Making Strides (part 4 of 5)
by Tonya Muir
 

(disclaimers and random ramblings in part 1)

Lacey knocked softly on the door to the bathroom and listened.  Hearing no sound from inside, she turned the knob and let herself in.  Rachel was draped over the toilet, one arm resting on the rim of the bowl and her head resting on that arm.  Her hair was sweaty and stringy and her face was unbelievably pale.  She looked up at the sound of Lacey coming in and her somber green eyes registered shame.

"Hey, baby," Lacey whispered, sitting on the floor behind her lover and pulling the smaller woman against her.  Rachel struggled.  "Easy, I just want to hold you."

"Sick," the blonde muttered but it seemed to be an explanation and not a promise of the immediate future so Lacey held on.

"I know.  Lean against me."

Rachel's eyes were droopy from the sedative and after another moment of futile motion, she leaned back into Lacey's chest, her head against her partner's shoulder.

"Had a rough day," Lacey whispered, stroking the wet hair back and kissing Rachel's cheek.

"I heard her."

"I know, baby.  They played the tape for me."

"I needed you here," Rachel whispered back and even though there was no malice in her voice, it hurt Lacey just the same.

"I'm so sorry," the dark-haired woman said softly.  "So sorry."

"S'okay," the blonde turned to peer at her partner.  "Not mad ... just saying it would have been easier."

Lacey nodded.

"Gave me a shot," she gestured to her upper arm with a wrinkled brow.  "Hurts."

"From what I hear, honey, they didn't have much a of a choice."

"I heard her," was the blonde's only explanation and it was more than enough.

"Why did you drink that Tequila?  You're a light weight, you should know better," Lacey teased gently, pulling the small body more snugly against her as she leaned back into the white painted wall behind her.

"Hurts inside."

"Yeah," Lacey said simply.

"Thought the hurt would go away with the sedative and some Tequila."

"Didn't work?"

"Unh unh," she groaned softly.  "Just sick and sad and miserable."

Lacey nodded silently.  Her right hand rested on her lover's T-shirted abdomen and suddenly she felt the rumble of another onslaught.  She scooted forward, pulling Rachel's hair away from her face and leaning the smaller woman over the toilet.  All that came up was liquid and green bile and then nothing as Rachel suffered dry heaves.

She sobbed, one big gasping breath.

"I know," Lacey whispered, rocking her gently, placing warm lips to her lover's ear.  "I know it hurts so much."

"What happens now?"

"She's alive," Lacey said softly moving and stretching to wet a wash cloth and wipe off her companion's face.  "They're going to call back, they want me to be here probably.  They're not likely to hurt her if they're waiting for me."

Rachel nodded, leaning her face into the cool cloth her partner held.

"Rico sent the tape to a specialist in Denver ... recommended by someone Vinnie used to use.  The cops have it too but I'm not holding my breath for them.  That specialist is also trying to get the lines traced but I'm not sure how that will pan out."

"Rico did good," Rachel murmured.

"Rico is on my hit list for not taking better care of you," Lacey said seriously.

Rachel leaned forward so she could tilt her head and peer at Lacey.  Her brow wrinkled gently into a scowl.  "Not his fault.  I'm not some pet to be watched."

Lacey smiled, hugged the woman closer.  "What can I do to make you feel better?"

"Find Molly?" Rachel said softly then hurried to continue speaking when she felt the dark woman tense.  "I'm sorry, not fair.  I know you're trying."

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Rachel spoke again.  "I feel dirty."

Grateful that there was something she could do, Lacey disentangled herself and moved over to the tub where she began to run warm water.  She moved back to her lover to stand the small woman up on unsteady legs and undress her.  Then, Lacey helped the smaller woman over the rim and into to the water before guiding her to sit down.

Lacey watched her lover with gentle consideration before shucking her own clothes and climbing in with her.  The blonde looked up startled as the other woman settled her long frame in front of Rachel, knees bent to her chin.

