Iris Johansen - Always

"Tommy?"

"Yes." Incredibly, after all these years, she did want to talk about Tommy. It was as if a festering sore had been lanced and must now be purged.

"Then tell me." His arms tightened lovingly about her. "Tell me all about Tommy. Make me know him, Lisa."

And she did. Once she started, the words refused to stop. She lay there in his arms, her voice almostdreamlike as she rebuilt a world that she'd thought she had lost forever. It was not without pain. The tears flowed and ceased and flowed again as hours passed and pictures of the past flickered, became real, and then faded once again.

Clancy was silent, listening, and only his hand moved as he gently stroked her temple.

Finally the words ceased and Lisa was also silent. She lay curled against him like a weary child, drained, empty, but curiously at peace. She didn't know if it was fifteen minutes or an hour later when she broke that silence by whispering, "Thank you."

His arms tightened around her. "Don't thank me. Tommy is a part of you, and you shared him with me. You were the one giving gifts." He paused. "Is it better now?"

"Yes."

"Good." Another silence. "There isn't any way I can justify what happened to Tommy. I don't intend to, acushla. I can only share something I've learned over the years." His voice was unsteady. "I've lost quite a few people I've cared about. I've led a violent life, and I suppose it was inevitable. It never makes any sense, but it happens. When someone is taken from me, I try to use that grief."

"Use it?"

He nodded. "After I've accepted it, I try to channel all the memories and the love and let it flow to someone else. I guess it sounds a little strange, but I feel if I give enough of myself, enough of what I've been given by the one I've lost, somehow some part of that person will still survive. I don't have any real family anymore, but I have my friends in Sedikhan. Every time something happens, I give them more love, more protection, more caring." He grimaced. "By this time, all of them should be pretty well weighed down with it. Sort of weird, huh?"

"No, not weird at all," she whispered. "Beautiful."

"Well, it helps me, anyway. You might try it." He dropped a feather-light kiss on the top of her head. "Now I think I'd better let you get some sleep. You're exhausted." He stood up with her still in his arms and carried her over to the bed. He didn't bother to try to undress her, but settled her on the pillows and pulled the sheet over her.

"You're leaving?" She didn't want him to go. Something had happened in this room tonight. Intimacy had been established; bonds had been forged. In a strange way, she felt that if she had given him Tommy, she had also given a portion of herself. As for what he had given her… it could never be measured.

Clancy shook his head. "I'll stay right here." He turned out the lamp, then lay down on the bed beside her and took her in his arms. "I don't think the dreams will come, but I'll be right here to stop them if they do."

She didn't think they would come, either. He had given her so much; she should really send him away. "You don't have to stay. I'll be all right now."

His lips brushed the delicate skin at her temple. "Go to sleep," he said. "I want to stay."

She sighed contentedly and nestled against his hard strength. So hard, so strong, yet with a core of sensitivity and simple beauty that had shaken her profoundly. She was too tired to think of hiswords right now, but she knew she would soon and that they would bring her comfort. Giving. That's what he had said. Memories that constantly enriched, giving love and beauty to someone else, forming a chain that would last forever…

Lisa's breathing grew deep and even. She lay curved against him with the confiding trust of a little child. Thank heaven she'd fallen asleep so easily. Clancy knew he had taken a big risk tonight. There'd been a possibility that his instincts were wrong, that bringing the tragedy into the open would have done more harm than good. There had also been the chance that even if she'd recognized the necessity of his action, she'd have hated him for the pain he had caused. Neither of those things had happened, thank God.

He stroked her hair, staring absently into the darkness. Lisa was so alone, he reflected. He had tried to comfort her with his own philosophy, but he realized it might not apply in her case. Her dossier had stated that she had no close friends or relatives. Her parents were dead. Very possibly it was her isolation that kept her grief so raw and painful and caused her to turn inward and dwell on her loss. There had to be some way for him to help her conquer that isolation.

Clancy could feel the weariness dragging at him, and he steeled himself against it. He was almost as emotionally exhausted as Lisa, but he couldn't give in to it. Tonight he had stripped away the protective barrier against pain that she had built so carefully. By the time she awoke he had to be ready to give her something to replace it. He settled her slender body more closely against his own withinstinctive protectiveness and tried to concentrate his thoughts on what that elusive something would be.

It was still dark when Lisa awoke, and she was immediately conscious that Clancy was no longer beside her. It didn't alarm her. He had promised he would stay with her, and he wouldn't leave her. She didn't even question that instinctive and complete trust. It was just there. She sat up and brushed a tendril of hair away from her face. "Clancy?"

He was standing by the French doors. She could see the glimmer of his white shirt in the darkness. Then she saw the glimmer move and knew that he had turned to face her. "I'm right here. Everything's fine."

She knew that; she was experiencing a sense of peace and serenity she hadn't known for a long time. "Didn't you sleep at all?"

He came toward her. "I wasn't tired. Besides, I had some thinking to do. How do you feel?"

"Good," she said softly. "And very grateful. What time is it?"

"A little after three in the morning. Would you like to go back to sleep, or do you think you could eat something? You haven't had anything since breakfast yesterday."

"You and Galbraith are certainly concerned about my eating habits," she commented. "Perhaps I should furnish you with a few statistics documenting that thin is healthy." She shrugged. "I suppose I could eat something. I'm certainly toowide awake to go back to sleep." She threw aside the sheet. "But first I want to shower. I feel terribly slept in."

"All right." He flipped on the lamp by the bedside table. "I'll make an omelet for you while you shower."

"Fine." She hopped out of bed and crossed to the bureau. Pulling out underthings, slacks, and a loose green tunic blouse, she headed for the bathroom. "I'll be ready in fifteen minutes."

But when she came out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later, Clancy was still in the bedroom. He had flung the French doors wide and stood in the doorway looking out into the courtyard.

"Clancy?" She walked slowly toward him. "Is there something wrong?"

"No." He turned and gave her a reassuring smile. "I just thought we'd talk first. Is that all right with you?"

"Yes, of course." There was something about Clancy's demeanor that made her uneasy. "What is it?"

"I've been doing some thinking tonight." He took her hand and drew her out into the courtyard, where the heavy scent of honeysuckle and hibiscus drifted on the soft tropic air. "I've gone over everything time after time, but I can't come up with any other solution. I want you to know I'm not thinking of myself, though it will give me something I want, too. I honestly believe this is what you need."

"Clancy, I don't know what on earth you're talking about," she said. The lamplight from the bedroom was streaming through the open French doors, and she could see that Clancy's featureswere set and a bit grim. She laughed a little shakily. "For a man who's usually so blunt, you're certainly beating around the bush, Clancy."