"Dale Bailey," she whispered, blue eyes scanning the pages. "Twenty - five years old." With a heavy sigh, sadness in her heart, she replaced the chart, starting when she heard a loud beeping.
Maria Ortega almost threw her novel when she saw the red flashing light on the control panel before her, the light flashing next to the numbers - 301. Getting to her feet, she hurried into the room, noting the low hum of fluorescent lights about to die, though they weren't on, as well as the machines attached to Dale Bailey's vital signs were blaring their warning of impending heart failure. Switching off the alarm, she turned back to her patient to see her staring up at her. Maria crossed herself, whispering a short prayer in Spanish.
"I'm okay," Dale whispered, just as startled by the alarms.
"Where did the doctor go?" the nurse asked, resetting the machines. She had been told the same thing had happened once before, a week ago.
"She left," the blonde whispered, almost wistful as her eyes closed once again. "Pretty blue eyes," her words were almost unintelligible as she drifted off, leaving a baffled nurse standing next to her bed.
&&&
If Dale thought she knew boredom, she was sadly mistaken. She'd been in the hospital for a month, and was finally able to move around a bit. The only good thing about her stay was that she had been so doped up through the majority of it, she could barely remember her name. Even so, the last week they'd been easing her off meds, and now she felt the endless hours in all their endless glory.
Pulling herself up into a sitting position, grunting as her lower half, still encased in plaster, was heavy and still ached, she finally got settled. Always purely anti - soap opera, the blonde clicked to CBS, curious to see what her new favorite characters were up to, and what ridiculous situations they'd gotten themselves into since Friday afternoon.
"Which one is this?" Blake asked, walking into the room as he tossed his overcoat onto a chair.
"Young and the Restless," Dale answered, smiling up at her co - worker, thrilled to have company.
"You know last time I was here, it was As the World Turns."
"I know. I think it's the medication they have me on."
"Uh huh." Blake sat down, blowing out a breath after a long Monday. He'd taken up Dale's work load, so had been putting in twelve to fourteen hour days. He'd gone into the

lab at five - thirty that morning, and at one o'clock, he was already exhausted, especially since he knew he had another nine or so hours to go. It was a nice break, though, to stop by on his daily visit with the blonde.
"Yeah, well I don't exactly have the History Channel to tune into right now," Dale sighed, tossing the remote to the bed.
"Don't get pissy, Dale."
"I'm sorry." She rested her head against the pillows, looking at him. "Break me out of here."
Blake chuckled, shaking his head. "No way. The doctor said soon, right?"
"Another week!"
"Dale," Blake said, taking the blonde's hand in both of his. He looked into miserable green eyes. "You've been through hell and back, your body broken and put back together. It's a miracle you're still alive. Just be patient a little longer and you'll be home. Okay? In celebration I'll take you out for steak."
"Really?" the blonde brightened. Her co - worker, and one of her only friends, nodding with a chuckle. "This is so hard, Blake. I have truly never been so restless in all my life. Cabin fever can't even begin to describe how I'm feeling right now. I'm so tired of being drugged up. Did you know I had that same strange hallucination again the other night?"
"The blue - eyed midnight visitor?" Blake smirked, clearing his throat at the green daggers thrown his way. "How long will you be stuck in a wheelchair?" he asked at length.
"I'm not sure." Dale glanced woefully at the devil chair that was folded against the wall next to the bathroom. "I dread it. I can't even fathom how I'll manage in my apartment."
"I've told you, Dale, I'm more than willing to let you stay with me for awhile. It's an old house, and the doorways are wider, rooms are bigger . . . "
As Blake's voice trailed off, the blonde studied her friend. She had known for some time that he liked her, but had ignored it. The look of hope in his dark eyes made her sad. How could she tell him she had no interest in him whatsoever, other than as the good friend he was? She didn't want to hurt his feelings by turning him down outright. "Thanks, Blake. Be careful, cause I may take you up on that. If my place is too small . . . " she shrugged.
"Fair enough. The invite is always open."

"Thank you." She smiled, taking his hand in gratitude, squeezing it before letting it go. The man cleared his throat once again, getting to his feet.
"I'd better get back." Dale accepted the hug he offered, then he grabbed his jacket. "Take care. I'll be back tomorrow."
"Okay. Thanks for coming."
"Anytime." He looked down at her for a long moment, seeming to be memorizing her features before turning away and disappearing out into the hall.
Dale sighed, boredom setting in again quickly. It was nice to have a disruption to her day, even if it was only ten minutes worth. She'd been moved into a private room a week ago, which was nice in some ways, but more lonely. There wasn't the constant sound of nurses and doctors running around, responding to alarms. On the fifth floor, the nurses came in like clockwork, but that was it. Dale was starting to feel itchy, like she was ready to burst from her own skin. She needed mental stimulation. Blake had brought her some paperwork to do, but even that wasn't enough. She wanted to be in her lab!
&&&
The Kansas skies were alive tonight, the clouds pregnant with impending rain, the drums of nature pounding to the dance of lightning. She sat atop a rock overhand, legs pulled up to her chest, arms clasped over her shins. With her head thrown back, she smiled at the force of nature overhead, waiting for just the right moment.
She had left Chicago earlier in the day, the pulse of Kansas' storms racing through her blood, a charge that sizzled through her body. She was not disappointed, awed again and again by the brilliance of the storm. Soon her chance would come, and, like a surfer, she would find her perfect wave, her perfect time. She was patient.
&&&
"You can put that over there, thanks." Dale wheeled herself over to the living room, trying to get out of the way of the cabbie who had offered to help. She knew Blake would be angry with her for not calling him, but she wanted to get home on her own, tired of depending on everyone for everything, including taking a damn dump!
"Okay, lady, you're set."
"Thank you." She paid the grateful man handsomely, then cursed as she banged into the hallway wall as she wheeled her way toward the front door, intent on locking it behind him. It took her a few minutes to un - wedge herself, trying to not cry at the pain that shot through her hips at the jarring of the crash, though she couldn't say if the tears would be more from the pain or the frustration of her predicament. She wondered if maybe she should have taken Blake up on his offer after all. "No," she whispered, running a hand

