Karen Rose - Count to Ten

"I don't seem to have a choice." One side of her mouth tipped up. "That was a lousy thing to do, manipulating rue like that. Putting Lauren out of her own house."

His thumb moved to her lower lip, fanning back and forth. "Technically, it's my house. She just rents." He paused a half beat. "The guest room on that side has a really comfortable bed. King size. Firm mattress."

"Mine's firm enough," she said blandly, but her eyes darkened. "What else?"

"Well… There is the firepole. And the trapeze. And the trampoline."

She laughed. "You win. I'll pack."

He followed her back to her bedroom. It looked like a tornado had gone through, sheets and blankets in a tangled mess on the floor. Just as they'd left them early this morning. He eyed the bed, then her. She was eyeing it, too. Then shook her head.

"No," she said. "Not with half of CSU combing the street outside my window."

Hurriedly and without fuss she stuffed a duffel bag with the things she'd need, then hesitated, her hand on a small framed photo. Two teenaged girls smiled brightly for the camera, but even though they stood close, they didn't touch. "You and Kelsey?"

"Yeah." She shoved in the bag. "I need to tell her about Olivia, but I'm afraid to visit her in the new place. I'm afraid to even know where it is."

"So…" He hooked a finger under her chin, lifted her face. It was the first time she'd mentioned the woman other than to take her statement and wish her a pleasant evening. Jack had figured out who she was, but Reed knew Mia wasn't anxious to broadcast the woman's identity to every uniform within earshot. "Tell me about Olivia."

She shrugged. "You know everything I do. We're going to try to get together for an hour tomorrow night and talk." She started to shoulder the bag, but he took it from her.

"Let me. Please," he added when her eyes flashed. It was so hard for her to accept help in any form. Tough. She'd have to learn to accept his.

For how long? That would depend on the conversation they'd have as soon as he got her back to his house. That would depend on her expectations. Right now, he was praying he hadn't misjudged her need for independence. And strings.

She nodded, walked to her front door, then stopped. "Fuck," she muttered, then wrenched open the closet door. Sitting all alone was the small box and trifolded flag. Teeth clenched, she grabbed the box and shoved it in the bag as well. "Let's go."

Thursday, November 30. 10:40 P.M.

"Olivia Sutherland?" Dana's tone was thoughtful as it came across the phone line.

Mia sat at Lauren's kitchen table. Reed's sister had prepared the guest room with matching towels and perfumed soap. Mia had almost pushed the soap aside, but was glad she hadn't. The scent was calming and, ridiculous as it sounded, feminine.

She'd thought of Reed as she'd used it, wondering if he'd like it, knowing he would. Knowing that was probably Lauren's intent all along. Sisters. Reed's and now… mine .

"She wore a jacket just like mine, but somehow looked better in it."

"You want Ethan to check her out?"

"That's okay. She gave all her info when we took her statement. If she doesn't check out, we'll know soon enough. She hated me. Before anyway."

"It had to be hard growing up without a dad, knowing he'd chosen someone else."

"And I grew up wishing I could be someone else."

"You're not going to let this chance slip away, are you? Please tell me you won't."

"No, I won't. I thought about what you said. About filet mignon and hamburger."

"That was with respect to men," Dana said dryly. "Not women and especially not women related to you. That's just wrong, Mia."

"Shut up. I meant, I thought about making do versus having it all. I've already missed too much by waiting for my life to settle, to be normal. Maybe Olivia and I can have a relationship, maybe not. She made the first step. I'll make the next one. And if nothing else, at least I can cure her of her misinformed view of her father."

Dana was silent, then asked, "How much will you tell her, Mia?"

"I don't know. Not all, I guess. Too much information and all that."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

Mia smiled. If nothing else, she had a good best friend. "I'll think about it."

"Did you think any more about what I said about hamburger with respect to men ?"

Mia lifted her eyes to the ceiling. "Yes."

"And?"

She blew out a breath. "The man's no hamburger, Dana."

"Oh?" There was a cagey delight in Dana's voice. 'Tell me."

"Prime rib." She thought about the way he'd felt. The way he'd made her feel. "Way prime." And as if she'd conjured him, there he was at the back door. "Oops. Gotta go."

"Wait," Dana protested. "You never told me where you were tonight."

Reed was making faces outside the window. "I'm safe," she said and leisurely came to her feet. "And I'm about to… consume sustenance."

"Call me tomorrow and be prepared to be a little more forthcoming with the details."

Mia hung up and let him in. He'd also showered and changed, dressed in a pair of worn jeans and an old jersey, his feet sockless in a pair of gleaming leather loafers. The man did love his shoes. He shivered. "I misplaced my key to this side."

They stood, measuring each other in the quiet of his sister's kitchen. Then she tilted her head. "You lied. There's no firepole and no trapeze."

He didn't smile. "But there is a trampoline out in the backyard."

All of the sudden she didn't feei like smiling either. "So spill it, Solliday."

He didn't pretend to misunderstand. "We need to set some ground rules."

Rules. She could deal with rules. She had a few of her own. "Okay."

He frowned. Looked away for a minute, then back. "Why are you single?"

The question raised her hackles. "Hectic schedule," she said sarcastically. "Never found time to pencil in the fitting for my wedding gown."

He exhaled. "I'm serious."

Trouble was, so was she. Still, she found another answer, equally true. "I'm a cop."

"Lots of cops marry."

"And lots get divorced. Look. I'm a good cop. Being married is difficult enough under ideal circumstances. I don't think I could be good at both things at the same time."

The answer seemed to relax him. "Have you been?"

"What, married? No." She hesitated, then shrugged. "Engaged once, but no cigar." She regarded him evenly. "Why have you never remarried?"

His eyes locked on hers, sober and intent. "Do you believe in soul mates?"

"No." But her mind pricked. Dana and Ethan were. Abe and Kristen were. Bobby and Annabelle… were not. "For some people, maybe," she amended.

"But not you?"

"No, not me. Why? Was Christine your soul mate?"

He nodded. "Yes."

His conviction was unassailable. "And you only get one?" she asked.

"I don't know," he said honestly. "But I've never met anyone else like her and I'm not willing to settle for second best."

She couldn't stop the wince. "Well, that's direct."

"I don't want to lie to you. I don't want to misrepresent myself to you. I like you. Respect you." He looked down at his shiny shoes. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You just want to have sex with me." It came out flatter than she'd intended.

He looked up, wary. "Basically. Yes."

Irritation jabbed. "So why not pick up some woman in a bar?"

His dark eyes flashed. "I don't want a one-night stand. Dammit. I don't want to get married, but that doesn't mean I'll settle for… Never mind. I was wrong to start this."

"Wait."

He paused, hand clenched on the doorknob and said nothing.

"Let me get this straight. You want sex with someone you respect, whose company you can enjoy on a limited basis.