She let herself in. What a different reception she'd received tonight. Protected, confident... they treated her with respect and looked at her in curiosity. The desk clerks jumped to help her find a key, check her mailbox. Jake solicitously pressed elevator buttons for her, fended off paparazzi. He said good night companionably.

The TV was on in the main room, and again in the first bedroom. Images danced on the white walls. She deposited the cloak on the couch, saw Danny's still form lying there and felt the overwhelming feeling of relief come over her at sight of him. A miracle, every time she saw him, every time she came home to him, he was hers, a piece of life, and love. She knew she was still basking in the shared moments with Blaze back at his condo. The stillness of no current, and aftermath of a disastrous day. She kicked off her heels, pulled the clips out of her hair, it was messy from Blaze's attention. She smiled in memory. Wow! What had possessed her to allow that? She sat down in the comfy chair in the vibrant darkness. The mute had been pushed on the TV. She leaned back. Hmmm...

Wacky. That was a good descriptive word. Unbelievable. It seemed like a different day. This morning, was it just this morning? She'd left dad's so early... she'd attempted to travel alone, manage alone. Did she constantly forget who she was? George... the eager ruddy face swam in her vision. He'd helped her.... Been kind... and then something had changed, his face had changed at dinner after a couple of drinks....a feeling of distaste shuddered through her.

Arnest Fillinger....

A feeling of nausea coursed into her, and the reality of her condition also forced its way into her mind. Don't go here!

She forced herself to imagine the beautiful mountains in Montana, the snow-capped peaks, the dark green of the trees, the red of rock and gray of cloud. Breathe!

Hands, warm and familiar gripped her shoulders, squeezed. Massage, relief, again. Jules.

"How was your evening, madam?"

"Weird." She replied, unfazed, baring her neck to him by leaning forward. Julian climbed on the back of the chair and put his feet alongside her rump, balancing on the edge, while he dug his thumbs into her tense muscles.

"In what way?"

"George turned out to be a pervert."

"He's a drunk. It's a well-known fact."

"One that apparently escaped my attention."

"Naturally, you don't see the base in people."

"I ditched him."

"You were out pretty late to have ditched him."

"I left with Blaze Phelps."

"The actor? Young, handsome, big into women and partying?"

"Talented musician, Hollywood darling, yeah, the Blaze Phelps."

"And?"

"So, we hung out, like at his place for.... I don't know.... Hours. And we played, you know, jammed.... And then we decided to hang out a bit tomorrow."

Julian laughed. It was his, are you serious? laugh, and it made her laugh as well. Impulsive... she was so impulsive, and she never saw the bad or the... what was his word? Base... in people.

"He's after one thing." Julian said.

"Not." She disagreed, grabbing his hands and stilling them. Julian pushed past her, ran his hands down her shoulders, across her chest and leaned over her neck to whisper in her ear. "Don't be naïve."

"I am not being naïve." That stung. "We jammed. He can hear the music."

Julian wobbled his head back and forth as if to say he was digesting that information. "That's an improvement." He said. "And a surprise. It explains your attraction to him."

"I won't lie, he's quite attractive, but we're not going to have that kind of relationship."

"Why not?" Julian queried, kissing her neck then leaning back a little to resume his ministrations. "You're free, Trace. You're not glued to anyone's side."

"Jules." She said, and there was warning in her voice.

"What Trace?"

"Jules, I am glued... I- I told you about...."

"No, you haven't.... tell me."

That was true, she hadn't told him, because he'd been wrapped up in himself for the past several months, him and Bridget both. They hadn't shared the darkness, or what lived in it. How funny that she could fall back into her life feelings with him and not remember that he hadn't been there for her, or she him since Raine's death. It was as if nothing was missing when time really was.

"I- I have feelings for somebody."

"Okay?"

"I have always...." Why would this be hard then, telling Jules about Richard? She shouldn't feel strange about this. Jules knew that Richard loved her, he'd been around when Richard had first come into the picture.

"Trace?"

"It's Richard."

"Richard Mann." He said the name as if it were a bug on the ground. Could it have been possible for her to sense this was coming?

"What's wrong with you?" she gasped and leaned away from him, his hands fell down.

"The Richard Mann I know is.... A selfish prick." Julian said.

Tracy got up and turned on him. "He's changed." She said vehemently.

Julian bared his hands to her. "I'm not saying he hasn't, Trace."

"You're saying something.... like he's bad or something."

"You tend to pick bad boys."

She gasped again. "I do not! Raine was anything but a bad boy!"

"Raine was an... anomaly."

She felt a rush of tears, that he would disparage her choice... she charged into the bathroom and slammed the door, locking it. She stared at herself in the too bright mirrors. Her hair was wild, her make up old, her color heightened, her mouth a smear of lipstick and kisses. Ahhhhhh!

"Trace?" His whisper and small knock attested to his desire to calm her down, not do this tonight. She flung the door open and braced herself against the wall, one arm up, the other clenched in a fist.

