LOST IN THE EMPIRE
PART 2

“Rachel,” she heard Terry say and looked up, feeling a bit like a student caught daydreaming. Terry’s brow was crinkled somewhat…amusement? Exasperation?

He waved a hand at her. “Go get Cort and bring him here…”

She heard him say the sentence, but the words were too slow to keep up with the speed in which she bolted from her chair and out of the room. The easiest path out of the building was already plotted out in her mind and she flew to accomplish it: down the fire-escape stairwell…one, two, three, four flights of stairs, trying not to stumble over her own shoes, over the steps, out the door…SLAM!...glaring at those who stared in shock at her…through the reception area, PUSH the damn glass doors…OPEN, DAMN IT!....click click click over the brick pavement, swish out into the lawn, towards the lake….

Cort was pacing around the bench. He stopped when he saw her bounding towards him, began to close the distance, arms opening to receive her.

He tried for several moments to get her to talk, but all Rachel wanted to do was sink into his embrace and forget there was an Emerald City, a mission, a job, a paycheck, a horrible, horrible creature who pulled all the strings. She wrapped her arms around his neck and silenced his queries with a kiss.

“Just hold me,” she said, pressing close to him.

So, he did.

^ * ^ * ^ * ^

He felt her heart beating against his chest, rapid like a little bird's. What had Sid said...done...to make it beat like that? Her head was still tucked under his chin and he was facing the building. He scowled at it. All he wanted to do was take her away from this place, back to the blue house in the pines, be alone with her. But, no, he had his own meeting to attend. Less and less was that something he found he wished to do. He just wanted to go...away. Even the blue house was really not far enough. It was, after all, ...their...house, not his. Again he was reminded that not less than everything was theirs.

But it was Rachel who was his real concern right here, right now. She was pressing into him as though she were trying to disappear into his inward parts. He'd never seen her quite like this before, and it disturbed him.

He wrapped his arms completely about her, sealing her against his body. Immediately that urgent ache of yearning for her took him and he closed his eyes, burying his face in her hair. "Rachel," he murmured into the waves of it, "Rachel, Rachel." Loving the sound of it. Loving that he had the right to say it.

Leading her then to the bench, he sat closely beside her, his left arm curved around her shoulders, his right hand gently lifting her face to his. No one was about and, right now, he didn't care if there were. He needed the touch of her, the taste of her so much that he had begun to vibrate with the depth of his need. His hand shook slightly on her cheek and she reached up, laying hers atop it.

"I know," she said, barely above a whisper. "I know."

Then she couldn't say more for his mouth was on hers and her breath was nearly gone with his seeking of her. He pulled back a little, taking her lower lip with him, then, letting go, opened his eyes. She saw the quick rise of tears in them.

"Cort!" she cried. "What is it?"

He turned his head to the side, closing his eyes again. "I can't lose...this," he whispered hoarsely. "Not this." Suddenly he pressed her to his chest. "Everything, Rachel, everything was...taken. They won't take you...will they?" He sucked in a short, sharp breath, then clamped his teeth together.

^ * ^ * ^ * ^

There was a pause after Rachel bolted from the room, broken when Bud gave a soft chuckle and glanced at Terry, the tension of the air dissipated.

“What’s on your plate, mate?” Terry mumbled, looking slightly worn.

Bud shrugged.

“Same as usual,” he said, and stood to saunter to the window where Rachel and Sid had stared down at the lake.

“What’s been going on with Rachel?” Terry asked, not wasting time. “Is what Sid said true?”

Bud glanced down to the bench where Cort waited.

“Smitten? No. Willing to give her life for the man so he would be safe? Yes.”

Terry watched him, still skeptical. “Isn’t that getting a bit hysterical? Doesn’t it seem like…infatuation? ”

Bud shook his head, remembering Rachel in the emergency room when Cort’s blood pressure flat-lined.

“I don’t know what she went through when she got there, but it must have been something, because she wasn’t worried about what would happen to her if Cort died…how Sid would…banish her. She was terrified of something worse.” Terry shook his head in disbelief, remembering the summary of events Bud had given him on the way to the conference room. “You should have seen her, Terry. Infatuation doesn’t cover it.”

“What about Cort? Perhaps he doesn’t realize what an affect a movie can have…”

Bud frowned at Terry with his own look of skepticism, and then motioned for Terry to come to the window as well.

“Look,” he told the Aussie, pointing down.