through her hair, which had started to grow back. She hadn't had her hair this short since she'd been a teenager.
Dale couldn't help it as the tears began to trail down over her cheeks, part anger, part pain, and part plain old fashioned feeling sorry for herself. Her life was fine, it was good, even. She had a job she loved, a nice apartment, and had even managed to make a friend in Blake. Then one minute, blink of an eye, gone.
Wiping a hand over her eyes and nose, Dale decided it would do her no good to sit and stew. She had a life to get back together, and had to do it quick. She intended to be back at work Monday morning. That gave her three days to get used to her chair.
Gathering her resolve, Dale turned her chair around, taking several deep breaths as she prepared to face her day in her new, front row seat. She stopped short when she heard a soft knock on the front door. Groaning deep in her throat, preferring to be left alone, the blonde made her way back down the hall. Figuring it was Blake, she mentally prepared herself to send him away, but was surprised to see no one there, though on the ground, leaning against the doorframe, was a single white rose with a small card taped to the stem.
Dale frowned, wondering who could have left it, especially since she saw no one at either end of the hall, trying to escape detection. Picking up the gift, she saw her name written on the outside of the envelope. Her curiosity got the best of her as she slid a finger under the flap, ripping it open.
DALE - HERE'S TO TURNING THOSE TEARS INTO A HAPPY SMILE.
Now truly baffled, Dale's brows drew, re - reading the simple message written in bold, block letters - a steady hand. She brought the rose to her face, closing her eyes as she inhaled the fragrance. It smelled wonderful.
Figuring it must be a well - wishing neighbor, who had been able to quickly escape back into their apartment, Dale decided to take the rose and card at face value, closing and locking the door as she got her wheelchair turned back around, narrowly missing the wall with the edge of her chair's tire. As she made her way into the kitchen, she was surprised to see the clock on her coffee pot blinking. She noticed the clock on the microwave and stove were also blinking. Odd, but they had been having lots of storms lately. But what was most odd was when she looked at the time, the clocks were only ten minutes behind, compared to her wristwatch. But then again, it could mean 2:32 a.m. and not p.m.
It didn't matter, she decided, as she made her way deeper into the apartment. What she craved right now was peace and quiet, surrounded by everything that was familiar to her - no hospital food, smells or personnel waking her up at ungodly hours of the night to check her vitals. Maybe tonight she'd actually have a full nights rest.

Dale knew there were few who would be calling her, so she'd assured Blake and her boss that she was fine, was at home, but wanted to be left alone on her voicemail, asking them to not come over. She refused to answer the phone, instead wanting to fall into the solitude she craved, and had not been able to enjoy for more than a month.
&&&
Dale woke up to a terrible neck kink and her back screaming at her. Not to mention her entire lower half. She groaned as reality slowly beckoned. Blinking several times, she saw the sun shining through her living room windows, the TV quietly hissing snow at her.
Confused, she pushed herself up in her wheelchair, trying to figure out why she still sat in it, and why she was waking up in her living room. It all came back to her with startling clarity and returning frustration. The night before, almost falling ass over appetite when trying to transfer herself to her bed, the blonde had decided to take a deep breath, and step back from the situation, as it were. So, she'd wheeled herself into the living room and had slid a DVD into the player. She figured she must have fallen asleep, as Dale ran a hand through her hair, which made it stand up at crazy angles.
Deciding that coffee was a must, Dale released the chair's break and wheeled herself in the direction of the kitchen. Carefully eyeing the counter the coffee pot sat on, she chewed on her bottom lip, trying to decide how well she could reach it. Wheeling up to it, she was relieved to find that, though a slightly uncomfortable reach, it was definitely doable. Water poured from the carafe into the reservoir on the machine, she was all set. Except for the coffee itself.
Looking up at what seemed endless cabinet space, and made for a giant, Dale tried to visualize where exactly her can of Folgers was.
"Shit." It was in the cabinet above the microwave, second shelf, behind the sugar. "Shit, damnit, fuck!"
Grimacing as she rested her hands against the arms of her chair, Dale pushed herself up as high as she could, lowering one leg, testing the slightest bit of weight on it, wincing, but pushing on.
"Okay," she breathed, blowing out a long breath. "I can do this." She put her other foot down, testing a little more weight, then cried out, flopping back into her chair, which jarred her body even more. Sobs of frustration tore through her, pouring out in an all out tantrum.

Blake, hand poised to knock, froze, leaning in toward the door until his ear was almost pressed against the cool surface. Sure enough, he heard a loud crash. Worry filled him as he imaged a horrid scene inside.
"Dale!" He pounded on the door, waiting to see if there was any response. He was relived when he heard another crash. That meant that the blonde wasn't dead. "Dale? Open the door."
Dale stopped her fit, canister of tea bags in hand, ready to be chucked against the same wall her coffee carafe had met its end on. She looked toward the front door, tears still sliding down her cheeks. "Shit, Blake." She got herself turned around, banging into the cabinets as she hurried out of the kitchen. She felt her anger spark further into flames when the front doorknob rattled.
Blake stepped back from the door, surprised when it suddenly opened, and he was met with a less - than thrilled little blonde scientist.
"Do you have any idea what time it is, Blake? Do you have any idea how many of my neighbors you probably just pissed off by banging on my door?!"
"Uh," Blake's mouth fell open then closed, words escaping him. Finally he got his voice back as he followed the irate little blonde back into the apartment. "I was worried about you, okay? I heard a loud crash . . . " the words died on his lips when he saw the shattered remains of some sort of glass and ceramic object, strewn about the kitchen floor. "What happened?"
"I couldn't reach my coffee, that's what happened." Dale rolled to the center of her living room, crossing her arms over her chest. She knew she was acting like a petulant child, but she hated the fact that the self - reliance she'd always worked so hard to attain had been stripped from her. Growing up with an abusive father who needed to control her every move, had pushed her to break away from his every move, every hate - filled word and look. Now she felt like she had been transported back to that time of helplessness, and she was goddamned pissed about it!
"So you tore up your kitchen?" Blake had to take a step back or risk losing a shin as Dale whirled her chair around to face him.
"I don't want visitors, Blake. I thought I made that abundantly clear on my voicemail."
"Yeah, you did, but damnit, Dale, I was worried, okay? You just take off from the hospital, don't tell a soul, trying to get used to your life after you almost died, and just expect everyone to say, oop! Dale doesn't want company right now. Think I'll let her attempt to live a life in a wheelchair when her life isn't exactly ready for one!"
"Yes. That's exactly right."

