Fic: Farscape - His Sister's Legacy - Adult - Parts Four and Five

[tanaquific]

Title: His Sister's Legacy
Fandom: Farscape
Rating: Adult
Word Count: 65,305 words

Summary: A "mundane AU" inspired by the "Unconventional Courtship" challenge.

Inheriting half of his late sister’s company means John Crichton is now Aeryn Sun’s business partner – to their mutual dismay!

Working together to keep Moya Enterprises out of the hands of a rival corporation run by Herr Skorpinski, they are forced to confront their growing attraction. Then John discovers that Aeryn promised his sister that she’d do anything—anything at all—to keep the company hers—and that there's a lot else she hasn't told him.

John doesn’t want a relationship based on cold-hearted calculation or half-truths. But can he trust that Aeryn's feelings for him are real?

Disclaimer: This story is a transformative work based on the Jim Henson Company/Nine Network/Hallmark Entertainment/A&E series Farscape. It was written for entertainment only; the author does not profit from it.
Author's Notes: The story is set during the same timeframe as canon i.e. it begins in 1999. However, to allow for the backstories I've developed for John and Aeryn in this alternate universe, both have been aged up by about ten years from their ages in canon and are now both around 40. Thanks to scribblesinink for the cheerleading, brainstorming and beta services.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Sitting at his desk, John snatched up the phone as soon as it rang, no longer caring that Aeryn would know how eager he was. "Crichton."

"John." Aeryn's voice was warm; he could almost see her smile. "It is good to hear you."

"You too." It had been a long four days since they'd said goodbye at the airport. They'd exchanged a few emails, but they'd been about business matters and he'd been careful to follow her lead and keep his replies strictly professional. A shiver ran through him as memories of being with her—a kiss, the touch of her hand, her laugh—flashed through his mind.

"So, thank you for the details of your conference." He could hear her shuffling papers on her desk. Dragging his mind away from the past, he tried to focus on the present. This was supposed to be their business call, after all; the personal stuff would just have to wait until Sunday. "I have been able to arrange to spend some time in London then. I will have some meetings, but otherwise I will be all yours."

"All mine?" he couldn't help asking, his mouth going dry at the thought of what that might involve.

"Yes." She sounded amused. "I am sure we will have much to discuss."

"Discuss. Yeah." He cleared his throat.

"Speaking of which, I would like to discuss the file today." Her tone had turned brisk.

"File?" It took him a moment to recall what she meant. Then he lightly smacked his fist against his forehead. "Damn. Sorry. I forgot to look at it." He could picture it exactly where he'd left it, on top of the other papers on his dining table. Assuming he hadn't covered it with another load of student scripts or this month's journals in the past couple of days.

"Oh. I see." Her disappointment was clear.

"You can't explain it to me now on the phone?" he asked hopefully.

"It is rather complicated, John." She was doing her best to hide her impatience and frustration but he knew her well enough now to hear it. "And important."

"Yeah, I know." He scrubbed his hand across his face. "I'll read it tonight, I promise. I'm writing myself a note right now to remind me. And we can talk about it on Sunday." He dragged a pad of post-it notes across the desk and scribbled A's file on the top one.

"Very well." She sounded like she didn't entirely believe him, but he was going to make damn sure he didn't forget a second time.

He peeled the post-it note off the pad and slapped it inside the lid of his briefcase, where he'd be sure to see it when he got home. "So what else is new?"

"We made the offer for the internship to our preferred student and she has accepted. So that is good." He heard another rustle of paper. "I am still waiting to hear more from your colleagues about the research, though. But we have reached the shortlist for two more contracts, in France and in Austria. We were not successful with the bank in Spain, unfortunately. And there are—.

She went on working her way down the list of developments with Moya since the two of them had had dinner the previous week. John asked the occasional question, but mostly he listened.

"That's it?" he asked, when she seemed to be done. It had only taken half an hour and usually they spoke for longer. Of course, they'd covered off a lot the previous week.

"Yes. I had thought—." She stopped. He realized she'd expected to spend the rest of the time talking about the file and the possible new arrangement.

"Sunday," he promised hastily. "I'll definitely have had a proper look by Sunday."

In the end, he didn't need the note to remind him: the need to look at the file was constantly in his mind for the rest of the afternoon. Arriving home, he immediately looked for the folder, discovering that, yes, it had been buried under a couple of journals and a set of conference papers he'd brought home from the office on Monday.

Grabbing a beer from the fridge, he settled himself on the couch and flipped open the folder. Everything was in both German and English, with a scribbled note from Aeryn stuck to the front page, pointing to the statement that the agreement would be governed by the German text and German law. Also reminding John he should have the contract reviewed by his lawyers in Germany before signing anything.

Reading on, John discovered the front page was the only part of the file that made any sense to him. As Aeryn had promised, there were several options—and he soon found himself lost in a confusion of 'original and new valuation dates', a variety of ways of calculating 'compensatory interest rates' and 'index-linked appreciation', and a suggestion for some kind of staged purchase that seemed to give Aeryn effective control of the company in the short term, allowing her to make decisions without consulting him, in return for a higher purchase price.

Reaching the last page and the end of his beer at the same time, he threw the document down in disgust. Aeryn had said he was a smart man, but he couldn't make head nor tail of what any of this meant or which option he should choose. He didn't think Aeryn was deliberately trying to run rings round him—Olivia would no doubt have figured it out within two minutes flat—but he might as well have read the German version for all the sense the English was making.

But he owed it to both Livvy and Aeryn to try. Dragging the phone toward him, he punched in the number of the local pizza place. While he waited for his order to arrive, he fetched another beer, a pad of paper and a pen, and opened the folder again.

By the end of the evening, he had an empty pizza box and several sheets covered with scribbles, and he thought he knew broadly what Aeryn was offering—but he still had no idea what answer to give her. Best he just ask her which option she preferred and go with that.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence on the other end of the line when he laid that out for her on Sunday morning. At last she said slowly. "John, I cannot do that. You must choose. You must decide what is best for you."

"Does it matter?" He picked up the phone and began pacing around the room. "It's a few thousand dollars here or there for something I never expected to have and that I've ended up with for the worst possible reason."

Again, she took a while to answer. "It matters to me." Her voice was quiet and fierce. "I do not wish people to say that I cheated you out of what is yours. That I did not treat you fairly."

John snorted a laugh. "You been talking to my Dad?"

"See?" He could hear the hurt in her voice. "Already they think I may be a murderer. Soon, if they think I have stolen your part of the company from you, they will be sure of it."

"Hey, hey." He wished they were together so he could hold her. He was finally starting to understand why this was so important to her and wishing he'd picked up on that the previous weekend and taken the time to figure it out while she was there. "That's not gonna happen."

She drew in a long deep breath as if calming herself. "John—."

"Look, I'll talk to a couple of people about it," he promised her. He could always find an accountant to crunch the numbers, he guessed, though it really wasn't about the money. It was about doing what Olivia would've done and about letting Aeryn take control of the company that mattered more to her than almost anything else. Maybe Susan could help him figure it out. She'd taken a few business courses back in college. "I'll let you know on Thursday."

She accepted his promise, but the topic hung over the rest of the call, and he couldn't cajole her into the kind of light flirting they'd fallen into while they'd been together over the previous weekend. Even his attempts to tell her how much he missed her and wanted to be with her sounded stiff and stilted in his ears.

He was still kicking himself when he met DK for their run later in the morning. "Should've just picked a number between one and four," he grumbled as the two of them puffed along beside each other.

"Is it really that hard to figure out?" DK shot him a sideways smirk. "It's not exactly rocket science…."

John huffed a breathless laugh. "Nah. Rocket science I can do. Business finance, not so much." He hesitated and added, as much to himself as for DK's benefit, "Or getting serious."

"She really means that much to you?" DK glanced across at John as they rounded a corner. John had confessed earlier in the week that Aeryn's visit had gone far better than he'd expected, though he'd tried his best to play it down. DK had already been giving him a hard enough time about Aeryn being the reason he'd wanted to increase the distance they covered in their run each week and he'd flat-out refused to get involved in anything as ridiculous as sit-ups and press-ups.

John didn't answer until they'd covered another hundred yards or so, reluctant to voice the truth in case he jinxed it. Then he said slowly. "She's the one, DK. Like you with Laura. From the first moment I laid eyes on her again, over in Germany… I knew."

DK snorted. "Man, I have got to meet this woman properly next time she's here. Sure sounds like she knows how to hook you Crichtons. First Olivia, now you…."

"Assuming we make it that far." John rolled his eyes. "I reckon she's gonna dump my sorry ass if I keep screwing up all this business crap we're mixed up in. But I just want to do right by her. And Olivia. I just want to do what Livvy would have wanted."

He tried to explain that to Susan when he called her that evening.

"And what about what's best for you, John?" she asked when he'd fumbled his way through the various options. "Shouldn't you be looking after your own interests, too?"

"Yes, but…." He tried to put into words the feeling he'd had ever since he'd found out he'd inherited Olivia's half of the business. "This is Aeryn's company. Aeryn's and Livvy's. I wasn't the one who put in the hard work to make it what it is."

Susan made a faintly disapproving noise. "But Livvy did. And you've spent quite a bit of time since she died helping to run it, haven't you? God knows, you've complained enough about all the calls and presentations and having to make decisions. So some of the success—some of the reason it's worth more now than it was—is down to you."

He shrugged. "I guess. I did introduce her to the guys at MIT…."

"And it seems like Aeryn's trying to take account of that, but she isn't sure how to do that either. " Susan sounded like she was thinking through her answer as she spoke. "You could get someone with more experience in this stuff than me to go through the options and give you some more exact figures, but it sounds like everything's changing so fast it might not help. All I can suggest is that if you think the company's going to go on growing, you pick the option based on the future value. If you're not so sure about that, maybe go for the current value plus interest."

John could feel the beginnings of a headache behind his eyes, but he appreciated Susan's attempts to help. "Thanks, sis. I just wish Livvy was here…."

Susan sighed. "Yeah, me too. And for what it's worth, I think Dad's wrong. I don't think Aeryn's trying to rip you off."