They both watched as Rachel dashed across the lawn of the grounds towards Cort, who was already striding out to meet her. The two stood still for several seconds, wrapped up in each other, before moving back to the bench, Cort quite obviously holding her protectively.

“Does that look like confusion to you? He’s had time to adjust…some…at least as far as he can in a limited situation. And you should see the look on his face whenever Rachel is around…I think he’s perfectly aware of some things, and movies have nothing to do with it. In fact,” Bud laughed in regret. “Our first attempt to explain what had happen was met with…shall we say…a healthy amount of disbelief?”

“How do you think he’ll take this new mission?”

“Don’t know. Make a bet with you, though: tell Cort he’s gonna be separated from Rachel and you’ll find yourself with a very stubborn, uncooperative gunslinger.”

Terry nodded, absorbing this.

“Well,” Bud chirruped with sudden false energy. He tapped the tops of the chairs as he bustled to the door. “My neck-saving business is done here. I’m off to go pull some other poor bastard’s ass out of the fire. Personally, I don’t envy you. Getting Cort and Rachel to pay attention to anything more than the color of their eyes is going to be a fun challenge,” he smirked.

“No doubt,” Terry agreed, returning to his papers. “Are we still on for the gun range tomorrow?”

“Oh, yes! And ask Cort if he wants to come along. I have a feeling we may be able to pry him away for longer than two seconds.”

^ * ^ * ^ * ^

Cort put his hand over his eyes, but she pulled it gently down, holding it atop hers, the fingers of her other hand tracing delicately around his knuckles. God, how she loved him!

He opened his eyes as she slid her arms around his neck. "Mr. Wells," she said, "you are stuck with me...very, very stuck."

His lips curved, still a bit tremulous. Loss was still too fresh, too large, to be dismissed easily. But he forced a brightness into his voice and managed to say, "I'd better be. God, I'd better be." He kissed her again... lingering... soft, a kiss filled with tenderness and quiet yearning.

She closed her eyes, leaning her forehead on his shoulder. "I want to stay right here on this bench with you...forever," she sighed. "But they're waiting for us."

"Sid?"

"No, thank goodness. He had, um, something to attend to. More than likely it will just be Bud and Terry, possibly only Terry."

He looked toward the building, relieved somewhat. "Guess I should go get it over with." He stood, taking her hand and crossed the lawn with all the eagerness of a man walking toward the gallows.

When they arrived at the door of the conference room, Terry was alone, sitting at the large table, his face buried tiredly in his hands. The sight of him like that made Cort feel somehow more at ease.

"We're here," Rachel announced, and Terry jerked his head up, giving his eyes a quick rub, then quickly stood. He walked toward them, extending his hand to Cort.

"Can't tell you how glad I am to see you looking so fit," he said, shaking Cort's hand firmly, warmly. "Heard you had a bit of a rough go there for a while."

"I did," Cort replied, "but Rachel got me through." He felt suddenly awkward, not knowing really what to do next.

Terry indicated two chairs and both Rachel and Cort sat. Terry noted how he reached out and pulled her hand into his lap. Bud had been right. Cort met his eyes with a direct gaze that said plainly, "I'm here. What is it you want?"

There was a pause as the two men looked at one another, then Terry shook his head and said, "Still not really used to seeing my own face looking back at me. And if it's strange for me, I can imagine what it must be like for you, Cort."

"It's...different," was all Cort said in reply, but he, too, was studying his counterpart intensively. His fingers tightened a bit around Rachel's.

"There are...more....are you aware of that?"

"More what?" Cort asked.

"More of....us. A good number more. A couple dozen." He let the thought of that sink in.

Cort licked his lips, squeezed Rachel's hand maybe a bit too tight for just a second. "All from...movies?" he breathed.

"Yes, Cort. From movies. Even Sid. He was made just like I was...same process...like you."

Cort blinked several times. He and Sid...made by the same process? How could that...be? His breaths came more shallowly, rapidly. "Am I...like...him?"

Terry smiled fondly. "No, Cort. Other than the creative process used, you are nothing like Sid. You are... uniquely...you." He studied the younger man intently then. "It's because of that, Cort, that we...I...have something to ask you."

Cort realizing how tightly he'd been squeezing Rachel's hand, released it, moving it so it rested curved over the top of his thigh, and placed his atop it, his thumb stroking her wrist. His eyes grew rather guarded as he pressed his lips together, waiting.