Blake looked into those fiery green eyes, and for a moment, completely lost himself in them. He saw so much in that one look - determination, fear, pride and deep embarrassment. He knew nothing of Dale's past, where she came from, or how a woman so young, only twenty - five, had managed to accomplish what she had. All he knew was that he respected her above all others, and had lost his heart to her somewhere over the past three years. Taking a deep breath, he decided to change the subject and clear his own head.
"Coffee, you said?" When Dale didn't answer, Blake ran a and through his dark hair. "I'll make you some."
"I broke my damn carafe," the blonde muttered, turning her chair back to the window, staring out over the new day. Blake was glad she'd turned away, as he knew he'd lose more than a shin if Dale saw him smiling at her predicament.
"Okay. I'll run down to the corner and get you some. Okay?"
Dale could only nod. She didn't want to be a bitch to Blake, as she knew he was only trying to be a friend. "Large."
"You've got it."
Dale sighed heavily as the front door closed. All she wanted was a nice, hot bath, candles lit all around the bathtub, and an issue or two of Scientific American. Looking down at herself, she realized she was in the same scrubs the hospital had given her, as her original clothing had been ruined in the accident. She hadn't brushed her teeth or her hair. Hadn't touched a stick of deodorant. And, to top it all off, she had to pee like a race horse!
"Can this get any worse?"
&&&
It was getting late, and she really ought to be heading out. After all, the lure of a thunderstorm bundle in Colorado called. Even so, she stayed, perched outside, watching. The blonde had returned home, had been with the guy she'd seen at the hospital before, and right now they were settled on the couch, and apparently talking.
She moved to the other window, mindful of the ledge. Gloved hands grabbed onto the moulding around the windows, peering around the curtains on the insides of the tall windows.
&&&
Blake was trying to find some sort of topic, any topic that would keep him in Dale's apartment. He was cursing himself, having already played his ace by catching her up on everything work - related. He had lowered himself to talking about his pet Beta, Fosco.

"Blake," Dale rubbed the bridge of her nose with her fingers, doing her damndest to be nice. "Listen, I'm grateful for your help today, the coffee, making me lunch and all that, but I'm really tired. I'd like to go to bed."
"Oh!" Blake hopped to his feet. "I'll help you."
"No! Thank you." The blonde tried to hide her growing irritation behind a smile. "I really just want to be alone now, okay? I'm feeling better, feel strong now, so, you can just head on home. Okay?"
Blake felt his hopes shatter, but knew there was nothing he could do except nod and grab his keys. "Alright. Listen, if you need anything, anything at all - "
"I'll know who to call." Dale smiled sweetly.
Blake sighed, about to turn around when something caught the corner of his eye. Looking at the window, he started. "Jesus!"
"What?" Dale tried to follow him over to the window, but was having a hard time getting in her chair fast enough.
Blake stood pressed to the window, hands on either side as he stared out into the night. He saw nothing. "I think I just had a John Lithgow, Twilight Zone moment," he muttered. He turned back to Dale, who was trying to get into her wheelchair. He hurried over to her, easily lifting her from the couch cushions and settling her on the padded seat.
"Thanks. What's wrong?"
Blake shook his head, not wanting to freak out the blonde. "Nothing. I think I just saw a bird take off and it startled me."
"Oh. Okay." Dale was a little surprised, considering Blake was pasty pale. She rolled after him as he made his way to the front door. Wishing him goodnight, the blonde was shocked all over again when her co - worker bent down and placed a lingering kiss on her lips. He scurried out the door before she could respond. "Lovely."
&&&
She closed her eyes, body pressed against the cold brick of Dale's building. She couldn't believe that guy had spotted her! But, he had, and it had frightened him badly, though why wouldn't it - seeing a woman peering inside a tenth floor window.
Chancing another peek inside, she was glad to see that he was leaving, though felt her blood boil when he stole a kiss. Blue eyes studied the blonde, who didn't look thrilled at the kiss. She got herself turned around at the entryway of her apartment, and looking as though she were muttering to herself, headed out of sight, disappearing down a hallway.

Dale decided that a bath was a must, no matter what she had to do to accomplish the task, even if it meant crawling to the damn tub after she tumbled to the damn floor from her damn chair. Wheeling into the bathroom, she reached up to the light switch, growling deep in her throat as nothing happened. She flicked the switch back and forth, crying out in surprise when a small spark was sent from the fixture above the sink. Breathing heavily, she tried the switch again, and to her relief, buttery light flooded the large space. Taking a deep breath, began her bath water. Her mouth almost watered at the sight.
&&&
She moved around the side of the building, mindful of other watchful eyes, as she tried to find another window to see what Dale was up to. She stopped at what looked to be a bedroom window, though the room was dark. Through the open slats of mini blinds she could see the open door led to what looked to be a short hallway, a triangle of light painting the hall floor.
Closing her eyes, she allowed the electric waves all around her to buzz to a fever pitch, melding with sound waves until she was able to zone in on what was happening inside the blonde's apartment.
&&&
Dale felt like a piece of leftover chicken as she wrapped her lower half in plastic, so it wouldn't get wet. She knew she probably shouldn't be taking a bath, but she didn't care. After the last two days she'd had, a sponge bath wasn't going to come even close to doing it for her.
She slowly sank into the depths of the hot water, only filling the tub a third of the way to lessen her chances of getting her casts wet. She washed her hair with one hand, using the other to help hold her body up. It was tedious, and somewhat painful, but necessary. She had to admit it was much easier with shorter hair. After she finished washing her body, Dale decided that it was time to attempt getting into bed. Part of her wondered if maybe she should have allowed Blake to help her, but then again, that damn kiss said a lot, and she wasn't willing to answer. Besides, she'd endured as much embarrassment as she could in one day. Earlier he'd helped her to the bathroom, thankfully leaving her in peace to pull down her own pants and pee.
Exhausted and weak, she gauged the distance from the tub to the chair, then mentally tallied the distance to her bed. "I can do this." Taking a deep, cleansing breath, the blonde placed her hand on the side of the tub, heart stopping as her hand slipped. She dried the side and her hand, then tried again. Her hand stayed put, so that gave her the confidence to push off, lifting her body free from the water, and feeling like a gymnast all at the same time. "Going for the gold," she panted, easing her broken body to the side of the tub, glancing several times over at the chair, making sure it hadn't moved in the three seconds since she looked at it last. Confident she was actually going to do this, Dale

heaved herself that last bit of distance, crying out as the chair rolled backwards when she tried to sit.
Her entire body was filled with a wave of pain as she hit the bathroom floor, the tile cold against her naked skin. She couldn't move, pain and frustration nailing her to the spot. She stared up at the ceiling through her haze of tears, feeling like she'd was moving in and out of consciousness. She felt hands on her, felt herself lifted. Her dream savior remained faceless in the shadows of night. Soft words and even softer bedding met her, Dale easing into the comfort. She could vaguely remember the series of questions she was asked - was she hurt? Could she move? Did she need a doctor?
"Doctor?" she whispered, finally looking up into blue eyes. "You are the doctor, remember?" She grinned, silly and exhausted. "You came back." With those words, she drifted off into a deep, desperately needed sleep.
&&&
Green eyes slowly fluttered open, the harsh light of late morning kept at bay by the pulled blinds, tendrils of light attempting to escape from around the edges. Memories of last night's botched attempt at a bath came back to her, and Dale took mental stock of her body, as well as her surroundings. She was sore, but nothing felt out of place or missing, and she was lying in her bed, surrounded by a dozen pillows.
"How the hell did I get here?" she muttered, almost startled right out of her skin when her question got an answer.
"I put you there."