John snorted. "He said that?"

"Uh-huh." He could hear Susan's apologetic grimace. "Along with a lot of other stuff. You know how he gets sometimes. At least you shouldn't be tied to this woman for forever."

John hesitated, wondering whether he should say anything or not. Experience suggested it was only going to be worse the longer it took Dad to find out. "Uh, might be for a while," he confessed. "We're… kinda dating."

Susan groaned. "Dammit. I hate being right. I thought there was something like that going on."

"Yeah." John was surprised she hadn't asked him outright before this, but maybe she and Dad had been hoping the whole thing would fizzle out once he and Aeryn were apart.

Susan didn't say anything for a few seconds. Then: "You want me to tell Dad or not?"

He shook his head, not wanting to lay this on her but too chicken to call Dad himself and straight out admit it. "What ever gets you in least trouble. I know I'm gonna be in the doghouse, either way. And hey, thanks for the advice."

She chuckled. "Such as it was. But you're welcome. And John? Take care of yourself, okay? And try not to argue with Dad too much. Please. We don't see enough of you as it is."

He smiled wryly to himself. "Yeah, I know. Miss you too, sis."

Hanging up, he wondered how long it would take to bring his father around. He couldn't imagine Aeryn would be willing to help him with a charm offensive. But they'd get there. It might take a while, but he had hope.

oOo

The new share purchase arrangement had been agreed, sent, signed and returned—and John had already endured a couple of awkward phone conversations with his father in which it was evident he was now aware John was dating Aeryn but steadfastly refusing to acknowledge her existence—by the time John found himself taking a phone call from a slightly unexpected quarter: Allen Hendricks of the US Consulate in Munich.

Up to that point, John had needed to badger Hendricks to get any information at all out of him. It had therefore been something of a surprise to return to his office one afternoon and find a note from the lab secretary to say Hendricks had called and had provisionally set a time to ring John a few days later to discuss some "recent developments".

"So, what's new?" John asked, once the very brief pleasantries were out of the way.

"The good news is that the police believe they have identified the men who carried out the sabotage on your sister's car. Two former Stasi agents who have been unofficially linked to a number of similar crimes but never prosecuted." Hendricks sounded like he was trying to be as upbeat as possible.

"And the bad news?" There was bound to be bad news.

He could almost hear Hendricks' shrug. "The evidence is all circumstantial at present: they were in Munich; they each received substantial payments shortly before and after your sister's death; it's the word in the criminal underworld that they were responsible—not that that counts for anything."

"But the police are still digging?" John picked up a pen and began twisting it between his fingers.

There was a rustle of papers from the other end of the line. "Yes. I understand they finally have some wiretaps in place and they are also working to obtain a number of court orders in various jurisdictions to trace the money."

"Well, that's good." John was beginning to wonder why Hendricks had felt this warranted a phone call, when he'd been so slow to report on the progress of the investigation in the past.

Hendricks cleared his throat. "There's something else. The police have also obtained some new information about Frau Doktor Sun. About her time in the Stasi."

John dropped the pen and sat up straighter. Bad news about Aeryn? Well, that explained why Hendricks was calling. He wasn't sure, though, what the police could have found out at this point that could be at all significant. "I thought they'd read her files from cover to cover as soon as they decided she was a suspect." He didn't bother to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

"They did." Hendricks gave an apologetic cough, clearly picking up on John's tone. "This was some new information that came from an informer. The police interviewed some of Frau Doktor Sun's former colleagues and they broadly confirmed it."

"And?" John was getting tired of Hendricks dancing around the topic. "What's she supposed to have done?"

"There was an incident a couple of years after she joined the Stasi." Hendricks was evidently trying to present a factual report, but John could hear his disapproval leaking out around the edge of his words. "She denounced her immediate superior for 'subversion'. He was arrested and subsequently imprisoned, largely on the basis of the testimony she provided about various things he'd said to her. He died in prison."

Hendricks paused, waiting for John to acknowledge what he'd said. John rested his forehead on his hand, his mind reeling as he tried to make sense of this new information. He knew Aeryn had likely done things she wasn't proud of during her time in the Stasi; wasn't it part of the reason she'd set up Moya in the first place? He also knew that denouncing people had been commonplace at the time and that sometimes it had been a terrible act of self-preservation. And Aeryn must have been very young, only around twenty. He'd gotten up to some pretty dumb stuff himself at the same age, even if the consequences hadn't been quite so severe.

"Professor Crichton?" Hendricks prompted. "Are you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here." John drew in a deep breath. "Isn't that… pretty much how things worked back then? And you don't know what kind of pressure she might have been under herself…."

Hendricks gave another apologetic cough. "What's not in the file, but it was confirmed by all her former colleagues who were interviewed, is that the two of them were lovers at the time her superior was arrested. Also, after she denounced him, she was transferred to one of the most coveted sections in their department, ahead of several people with more seniority."

John swallowed. "You're saying she sold him out for a promotion?"

"At the very least, yes. According to the original informant, although nobody else has corroborated it, she seduced him, and not the other way around, in order to get close enough to him that she could betray him for the promotion she wanted."

John thought about the woman he knew. She was tough and determined and driven, but nothing he'd seen suggested she was quite as cold-blooded and calculating as Hendricks was suggesting. Livvy had trusted her; the people who worked for her clearly admired her; and he'd felt she'd tried to be as fair as she could be in her business dealings with himself. Whereas Hendricks had always had been hostile.

"Why are you telling me this?" John snapped. "Are you warning me not to… to do business with her?" He could imagine only too clearly how Hendricks would react if he told him that he and Aeryn were now lovers.

"I just thought it was information it was appropriate for you to have, Professor Crichton." Hendricks sounded equally annoyed: just doing my job. "So you have the full picture of who you're dealing with and can make your own mind up."

"Well, I appreciate the… consideration for my well-being," John attempted to keep his tone civil, aware that Hendricks probably did have a responsibility to pass on the news. "Now, if there isn't anything else…."

After Hendricks put down the phone, John went on sitting at his desk for a while, going over what he'd learned for a second time and trying to make sense of it. Had Livvy known? Was this one of the things she'd still been finding out a year or more into her relationship with Aeryn? And if she had known, had she cared? More to the point, did John care? Did it matter what Aeryn had done nearly twenty years before, in a world that was very different to this one, where the Berlin Wall was still in place and the Cold War was still hot?

And, after all, was what Hendricks had told him the truth? The whole truth? John wanted to hear the story from Aeryn: what had actually happened and why she'd done what she had. But it wasn't the sort of thing you could ask someone over the phone: So, is it true you once betrayed a lover for a promotion?

His gaze fell on his diary, spread out in one corner of the desk. It was only three weeks until the London conference. He and Aeryn would be seeing each other immediately after. This could wait until then, until he could talk to her properly about it, face to face. And, really, what difference could it make? He knew Aeryn. He knew how he felt about her and he knew how Livvy had felt about her.

With a start, he realized he needed to be somewhere else entirely in the next ten minutes. Pushing to his feet, he began gathering his things together.

Hendricks' news had been a little unsettling, for sure. But everything would be fine once he saw Aeryn again.

oOo

John tried not to feel too much relief as the conference chairman launched into his closing remarks. The event itself had been a success: his paper extending his theories about spacecraft acceleration had been well-received; he'd had several productive discussions about his own work and the work of colleagues; and he'd made a number of extremely useful new connections. But for most of the afternoon, all he'd been able to think about was that he'd be seeing Aeryn in a few hours.

The two of them would have the typical stack of business issues related to Moya to discuss, of course, and he needed to find a tactful way to bring up Hendricks' revelations. But all that could wait, while they enjoyed the sheer pleasure of being able to see and touch each other again. Phone calls just weren't the same, even if Aeryn had surprised him—and gotten him very hot and bothered—by initiating a little phone sex the last time they'd spoken.

At last, the conference was over. Pulling his cellphone out of his pocket as he left the auditorium, John dialed Aeryn's number.

He couldn't help grinning as she answered. "Hey, babe."

"Hello, John." She sounded as if she was smiling as well.

"Conference just ended. You back at your hotel?" She'd been in London two days already, but they'd decided not to meet up until they were both finished with official business. It would simply be too distracting to see each other before then, though he'd been sorely tempted to sneak over and see her at midnight the previous night.

"I have just arrived." He heard a clatter that sounded like keys being put down.

"I'll be right there, then. Shouldn't take more than an hour." Assuming the subway system wasn't fouled up, like it often seemed to be.

"I will be ready." There was an edge of expectation in her voice that made him shiver. She gave him the room number and hung up.

Grabbing his bags from the coat check, he headed out. The transport gods were smiling on him: three quarters of an hour later, he was knocking on the door of her hotel room.

When she opened it, he saw she'd loosened her hair and changed into something less formal that her usual work attire. That was all had time to take in, before he closed the door behind him, dropped his bags and drew her into his arms for a long, intense kiss.

She wrapped her arms around him, kissing him back just as fiercely. His body sang with the feel of her pressed against him, familiar and yet dizzyingly strange, the blood hammering in his ears as he tasted her and breathed in her scent and ran his hands over her.

They pirouetted a turn further into the room, toward the bed, still kissing. Then Aeryn pulled back, her hands on either side of his face. "Business now or later?"

He wasn't entirely sure if the question was serious or if she was teasing him, because she surely knew there was only one answer.

"Later," he growled, tightening his arms around her and capturing her mouth again. They took another step toward the bed and he let his mouth slide away from hers to nuzzle her neck, his hands rucking up her T-shirt. She slipped her hand down between them to cover his cock and he let out a groan as she touched him, her palm sliding over him.

She laughed, her breath tickling his neck. "You are not so good as Olivia at business, but you do have… certain advantages over her in bed."

"Uh-huh." He had his eyes closed, his hips pushing his cock harder against her hand, and it took him a moment to register what she'd said. Even then, with her hand sliding down, the heel of her palm grinding against him, her fingers cupping him through his pants, the remark almost passed him by, but… in bed?