"Movies, Cort," Terry continued, "are an endless loop...for those within them. Though completely unaware of it, you... and I...lived our stories over and over. When you are inside that...knowing only that...it is... enough. But when you see the larger view of it....know the existence of the world...beyond... that, know that you can continue forward....can do new things... can find," he looked briefly at Rachel, "new people to...know, then there is no going back." He paused, waiting to see that Cort was following his line of thought.

Cort nodded. So far this made sense. To be in that dusty street again...with no Rachel. No. Never.

"Sid, uniquely Sid, was the first ever to find his way...out. It's a long story, best left for another time. But all this...," he made a broad gesture with his arm, "is because of that. And...then...he developed... ways...of getting others of his kind...," he paused again, grinning, "well, sort of of his kind, out, too. Me. Bud. And John Biebe, whom you've not met yet. Bud, I believe, shared his movie, his story with you?"

Cort nodded, remaining silent.

"So you have seen what it can be like for...another... of us." He licked his lips again. "I know all this is a big change for you and that you have many questions, much to adjust to. But I am hoping that you will listen to my proposition and consider it carefully." He spread his hands flat on the table in front of him, sort of a 'laying it all out' gesture. Cort understood the meaning of it.

"There is another of us that we need to retrieve, possibly the best-known of us all. But...he is also the furthest in the past in his setting of time and place. You, Cort, you were the first of us to come from another century. It wasn't even known...for sure...that that could be done. But you proved it could. And you bring with you certain, um, proclivities that will prove invaluable to us in successfully retrieving the General."

"General?"

"Yes, General Maximus Decimus Meridius."

Cort's eyes widened. "Rome? You are going after someone in...Rome?"

Terry nodded. "It is a very complex, very delicate mission. You were injured, though still standing, at the end of your movie, Cort. Maximus...dies. Over and over and over he dies. We intend to retrieve him just before that happens. I'm asking you to be part of the team that will...do that. My team. I'm going myself this time."

Cort's jaw worked. "I...I can't. I can't leave Rachel."

"She's part of my team, Cort. She's...going."

Cort jerked his head toward Rachel. "You're going! You're going to Rome?"

She nodded. "Maximus is my next assignment."

"Going?" he repeated, then looked back at Terry. "When?"

"As soon as all the preparations are completed."

Cort's head was whirling. He'd only just arrived in this place, in this time, and they wanted to send him back to another. "How?" he asked. "How do we...get...there?"

"The same way you got here, Cort," Terry explained, "only you were unconscious so don't remember. There is, in another part of this complex, a...room. A special room that acts as a doorway. The technology of it, I'm afraid, would mean little to you right now, but there are...controls...that open the doorway and we, well, we go through. It's been nicknamed the 'warp' because it rather, um, bends the laws of time and matter. But it is how Rachel came to you, how she brought you here."

Cort looked again at Rachel. "And you have to go?"

"Yes," she replied, "I do have to go." How could she say she wanted to go? But only if he came...only if he came, too. She'd been requested to leave the decision up to Cort alone.

She was leaving...going to a distant place...another time. He couldn't bear the thought of it. He knew he didn't know nearly enough to make a coherent decision. Had no idea of what would be demanded of him, what he would face, what they expected him to do for them. All he could think was that she was going. That was enough information for him. It was out of the question for him to be here...and he still was not really sure where 'here' was, without her. He looked back at Terry.

"I'm in," he said firmly. "I have to be in." Rome? Good Lord!

Terry smiled, understanding. He looked at Rachel, her face releasing a tight expression. He understood all too well what she was feeling. Long red hair flashed suddenly in front of his eyes. One down...one to go.

He stood, pushing back his chair. "We'll talk more later. There is much yet to be said, much to prepare." He smiled at Rachel. "Go. Take him to lunch, Luv. Spend some time alone together. I have one more...interview...yet today. I'll see you tomorrow."

He walked them to the door, standing there, watching, as they went down the long hall together, Cort's arm around her waist. This was a development he'd not foreseen.

But, then, he'd not foreseen 'Nolia, either, now had he?

^ * ^ * ^ * ^

Flights of fancy came nowhere near the actuality of the castle-like formation of NanoCorp, Inc tucked amid forests of pine, oak, and beech, hidden like a jeweled fortress from the mundane ubiquity of the surrounding city. Diedre watched as the taxi navigated the gentle swerves of the single road leading into the business park, a true park, with a lake and ducks and jogging trail. There were outbuildings nestled in among the trees here and there, but she could still only see the uppermost floors of the building euphemistically called “Emerald City.” This latest colloquialism she discovered when chatting with the hotel personnel, and she noted the words held as much mystery for the locals as they had for the inhabitants of Oz.