Dale tried to move away from the intruder's voice, but soft hands were on her shoulders in record time. Dale was stopped by . . . a hum? . . . in the touch. Dale stilled, frozen with fear. She looked into the face and was stunned to see the blue eyes of the dream image that had followed her throughout her entire ordeal. The face that loomed over her was beautiful, the sky blue eyes only the tip of the iceberg.
"Careful, Dale. You'll hurt yourself," the strange woman said softly. She saw the fear in the blonde's eyes, though it was being quickly mixed with curiosity, and stopped back from the bed.
"Who are you? Why are you in my house?"
"You needed help," the woman said softly, retaking her seat by the window.
Dale looked down at herself, suddenly self - conscious. She remembered that she had been naked while lying on the bathroom floor. She was now dressed in a soft, terry cloth robe. She absently pulled the ends together, unnecessarily covering herself better. The

bedding hid her entire body. Even so, she slid further down, enveloped in a soft cloud of material.
As she observed the woman, who's own gaze hadn't faltered, she realized the woman was dressed in a bizarre sort of . . . body suit. Her eyes traveled over the strange outfit, noting that it looked like pieces of leather or something, were quilted together, covering her from just under her chin, full sleeves, then down to her feet, which were covered in some sort of rubber - soled shoe. Her long, dark hair flowed freely around her shoulders.
"Are you crazy?" she finally asked, meeting the woman's amused gaze. The woman shook her head.
"No. Just someone who's concerned."
Dale studied her for a moment, unsure what to think. Should she be afraid? Should she be grateful? It was obvious the woman meant her no harm. A blonde head cocked slightly to the side.
"Who are you?"
"My name is Sutton. I'm not here to hurt you, Dale. Odd I may be, but I won't harm you."
"How do you know my name? Why were you at the hospital? How did you get into my house?" Dale's voice rose with every question, her fear beginning to peak as the situation began to fully unfold. Blindly she reached to her bedside table, snatching the phone from its cradle. She gasped as a flash of light blinded her for a moment, the air in the room sucked out like a vacuum, leaving the blonde gasping.
She twisted around as much as her body would allow, trying to figure out where her uninvited guest went. Sutton was nowhere to be seen, the only evidence she'd ever been there was the frayed ends of the screen on her bedroom window, still smoldering.
&&&
"Wow. That is awfully strange." Peter Ramsey jotted a few notes in his notebook then turned to the frightened blonde. "You said you'd never seen her before? Before she showed up at the hospital, anyway."
"Right. I have no clue who she is." Dale hugged herself tighter as she remembered the creepy events of the morning.
"Okay. Well, we'll look for her, but to be honest, without a last name, no fingerprints, anything, I doubt anything can be done, Dale."
The blonde nodded. "I understand."

"Though with the description you gave, it may not be all that hard. I'll check with some of the local hospitals, maybe even the psych ward where you were at. They may know something."
"Okay." Dale allowed herself to be pushed out of the bedroom, the officer, and husband of a co - worker, leaving her in the middle of the living room.
"If you need anything at all, Dale, please don't hesitate to ask. I know Sandy has been worried sick about you."
"Thanks, Pete. I appreciate that. Tell her I'll be back to torment her Monday."
The officer chuckled. "Will do."
Left alone again, Dale sighed, looking around her apartment. For some reason she couldn't shake, she felt guilty for calling the police in, almost like something inside was telling her that Sutton wouldn't hurt her, and that there was far more with her than met the eye. But then she remembered the torched edges of her window screen, and the light that had filled her bedroom just before the strange woman disappeared. Dale shivered.
&&&
Winter was upon Chicago with a quick and brutal hand. Gone were the days of mild weather and refreshing summer rains. Gone were clear skies and light jackets. Snow fell in record depth and temperatures fell just as drastically. Though free from the confines of her wheelchair, Dale felt like a sixty year old woman as the cold cut bitterly into here legs and hips, aggravating the pins that held her frame together after so much bone mass had been crushed.
Dale had moved on with her life, thrilled to be back at work, and trying valiantly to hold off Blake's subtle, and sometimes not - so - subtle, interest. The kiss had never been discussed, as the blonde felt no reason to bring it up. In truth, she didn't want to deal with it, and as long as he didn't make it an issue, it wouldn't be.
As time passed, Dale thought less and less about the strange encounter with the stranger woman from the previous summer. She hadn't seen her since, and the police had found nothing, no trace, no record of her, just as Peter had predicted. Dale had boiled it all down to a strange summer all the way around, not giving it anymore credit than that, and genuinely grateful it was over.
She had no idea that on the other side of the world, a woman sit atop the Sydney Opera House, basking in the wondrous show of nature that was a summer thunderstorm, her thoughts never far away from the blonde. Sutton had quietly checked in on Dale a few more times before necessity bade her follow the storms that the mid - west was quickly shedding. Now, atop the international landmark, she raised to her full height, her blood beginning to surge as the crackle of electricity wound its way through her body, energy