He pulled away, staring at her. "Did you say in bed?" There was a moment of panic in Aeryn's eyes, gone as soon as he'd caught it, but he could feel the sudden tension in her, through the hand that still covered his cock and his own hand resting on her back. See it in the tightening of her expression as she looked back at him. Not the excitement and anticipation of a few moments earlier but a growing anxiety.

He groped for the right words, trying to put the pieces together in a way that made sense, except this was never going to make sense. "You and Olivia were in bed together?"

Still she didn't say anything, just looked at him with eyes that seemed ever wider and darker and more fearful.

He fumbled on, almost unable to formulate the thought, because it was so outrageous. "The two of you? In bed? Together?" He stopped again, expecting any moment that she would start laughing, once she'd gotten over how ridiculous the accusation was, but she still made no reply. Which was surely as good as a full confession. "You had sex with my sister?" he got out at last.

Even then, he expected her to deny it, to shake her head and tell him she hadn't meant that at all, that he'd misunderstood. Instead, she glanced away, biting her lip, before she swung her gaze back to meet his. "Yes." Her voice was soft but quite steady, with neither bravado nor boasting. Simply confirming a fact.

He pushed back further, holding her at arm's length. His initial disbelief had turned to shock. "You…?" He licked his lips, trying to get his tongue to work, until he managed to blurt out. "And you didn't think maybe you should have told me that?"

She gave him one of those cautious, considering looks that he knew meant she was thinking carefully about her answer. Finally, as if pacifying an angry child, she said, "I did not think it was important. And there was no good time." She gave a slight shrug.

"Not important?" He stared at her disbelievingly. She and Olivia had been having a… a… a Thing—he couldn't even begin to find the right word to describe that the two of them had been lovers in some way—and then…. Then Livvy had died—no, been murdered—and whatever it was that had been going on between them had been so unimportant to Aeryn that she hadn't thought to mention it. Not even when he'd asked her outright, more than once, to tell him about Livvy and about her life in Germany.

Not even when she'd been dragging him into bed as well. Fuck it, Livvy had barely been cold in her grave before Aeryn had been climbing all over him. What did that make him? Some kind of replacement for Livvy? A way to still have her now she was gone? "I guess that means I'm not important either," he spat.

Aeryn started to shake her head, but he wasn't having any of it. Maybe they were important—he and Livvy—but not because Aeryn cared about them. No, maybe Aeryn had kept her affair with Livvy a secret from him, and led him on, because she'd been playing them both. Maybe this woman—this incredible, smart, talented, beautiful woman, who'd he'd been so sure was the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with—really was the con-artist Dad thought she was.

Not stopping to think about it, but wanting to hurt her, because everything—everything!—had been built on lies, on a mountain of lies, he reached down inside him and pulled out something he knew would hurt her as much as she'd just hurt him. "Just like screwing over your Stasi lover wasn't important?"

Her eyes narrowed, her expression turning to something harder and angrier. Then she reached up and, with a sharp movement, forced his hands off her shoulders and took a pace back. He realized once he'd let go that he'd been digging his fingers into her hard enough to leave a mark. "They told you about that, then?" Her voice was icy.

"Uh-huh." He flexed his hands, curling them momentarily into fists and then opening them again. "Were you ever going to get round to mentioning that, either? Or would that have gotten in the way of you fucking other people—like me, like Olivia—so that it was easier for you to fuck them over?"

Her face tightened, her teeth worrying at her lower lip as she looked back at him, her expression somewhere between misery and anger. She shifted her feet slightly, as if she were preparing to repel an attack—or launch one. He didn't care. Let her. Let her prove once and for all that he was her punching bag. Recklessly, he spat out, "Maybe my dad and Hendricks and everyone else are right. Maybe you did have Olivia killed, after all."

She took a step back at that, reeling almost as if he'd been the one to land a punch. Then she drew herself up and took a deep breath. "I did not have Olivia killed. I loved her." Her accent was more pronounced than usual. "And if you think I am capable of such a thing, then—." She took another deep breath. "The truth? Yes, we had sex, Olivia and I. Once. One night. Very early on. And then we decided that, though we did not regret it, we were better as friends. And, for what it is worth, I think about and regret what I did to Volker every day of my life."

He glared back at her, part of him wanting to believe her and find a way to get past this, and part of him finding it impossible, now he knew what he knew. He turned over what she'd told him, again and again, looking for the lies she was surely still telling him: looking for what she hadn't said as much as testing what she'd offered up. "So you did seduce Olivia?"

"No." She shook her head. Her shoulders sagged a little. "We were both a little drunk one evening and she made the first move. It was not a mistake, but we agreed it was not smart to add that kind of relationship to our being in business together. We wanted Moya more than we wanted each other, I think."

It was John's turn to shake his head. "That doesn't make any sense. Why would Olivia make the first move? She wasn't into girls. She liked guys."

Aeryn gave him a rueful smile. "No, John. Sometimes, yes, it is true. But mostly she liked girls."

They were both talking more quietly now, though neither of them had entirely relaxed and there was still a gulf between them far wider than the three or four feet of hotel carpet that separated them. Especially as John was sure Aeryn was lying about this. He'd been Livvy's brother, dammit. "She had boyfriends," he pointed out. "In high school. In college. After."

Aeryn made a face. "Most of them were not boys, John." She spoke very gently. "She only told you they were. Because of your father, I think."

That made sense if it was true. While Dad didn't show off his bigotry unless provoked—mostly he adopted a policy of ignoring things he didn't like, pretending they simply didn't exist—he'd definitely expressed the view more than once that being gay was "unnatural". If Livvy had been into girls as well as guys, she would have kept it from the rest of the family. Though maybe Mom and Susan had known.

He met Aeryn's gaze again. "And you? Do you like girls?"

She shrugged. "Now and then. Not often. Mostly I prefer men."

Men like him. Aeryn had loved Olivia—she'd declared it loudly and proudly—and John, as Olivia's brother, had the advantage of both having all the preferred bits and being close enough to actually being Olivia that he'd do in a pinch, even if he was evidently a poor substitute in many ways.

But Aeryn had made it clear, in the way she'd hidden so much of herself from John, that he was very much a second choice. She didn't respect him or trust him—or love him—the way she'd respected, trusted and loved Olivia. And sleeping with him evidently wouldn't get in the way of running Moya the way sleeping with Olivia would have done. In fact, quite the opposite: it had meant she'd been able to twist him round her little finger to get what she wanted whenever she'd needed a decision about the business.

"You should have told me," he said again. "About you and Olivia." He turned away and picked up his bags, hefting his suit carrier over his shoulder.

"John?"

His name on her lips still sent a shiver through him. He paused with his hand on the door handle. "I'm going to check in somewhere else. If you've got anything for me to read, leave it down in reception and I'll swing by to pick it up. Call me Thursday as usual to discuss… whatever it is we still need to talk about."

Yanking open the door, he flung himself out into the hallway, not daring to look back. He'd been so sure she was the one, that they were meant to be together—but, for her, he'd simply been… convenient.

How could he have been so wrong?

oOo

Part Five

John levered himself off the couch to answer the doorbell as it rang for a third time. He'd ignored it on the first and second occasions, hoping whoever it was would go away. Now they were leaning on the buzzer, clearly not prepared to let up until they got a reply.

He shambled along the hall and pressed the intercom. "Yeah?"

"Hey, John, it's DK. What gives? You didn't turn up for our run and you weren't answering your phone."

John closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the wall next to the intercom. Crap, it must be Wednesday evening already.

The buzzer gave another short yelp. John put his finger back on the intercom button. DK's voice came tinnily through the speaker. "You gonna let me in?"

John sighed, hesitating for a moment, before he reluctantly pressed the button to unlock the door, recognizing DK wasn't going to leave quietly if he just ignored him. By the time he got around to opening the apartment front door, DK had already nearly reached the top of the stairs.

"What's—?" DK checked on the top step. "Man, you look like crap. You okay?"

John waved a hand vaguely in answer and turned away to head back down the hall. He heard DK follow him inside and close the door after him. Reaching the living room, John turned back round to face DK. "She played me."

DK hesitated on the threshold of the living room, his gaze taking in the bottles and empty take-out boxes strewn across the coffee table and spilling onto the floor next to the couch. He brought his attention back up to John's face. "Aeryn?"

"Uh-huh." John threw himself onto the couch and reached for his glass. It was empty. He managed to squeeze a last measure out of the bottle of Jack Daniels standing next to it. Setting the bottle back down, he tossed back the drink. "Me and Livvy both."

"Wanna tell me about it?" DK had made his way a bit further into the room and was picking up the take-out cartons and stacking them together."

"Not really." John slumped back on the couch, closing his eyes and rubbing his fingers across his forehead. DK was still moving around, clinking bottles together. John said slowly, "I found out she slept with Livvy, too."

"Uh-huh, that figures."

John opened his eyes and blinked at DK. "What?"

DK picked up an unsteady pile of cartons and snagged a couple of bottles in his other hand. "Her being a lesbian and all," he said offhandedly.

"What?" John pushed himself upright and leaned forward. "You knew already?"

DK gave him a long, thoughtful look. "Oookay. I guess you didn't…"

"But how—?" John frowned up at him.

DK shrugged. "Dude, did you never notice her checking out half the same girls you were checking out? Besides, I kinda had hopes with her myself at one point, remember? And no, I don't think she was a lesbian just because she turned me down. Now," he lifted the cartons he was holding slightly, "you got any trash bags in the kitchen?"

"I guess. Under the sink." John finally registered DK's efforts to pick up. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Cleaning up so we can order some more food and you can fill me in on what happened while you were away." DK dipped his head in John's direction. "You should go clean yourself up, too."

John had to admit he did feel a little better once he'd showered and thrown on some clean clothes, though it didn't do anything to scrub away the ache inside him. When he made his way back into the living room, DK handed him a coke. "Here. Food's on its way."

A glance around showed John all signs of alcohol had been tidied away. He shrugged and took a sip of the coke. Not that he'd gotten particularly drunk, but he hadn't been entirely sober at any point for the past thirty hours,either not since he'd come back from teaching a class and holding his usual Tuesday afternoon office hours. Office hours during which there'd been a distinct lack of students—it was that time of year—and he'd had far too much time to think.