"You're beautiful," Rachel said softly, wistfulness in her voice.

"Not as beautiful as you, baby," Lacey grinned in response and slowly began to lather up the washcloth she'd picked up again.  With gentle hands, she washed her lover's body, sweat slicked and clammy from her nausea.  She turned off the running water, the volume of their bodies in the small space not allowing for a lot of water in the tub.  Then she eased Rachel back gently to wet her hair and poured generous amounts of shampoo into large tanned hands, rubbing the suds firmly into blonde tresses.

Rachel's eyes fluttered closed.

"Feel good?"

"Mmmhmm," Rachel murmured, relaxing into the haze of alcohol and sedative and the warm touch of her lover.  "Shouldn't have gotten drunk."

"It's okay," Lacey assured her gently.  "Honey, I really am impressed with how strong you're being.  No one can fault you for a temporary lack of judgment."

"You make me strong," Rachel muttered.  "You're so stoic about everything."

Lacey considered the words, not liking how they made her sound.  She was slowly falling apart herself.  She'd planned on building a life with these two people, she'd left Vinnie in search of a new existence that was peaceful and included Molly and Rachel.  She'd struggled through a year of starting a new business, ironing out relationship highs and lows, raising a little girl, only to fail it all in the end.  Because without Rachel and Molly, nothing else mattered.  And if they didn't find Molly, she wasn't sure how the two of them would survive.

Rachel opened her eyes, blinked fuzzily at her lover.  "Bothers you that I said that?"

Lacey shrugged, cradled her lover's head gently as she lowered it into the water to rinse out the suds.  "I don't know how much longer I can be strong."

Rachel waited until Lacey righted her and then twisted slowly in the tub to face her lover again.  "Baby, I know how much you hurt.  I can see it in your eyes and the way you hold yourself.  Hurting doesn't make you weak.  It's your love and resolve that make you strong.  I'm stronger because of your conviction and because I know how much you love us.  Together we'll find her."

"And if we don't?" Lacey asked in a strangled voice, immediately regretting the words and wishing she could suck them back in.  Rachel needed her confidence, not her doubts.

Rachel smiled gently, pushed Lacey's knees apart so she could scoot forward and wrap the taller woman in a warm embrace.  She lifted her own legs over her lover's so her knees rested alongside the dark woman's ribs.  At any other time, the delicious feeling of water slicked skin meeting would have been erotic.  Here, in the depths of their shared sadness, it was wholly comforting.

"We will," the blonde whispered. Nuzzling into Lacey's neck and inhaling her scent.  It was sweet and musky at the same time, and incredibly familiar.  She rested like that for several long moments before she realized she should answer her lover's choked question.  It was a valid concern.  She suspected Lacey was most worried if their relationship could survive such a horrible blow.  "If we don't," she whispered hoarsely, "we can help each other through it, baby.  We'll be here for each other."

"You were wrong, you know," the dark woman responded softly.  "You give me the strength to survive.  You give me the love and dedication to continue.  Everything I am and can do is because of you."

"You're being overly dramatic," Rachel chastised gently, kissing the warm skin of her lover's nape.

"Never.  I don't do dramatic."

Rachel laughed gently, it was a true enough statement.

They stayed like that for what must have been a very long time, entwined in each other and inhaling the scent of the other as well as the soaps and shampoos surrounding them.  Their moment was disturbed by a knock on the door.

"Company," it was Rico's voice.

Lacey pushed away from her lover to determine Rachel's state and found her to still be droopy and quite likely buzzed.  "Let's go find our girl."

Rachel nodded, echoing the conviction of her partner.

XXXXX

The man banged the door open without any sort of preamble, slamming it so hard it bounced off the wall and threatened to close again.  He caught it with one large hand and glared at the little girl on the bed.

The sudden motion and noise had caused Molly to jump to her feet on the lumpy mattress.  She stood shakily with her back against the wall, watching the man approach with wild blue eyes.  They darted momentarily to the still open door causing the man to laugh.