pumping through her frantic rates, readying her body's mutated chemistry until her arms spread, face lifted to the heavens as that split moment of pleasure/pain ripped through her, the deafening crash of a lightning strike leaving her deaf and dumb as her body was filled with the pulsing electricity that was behind her every move, tinged her aura with crackles of blue, and preceded her every step.
Sutton took a deep breath, her lungs ending their electrical seize, allowing air back in for the first time since the strike. She let out a long, shaky breath, eyes closing as the last remnants of the strike faded. She imagined, from what she'd heard, it was much like an orgasm.
Body still pulsing, Sutton raised her hands again, calling out to the waves of light, sound and electricity all around her, invisible to the average soul, yet a never - ending highway to her. A clash of lightning, she was gone.
Sutton walked the streets, no desire to attract attention, so she wrapped herself in stolen clothing, only the slight added bulk of her undersuit announcing anything different about her. She did her best to reign in the power humming through her blood, her body's natural abundance of electricity, coupled with that she'd gathered atop the opera house, made it near impossible for her to not short out every light she came upon. A few cracked bulbs was the least bit of damage she could do, and was glad of it; she had no desire to face down some thug or idiot. She lived a solo life, and was in an incredibly anti - social mood this night.
Her mood reminded her of her younger days, days and nights when she strolled the streets near her childhood home of Colorado Springs, Colorado. She'd walk up and down Academy Boulevard, one of the busiest streets in the small metropolis, hoping some wayward car would hit her, snapping her legs out from under her and send her to join her mother and father.
Now, strolling the busy streets of Sydney, Australia, Sutton allowed herself to think about her mother, whom hadn't crept into her thoughts in more than a year. It was just too painful. The recluse closed her eyes for a moment, just barely stepping out of the way of an oncoming couple as she opened her eyes once more. Though as the streets came back into focus, she also could see the one image of her mother she'd ever been given, a picture that had long since been lost. Her long, brown hair, so much lighter than that her daughter would have. Her eyes had been amber, Sutton's father calling them the color of champagne.
Crystal Marie Callahan, wife of Stuart Callahan. They had been married for four months when the news of their first child had reached their ears. The couple had been ecstatic, as Crystal had wanted a child since she, herself had been a child. And the day she'd found out her first child was a girl, Stuart had held his wife, her tears of happiness unstoppable.

Sutton was told by her father that Crystal would talk to her unborn child constantly, telling her how much she was loved, and how Crystal couldn't wait for the day she'd be able to meet her little girl.
Sutton grabbed onto the metal side of a fire escape, looking around her once. No eyes were on her, so she filled her chest with the rumbling energy inside her, closing her eyes and willing the energy around her to scoop her up and take her along until she was atop a nearby rooftop, looking down over the city. Separating herself from everyone else was second nature for the brunette. She wasn't like them, and they could never understand her. They feared her, well, those that were unlucky enough to see her oddity at work. Such as Dale. Those who had over the years had scorned her, laughed at her, or worse - tried to capture her. She had learned that hot summer day back when an eight year old Sutton had stood over her father's dead body, that she must hide her gift - her curse. No one must know. It would also be for the safety of the public at large to stay away. Yes, over the many years she'd learned to control her oddity, ensuring that nothing like what happened twenty - two years ago would ever happen again. Never again would someone lose their life because of Sutton. She couldn't allow it.
She pushed the returning thoughts of Dale out of her mind. She'd find another storm to chase, leaving Chicago behind her.
&&&
Summer had come, and it was hot. As Dale drove in her six month old Accura, she glanced up at the ominous clouds, a low rumbling threatening to loose nature's fury. She loved rain, and looked forward to the coming storm. The guy on the Weather Channel said that it would be a record year for rain and summer storms. Bring it on, Dale said.
The blonde scientist was trying to allow herself to enjoy the ride home from work. She had only driven a handful of times since the accident last summer. Hell, she'd only been out of the wheelchair and all medical attachments for a little over seven months. She hadn't been keen to get behind the wheel of another car, nor buy a new car, on the corvette driver's insurance, that is. Blake had talked her into it, convincing her that if she didn't try again, she'd be afraid for the rest of her life. He had used Dale's own competitive spirit against her, and it had worked. So, yes, she was driving again, but no, she didn't like it. Chicago's Friday night rush hour certainly wasn't helping matters any. As far as she was concerned, she couldn't just taken public transportation for the rest of her life, and been quite happy with that.
As she neared her neighborhood, the clouds ripped open with a violent crash of thunder, and suddenly the day was awash in driving rain. Dale flicked her windshield wipers to high, entertaining the idea of pulling off the side of the road until the deluge passed, or at least slowed. She was passing the park she could never remember the name of, the huge, ludicrous statue standing at attention in the center. She had to remember to ask Blake who the hell the statue was of.

Dale was about to move into the left lane for her turn when a blinding flash of lightning centered over the statue. The crash of thunder that accompanied it made the blonde yell out. Just as she was about to turn away, she was horrified to see a figure standing on the statue, body rigid as the lightning strike ripped through them.
"Oh my god!" Dale was already feeling around for her cell phone as she crossed three lanes of traffic to pull off into the park's parking lot. Her car screeched to a halt as she searched desperately on the ground around the statue for the body of the person who had just been struck by lightning.
"911, what's your emergency?" a woman's voice said on the other end of the line. Dale put the phone closer to her ear as she stepped out into the rain.
"I just saw someone get hit by lightning," she gasped, hurrying under the archway that led into the park.
"Wha . . . s . . . location, ma'am?" the voice said, her question a staccato of static. Dale shouted the address of the park into the tiny phone, the sound of the storm like a freight train. "I . . . nt . . . you . . . "
Dale cried out, static erupting from the phone, her ear buzzing. She pulled the phone away from her head, tucking it away into the pocket of her pants. She froze, looking up into the sky, every hair standing on end as an electric current raced through the air, her skin tightening painfully. She felt her toes curl and ears ring as something boomed directly overhead. She couldn't even hear her own screams as the sound reverberated through her skull. A jagged spear of light reflected in wide, green eyes. The next thing Dale knew, she was flat on her back, the cold, wet grass beneath her, a heavy weight on top of her.
"Hold on!" someone yelled in her ear, loud enough to be heard over the storm.
Dale's fingers gripped onto something slick, wet leather or something. The light overhead became blinding, the world around them exploding with the acidic smell of fire and smoke mixed with the earthy smell of rain and wet soil and foliage. The blonde wasn't sure her eyes were even open as she could see nothing but the specter of the blinding light remained. She began to feel fear and panic grip her insides when she tried to move, but her body refused. She thrashed her legs and arms, only to find that her hands were suddenly pinned to the ground. Blinking several times, her vision began to clear, two blue eyes coming into focus.
"Shh, Dale. Calm down. Take deep breaths. I've gotcha." The blonde calmed immediately, the familiar voice like a balm. She cried out in surprise as she felt herself being lifted into the air. Warm air hit her ear, then softer words. "Hold on."
The scientist clung to the blue - eyed stranger, gasping as her body was filled with a radiant, almost painful . . . light. Dale squeezed her eyes shut, her face closing in on itself