"So, I'm guessing your great reunion wasn't so great?" DK settled himself in the chair.

John took the couch. "Not so much." He put his drink down on the empty table in front of him, turning it around so the label was facing him. "I really thought she was the one…."

"Uh-huh." DK gave him a narrow-eyed look. "So, tell me about it?"

John held out for a moment longer and then, with a shrug of acceptance, described what had happened after he'd arrived at the hotel: Aeryn's careless remark, his challenge, her confession, the things he'd said after that….

"I accused her of being behind Livvy's murder." He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. God, he'd been so angry with her.

"You really think that?" DK sounded surprised.

John began to shake his head, but before he could answer, the door buzzer sounded. DK got to his feet. "That'll be the food."

John sat back, listening to DK pay the delivery guy. He hadn't really believed the accusation at the time and he didn't believe it now. He'd just wanted to hurt Aeryn back—and maybe shake her up enough to break through that cool facade of hers and give him a real reaction he could trust.

DK dumped the food on the table between them—he'd gotten Mexican, like he always did when it was his turn to order—and began to unpack it. He raised an eyebrow in John's direction, inviting John to answer his question of earlier.

"No, not really." John accepted a taco. "I know Moya means everything to Aeryn, but Livvy was half the company. I don't just mean in terms of owning half of it but in terms of what she did. Aeryn's been struggling to replace that since Livvy died. It would make no sense for her to have killed her like that. In a moment of passion, maybe…. She's certainly capable of that." John flexed his empty hand, remembering the way Aeryn had dealt with the muggers in Munich. Then he shook his head. "But Livvy was too important to Moya's success. Besides, I think she did love Livvy. Really loved her."

"More than she loves you?" DK asked around a mouthful of food.

John looked at his taco and set it down. He wasn't hungry. He took a swig of coke instead. "Probably, yes." He shrugged. "I can't help thinking I'm just a substitute. A way to be close to Livvy again. First time we had sex, Aeryn was really upset. We'd just been talking to the police about how Livvy had died and…. Even at the time, I knew it wasn't really about me. But, God, I wanted to be with her so much, even then…."

DK ate a couple more bites of his taco, his brow furrowed. "But they weren't serious, were they, Olivia and Aeryn? The sex part, I mean. I get that they were best friends."

"Not from what Aeryn says, no." John scrubbed a hand over his face. Truth was, he wasn't sure what to believe any more—he couldn't remember Aeryn telling him any actual lies, but she'd only ever let the truth out when he'd forced it from her. He snorted a laugh. "The police and that guy from the consulate are convinced she's some kind of… black widow."

"Because of Olivia?" DK finished his taco and wiped his fingers on a paper napkin.

John shook his head. "There was some boyfriend, too, back when she first joined the Stasi. She ratted him out and got a promotion."

"Wow!" DK raised his eyebrows sharply. "But you were the one made all the running, right?"

"Right." John gave another sharp laugh. The whole black widow thing really was ridiculous. Aeryn had barely even wanted to speak to him when they'd first met. Probably because he reminded her too much of Olivia or reminded her too much that he wasn't Olivia. "I mean, Dad wasn't wrong when he said she had me all turned around, but she never tried to take advantage of that. Not when it came to business stuff." When they'd been in bed together, sure. He shivered at the memory of her hands and mouth on him, and how she'd known exactly how to get him riled up. "If anything, she bent over backward to be fair….."

"But…?" DK was eyeing John's taco hopefully.

John pushed it across the table at him, his guts still too clenched up to eat. He beat a gentle tattoo on the edge of the table with his fingertips. "But she had sex with me and Livvy and she didn't tell me about Livvy. That's weird, right?" Head still bent, he peered up at DK for reassurance.

DK was doing a good job of demolishing the second taco. "A bit," he conceded. "But, like I said, you and Olivia had the same taste in girls half the time. And…it's not as if we didn't have that time when the two of us kinda swapped girlfriends. Remember? Lisa and…?" He gave John a help-me-out-here look.

"Lori." John reached out and picked up his drink.

"Right." DK waved the end of the taco around. "It's no more weird that that."

"Yeah, but…." John tried to figure out what was really bothering him. The thought of Aeryn and Olivia together still troubled him, but that was mostly because Livvy was his little sister and the thought of her like that with anyone was somewhere he didn't want to go. No, what was getting to him was that he hadn't known. He groped for the right words to explain it to DK. "I knew about you and Lori and you knew about me and Lisa. But Aeryn didn't tell me about Livvy. That's a pretty big thing to forget to mention." He snorted. "Of course, Livvy didn't tell me about Livvy…."

DK leaned forward, trying to catch John's eye. "So you don't trust her? Aeryn?"

John was turning his coke round and round in his hands. "I trust her to do the right thing by me with Moya. And I'd put my life in her hands in a fight. But I don't trust her to tell me the truth—about her or Livvy. Not without me dragging it out of her." He looked up at DK and gave him a bitter smile. "I'd put my money or my life in her hands—but not my future, or my heart."

oOo

John sat staring at the phone on his desk, wondering if Aeryn would call him as usual. He wouldn't blame her if she didn't. He didn't much want to talk to her either. He still wasn't over either the hurt or the shame of what had gone down the previous weekend. But they still had to run Moya together, for however long it took for the insurance money to come through.

The phone rang exactly on time, though it still made him jump. He lifted the receiver. "Crichton."

"It's Aeryn."

Her curt tone told him everything he needed to know, but he still thought he ought to try. He took a deep breath. "Aeryn, about last weekend—."

"I would prefer we keep this to business." The speed and sharpness with which she interrupted him dispelled any lingering idea he might have that she was going to either forgive him for the way he'd behaved or apologize for hiding the truth from him. "The hotel told me you collected the files. Did you read them?"

"Yeah, I did." On Saturday evening, after he'd spent the day wandering round one of the London parks that would now forever be ruined with his anger and misery. But he was damned if he was going to give her any excuse to criticize his involvement in the business. Even if he wasn't as good as Olivia at that stuff and never would be. "The figures all look fine to me." There'd been pages of accounts with post-it notes in Aeryn's spiky handwriting, explaining why some costs had increased and others decreased and the source of various items of income.

"And the proposal?" The London team was outgrowing its office space and they were looking for somewhere new.

John shrugged. "I think the second option? It's a bit more expensive, but it's more flexible. We won't be committed to all that cost if we don't grow as much as we're hoping? And we can always look at it again in another six months."

"That was my thought also. I will give the go-ahead." He could hear her closing the file. "So. I think we are done now." She left the barest of pauses for him to disagree before going on, "I will—."

"Aeryn." He didn't let her finish. They weren't done. With business, maybe, but not with them. "About last weekend. I'm sorry. I said a lot of things I shouldn't have. I apologize."

There was silence on the other end of the line. He was just wondering if he should say something more when she spoke, her words stiff and clipped. "You were angry and upset. It was understandable."

He waited for her to go on, but she didn't say anything more. He rubbed his thumb across his forehead. "Now's the part where you apologize," he prompted gently.

Again a moment of silence while she considered her reply. "For what, John? I explained that I did not think what happened with Olivia was important."

"And I told you it was." He sighed. "Aeryn, if we're going to have a relationship, then we need to be honest with each other. To not keep secrets."

She snorted dismissively. "Do you wish me to list all my previous lovers?"

"No, I…." He leaned forward, resting his forehead on his hand. "But if we're going to be together—."

"You know, John, I do not think it is wise for us to be together. We are clearly not suited." There was the barest hesitation, while he was still struggling to take in her words—she'd wanted this, she'd told him she wanted this!—and then she plunged on. "And I am not comfortable discussing this at this time. You are in the office. I am in the office."

He drew in a shuddering breath, trying to drag his mind away from the memory of her telling him she wanted to be with him: while she'd still been wrapped around him, after some of the most incredible sex he'd ever had. She couldn't mean it, not really. Could she? For all he'd told DK he wasn't sure he could trust her with his future or his heart, he was suddenly aware how very much he still wanted that future, now that any hope of it was being taken away. "Then Sunday?" he croaked. "Can we talk about it Sunday?"

Another pause, before she said, very gently, "I do not think that will help."

"Aeryn, at least let's try—." He tried to keep his voice steady.

"I don't want to try, John." He could hear her voice catching, too. "This was obviously a mistake. I'm sorry. Truly. I did not intend to hurt you, but—we should not have tried. It is best we keep things professional now."

He tried to speak, to protest, but no words came out. She waited a few seconds longer and then said, "I will call you next Thursday, as usual. Goodbye, John." She hung up without giving him a chance to reply.

He stared at the phone in disbelief, before he carefully replaced the receiver. Leaning forward, he put his head in his hands. He couldn't believe she'd done that. That it was over. That she wouldn't even attempt to talk about it or fix it.

He sucked in a lungful of air, his chest tight. Maybe it was what he'd deserved after walking out on her in London. Maybe he should have gone back and tried to mend things at the time—but he'd still been so angry: with Aeryn, and with Livvy, and with himself. He'd hated the way they'd argued; and he'd hated himself for the way he'd thrown her past at her; and he'd been afraid he'd only make it worse. And now he was ready to talk, she wasn't.

Sitting back upright, he drew in a deeper breath, some of the tension leaving his body, though his heart still felt like it had been replaced by a stone. Maybe this was for the best: she'd said she wasn't much good at this stuff and, god, had she ever been right about that. Better to end it before they found out how much more they could hurt each other. Better for her to figure out now that he was just a substitute for Olivia and not what she really wanted, rather than in another six months, when he was even more deeply in love with her.

In another six months, Moya would be all hers and they'd be out of each other's hair. Then their time together would just be a mostly enjoyable memory. Yeah, that's what it'd be. He just needed to keep telling himself that.

oOo

John felt a little nervous as the time for their next Thursday call rolled around, but Aeryn wasn't nearly as cold or short with him as he'd feared she might be. She was simply brisk and business-like, much as he remembered from when they first met. Apparently, having said her piece, she'd put their brief affair behind her and moved on.