So it was all too easy to start calling the building that name herself once they rounded the last curve and pulled into the shaded parking lot. She had to pause a few moments after paying the taxi with the voucher Terry had given her, inspecting the front carefully for any sign that said “Doorbell Out of Order – Do Not Ring.” Of course, there was no such sign, but neither was there any obvious means of seeing the entrance, so completely did the architects employ thick green glass as their main structure material that mere things like door handles and hinges were obscured from discerning eyes. Seeing a couple of people exit where she had assumed a wall, Deidre pretended to check her outfit for flubs. She wore a rather conservative suit of a tailored wool skirt and matching tailored jacket that revealed the only frivolity Diedre felt due, a bundled bit of lace to discreetly fill the v-shaped gap at her breast. She didn’t dress this way very often; archaeologists tended to view such attire as conformist and overly much, but having some idea of Terry’s description of the company, Deidre had gone out of her way to find such an outfit. When the business suits she found proved to be too Manchurian for her liking, she improvised by falling back on her sense of old- fashioned Southern upbringing: a genuine lady always had a bit of lace about her.

Even so, she felt conspicuously dowdy when faced with the very young and smartly dressed receptionist in the main lobby, who had the good grace to smile with genuine greeting and point her in clear instructions the way to the main office on the fourth floor.

Terry hadn’t lied: Emerald City…rather, NanoCorp was a virtual community of its own, and the residents seemed to thrive in it. A large atrium of lush tropical plants was centered in the triangular center of the complex, a small rock-strewn stream burbling through it, intersected by a prosaic footpath that led to other parts of the building. Indeed, Diedre recalled snatches of phrases of an article she had once read about malls being virtual cities unto themselves, were they to contain everything a community needed to exist…and there was a diner here, a barber shop there! She very nearly missed the elevator bay because she wandered in admiring awe down the halls.

Even the elevators had the smell of stone and water and contained a green pleasant smell that Diedre found refreshing. Oh, she was going to like it here!

She stepped out onto the fourth floor to find the place virtually abandoned of humanity. There was a desk, a reception area with chairs and tables, fish tank in the wall with saltwater fish, a wonderful view of the surrounding parklands. But no people. Which was okay, Diedre decided, because she needed a few moments to calm herself. This was the kind of luxury you read about existing in high pressure law firms, doctors who were internationally demanded for their skill and got paid for their services well; the kind of office that a dirt-diggers like her had rare reason to wander into. She was just beginning to wonder if she shouldn’t just go back downstairs and ask that the receptionist call to see if Terry was around when the Man himself showed up.

He slipped out from behind a large cherry wood door down the hallway, looking around for something, and lit up like a firecracker when he saw her standing several feet away, on the verge of escaping. He let the door surrish! behind him before taking her hand, and even then, he was a bit speechless.

“You made it,” he said, grinning broadly. The hand that had taken hers to shake it did not let go and he stood smiling down at her.

“Only just. It’s a good thing the taxi knew where to go. On my own, I’d be half way to Kansas by now,” Diedre joked, nervously.

“Quite a place, eh?”

“Wow!” Diedre agreed, nodding. “So you want me to come work here?” she added, hoping she would be able to remain professional enough to keep from throwing her arms around his neck and embarrassing herself.

Terry nodded. “This is just a façade for what’s to come. You needn’t fear for what you’re going to do, though. We retrievers are actually very informal.”

Diedre could only raise an eyebrow and follow Terry back into the room he had departed.

They were the only ones there, although there was evidence that others had been there before she arrived. The far wall of the room was nothing but glass overlooking a lake and woods. The one to her right sported a viewing screen.

Diedre focused on Terry instead of trying to take it all in at once, taking a seat in a chair near where he had obviously set up as commander of the room.

“Erm….the others will be back in a bit, Nolia,” Terry leaned back, still a bit nervous, shuffling papers to get his thoughts in order. He was dealing with some uncertainties of his own. She thought him utterly adorable at the moment. “I’m glad you came when you did….need some…time to prepare you.”

Diedre felt her face fall like badly poured stucco.

“You don’t need me after all?” she quietly asked, mind racing between the choice to throw a fit or rapidly exit without a further look behind.