"Not a chance little girl," he growled.  "I need you to do something for me."

Molly shook her head mutely, flattened herself into the wall in an effort to escape him.

"Wrong answer."

"You ready down there?" a voice called, startling Molly.  Since her abduction the only person she had seen was the meaty man before her.  It hadn't crossed her mind that there was someone else.

"We will be," her antagonist called back.

Hollow sounds of feet hitting wooden stairs prefaced the emergence of another man in the room.  He was tall and lean with jet black hair and grey eyes.  His face was angular, accentuated by a short haircut and a small goatee.  Molly watched this new man with terrifying interest.  He held something in his hand and stepped closer to the bed.

"What's your name, little girl?" he asked smoothly.  Though his voice wasn't soothing, this man was making no obvious attempt to scare her like her abductor had.  She watched him warily with wide eyes and closed mouth.

"Name," he cajoled, voice still low but now slightly taunting.  A wry smile played at the edge of his lips and he seemed to almost enjoy her terror.

"M-molly," she whispered hoarsely.  Aside from crying, she'd not uttered a sound the entire day.  Her throat was raw from sobs and from the incessant heaves she'd suffered since the night before.

"Molly what?"

"Wilson.  Molly Wilson," her voice was more sure.  She examined the device he held and realized it was a recorder of some kind.  She was relieved with that discovery.  He must be going to play that for Lacey and her mother.  And then they'd pay some money like people do in the movies.  And then she'd go home.  Always a happy ending ... always.

"Good.  Tell your mother that you haven't been harmed."

Molly cocked her head slightly, her hunched posture on the bed reflecting that of a frightened rabbit watching its predator.  She considered the question very carefully.  She was tired and hungry, her wrists were sore and bloody.  She smelled like urine and sweat and vomit.  She felt quite harmed and that left her confused as to how to respond to the man's demands.

He took a step nearer.  "Tell her," though his stance had become more threatening, his voice remained at the same teasing softness.  The contradiction of action and voice confused her all the more.

"B-but," she stuttered, trembling again, feeling her stomach churn.

"Tell her."

"I want my Mama," she whimpered softly, lacking any other coherent thought at that moment.  She glanced to the room's other occupant who had stood silently against the far wall just inside the door since the man with the recorder had entered.  He wouldn't meet her gaze but rather stared straight ahead so she turned her quivering attention back to the person addressing her.

"Then you'll cooperate you little brat," the lanky man growled.

"I'm not okay," she murmured.  "I'm sore and I'm sad.  I need my Mama and my Lacey," she began crying again and the man grinned evilly.  This was going better than he'd planned.

"They're glad to not have you.  A worthless kid like you," he said slowly, clearly, making sure his voice was picking up on the recorder.  "A brat that does nothing but take up room, cost hard earned money to keep."

"No," she wailed.  "They love me.  You don't know!  You're just a bad man!"

"Sorry kid.  You're not worth love.  You're not worth the time of day."  He let her sobs be recorded for a few more minutes before he clicked the machine off and angled his head towards the door.  Both men left silently and closed the door behind them.

Molly sank to the smelly mattress and cried until she started heaving again.  She knew the man was lying.  She knew he was trying to hurt her.  Still a tiny part of her worried over the words and she prayed that she was right and that Lacey and her mother would want her back.

XXXXX

The women changed into clean clothes before coming out into the main part of the condo.  Though Rachel appeared plenty green around the gills and more than a touch unsteady on her feet, she followed her lover doggedly down the hard wood of the hallway.  In fact, she was following so closely she ran right into the taller woman when Lacey stopped suddenly.

"George?" Lacey said softly.

Rachel tilted her head.  "George?" she repeated, peering around her lover's body to see the man in question standing casually in the condo's living room talking to Mary and Rico.

Rachel unceremoniously pushed her partner out of the way and jogged forward for a hug which was willingly given.

"Hey," George said softly, the tone of his voice soothing and familiar.