John did his best to follow her lead. Whatever else he might or might not want, and however hard it might be for him, he certainly didn't want to hurt her any more than he already had. And they did still need to work together for the next few months.

It seemed to be the right approach. It only took a couple more weeks before some of the old easiness crept back into their conversations. After a moment's hesitation, Aeryn had even followed up her by-the-numbers report on the outcomes from an exhibition the company had recently attended by sharing a couple of amusing anecdotes from the event. John had recognized it for a kind of peace offering: an attempt to be more open and to volunteer more than the bare minimum of information, without him dragging it out of her. In return, he'd provided his own account of a slightly embarrassing mishap in a lab demonstration he'd given a few weeks earlier. His heart had tightened a little at hearing her laugh again.

In between the calls, he missed her far more than he'd expected. More than when they'd been together but apart, when he'd been so sure they'd be with each other again sometime soon. He caught himself thinking of her at odd moments during the day; and at night, his body ached for her and taking care of himself was no real relief. He'd gotten a whole new course proposal and curriculum mapped out over the course of a month—something that had been on the back burner for the past year—simply to stave off the moment each evening when he'd have to return to his empty apartment.

He even dreamed of her a few times, running down endless hotel corridors. Sometimes together, escaping from whatever nameless terror was pursuing them. Sometimes following her, but never catching up, as she whisked out of sight around the next corner and the next.

It was five weeks after that first call when, with the usual information sharing out of the way, Aeryn cleared her throat and said hesitantly, "One more thing. It will soon be time for our forward planning process. To determine our goals for the next year and where we wish the company to be beyond that. Olivia always said it was very important we spend time on this, even when we had much else to do." She paused and then added in a rush, "I would very much like you to be involved."

"Me?" John sat up straighter. "I'm not sure how much help I can be."

"Moya is still half yours. It is only appropriate," she reminded him. "And… I would value your input."

"You would?" He couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice. Apart from helping introduce her to the right people at MIT, he'd always felt like he was mostly an encumbrance, needing her to explain even the simplest things. As she'd reminded him in London, he wasn't nearly so good at business as Olivia.

He could hear her smile as she answered. "Yes. You ask questions that are… very dumb. And so very smart. You make me look at things differently. Question things I would simply accept otherwise."

Like falling in love….

He shook his head, dismissing the memories of them together, and focused his mind back on business matters. "Okay. Dumb I can do." He cleared his throat. "So, what's involved?"

"Olivia had a process."

Aeryn's face, he knew, would be settling into the serious lines it always took on when she was explaining something about the business to him, her attention turned slightly inward to review what she was going to say and find the right words. He'd loved watching her in those moments, his heart beating a little faster as he saw her passion and her intelligence and her courage gathered together.

Once more, he dragged his mind away from the past and forced himself to pay attention to what she was saying now.

"She would ask each part of the business to give us financial forecasts and market predictions. Also their suggestions for what we might do next—both the sensible, little steps that are obvious and… their grand and wild ideas." He could tell she was smiling again. "And then she and I would lock ourselves in a room for a while and consider all of this and make some decisions. I was… hoping you would come back to Frankfurt for few days." The last part came out in a rush.

He leaned forward, cradling the phone between his chin and his shoulder while he instinctively pulled his diary across the desk toward him. "We can't do this by phone and email?"

She puffed out a breath. "Not so easily. It is better with whiteboards and markers…."

"And you can't do this with your senior staff?" It wasn't that he didn't want to go. It was, perhaps, that he wanted to go too much. To see her again, even if it was for business only.

"Not easily, no. We must have their input, of course, but each has his own expertise and… biases. They do not always see the big picture." She snorted quietly. "And I do not wish to spend three days playing peacemaker while they argue as to whose department deserves more money."

He laughed quietly. "Yeah, I can imagine. So when do you want to do this?" Luckily, MIT was generous with vacation allowances and unpaid leave for tenured staff, as long as it didn't disrupt teaching. But he'd used up most of his goodwill on that front on his last visit to Germany.

"It is not so very urgent, but in the next two months would be best." It sounded like she was flipping through her diary as well. "We would need three days, I think?"

"Let me see what I can do."

Six weeks later, he was making his way out of the airport terminal in Frankfurt. The place seemed less alien than on his last visit, perhaps because he wasn't struggling with the raw grief of Livvy's death or perhaps because he knew a little more about the woman he was meeting—even if he felt he didn't understand her any better now than then.

When he arrived at Moya's offices, after a quick stop at his hotel, Aeryn was already waiting for him in the conference room. She had folders and files spread out in front of her, but the way she lifted her head and watched him walk along the corridor through the glass wall, getting to her feet as he entered the room, told him she'd been keeping an eye out for him.

Dismissing the secretary who'd shown John in with a request for coffee, she held out her hand to him. He took it, aware of the tingle of electricity between them and the slight flush that colored her cheeks. She seemed as reluctant to let go as he was, almost as if she was waiting for him to step forward and kiss her cheek. He didn't dare: the thought of being that close to her made him shiver and he didn't want to run the risk of doing anything that might jeopardize the fragile ceasefire they'd negotiated in the past weeks.

He was the first to step back, clearing his throat and using his freed hand to wave at the clutter spread across the conference table. "I thought we were supposed to have done the class reading before we got here."

She rolled her eyes. "I was reviewing." She gestured him toward a chair. "You are ready to begin? Not too tired from your flight?"

"I should be good for a few hours, if you keep the coffee flowing." He settled into a seat, while she headed for the whiteboard and grabbed a marker.

Soon, the whiteboards were covered with an array of scribblings, under a variety of alphabet soup acronym headings, with arrows pointing from one list to another, and items crossed out and others squeezed in. Remembering Aeryn's comment when she'd proposed they do this, he tried to ask the dumb-smart questions—mostly why?—and even occasionally made suggestions of his own. Could those dotcoms everyone was talking about be customers? If they opened a US office, would New York and Wall Street really be the best place, or should they aim for Silicon Valley?

At last, he found himself blinking groggily at whatever Aeryn had just said. They were talking about how the bad guys were pushing the limits technically and what future countermeasures might look like. The words individually made sense, but the concept wouldn't come into focus. He yawned. "Sorry, I think I'm done for the day."

Aeryn gave him a look that seemed slightly dazed as well. She glanced at her watch. "Yes, of course. We have done well."

"Yeah." He pushed to his feet and gestured at the board. "I think there's something missing, though." Grabbing a different colored pen to the one Aeryn had been using, he stepped up to where she'd written a list under the heading products/offerings and, with a grin on his face, carefully wrote the word rockets at the bottom.

"Rockets?" She had her eyebrows raised and a disbelieving look on her face, though he sensed she was taking it only as seriously as he'd intended it.

He spread his hands, still grinning. "Hey, you have a world-renowned rocket scientist on your team now."

She stepped up next to him and drew a neat cross through the word. "I do not believe rockets are in line with our core objectives…."

She was close to him, close enough for him to be able to smell the scent of whatever shampoo she'd used, close enough for him to feel her warmth. He could tell from the way she held herself that she was as aware of him as he was of her. "I miss you," he said softly.

She closed her eyes, letting out a sigh. "I miss you too, John. But we were… not good together."

"Sometimes we were." He edged a fraction closer, his gaze moving slowly from the line of her nose to the curve of her cheek to the way her hair was tucked behind her ear. He wanted to touch her again so badly, but only if it was what she wanted.

"Not always." She snapped the lid back on to the pen she held, before she took a step back and turned to face him. She looked at him steadily and he could see the desire in her eyes, and the regret. "I think we are done." She paused for an instant and then added, "For today. I will capture what we have decided so far, ready for tomorrow."

"Yes, ma'am." He saluted her with the pen, before putting it back on the shelf underneath the whiteboard. He would have liked to invite her to have dinner with him, but he didn't think she'd accept and, truth was, he was close to crashing and wouldn't have been much company anyway.

He did manage to eat something once he got back to his hotel, before staying awake as long as possible watching the news on TV. He still woke on the early side the next morning, if later than he'd expected, and early enough to arrive back at Moya's offices before Aeryn.

They spent the morning in a series of slightly more detailed discussions with various senior members of Moya's staff: how to allocate the marketing budget; what the sales targets should be; research and development priorities. John didn't say a great deal, happy to watch Aeryn translating the decisions they'd made yesterday into more concrete plans, speaking up only now and then to give his approval or voice his concerns.

As the last of the meetings scheduled for the morning came to a close, he realized he was hungry and more than ready to get out of the confines of the conference room. "Let's go out for lunch."

"Out?" Aeryn looked up from frowning at her cell-phone, which she'd dug out of her pocket and switched back on as everyone else left the room. "I do not think we have time—."

"You've got hotdog stands, right? I've seen 'em." When she still looked doubtful, he added, "Throw me a bone here? If I don't get out of this room for a while, I'm going to start climbing the walls."

She hesitated a moment and then nodded. "Very well. Let me get my coat."

Once they'd bought their wurst, sliced up in little paper trays, with sauce and fries and disposable forks, she led him into the park that lay at the center of the business district. Skyscrapers loomed beyond the trees as they wandered along the paths while they ate. Neither of them spoke, but the silence wasn't uncomfortable. John breathed in the fresh air: so much better than sandwiches in a stuffy conference room.

Aeryn's cellphone buzzed and she juggled her lunch to pull it out of her pocket. She made a face when she saw the number on the screen and shoved it back into her jacket unanswered.

A minute later, her phone buzzed again. Again, she fished it out, took one look and put it away without answering. She caught John's eye as she glanced back up. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her what was going on, but he bit back the question. If she wanted to tell him, she'd tell him and if she didn't—it was none of his business. For all he knew, it could be her new lover or her psychiatrist or just a persistent cold caller. And he very much didn't want to wreck things, just as they were getting along so nicely, by making her think he was prying.

The phone buzzed again. This time, she ignored it. John looked around, searching for something to say that would cover the sound of the phone. "Holy crap! What is that?" The exclamation burst from him as he laid eyes on a roofless concrete structure composed of odd curves and arches. It must be some kind of sculpture, but….

