Kim winced at the ugly harshness of the words as they fell from Kerry's lips, winced still more that they were own hurled back at her. "You'd rather I lie?"

"You were doing a fairly good job of it until just now."

"You're saying you don't care if I--" She could bring herself to use the word again.

"I don't care if you fuck Abby Lockhart every day for the next six months if it will get her out of your system," Kerry interrupted, apparently having no similar compunction about her word usage. "And give you an honest shot at coming back to me." She paused, her eyes fixed on Kim in mute outrage before shaking her head. "You're not the only one who doesn't want to do this civilized bunker thing anymore."

Then don't...

The obvious answer hovered in the air between them... and Kerry was astonished when, instead of invoking it, Kim only shook her head exhaustedly. "I love you, Kerry." She stuffed her hands into the pockets of the baggy khaki trousers that had been her only cover from the glass shards raining around her shoulders. "I don't know why this is so hard. If I could make it easier..." Slim, broad shoulders shrugged helplessly.

"That what you want?"

"What I want isn't possible."

"What's that?"

"Everything," she answered simply. "It's completely self-absorbed and in contradiction of every single moment of the way I have lived my life for the last thirty-odd years. But there you have it."

"The truth at last."

"Not exactly a big secret. At least to anybody but me. But it's always been so easy." Kim cocked her head. "Letting go of the past. Stepping into the present. Thinking about tomorrow." A mirthless smile. "Rainbows and things. Such like that."

Kerry finished the slug of liquor in her glass, and only her baser instincts were pleased when she noticed Kim's head rearing back uneasily. "When did it stop being about bleeding?" she asked without preamble.

The question rippled through the air, and Kim absorbed it with a slight roll of her shoulders. "I'm not sure," she answered hesitantly. "Maybe when you told her to take care of me as best she could."

"This is my fault?"

"That's the second time you've said that about Abby and me."

This time Kerry did flinch at the invocation of the nurse's name. Hearing it on Kim's lips, seeing it in the unconscious spark in her eyes. "Maybe it's just my way of making it about me when it really isn't."

"I've got to stop leaving my APA journals lying around," Kim snickered.

"I thought it was particularly astute of me."

Kim rubbed her eyes wearily and shrugged. "You're right, Kerry. What I feel for Abby isn't. It never was."

"I hate that you reached for her. That you're still doing it. Even though we're... trying. In spite of the fact that we're trying." She stared intently at the lean figure of the woman she had so recently come to love. "The question is, can you stop?"

"Reaching for her."

"You haven't so far. The roof..." Kerry studied her lover darkly. "I'm getting the feeling you don't want to."

"I think I just admitted to as much."

"Which brings us back to my question."

"You suggesting I'm some sort of addict?"

"Interesting analogy."

"Ironic really. Considering her own history."

"Come again?"

Kim looked puzzled. "You didn't know..." Her voice trailed off. "Shit..."

"Abby's in recovery?"

"Years now. Nothing you need be worried about."

"As the ED Chief."

"Exactly."

"I'd hardly think I'm speaking in that capacity right now."

"Nonetheless..."

"You don't want her thinking you shared her bedroom secrets."

Pale blue eyes flashed violently. "It's not a bedroom secret. But it was something told to me in confidence. And I think you'd know I respect those. Especially since I let respecting yours nearly screw me out of a job."

Another glass shattered, but this time not anywhere near Kim's head. Kerry stared down in astonishment at the shards of glass littering the kitchen counter.

"Kerry..." Kim started towards to, but a short jerk of Kerry's head backed her off.