broke off, the tears in his eyes matched by the ones in his father's eyes.  "Son, I promise, anything you tell me....  I won't repeat," Johnston swore.  He leaned over, cupping his son's head with one hand, hoping to offer him what comfort he could.  "But don't underestimate your wife, and don't - don't try to bottle this up.  This - the guilt can eat you alive, Jake.  Trust me."

"I - I can't, Dad," Jake countered.  He sucked in a deep breath, trying to regain his composure, but to Johnston he just looked spent.  Haunted.  "I can't," he repeated insistently.  "She'd never - never look at me the same...."  A silent sob shuddered through Jake as tears seeped from his red rimmed eyes, rolling, ignored, down the bridge of his nose.   Exhaling shakily, he dropped his head, hiding from his father.  "I can't - can't risk it.  I can't!"

"Okay, okay," Johnston soothed, stroking his son's head like he last had when Jake had been a little boy home sick with a cold or the flu or chicken pox.  "But you can talk to me," he assured, "When you're ready, Son."  Feeling distinctly helpless, Johnston let out a long sigh, and then leaned over to press a kiss to the top of Jake's head.  "When you're ready."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

To continue in Different Circumstances, Part 14.



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