as she felt a ripple of electricity flow through her, as though each and every one of her cells were imploding, sucking her into a vortex made up of her very being. Then everything went black.
&&&
Sutton watched the new day dawn, marveling at the colors that spread over the city. The storm had been violent, tearing limbs and leaves from the many trees, puddles and mud dotting the streets.
She sighed heavily, grateful for not the first time, that she had broken her promise and returned to the Windy City. She had felt it in the air, the brewing of a record year for storms in and around Chicago. She had managed to stay away from Dale, not even going near her home or work. Not until last night, when she knew the best place to go for the quickest, most potent charge, would be the park, rather the statue in the park.
Sutton turned when she heard Dale's soft groan from the bed behind her. The brunette was glad she'd managed to wake before her. She walked over to the chair she'd been occupying all night, slowly lowering herself into the seat.
"Why do I feel like I ran a marathon?" Dale groaned, stretching her arms then legs. A tiny squeak escaped her lips, making her guest smile. "Better yet, why do I feel like a marathon was run on top of me?"
"It'll pass. Your body's been through a lot," Sutton said, her voice soft. She met the unfocused green gaze aimed her way.
"What happened?" Dale rubbed her eyes and face, trying to clear her vision, which was still blurry, no image clear. She could see the dark figure sitting in the chair near the window. She blinked rapidly, trying desperately to focus. "My eyes," she breathed, closing them and rubbing. She stopped at the touch she felt on her arm, one of her hands pulled away from her face.
"Don't do that, Dale. It'll just take a little time." Sutton sat on the edge of the bed, reaching to the bedside table where she'd placed a glass of water earlier. "Here. Drink this. You need the fluids."
The blonde gladly took the glass, drinking the glass dry in moments. "More."
Without a word, Sutton took the glass, hurrying to the kitchen to refill it then hurrying back. As she walked into the blonde's bedroom again, she slowed, watching as Dale pushed herself up to lean against the headboard of her bed.
"Here."

Dale looked up at the brunette as she walked over to her, taking the glass of water from her extended hand. The blonde looked at that hand, strong fingers, the skin looked dry, cracked in places. Her gaze traveling up her arm, barely able to make out the quilted pieces of the sleeve. Rubber. Pieces of rubber
"Thank you," she whispered, bringing the glass to her lips.
"How are you feeling?" Sutton asked, not sure what to do with her hands now that she was no longer holding the glass.
"Tired. Sore. My stomach is queasy, too."
Sutton nodded, clasping her fidgeting hands behind her back. "That's pretty typical with a strike."
It took a moment for Sutton's words to register. She took in a sharp breath when it did. "A strike?"
The brunette nodded sagely. "Yes, Dale. I tried to absorb as much of it as I could, but," blue eyes fell. "I'm sorry. I couldn't absorb it all."
The blonde pushed herself away from the nest of pillows between her and the headboard. "I don't understand. What do you mean, you tried to absorb as much as you could? You'd be dead, Sutton. That makes no sense." She grew quiet as she saw the strange brunette's eyes raise to meet her gaze - steady and filled with pain.
"You won't understand - "
"Than make me, damn it! Explain to me how you do whatever the hell it is that you do. Cause I have to be honest with you - you scare the hell out of me!"
Sutton sighed, running a hand through her hair. She glanced over her shoulder at the new day behind her, streaming through the windows. "I don't want to scare you, Dale. It's the last thing I want." She sighed again, her mind waging war with her heart and responsible logic. Finally she made a decision. "Okay. I'll tell you."
Dale sat back against the pillows, waiting patiently for the dark woman to begin her tale. She couldn't even begin to imagine what she'd say.
Still facing the window, Sutton began. "There was a woman, Crystal Marie Callahan, wife of Stuart Callahan. Crystal was nine months pregnant with her first child, and one night she got caught in a huge storm. Tragic storm, really. She was struck by lightning," Sutton snapped her fingers, "just like that, she was gone. But, her child, a daughter, survived. But she was forever changed."
"Changed how?"

Sutton turned away from the window, finally facing the blonde. "Ways that you can never understand. Ways that are strange sets her far apart from everyone else."
"That daughter was you, wasn't it?" Dale asked, her voice soft, yet careful. She saw Sutton's nod. "What ways, Sutton?"
"My body doesn't work the way yours does, Dale." She resumed her seat in the chair.
"How so? Because of the lightning strike?"
"Yes. I don't know. I guess you can say my body is almost like a battery. Everyone produces their own electricity, but in small currents. During the strike, I don't know. Something happened, some sort of chemical reaction, and my body produces a tremendous amount. I'd wager around forty - five percent more than yours. My body sustains itself coupled with the current. I have to, well, I have to recharge, if you will."
"And what happens if you don't . . . recharge?" Dale asked slowly, her scientific mind trying to wrap itself around the craziness she was being told. She looked deeply into the beautiful, yet very sad, blue eyes of the woman sitting in her bedroom, and saw no signs of deceit, nor lunacy.
Sutton shrugged at the question. "Things start to slow down."
"Things? Things such as your energy levels?" Sutton nodded once. "Your muscle action?" Nod. "Your heart rate?"
"Yes."
"Wow. Sutton, none of this makes any sense. I just can't, I don't know. I'm finding it very hard to swallow."
"I know that, Dale. It's crazy. That's why no one else has ever heard that story before." Sutton was preparing herself for a very quick departure, just like the last time she was in the blonde's bedroom. She gripped the arms of the chair with almost iron - like fingers, the muscles in her legs flexing and un - flexing in anticipation. She watched as Dale pushed the covers back, wincing slightly as she got to her feet. Once steady, the blonde walked over to her, looking down at her.
"And what about this? You were wearing this last time I saw you, too." Dale gently tapped one of Sutton's shoulders, the rubber - like material of her bodysuit smooth and cool. Sutton looked down at herself and shrugged.
"It's made from rubber, pieces that I've gathered over the years, or that I mend it with. It helps protect my skin from further damage," the brunette softly explained.