"What?" she hissed.

"I think I'm just a little jealous."

"Bull." She said disagreeably.

"He's my friend. I feel like I introduced you."

"You didn't. I met him with Austin."

"In the last couple of years, you've... you've shared so much with him. It's entirely possible that you've fallen in love with him, and to be perfectly honest..."

"Yes? Let's be perfectly honest." She prompted.

"He's a much better match for you than Raine was. He fits with you, he's strong where you're weak, he's good where you're bad and bad where you're good. And he wants you. He puts you first. He really loves you. And...." He sighed. "I can't help but feel a little jealous."

She shook her head. "Jealous." She repeated numbly.

He hung his head. "You know how I feel about you."

"I'm your... sister. I'm your.... I don't know what we are. We're...." And she flung herself into his arms and cried.

"What's this all about?" Julian caught her and held her, bewildered at this sudden turn of events.

"You can't not like him. You have to like him." She sobbed.

"Baby, you are one exhausted little girl."

"Stop it, Jules, I am not a little..." Hiccup, "Little girl!"

He laughed. "Do I have to carry you to bed?"

"No! Just let me go. I wa-want to go to bed."

"You need to go to bed!"

"I'm really messed up today!"

"Yeah, you've had quite a day!

"Stop patronizing me! Jerk!"

"Okay, Trace. Here. Let me unzip you." He turned her and she held her hair out of the way so he could help her out of her dress.

"Where's the girls?" she hiccupped again.

"Right over there, see the two little cribs, right here in your room." She walked, him holding her dress, and trying to unfasten it, to the cribs to stare at the two little babies. Melia was on her stomach, curled into a ball in the corner of the crib, her pacifier in her mouth. Megan was sprawled in the center of the crib, on her back, one leg out of her sleeper, no pacifier, fretfully dreaming. Tracy felt herself, out of control, acting like a child, reacting to everything, reverting to earlier, less adult stages of her life. It was Jules, she thought, his presence. She reverted.

It was hard to separate this day from days of touring and acting.... Nothing seemed real right then. She needed to sleep. She turned as he let go of the dress, and slipped out of it. Her luggage had been unpacked, a robe was laid out for her. She picked it up and slipped her arms into it. Julian lifted her hair to the outside. Tracy sat on the edge of the bed staring at the two cribs.

Julian laid down on the bed where it was obvious by the spread of the pillows, and the turned down covers that he had already been laying. He used the remote to turn off the soundless TV, plunging them into hotel room darkness. "Are you okay?" he asked her.

"I am." She stated.

"Are you ready to sleep?"

"No, but I'll make myself."

"Okay, well, good night." He turned on his side and put one arm up under the pillow, crunching it under his head. Tracy sat there.

Finally, she lay down. "I'm sorry Jules."

"Hmm?"

"I said I'm sorry for acting like a freak."

"You're not a freak."

"Whatever. I am one, but that's neither here nor there."

He didn't answer and for a brief second, she thought she heard that deep even breathing of someone falling asleep. She rolled onto her side facing his back. Seconds later she was drawing little pictures on his t-shirt clad back.

"That tickles." He muttered and shivered.

"Jules, I don't want to fight with you." He turned half way toward her and reached for her, she took his hand.

"We're not fighting, are we? We're trying to sleep?"

Tracy swallowed. "Yeah." She withdrew her hand and turned over completely to her side of the bed and pulled the covers up under her chin staring into the darkness, where she could barely make out the slight glints off the veneer of the two cribs.

What would Raine say about her still sleeping in the same bed as Julian? And for once she asked herself.... What would Richard think? Well, Raine wouldn't have approved. Richard? Well, he would have.... Understood. He was more likely to understand the pain of her childhood, the aloneness of touring, and being away from home and family, even if that home and family were wracked with insecurity and abuse.

What did Julian think? She started to turn back toward him and then stopped. Julian was a grown man. Raine had told her that no grown man was immune to the hormones that women elicited. She swallowed hard, blinking at the sudden rush of unshed tears. For once realizing how much she took Jules for granted. She just expected him to be there for her. Hadn't she always been there for him? Didn't she have the right to expect that?

No, a saner self-argued, you were children. You have a shared childhood. But now you are adults, and you've been married and had children of your own, and Jules has been married, both of you understand the workings of your bodies. How can he be lying there without...? She wanted to get up, go in the living room, curl up by Danny, and stop torturing Julian, if that's what she was doing.

But she hadn't asked him to stay. It was simply assumed... she thought, taken for granted. It would hurt his feelings if she asked him to leave or if she got up and left. Wouldn't it?

They hadn't slept together in recently, she reminded herself as if she were somehow more mature in the past than now.

She lay very still, thinking about the day, the crazy, horrible, mixed up day, and eventually, lying perfectly still, she drifted into an exhausted slumber.

And Julian did too.

******