"I believe it is called A House for Goethe." Aeryn gave a slight shrug. "The writer, you know?"

"Yeah." John might be a science geek through and through, but even he'd heard of Goethe. He took another look at the sculpture. "I guess the City Fathers thought they were getting their money's worth…."

Aeryn's phone was ringing again, but it was easier for them both to ignore it now. "You can walk inside it, if you like?" she offered, sounding amused.

"I'll pass." He snorted. "I don't know art, but I know what I don't like."

John gestured for them to walk on and they continued their circuit around the park as they finished up their lunch. Aeryn's phone rang once more and then fell silent.

"This was an excellent idea," she remarked, as she stuffed the empty food containers into a bin near the park exit. "I feel very… energized. I should do this more often."

"Yeah." John wasn't sure about energized, but he could at least face the thought of another three or four hours of meetings.

oOo

"Herr Professor?" The receptionist at Moya's offices looked startled as John pushed his way through the outer door. "We did not expect to see you again until tomorrow."

That had been what John had been expecting too, when he'd left an hour and a half earlier for a meeting at the US Consulate with Hendricks, who'd driven up specially from Munich to deliver an update on the progress of Olivia's murder investigation.

He scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Yeah. I need to talk to Frau Doktor Sun, if she's free."

"I will see." The secretary gave him a slightly anxious look and picked up the phone. After a couple of short conversations, with a long pause in the middle, she turned back to John. "Frau Doktor Sun asks for you to kindly wait ten minutes. She will be ready then. If you would take a seat?"

"Sure." John swung away, folding himself onto the couch that faced the reception desk and beating out a quiet tattoo on his knees as he tried to calm his nerves. With a silent huff of laughter, he remembered the previous time he'd arrived unexpectedly and asked—no, demanded—to see Aeryn. No wonder the receptionist had looked a little worried. But the last thing he wanted today was to start off on the wrong foot. Aeryn wasn't going to like what he had to say even in the best of circumstances.

He took it as a good sign that she was smiling when he was shown into her office a few minutes later. "John. I thought you had left for the day."

He closed the door behind him and leaned back against it. "So did I. But the guy from the consulate told me some things and… I wanted to let you know. That I know about them and how I found out."

She gave him a wary look. "What things?"

"He told me they've had Skorpinski under surveillance for a few weeks. Phonetaps. And he said some of the numbers he keeps calling are yours. Your cellphone. Your number at home. Here." Even though he'd rehearsed what he was going to say in the cab on the way over to the office, it still came out as more of an accusation than he'd intended. He added quickly, "He also said you don't answer and you haven't spoken to him since the first time."

She nodded silently, her lips pressed together.

He dipped his head toward the jacket pocket where she usually kept her phone. "That was him, at lunchtime, wasn't it?"

"Yes." She bit her lip. "He caught me off guard, the first time. He made me another offer for Moya. I didn't tell you because—." She hesitated.

"Because you're not going to sell to him," he finished softly for her. "I know."

She gave a slight shrug, her gaze sliding away from him. "And I didn't want you to know he was still calling in case you thought I was trying to make you feel sorry for me or worried or…." She trailed off with another shrug.

"That you were manipulating me?"

"Yes." She rolled her eyes slightly. "He started calling me when you and I…, when we were still angry with each other."

John pushed away from the door and took a couple of steps closer to her, but not so close it would make her uncomfortable. "I wish you'd felt like you could've told me what he's been up to," he said quietly. She was right that it would have worried him—because he cared about her. "But I understand why you didn't."

He'd understood something else, too, everything falling clearly into place, as Hendricks had laid out the tenuous connection between Skorpinkski and Aeryn in the windowless, drab little meeting room in the consulate. Aeryn had grown up in a world where being spied on was a way of life. Where you could never be sure what other people knew about you—and where there was a good chance they'd use that knowledge to hurt you.

He'd given Hendricks a narrow-eyed look once the other man had finished his report. "Why are you telling me this?" Seeing Hendricks raise a puzzled eyebrow, John had added, "This is part of the police investigation, right? This is evidence. So how come you're allowed to tell me about it? And why would you?"

Hendricks had neatened the pile of papers sitting on the table in front of him, not meeting John's eye. "I requested permission from the police. It's my job to protect the interests of US citizens, Professor Crichton. In your sister's case—." He'd shaken his head, leaving whatever he'd been about to say—that he'd failed to protect Olivia?—unfinished. "This was something I felt you should be made aware of. That there has been contact between Frau Doktor Sun and Herr Skorpinski."

"Contact she clearly doesn't want." John had given Hendricks a disgusted look. "You got any other of Aeryn's secrets you want to tell me about?"

Hendricks had fiddled with the papers again. "I believe we have covered everything I needed to speak to you about."

"Well, I already knew Aeryn doesn't want anything to do with Skorpinski." John had pushed to his feet. "But I didn't know he was harassing her again. So thanks for telling me that."

It had been on the tip of his tongue to thank Hendricks for helping him finally understand Aeryn and what made her tick as well. All this time, he'd been thinking he couldn't trust her not to keep secrets from him. When the truth was, she found it almost impossibly hard to trust anyone—even him, even Olivia—not to use what they knew against her. Not telling was a way of life, just as much as oversharing seemed to be the default setting for most Americans.

He'd only half paid attention to Hendricks' platitudes as they'd wound up the meeting. He'd instead been seeing the last year with fresh eyes, marveling at how much he'd managed to coax out of Aeryn and how much she'd put up with him blundering around in things he didn't understand. He'd been very aware, too, that though there likely wouldn't have been any good or easy way to bring up what he'd learned about Aeryn's past the last time he'd spoken to Hendricks, he'd chosen just about the worst possible way, by throwing it at her in the middle of an entirely unrelated argument. No wonder she hadn't wanted to keep on trying to keep their relationship alive.

Even before he'd left the consulate, he'd resolved to tell her what he'd learned as soon as he could. And now, here he was.

He drew in a breath and added quietly, "Anyway I get it now. People prying into your business, being spied on, that's… difficult for you. So I just wanted you to know I knew—about Skorpinski—and how."

She nodded. "Thank you for telling me, John. It means a lot. That you understand why I—." She wrapped her arms around herself, choking out a laugh. "We had so little privacy, back then, you know? And you couldn't trust anyone with your secrets. You learned the hard way to keep them to yourself. I knew that better than anyone, after what I did to Volker."

"Yeah, I get it now." He just wished he'd understood this a couple of months back.

She gave herself a little shake. "What else did your consulate people tell you? Did they tell you more about the investigation? If they will make arrests? The police will tell me nothing."

"A bit." He gestured toward the easy chairs, half-asking if she wanted to sit down and talk, and half inviting himself. She nodded and crossed to sink into her usual place. He followed and settled himself in the other chair. "He said the police are hoping to have enough evidence soon to begin making arrests, but they're still trying to tie everyone together."

"But Skorpinski is their main suspect?" She was twisting her hands together in her lap.

He shrugged one shoulder. "Hendricks wasn't quite that explicit about it, but putting together bits and pieces of what he said, yeah, I think the police are pretty sure Skorpinski's the one behind Olivia's death."

Aeryn leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes. John watched her, seeing the almost ever-present tension in the set of her jaw and in the way she held her shoulders, and comparing it to the happy, relaxed woman he'd held in his arms for all too brief a time during their weekend together in Cambridge. The fallout from Olivia's death wasn't over, not by a long way, but maybe some of the troubles that had hung over Aeryn's head—being a suspect herself, her guilt over being alive when Olivia was dead—would start to go away.

"Maybe we should have sold Moya after all."

Aeryn's words made him jump, lost as he was between past and present. He blinked. If there was one thing she'd made clear since he'd first learned about Skorpinski's original offer, it was that she wanted Moya in her hands, and hers alone, now Olivia was gone. "What?"

She still had her head tipped back and her eyes closed. "If we'd sold Moya to Skorpinski, Olivia would still be alive. We wouldn't have Moya, but we could have started again…."

"Maybe." He learned forward, on the edge of reaching out to cover her hands with his, before he caught himself. "But there's only one person to blame for Livvy's death, and it's not you and it's not Livvy. It's Skorpinski. And the police will get him soon. I'm sure of it."

oOo

John had returned to his hotel soon afterward, holding himself back from asking Aeryn to have dinner with him. If the past few months had taught him anything, it was to proceed with caution: their newly mended friendship was still too fragile to risk.

They'd completed the remaining meetings the following morning and he'd flown back late afternoon. His body clock was well and truly scrambled by the time he landed and gained back the six hours he'd lost a few days earlier. The weekend and the start of the following week were something of a blur while he struggled to get his sleep back to a normal routine, so he wasn't best pleased to be woken on Tuesday a half an hour before his usual alarm by someone persistently calling his home phone number at five minute intervals.

The fourth time it started up, he managed to stumble out of bed and blearily answer it.

"Professor Crichton? This is Allen Hendricks of the consulate in Munich." Hendricks sounded annoyingly chirpy and awake, which wasn't surprising, as he had six hours head start on John. "I know it's still early where you are, but I was hoping to catch you before you left for work."

"Something's happened?" John staggered across to the couch and flopped down.

"Yes. I thought you'd like to know. The police have arrested three people in connection with your sister's murder. The judge hasn't set a trial date yet, but given the extent of the investigation already carried out and the strength of the evidence they have, I shouldn't anticipate it will be too long."

"That's great." John tried to wrap his head around the unexpected news. "That's really great. One of them's Skorpinski, I hope." Even as he asked the question, the horrifying notion that Aeryn might have been arrested flashed across his mind.

"Yes." John could almost hear Hendricks' resigned shrug as he acknowledged John had been right all along. "The other two are believed to be professional hit men. Former Stasi agents. The police have them on tape discussing carrying out the sabotage on your sister's car. They both confirmed that Skorpinski had hired them once the police presented evidence of contact."