"More damage?" Dale couldn't help but take a step back as the strange woman stood. She didn't want to be afraid of her, and felt in fact, that her fear was misplaced, but she felt it all the same. Her curiosity took over as she watched Sutton take hold of the head of an unseen zipper that ran down her left side. Peeling back to rubber, Sutton turned so that her back was facing Dale. "Oh, god." The blonde brought a hand to her mouth, stepping up to the taller woman, fingers itching to reach out and touch. At the center of the brunette's back, between her shoulder blades, were two scorch marks, the skin so badly burned that the marks were raised. "They look like wings."
Sutton smiled, nodding. "Yes. When I was a baby, they very much did, and were the right size for them. My doctor used to call me Angel Baby. They didn't grow with me, but they didn't go away, either. Now they're mini angel wings."
Dale felt a strange unease as she reached out a tentative hand. "Does it hurt?"
"No. Not anymore."
"It used to?"
Sutton nodded, glancing over her shoulder. "Yes. You can touch it, Dale. I won't break."
The blonde concentrated on the scorched tissue before her; it was strange, almost as though the black and gray had been airbrushed onto raised skin. The feel of it was much different than what she had expected. From the looks of the scaring, it looked like it would have been hard and course, like a scab. Instead it was soft and pliant, much like normal flesh. She couldn't help but look at her fingertips, expecting to see smudges on them.
Sutton closed her eyes, trying not to lean back into the blonde's touch. She hadn't been touched in so long. She couldn't remember the last time she'd given or received a hug.
"You've been through a lot, haven't' you, Sutton?" Dale whispered, her hand lying flat on the warmth of the brunette's back. The flesh was amazingly warm - far warmer than Dale's own.
"We all have our scars, our burdens. Mine are no different. Perhaps just a little more visible."
Dale smiled at that, admiring the taller woman's courage. :"I never got to apologize," she said at length.
"Apologize? For what?" Suddenly starting to feel far too vulnerable half dressed, Sutton pulled away from the blonde, shrugging back into the sleeves of her bodysuit and turning to face her.

"For last time we met, calling the police on you." Dale gave her a sheepish grin. "You have to admit, though, it was odd that you were suddenly in my house, regardless of if you helped me or not."
Sutton chuckled, studying her feet. "Yeah. Sorry about that. I had been keeping an eye on you since - " realizing what she'd said, she stopped herself, taking a deep breath.
"Since . . . ?"
Sutton met a demanding gaze. Not wanting to frighten the blonde anymore than she already had off and on during their acquaintanceship, she decided to answer. "Since your accident. I wanted to make sure you were okay."
Dale was baffled, but then she remembered that she had seen Sutton's face in the hospital. "That's right. I remember seeing you while I was in ICU. I thought you were a doctor. Or a figment of my imagination. Did you work at the hospital?"
Sutton shook her head. "No. I uh," she swallowed and began to fidget nervously. "I saw the accident happen. You were hurt badly."
"How badly?" Dale had the distinct feeling that the brunette knew more than she was leading on.
"Bad. Uh, dead, basically."
"And the EMT's brought me back to life?" the blonde asked, hands on hips, head slightly cocked to the side as she studied the suspicious behavior of the other woman.
"Not exactly."
"Then how? My doctor told me I should've been dead. Why wasn't I, Sutton?"
"Well, uh," Sutton started to fidget more when Dale took a step toward her. She couldn't meet her eyes.
"Tell me." The researcher stopped right in front of Sutton, looking up into her face, though blue eyes would not meet her gaze. She reached up, placing a hand on the side of the brunette's warm cheek. Though she knew she wasn't, Sutton almost felt feverish to the touch. "Tell me what happened."
Taking a deep breath, Sutton finally met her gaze. "I restarted your heart," she said simply, thinking it interesting that she couldn't meet the blonde's eyes moments ago, and now she couldn't seem to look away.

"You did?" Dale asked, her voice almost a whisper. She felt her chest expand with sudden emotion. She could see it in the depths of Sutton's eyes, her very soul, the woman was telling the truth. "Why did you do that?"
"Because I thought you were far too young to die."
"Oh, Sutton." Dale closed her eyes as she wrapped her arms around the taller woman's neck, bringing her in for a long, tight hug. "Thank you."
At first Sutton almost panicked, not sure what to do. But as the hug lasted, she pulled Dale in tightly, resting her arms around the blonde's lower back. "You're welcome." She reveled in the embrace, quietly inhaling Dale's scent, storing it in her memory banks for when she left to chase another storm.
Finally Dale pulled away, but kept her hands on the brunette's arms. "Where are you staying?"
"I find places." Sutton smiled, a bit of pride in her eyes.
"You have nowhere?" Dale was surprised, though it made sense. Since the taller woman moved around so much, where logically would she stay? "How long are you staying in Chicago?"
Sutton shrugged. "Until the storms pass."
"Well, until they do, I want you to stay with me."
"Oh, uh, Dale, I can't do that. Really, it's no necessary," Sutton protested.
"I know. But it wasn't necessary for you to save my life, check on me afterward to make sure I was okay, then hang around too save my life again," Dale said, ticking off each incident on her fingers. "Somehow I don't think necessary or unnecessary is relevant in this conversation. You're staying."
Sutton chuckled, nodding slightly. "Alright." She wasn't' sure how she felt about the invite, but didn't want the smile on Dale's face to go away.
"Great. Now that that's settled, I'm hungry."
)))
Sutton let the bodysuit fall to the floor with a loud flop. It sounded as though she'd just dropped a suit of rubber armor. In some ways she had, she supposed. The buttery light of the bathroom was bathing her skin in a golden hue. She studied her nudity, taking in the pale skin and lean lines. A few scars marked her body from mishaps as a child. It