Terry reacted by kneeling before her and grabbed up her hand to plant fervent kisses on it.

“No, love, no. Far from it…its just that…well, there’s been a couple of shakeups this morning, already, and I’m a bit off my game. I have been looking forward to seeing you the moment we parted ways.” He looked up at her, face shining, blue-green eyes sparkling. “And…I’m nervous because I have a lot to introduce you to, and there’s no easy way to do it and…” he trailed off.

“Best way is to just lay it before me and let me sort it out as I can,” Deidre offered as solace, but Terry shook his head.

“This isn’t any normal contract. Not any normal company you’ve ever encountered. In fact,” he paused, taking a deep breath. “When you see the others, you’ll have an instant idea just what NanoCorp is invested in. It might even be… frightening to you. It was… a bit…for Rachel…” he added, biting his lower lip in remembered regret.

“When do I get to meet everyone?” Diedre asked, trying to sound lighter than she felt. Something about Terry’s words began to affect her.

“She and Cort should be back from lunch any time now with Bud. Your boss, your ‘big’ boss can wait until he…well, he has some things he needs to get straight in his head and he knows how much is staked on your…on this next mission.” Terry sat down in the chair next to Diedre. “Which is just as well, because I’d much rather break it to you gently, in words, before you see what you are going to see.”

Diedre decided she needed to prod Terry into full confession or she would start screaming for Auntie Em.

“Spit it out, my dear Aussie,” she murmured, squeezing his hand to let him know she was ready.
^ * ^ * ^ * ^

He grinned, a grin that didn't really quite cover his nervousness. He'd just presented the same thing to Cort, but this was not at all the same. Not only was it Diedre, but she was...modern. She knew about this time. She would have to be approached...differently.

He blew out a long breath, studying her. The forest green of her suit set off her hair amazingly...so amazingly that he lost his train of thought for a moment. The front sections of her hair had been pulled up in a twist, giving her a much more professional appearance than he was used to. "I missed you," he said softly.

She smiled. "Me, too. But, Terry, what's this all about? Why is it so hard to tell me?"

"Did you see Gladiator?" he asked, jumping off the cliff rather than getting his ankles wet.

"I did," she replied. "In fact, I always thought you looked remarkably like that actor who played Maximus."

"I do. You're right, 'Nolia. Strikingly like him, in fact." My God, what was he DOING?

"Ah, so you think so, too, eh?" she chuckled.

"I...know...so," he said, lifting eyes suddenly serious to hers.

Afterwards, he was never quite sure if God had been in a particularly jovial mood that day or what....but just then the door opened and Bud popped his head in. "Terry," he called, "wanted to let you know Rachel called me and said she and Cort would see you tomorrow. They decided not to come back after lunch."

He turned toward Diedre. "You must be Diedre. Didn't realize you'd arrived already. Glad to meet you." He extended his hand. "White, Bud White."

She had started to stretch her hand toward his but paused it in midair when he turned and she could see his face clearly. "Bud...White?" she repeated. "From the LAPD Bud White?"

Terry paled. "You...saw...LA Confidential?"

"Certainly," she replied. "It was a good movie." She looked back at Bud. "You surely DO resemble...." She stopped again. Looking from Bud to Terry then back to Bud. "...that cop." Her voice faltered. "And...and...each other."

Bud looked at Terry, who shrugged and said, "Cliff. I jumped off the cliff."

"I'd say so," Bud replied. "You want me to stay...or go?"

"Might be better if you left. Sorry."

Bud smiled strangely. "I'll be in my office. Buzz if you need anything. Nice to meet you, Diedre. Hang in there. It gets...easier."

Then he was gone. Diedre gazed at Terry, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"Ok, Terry. What the heck is going ON?"

"Did...did...you see Proof of Life?" he gulped.

"No, I was in the Sinai when that came out. Why?"

He sighed, breathing deeply. "That was me...my movie."

"You...you're an...actor?"

"No, that was just...me."

"Wouldn't that make you an actor, then?"

"No. No, it wouldn't." He looked at her steadily. "It would make me a K&R agent. It would have me going around the world trying to save kidnap victims."

She blinked. "But...but...that IS what you do!"

"Yes," he nodded, "but that's...why...I do it."

"Why?" She was completely lost. "Your job is like the job of the guy in that movie? Is that what you're saying?"

"Not...like. Is."

"Is? TERRY! Just tell me what this damn thing IS you're trying to TELL me!"