John closed his eyes and breathed out a sigh of relief. Aeryn would be so pleased to hear the news: to know that there would be justice for Livvy at last and that Moya would be safe. "Does Aeryn—Frau Doktor Sun—know?"

Hendricks coughed apologetically. "I'm afraid I don't know. I should imagine that the police will formally notify her soon that she is no longer a suspect, but beyond that…."

John nodded. He wasn't going to be sorry if it turned out he was the one to break the news to her. Should he try calling her as soon as he got off the phone with Hendricks? But he didn't know what her schedule was for today. Maybe he should email her and ask her to call him later. Maybe he should get some coffee first, before—.

He was aware Hendricks was still talking. "—back to Germany to complete some legal formalities. Then—."

"Wait." John scrubbed his hand across his forehead. "You need me to come back to Germany?" He bit back the thought that this would have all been so much less trouble if they'd bothered to arrest Skorpinski the previous week. "When?"

"It will depend a little on when the trial is scheduled, but it isn't too urgent. Within the next two or three weeks, perhaps?"

Great. He'd just manage to get rid of his current jetlag in time to acquire some more. He blinked a few times to try and wake himself up a little. "Look, I've only just got out of bed and I'm not really up to making any arrangements right now. Could I call you back later?"

"Of course. I will be here for another four hours today." Hendricks gave John his number—after giving John time to find a pen and paper among the mess on the dining table—and hung up.

John stared at the note for a moment, before he tucked it away in his wallet, glad he had some proof the last five minutes had actually happened. He'd been waiting for this moment for so long, for Livvy's death to finally be solved and her murderers arrested, that it didn't seem entirely real.

He carried on toward the kitchen and the coffee pot, deciding to email Aeryn as soon as he got into work, to fix up a time when they could speak. Meanwhile, Dad and Susan would want to be updated as well.

He called Dad first, catching his father just as he was sitting down to breakfast. Once he'd broken the news, he had to explain just who Skorpinski was and why he'd wanted Olivia dead.

"So I was right." His father gave a derisive sniff. "It's all because of that Aeryn woman."

"No, Dad, it's not." It was too early and John had drunktoo little coffee for him to be patient. "This is on Skorpinski, pure and simple. Aeryn's done nothing wrong. And maybe you should remember that Aeryn was Livvy's friend. Mine, too."

"I'd heard." Only his father could imbue two syllables with so much disapproval.

John shook his head, not about to make a parade of his feelings to justify them to his father—especially as he wasn't sure where he and Aeryn stood right now and he really didn't want to give his father any more ammunition when it came to telling him Aeryn was all wrong. "Let's just be grateful they caught the bad guys, okay? For Livvy's sake?"

There was a few seconds of stony silence and then his father puffed out a breath. "Sure, son. You phoned Susan yet?"

"Just about to." John was glad of the excuse to cut things short. "I'll call you again when I know more."

"You do that." His father hesitated for a fraction and then added in a slightly grudging tone, "And maybe when all this is over, you can bring Aeryn to meet us again. She obviously meant a lot to Livvy."

John sat up straighter, taken aback by his father's unexpected change of heart. Maybe he'd gotten his point across after all. "Yeah. I'll—I'll talk to her about that." He wasn't sure how Aeryn would take the suggestion, but he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

"Good. That's good." There was another awkward pause, before his father cleared his throat. "Take care of yourself."

"You too, Dad." John hung up, feeling like his already raw emotions had been raked over a fresh set of hot coals.

Drawing in a deep breath, he dialed again. The call to Susan was a lot more straightforward, though it was interrupted a couple of times by Bobby in the background demanding to speak to Uncle John and Susan telling him to sit down and eat his breakfast. She seemed quietly pleased at the news, but John sensed she didn't want to ask more questions in front of Bobby. He promised to call her back in the evening, when Bobby was in bed.

Once he got to work, he tracked DK down in the lab to share the news. He also had a word with his less-than-delighted department head, warning him that he would have to make yet another trip to Germany, before speaking to Hendricks again to arrange a date for the return visit. They managed to find a Friday afternoon that would suit everyone involved and would allow John to keep to his teaching commitments and be back in the office for Monday morning, though he'd have to skip a seminar he'd hoped to attend.

It was the middle of the afternoon by the time he spoke to Aeryn.

"John? You said in your email that you had good news from the police?" He could hear the hope in her voice.

"Yeah. I don't know if they've told you yet, but they arrested Skorpinski for Olivia's murder. He and the couple of goons he paid to do it." There was a long silence at the other end of the phone, though he could hear her breathing. "Aeryn?"

"They really—?" She let out a sharp breath. "I thought they'd never—."

He laughed wryly. "Me neither. And there's more good news. From what Hendricks said, they should soon be letting you know officially that you're off the hook."

"Oh!" She sucked in a breath. Then there was a sudden clatter, almost as if she'd dropped the phone, though he could still hear her gulping in air noisily.

"Aeryn?" He pressed the phone more tightly against his ear, as if that would help him get physically closer. "Aeryn?"

She went on gasping for a few seconds longer, before another couple of small thumps signaled she'd picked the phone up again. "Sorry." Her voice was ragged and he realized she must have been crying, or close to it. "It's just…."

"Yeah." His own throat had closed up and he desperately wished he was with her and could hold her and feel her arms around him in return. "It's been a while coming, huh?"

"Tell me everything!" She was eager now, if still hoarse.

He shook his head. "Not much more to tell. They still need to schedule a date for the trial, but Hendricks thinks it won't be long. And I need to come back to Germany in a few weeks to sort out some paperwork."

"Will I see you while you're here?"

The question took him by surprise. That she'd want to see him again so soon. "I don't know. I need to go to Munich for this. And I still need to fix up my flights. And I promised my boss I wouldn't take any more time off from work than absolutely necessary."

"Yes, of course."

There was an edge of disappointment to her words that made him say, a little rashly, "I'd like to…."

She didn't reply for a few seconds, before she said softly, "I'd like that too." She cleared her throat. "So, let me know what arrangements you make. And thank you for making sure I knew, about the arrests."

His mouth curved into a wry smile. It had never crossed his mind not to tell her, even before Dad and Susan. "You're welcome."

There was another long pause, before she drew in a deep breath. "Well, goodbye for now, John."

"Yeah. 'Bye." He listened to the line go dead, before slowly hanging up himself. Maybe, if he flew back Sunday, there'd be time for him to go up to Frankfurt, or for her to come down to Munich. He should start looking into that right now.

oOo

John signed the last of the forms and pushed them back across the desk to the official from the court in Munich. He glanced at Hendricks, sitting next to him. "Is that it?"

Hendricks relayed the question to the official, who was checking through the forms and assigning them to different folders. She gave a distracted nod and said something in reply. Hendricks translated: "There's some paperwork for you to take away, but you've done everything that needs to be done at this stage, yes."

The official opened another folder and began placing a fresh stack of documents on the table in front of John, waiting for Hendricks to provide a translation of her explanation for each one after she put it down. "This is a notification of the trial date and the list of witnesses. This explains the procedure for you as the next of kin to participate as an auxiliary prosecutor in the trial if you wish. Your lawyer should be familiar with the process." Hendricks was sounding bored, and John wondered how many times he'd done this before. "This provides a summary of the circumstances of your sister's death, which should satisfy any parties involved in settling your sister's estate. The IRS, county records for property, life insurance, retirement plan—."

"Wait." John put his hand out to stop the official from adding another document to the pile. The only insurance policy he was aware of was the one Aeryn held, the one that was supposed to give her the money to buy Olivia's half of Moya. The one the insurance company had so far refused to pay out on, keeping Aeryn tied to John for the past year. Was this the piece of paper that would finally allow the money to be released and set them free of each other? "Is that the thing Frau Doktor Sun needs to get the insurance company to pay out?" He reckoned Hendricks would have a clear enough memory of the police's suspicions about Aeryn—suspicions Hendricks had evidently shared—to know what John was talking about.

"The—?" Hendricks' puzzled expression quickly cleared. "Yes, I should imagine so."

"So, will the court be sending her a copy directly, or do I need to give her one myself?" He should be glad that they were finally going to be able to get everything settled properly, but he felt strangely reluctant now it came to it.

Hendricks directed the question at the official, but her mouth was already shaping itself into a bitterly amused line even before he finished his translation. Hendricks listened to her reply and then turned back to John. "Frau Doktor Sun's lawyers requested a copy be couriered to them the day after the trial date was set."

John tried not to feel too hurt that Aeryn was in such a hurry to move things along. It was only good business practice, after all, to set the next stage in motion as soon as possible. The insurance company had already dragged its heels for long enough.

Hendricks, giving the court official a nod to show she could lay down the final document, remarked absently. "I should imagine she has the money by now, or at least confirmation it will be paid, unless the insurers are being exceptionally difficult."

"Already?" John frowned at him.

"Yes, I should think so." Hendricks directed his attention back to the official, who rattled off another incomprehensible spiel in German. Hendricks did the translation, but John wasn't listening. Why hadn't Aeryn told him she'd gotten the document that would release the insurance money? Even if she hadn't received the money yet, she must have a clearer idea now when it would be coming. But they'd spoken three times on the phone in the two weeks since he'd let her know the trial date, and exchanged a half dozen emails, and she hadn't said a word.

John absently gathered the papers together, shook the official's hand and let Hendricks guide him out of the meeting room, all the time trying to figure out why Aeryn hadn't mentioned that she'd soon be able to buy his share of Moya. It was almost as if….

On the sidewalk outside, Hendricks was asking whether John would be back for the trial.

"I'm not sure." He didn't feel sure of anything. Except one thing: he needed to talk to Aeryn. He needed to know.

He shifted the briefcase with the papers into his other hand and grabbed Hendricks' sleeve. "What's the best way to get to Frankfurt from here?"

Hendricks raised his eyebrows. "If you don't have a car? You could fly, I suppose, but it's probably quicker and cheaper by train. There's a high-speed service takes three hours, maybe four."

"Where's the station?" John looked around, hoping to spot a sign or maybe even the entrance to the station itself.

"About ten minutes' walk that way." Hendricks pointed along the street.

