“Sometimes.” She wanted to say that love gave her strength, especially during a time like this, but she was afraid to even say the word while she was looking at him.

He sat down slowly beside her. “When did you get to know me so well?”

“It’s a small office.”

“That’s not it. No one else knows me like you do.” He sighed and leaned back. “I did put her in danger.”

“She wouldn’t have it any other way,” she conceded. “We both know that.”

“I know, but . . .”

When he let his sentence trail off, she looked at him. “Do you love her?”

He didn’t respond at all, just sat there, leaning back, with his eyes closed.

She couldn’t stand it. Now that she’d finally dared to ask the question, she wanted it answered. “Johnny?”

He reached over for her, put an arm around her shoulder, and drew her to him. She sank into the comfort he offered. It felt as natural as breathing being beside him like this, though she knew how dangerous that feeling was.

There, saying nothing more, they sat together through the long, empty hours of the night. Waiting.

________

Tully came awake slowly, taking stock of her surroundings: white acoustic-tile ceiling, bars of fluorescent lighting, silver rails on her bed, and a tray beside her.

Memories trickled into her consciousness: Beacon Hill. The mini-mart. She remembered the gun being pointed at her. And the pain.

“You’ll do anything to get attention, won’t you?” Kate stood by the door, wearing a pair of baggy UW sweatpants and an old Greek Week T-shirt. As she approached the bed, tears filled her eyes. She wiped them away impatiently. “Damn. I swore I wouldn’t cry.”

“Thank God you’re here.” Tully hit the button on her bed control until she was sitting up

“Of course I’m here, you idiot. Everyone is here. Chad, Mutt, Mom, Dad. Johnny. He and my dad have been playing cards for hours and talking about the news. Mom has made at least two new afghans. We’ve been so worried.”

“Was I good?”

Kate laughed at that even as tears spilled down her cheeks. “That would be your first question. Johnny said you kicked Jessica Savitch’s ass.”

“I wonder if 60 Minutes will want to interview me.”

Kate closed the distance between them. “Don’t scare me like that again, okay?”

“I’ll try not to.”

Before Kate could say anything, the door opened and Chad stood in the doorway, holding a pair of Styrofoam coffee cups. “She’s awake,” he said quietly, putting the cups down on the table beside him.

“She just opened her eyes. Of course, she’s more interested in her chances of winning an Emmy than in her recovery.” Kate looked down at her friend. “I’ll leave you two alone for a minute.”

“You won’t leave, though?” Tully said.