Lacey merely stood and watched as he hugged the blonde woman.  It had been almost three months since they'd last seen each other and the parting hadn't been on the best of terms.  They'd all received the same threats and they'd tried to talk them through when George had thrown up his hands and said he was leaving.  The group had argued for a long time, George and Lacey had exchanged some heated words about being a coward and being too proud to consider the safety of loved ones.  The tall black man had stormed out of the offices without so much as a goodbye.  Two days later his house had been empty.

He set Rachel aside gently, smoothing her hair back as he did so.  He'd always had a tender spot for the young woman, they all did.  She'd obviously been blessed by some higher power to be able to walk into Lacey's life and turn the dark woman around.  "Lace," he said softly, tentatively, letting his hands drop to his sides.

Even sober Rachel would have been oblivious to the underlying tension.  Until recently she'd thought George really had left on business issues and had been in too much of a hurry to start a new job out of state to stop by the house and bid farewell.  When Lacey had finally brought her young lover up to speed, she'd said that George ran from the threats, never mentioning the anger that had surrounded his departure.

He stepped forward now, dark brown eyes matching the rich hue of his skin, and offered a hand to his former boss.  Lacey, Bernard, and George had been the heart of Vinnie's best team for a very long time.  They'd been through more deals, more bloody battles, more scenes of death than either wanted to remember right now.  But it also gave them an undeniable camaraderie.

"George," Lacey nodded, then her stoic features edged into a small smile.  She stepped forward to meet him and hugged him close.  "You were right," she whispered, referring to his jabs at her pride causing Rachel pain in the end.

He knew exactly what she meant.  "No, Lace.  I was wrong.  You love them more than anything, I knew that.  I was angry.  This isn't your fault."

"I wish I could believe you," she whispered as she backed away from him, her hands still clasped on his upper arms.  He was the only one on the team taller than she was and she tilted her head to meet his sincere gaze.  "How did you know to come?"

"Rico called," he glanced to the young man standing quietly across the room.  Rico apparently was waiting to receive Lacey's wrath as he avoided meeting her eyes.

"I thought ... he could help.  He always was the best with the technical aspects ..." his voice trailed off.

Lacey grinned.  It was true enough.  George was a gadget man and built everything from taps to incendiaries to bugs.  Before joining Lacey in her work for Vinnie, he'd been a strong part of Vinnie's more legitimate software company.  George had been the foundation of their security business once the team had left.  "S'okay, Rico," she assured her young friend.  "I'm glad we're all here."  The dark woman glanced around the room and her eyes landed on her lover who leaned awkwardly against the bar dividing this room from the kitchen.

"Baby," she dropped her grip from George's arm to hold out her hand towards the blonde.  "C'mere and sit down."

"M'okay," Rachel protested but reached for the hand anyway.

"I know you are, love.  Come sit with me," Lacey coaxed gently, leading the smaller woman over to the couch.

"Can I get you anything?" Mary asked pointedly, tilting her head in the blonde's direction.

"Water, I think," Lacey nodded.  "And maybe put on some coffee."

George watched the exchange with some confusion.  Lacey was whispering gentle words to her lover, kneeling in front of her, stroking jean clad thighs.  "Should I ask what the story is?" he inquired after a moment's consideration.

Rico gave him the brief run down and then took the taller man into another room to listen to the tape.  Lacey was grateful, being pretty sure her lover wouldn't be able to handle hearing it again.

Hearing the tape sent George to his cell phone to speak with the specialist they'd located in Denver.  Then he quietly went to work on the phone lines and confirmed with the police station that records had been requested on any incoming calls.

Lacey and Mary concentrated on getting Rachel coherent while the men went about their business.

It was well after dark when the phone rang again.

XXXXX

The caller ID showed the number as unavailable which was no real surprise.  Lacey watched George and waited for his nod before she clicked the speaker button on the phone.

"Hello?"

Immediately the phone crackled and hummed, the connection poor at best.  The background noise was loud, making the caller raise his voice.