"Okay. Thanks." John let go of Hendricks' arm and took a few steps in the direction Hendricks had indicated, before swinging back round. He gestured with the briefcase. "Oh, and thanks for all your help with this. I'll let you know about the trial."

"Sure." Hendricks seemed bemused, but John didn't give him any further thought as he hurried away.

Just over half an hour later, he was rattling through the outskirts of Munich on a fast train to Frankfurt. Sinking back into his seat, he drew breath for the first time since Hendricks had dropped the news on him that Aeryn might have already received the insurance payout.

What the hell am I doing? He stared out at the countryside flashing past in the dusk. Here he was, with nothing on him but the briefcase he'd taken to the meeting. Maybe he should get off at the next station—it was less than an hour away—and head back to Munich. He could call Aeryn from his hotel, pick up some clothes and arrange to meet her properly.

No. He was already on the train. Might as well carry on to Frankfurt. At least he knew she'd be there. They'd discussed during their last call whether there'd be time for them to meet before he had to fly back on Sunday, but he hadn't been certain enough the legalities would be over and done with on Friday to make any definite arrangements. She promised she'd stick around in case he could make it.

Well, he could still call her and let her know he was on his way. He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket—only to discover that, as was all too often the case in Germany, the screen was telling him there was No Signal. He snorted to himself as he realized the battery was almost flat as well. So much for that idea.

Putting the phone away, he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, trying to relax, willing the train to go even faster and the minutes to pass more quickly. Trying not to think about what he'd do if Aeryn's answer wasn't the one he was hoping for.

Despite his best efforts, the next three hours dragged, but he finally found himself in the back of a cab, tapping his foot impatiently as it wound its way slowly through what seemed like a ridiculous amount of traffic for this late on a Friday evening. At last they drew up outside Aeryn's place. He'd reckoned it was his best choice this late in the evening: if she wasn't home yet, she soon would be.

He located the buzzer for her apartment and pressed it. It seemed forever before she answered with a wary, "Yes?"

"Aeryn, it's John."

There was a static-filled silence before an incredulous: "You're downstairs?"

"Yeah." Another silence. He leaned closer. "Are you going to let me in?"

Another pause and then he heard the door click open. He swung away and quickly pushed at it, darting inside. Riding up in the elevator, he tried to breathe slowly and calm his racing pulse. He couldn't tell from the way she'd answered the door if she was pleased or angry, but he was recalling that she didn't much like surprises.

She was waiting at the open door to her apartment, her expression more confused than anything else.

"Hi," he croaked, lifting his hand in an awkward wave.

"I wasn't expecting you." She sounded bewildered rather than irritated or pleased. "Did you call?"

"No. Uh, my phone wasn't working." He took a step closer, his heart thumping in his chest, unable to take his eyes off her. "Can I come in?"

She gave herself a little shake, as if coming out of daydream, and took a step back. "Of course. Shoes, please."

He remembered that from the last time he'd been here. By the time he'd shut the door behind him and changed his footwear, she'd disappeared down the hallway. He found her in the main room, standing by the kitchen counter. A lamp cast a circle of light over one of the couches and her laptop and a scatter of papers sat on the coffee table. The rest of the room was in darkness apart from a couple of spotlights in the kitchen. In the half light, it was hard to read her expression, but she seemed to have composed herself a little.

"Why are you here, John?"

He took a couple of steps forward and put his briefcase down on the counter, next to Aeryn's laptop case and a copy of a folded newspaper that, from what he could see of the name, he vaguely recalled was the German equivalent of the Wall Street Journal. "I met with the people from the court in Munich today. They told me they sent you the document you needed to get the insurance company to release the money for Olivia's share of Moya."

She straightened a little, but didn't say anything. He took another step toward her, close enough now to be able to reach out and touch her. "I was wondering why you didn't tell me. Why we haven't been discussing the arrangements for the sale."

She bit her lip, her expression turning anxious. The silence dragged on, until finally she whispered, "Because I don't want you to sell your share to me."

He stared back at her, hardly daring to breathe. Hardly daring to believe that he might be right. About what she really wanted.

Maybe she mistook his silence for something else, because she gave a slight shrug and said in a brisk, business-like tone, her gaze sliding away. "If you do want to sell, I will buy, of course. But…."

"You don't want me to sell?" he finished softly, scarcely able to get the words out around the lump in his throat. "You want me to go on running Moya with you?"

She brought his gaze back up to meet his and nodded. "Yes."

"Why?" He edged closer, still not touching her but near enough now that he knew she would have instinctively taken a step back if she didn't want him there.

She swallowed. "Because I don't think I can do this alone. Because I don't want to." Her voice trembled slightly. "Because you may not be able to do everything Olivia did, but you can do enough. More than enough. Because we work well together. Because—." She stopped. Her eyes were wide and dark and a little fearful.

"Because?" he prompted, inching still closer, breathing in her scent. Wanting to touch her, to take her in his arms, so much, and yet afraid, after all that had happened between them, that he was still misreading her and that one careless word or wrong gesture would ruin everything.

She let her gaze slide away from his, but he didn't mind, knowing how hard this must be for her to say out loud. "Because I want you in my life still," she whispered. "Because I don't just want to share Moya with you. I want to share my future. My life. Because I want to try—." Her voice cracked a little.

He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, his chest suddenly tight. Yet they'd been here before and it had ended badly—because he'd been too much of a fool and she'd been too much afraid—and he didn't know if he could go through that again. "Why?" he croaked. "Why d'you change your mind?"

She was the one to lean closer this time. He could feel the warmth of her body and the touch of her breath on his cheek as she gave her answer. "Because you understood. Because I'm no good at this and—you understand. I know it won't be easy. I know we have to find a way, when I am in Frankfurt and you are in Cambridge, and when you are you and I am me…."

No, it wouldn't be easy. It had been so easy to fall in love that neither of them had appreciated quite how hard it would be to stay that way. But they knew now, and that made all the difference.

"I could take a sabbatical," he suggested. He loved his work and he knew she wouldn't ask him to give it up for her, any more than he'd ask her to give up Moya. But there were options. "Get a visiting professorship. You could open that office on the East Coast. Or, you know, we could use the insurance money and buy a really fast jet…."

She snorted a laugh. He pulled back far enough to be able to meet her gaze again. Her expression was still tense, but she was starting to smile. "We'll figure it out," he promised her.

She nodded. "And I sometimes we'll fight, and that's part of it, too. And sometimes I'll be right, and sometimes you'll be right, and sometimes neither of us will be. And it'll be hard and scary, and I'll have to talk about things…."

"Like we're talking now?" he pointed out gently.

She gave another hiccuping laugh. "Yes. Like this. But I want to try."

Her expression was so serious and afraid, and at the same time so hopeful and expectant, that she seemed more beautiful to him than ever. It took everything he had to stop himself from sweeping her into his arms right then and kissing her, losing himself in her. But they weren't done talking. Not if she'd meant what she said about wanting to share her life with him.

"If we're going to do this…? If we're really gonna get serious…?" He hesitated, afraid that what he was about to say was too much, even now, even after all they'd already said and done. She gave him a nod of encouragement, and he gathered up his courage, because he wouldn't be living up to the promises they were making if he didn't say this right here and now. "You know I want kids, right?"

She stiffened a fraction, though he sensed it was more from surprise than reluctance. Then her expression softened. "I know. And you know I have not wanted children enough to make a place for them in my life yet. But if you want that, then… yes, I want that, too. Your child." Her mouth curved into a smile. "Our child. Yes." The smile turned wry. "Not straight away, of course. We must… how did you put it? Figure out how to make it all happen?"

He leaned closer, his lips almost not quite brushing her cheek as he whispered, "Oh, I think we know how to make that happen…."

He felt a shiver run through her, even as she turned her head away and said, with only an edge of impatience, "You know what I mean…."

He drew in a deep breath, reveling in her scent and her warmth and yet still holding himself back. Because, yes, he knew what she meant. They had to figure out the reality of their own complicated lives, half a world, apart before they could begin to think about bringing another life into the picture. Even so…. "Maybe we can, you know, practice how to make it happen…?" he offered with a grin.

She turned back toward him, her eyes dancing as they met his. "Maybe."

She leaned closer, her lips ready for his, but there was something else he needed to do. This wasn't the way he would've imagined it, if he'd let himself dare plan for it beyond a vague hope that, one day, the right moment would come. But now was exactly the right moment; he was sure of it, even if he was missing the key ingredient.

"Wait," he murmured. "There's something else. There's… this ring." He huffed a laugh. "Which I don't have on me. But it belonged to my Mom. And she left it to Livvy, and Livvy left it to me, and… and, for a while now, I've wanted to give it to you. It's got these three diamonds and—."

She was nodding. "I know. Olivia showed me once."

"Okay." He drew in a deep breath. "So, that ring. That I want to give to you. That I want you to accept. Not because we're saying that in a year, or two years, or whenever, that we're going to, you know, do that thing people do with the big party and the cake and the speeches. But to remind us that from now on, we're going to do something right now."

Her gaze was fixed intently on him and she gave him the slightest of nods to encourage him as he stumbled through his explanation.

He took another deep breath. "We're going to try to make this work. Really, really try. For better, for worse. For richer, for poorer. In sickness and in health. No matter how scary it gets. No matter what we find out. No matter how dumb the other one sometimes is."

She was trembling, but her face was lit with such happiness that he felt his own heart would burst.

He swallowed. "So, you know, if I had the ring…."

"Will this do?" She held up a shaking hand and he saw that while he'd been talking—too intent on trying to get across what he really wanted to say and too busy watching her reaction to notice—she'd torn a piece off the newspaper and twisted it into a ring. "For now?"

He nodded, taking it from her. He groped for her left hand. "Will you marry me?"

She nodded wordlessly, while her face crumpled with joy, before she managed to get out a hoarse, "Yes."

He nodded back at her, scarcely able to breathe. His own hands shaking, he carefully slid the ring of paper on to her finger. Both of them looked at it for a moment and then they were in each others arms, his lips on hers at last in a sweet and passionate and triumphant kiss.

This is just the beginning….

oOo