seemed no matter how minor the injury, anything due to current left its mark on her skin and on her soul. She didn't want to think about that.
She felt strange accepting the kindness Dale was paying her. She'd never stuck around long enough to meet anyone she'd helped in the past, so it was definitely a different situation for the brunette. Though in all honesty, no one in the past had caught her attention the way the blonde did. She had no idea what it was. Yes, Dale had been far too young for what had befallen her that day last summer, but young people died every day. What was so different about Dale? What made her special? Sutton did not know, but she did know that the blonde was special. Something about her, about he fire and demeanor. The life in her eyes. The determination in every step she took, which still contained a slightly lingering limp from her injuries.
She turned the knobs, the water power high as the water charged from the faucet. Making sure the temperature was right, Sutton turned the knob that would get the shower going, and stepped around the open shower door. The initial jolt as she was immersed in the water roared through her, but was soon replaced by a pleasant hum.` The warmth felt good to her tired body. Her stomach was full for the first time in awhile, as she usually just grabbed what she could, when she could. She had learned how to conserve energy over the years, as well as the recharge, which gave her energy food never could.
Above all, though, Sutton was enjoying her time spent with Dale. The blonde was quiet and thoughtful, and Sutton felt the need to try and find out everything about her.
As she stepped out of the shower, she looked again at the pile of clothing Dale had given her to put on. It would be strange without the bodysuit, but in some ways, the brunette looked forward to the change. She pulled the t - shirt on, then the shorts. Dale assured her they were large on the small blonde, and as promised, fit Sutton fairly well. Looking in the mirror again, she was surprised to see a different person staring back at her. A normal person.
Dale was lounging on the couch, trying to figure out what the hell made her invite a total stranger into her home. Yes, Sutton had saved her life. Again. And yes, she was grateful, but all the same, the brunette was in fact a stranger, and a very bizarre human being. The blonde now believed her, but still . . . What was Sutton capable of? Could she do any damage with her "powers", for lack of a better term. Dale didn't even know what to call them, what to make the of the entire situation. All she knew was that, to her shock, Sutton didn't scare her anymore. In fact, if anything, she felt safe and comfortable around the beautiful brunette; She was curious about her, wanting to know about her past, about who she was s a person. Way there anywhere she considered home? Did she have any family, since her mother was dead, and her father, as well. Any grandparents somewhere that she was able to go to from time to time and call home? It was heartbreaking for Dale to think that maybe that wasn't the case, and that Sutton was truly alone in a world that would never understand her. What did she go through on a daily basis? What demons did she have to face as she traveled the world, chasing storms? What kind of life was that, and did she have anything at all to ground her?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the opening of the bathroom door. Sutton stepped out, dressed in the clothing Dale had given her to wear. She looked so different in regular clothing - even more beautiful, if that was possible.
"Have a nice shower?" the blonde asked, tucking her feet up under her .
"Yes. Thank you. I have to say, I feel a bit out of place in this," the brunette chuckled, fingering the hem of her shirt. Dale laughed.
"Well, you certainly look more in place." She watched as Sutton walked across he room, sitting in the arm chair, stick straight, as if she had no idea what to do with herself. Dale smiled in understanding. "So, uh, do you have to . . . recharge . . . today?"
Sutton shrugged. "I can , or I can go without. I charged last night, so . . . "
"Right. And then some, right?"
"Yes." Sutton chuckled. "and then some.
Dale was quiet, unsure of what to say or do. For some reason, she felt awkward. They hadn't done much talking since their discussion that morning, and all of Sutton's revelations. Dale couldn't help but stare at the beautiful woman sitting next to her. She had no idea what to say to her, never one for small talk, but she just couldn't wrap her mind around the woman, her situation, nor how beautiful she was. Sutton was perhaps the most beautiful woman the blonde had ever seen that wasn't dolled up on TV or a movie. Sutton, hair wet and slicked back from her face, not a stick of makeup on, and about as natural as she could get, was stunning. She seemed to glow with her own inner light. Maybe it had something to do with the loads of electricity washing through her body, but Dale didn't' think so.
"What?" the brunette asked, feeling green eyes on her. She met Dale's bemused gaze.
"Nothing." Clearing her throat, the blonde scooted up from she'd slouched on the couch. "So where did your suit come from?"
"I made it. Gathered pieces of various types of rubber over the years, slowly stitching it all together, and replacing the parts that become damaged when I need to. It's a never - ending process."
"I bet. Do you ever wear regular clothes?"
Sutton shook her head. "Not very often, no. I feel naked," she said sheepishly. Dale smiled, but then turned away, suddenly an image off the brunette just that popping into her head. She was shocked at the vision, and somewhat ashamed.

"Who was that man that was with you, in the apartment?" Sutton asked, realizing by the look of confusion on Dale's face that perhaps she shouldn't have asked that. Now Dale would know she'd been watched.
"What man?"
"Uh, the tall man with dark hair. I saw him last time I was here. The night you fell. I also saw him at the hospital."
"Blake?" Dale asked stupidly. From the other woman's shrug she continued. "I don't' know where he's at. We work together."
Sutton was confused. "You're not with him?"
Dale chuckled, shaking her head. "No."
"Oh."
"Why did you think that?" Dale was truly curious. She also wanted to know how many times Sutton had seen Blake for him to have made an impression on her.
"Uh," why indeed. Sutton panicked for a moment, trying to figure out what to say, and how to respond. She didn't know why, it was just a hunch. She decide to tell the blonde as much. "Just thought so. The way he looks at you, it looks like, well, like he loves you."
"God, I hope not.," Dale blew out. "He was interested in me last year, as he told me as much, but that was it. Nothing since then. I think he got the idea.."
Sutton was surprised by the relief she felt. A small smile graced her lips, and she visibly relaxed.
"What about you? I know you don't stay anywhere long, but anyone special? Some handsome guy who's life you saved?" dale grinned, almost holding her breath as she waited for a response.
"No," the brunette said softly, looking down at her hands. "I basically avoid people, so any time I come into contact with them, I don't' stick around long enough to find anything about them interesting."
"Except me?" the blonde surmised. She smiled at the shy grin she saw on Sutton's face before the brunette turned away. Her smile softened. "You're so shy, Sutton. You don't' have to be with me. I wont judge you, won't call the police on you again."

Sutton smiled, looking at her folded hands in her lap. "No, I don't think you will. I'm just not used to this, used to being in someone's house, around the presence of another person. It's very odd for me. Its been such a long time,"
"Why do you isolate yourself so badly, Sutton?" Dale asked softly, reaching out to brush a few long, fallen strands of hair out of the brunette's face. Sutton looked up at her for a moment before her gaze fell again.
"Because no one can understand, and I know how dangerous it is for me, if anyone found out. People don't deal too well with those that are different and unique. Especially this kind of unique. Doctors would have a field day with me."
Dale nodded at the truth of those words. Hell, her own co - workers would have a field day with Sutton. "I see. You have no one, do you?"
Sutton didn't answer, she didn't' need to. Dale could see it in her blue eyes. Instead she took a deep breath, running a hand through her still - damp hair.
"You know what amazes me about you is that you're so strong, so very capable, yet I see a lost soul in your eyes, Sutton. It breaks my heart."
Sutton was surprised by the words, and even more so by the soft, profoundly sad tone of Dale's voice. She looked over at the blonde, slowly shaking her head. "Don't be sad for me, Dale. It's just the way the cards fell. There's nothing I can do to change it, so I do what I have to to survive. And, besides," she shrugged, trying to put a brave smile on her face. "I got to meet you."
"Yes, you did. And I'm glad for it. You're someone special, I can tell."
"No more so than you or Blake."
Dale took Sutton's warm hand in her own, squeezing slightly. "Let's just agree to disagree and watch a movie, okay?"
The brunette laughed in relief, squeezing the hand around hers in return with a nod.
^^^
Blake felt his impatience grow as he waited. Raising his fist, he was about to knock again, when finally he heard the release of chains and locks on the other side The door opened, and Dale looked back at him.
"Hi," he grinned, bringing up his hand to present her with the bag of German chocolate coffee. He knew how much she enjoyed it.