"Lacey Montgomery?"

"Speaking," she acknowledged shortly.  "What do you want?"

Rachel came up slowly and stood next to her tall lover, wrapping a surprisingly strong arm around the dark woman's waist. The several hours since their bath had greatly helped the blonde's level of sobriety.

"I have the girl."

"What do you want?" Lacey growled again, wanting to cut to the chase.  Actually, she really wanted to crawl down the phone line and kill this man with her bare hands.

"You."

Lacey nodded slowly.  That had been predictable enough.  They weren't interested in fortune, that much had been clear from the start.  But she wanted the man to talk more, she couldn't recognize his voice from the few words he'd uttered.  "What are the terms?"

"No terms.  You for the girl.  She'll be safe, you'll take her place."

"How do we know you really have her?"

The man laughed darkly at the other end and Lacey felt her partner's body stiffen.  She shook her head at Rachel, motioning with her fingers that she should be quiet.  "Listen," the voice on the phone replied.

There was silence, followed by a click, and even worse reception as the man apparently juggled the phone and adjusted the volume.  It was obvious they were listening to a recording and not the child herself.

"What's your name, little girl?" it was obviously the same man.  The question was followed by silence.

"Name."

"M-molly."   At the sound of the girl's voice, both women closed their eyes and swallowed hard.

"Molly what?"

"Wilson.  Molly Wilson."
 
"Good.  Tell your mother that you haven't been harmed."

Silence.

"Tell her."

"B-but."

"Tell her."

"I want my Mama."

Rachel put her hand over her mouth, choking back a sob.  Lacey squeezed her close, kissed the blonde's temple.

"Then you'll cooperate you little brat."

"I'm not okay.  I'm sore and I'm sad.  I need my Mama and my Lacey."

"They're glad to not have you.  A worthless kid like you.  A brat that does nothing but take up room, cost hard earned money to keep."

Though the words caused hot red anger to soar through Rachel's body, she felt her lover stiffen and back away.  The blonde released the other woman, looking up to see her face pale and her eyes wide.  Lacey was shaking her head.

"No," the recording continued.  "They love me.  You don't know!  You're just a bad man!"

"Sorry kid.  You're not worth love.  You're not worth the time of day."

They listened to her heartbreaking sobs for a moment longer before the recording clicked off and the voice came back.  "I have her all right."

Lacey slammed her hands down on the table where the phone rested.  The loud crack reverberated through the room.  All the occupants watched the dark woman with barely controlled trepidation.  Though she'd appeared confused moments before, now the only emotion that could be associated with Lacey was raw unchecked anger.

"You fucking son of a bitch," she growled.  "I'll rip your God damned worthless tongue out of your fucking mouth!"

Rachel blanched and grabbed her lover's arm.  What happened to play it cool?  What happened to feeling things out and letting them run their course?

The man laughed, evidently thrilled with the woman's verbal reaction.

"You so much as touch her, you asshole, and I'll break each bone in your body one at a time."  It wasn't an idle threat and everyone present realized it.  Rachel looked to George with pleading eyes, he merely shook his head and shrugged.

"You'll get the swap information tomorrow by messenger.  Sleep well, Lace," the line went dead a second before Lacey swiped the phone off the table and sent it across the room.

"Fuck!" she screamed, her voice hoarse and ragged.  She turned to watch her associates with untamed searching eyes.

"Lace?  Baby?" Rachel said softly.  "You know who it is?"

The dark woman nodded, her expression an odd mixture of rage and sadness.

"Who?" Rachel choked on the single word.  She'd never seen her lover so angry and though they hadn't expected good news with the impending phone call, they hadn't anticipated the ex-crony to react with such bald emotion.

Lacey looked to her partner with gently imploring eyes.  She asked for love, support, forgiveness in that one blue eyed glance.  It was given without question or need for explanation.  Lacey nodded, eternally grateful for the unspoken commitment.  "Jeremy," she whispered.