"He's...me. He is Terry Thorne. I...am...Terry Thorne."

"I KNOW you're Terry Thorne, for Pete's sake!" she burst out. "What has the movie got to DO with THAT?"

He got up, walked to the desk and pulled out a picture. He stood there a long moment, just looking at it silently, then handed it to her. It was a still from the end of the movie, the words 'Proof of Life' written across its bottom. It was him, standing on the hill, his eyes halfway between loss and acceptance. She looked at the picture then up at him. His eyes had very much the same expression.

"You?" she stammered. "This is...you?"

He nodded. "How can that...be?" she asked, her voice hollow. Why couldn't he have told her something...simple...like he was married and had five kids?

"It's NanoCorp," he sighed, kneeling in front of her once more, taking both her hands between his. "It's what it's all about. The technology is...mind-boggling, 'Nolia, absolutely mind-boggling."

She agreed. Her mind was certainly boggled. But he'd said the word 'Nolia’ and the sound of it, his use of it, hung there in the air in front of her. She wanted to grab it, clutch it, stuff it somewhere it would be safe. "Tell me, Terry. You've got to tell me."

He stayed where he was, holding her hands, looking up into her face. "I've ...I've dreaded having to tell you this. Didn't know how you'd take it, what you'd think…what you would do."

Terry took her hand and pressed it to his chest. "It beats, 'Nolia, just as real and full of life as yours. And it...feels...oh, God, 'Nolia, how it feels." He blinked rapidly. This was the first time he'd faced something like this, something as important as this.

"Sid...Sid from Virtuosity...do you know that one?" She shook her head no. "Well, he was a computer program...created to give the LAPD...practice. He's unique in that he's not actually human. A nanotech organism."

"Nanotech?" she repeated.

"Yes. He was the first. He's so smart, has such...resources at his command...and he figured out a way to...leave."

"Leave?"

"Yes, leave his movie." He sighed. "And...then...he came and got others of us. Me. Bud. John Biebe from Mystery, Alaska. And just recently, Cortland Wells. Cort," he continued, "is from the 1880's. He was a...test case...to see if we could retrieve ones from past centuries. He was the closest to our time yet still from another era."

Her mind was racing. Terry had asked if she'd seen Gladiator. My God! Was THAT the Roman General?

"You said," she spoke, her voice firm, kept carefully level, "that you were going to retrieve a General. Did you mean... Maximus?"

Again he blew out his breath. "Yes," he admitted. "That's our package. We plan to retrieve him before he dies in the arena."

She sat back in her chair, pulling her hands free from his, lacing her fingers together. "How do you...get... there, Terry?"

And, so, he explained about the warp and how it permitted them to travel into the body of a film near its ending. He explained about Rachel...and Cort. And somehow, she had no idea how, he made it make sense. Perhaps it was his manner, the tone of his voice. He was just so...normal...about it. Bud had been...normal. This was the wildest thing she'd ever heard, though. How in hell could it be normal?

"And...and...," she added, "Rachel is NOT from a movie, yet she can go into one?"

"Into the very ending of one, yes. We’ve tried entering at other points and…well, let’s just say we’ve determined the best procedure is to go in at the end of the movie. Rachel goes...and is going on the Maximus Mission, along with Cort."

"And...and...this...is what you would like me to do...too? Go back to 180 AD and save a fictional General from a fictional death?"

"He's not really...fictional, 'Nolia. He's...he's...just...waiting... to be real. Like me." He licked his lips. "When...when...you come through the warp...that first instant one of us arrives...here...it all changes. Everything...changes. And we...I...am just as real, with all the memories of a lifetime, as...you. I can't explain it. It just...is."

She closed her eyes, trying to grasp what he was saying. He didn't used to be real but now he was? Had she developed feelings for a wooden puppet with a long nose? Opening her lids slowly, she looked into his eyes. That same Terry who had tortured her on the mountain, had saved her on the mountain, had kissed her on the mountain...that same Terry looked back at her.

"Kiss me," she said suddenly, needing to test the reality of that.

He looked startled a moment, but then rose up on his knees, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her slowly, gently off her chair. He lay back, taking her with him, so that she was atop him and he tangled his hands in her hair and kissed her more thoroughly than she'd ever been kissed in her life. She was left limp from it, vibrating, her body wanting him, all of him.

Finally she lifted her head, her lids half lowered. "Real enough," she murmured, then her lips searched again for his.

PART 3

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