Rachel's brow wrinkled in thought and she pursed her lips slightly as she searched her brain for the meaning of the name.  No one else in the room seemed to know either until emerald eyes widened with shock.  "Holy shit," Rachel muttered.  "That's just not right."

Lacey shook her had once before spinning around and storming out of the room.

"Lacey!" Rachel called after her.

"It's okay, Raich," the dark woman called over her shoulder.  "I'm not going anywhere.  I need to beat the shit out of something."  Moments later they heard the front door slam.

Rico, George, and Mary all watched Rachel expectantly.  They felt like they'd gone to the restroom during an integral part of the plot and were now busily trying to catch up.

"Hope whatever she finds isn't living," George murmured softly.  "Care to clue us in, blondie?"

"Jeremy's her brother," Rachel said softly, almost feeling like she was betraying her lover by revealing such information.  Without another word she headed out after the dark woman.

Rico glanced to George, confirming it wasn't common knowledge that Lacey even had a brother.

XXXXX

The stars were more vivid here, dancing and sparkling against the black velvet sky.  Lacey even thought for a moment that maybe there were more stars in this part of the country.  In the back of her mind, though, she knew it had nothing to do with the number of stars, rather the mountain's altitude and lack of New York City lights allowed for more of them to shine through.

Her mind spun as she recalled her brother's words on the tape.  It was almost surreal to hear his voice after so many years.  They hadn't spoken in over fifteen years but they'd parted on decent terms.  She and her mother had had a battle royale upon her departure to work for Vinnie permanently but she and Jeremy had hugged and whispered their goodbyes.

Confusing the issue more was the unpredictability of the situation.  Would he hurt Molly?  Had he killed Bernard?  At first she'd thought it ironic because Bernie had been like a brother to Lacey.  He was a solid friend and a comforting man who'd been with her through thick and thin.  It was now she realized that the death of her close friend had very little to do with irony after all.

The dark woman growled and took a gloved swing at a snow bank on the side of the street.  The snow was dirty and hard, plowed out of the way of mountain tourists and mixed with gravel from the road.  She punched it a few more times, finding the crunch under her knuckles somewhat satisfying though she would have much preferred the solid contact of a jaw bone and the accompanying bruises to her hand.  It had been a long time since she'd wished for the outlet of physical violence against another person.

Completely absorbed in her assault on the hapless snow, she missed the sound of approaching footsteps and only became aware of another's presence when she felt a hand on her shoulder.  She spun quickly, ready to swing, stopping her fist inches from Rachel's face.  The jade eyes were wide with alarm.

"Go away," Lacey growled, turning on her heel and walking away from the small blonde who meant so much to her.  She didn't want her lover to see this uncontrollable rage, the fire that consumed her very being from the inside out.

Rachel had already seen it: the flames licked tauntingly in her partner's ice blue eyes, giving her an overall appearance of cold fury.  The anger rolled off of the woman in thick black waves touching everyone and everything in her path.  It was an all-consuming demon that had once ruled Lacey's life but now only lapped at the edges of her soul.  Unless something unleashed it as her brother's phone call had done.

"Sorry," Rachel said softly, jogging to catch up.  "Not gonna leave you."  Her words traveled by way of misty vapor to the striding woman beside her.  She found she had to hop every third step just to keep even with the taller woman's pace.  Somewhere in the back of her mind she realized she wouldn't be able to keep this up long, not being acclimated to the poorly oxygenated air at this altitude.  She could already feel herself beginning to pant for breath.

"Fuck him," Lacey snarled.  "That little two bit nothing.  I fucking raised him and this is the thanks I get?  He came to my God damned bed and cried at night when they were screaming at each other downstairs.  He found comfort in my arms while we listened to them hit each other."

Rachel followed doggedly, mildly surprised at how much her lover was revealing without careful prompting on her part.  She'd never been able to get much out of Lacey concerning her family.  Whenever she'd tried, it had seemed like an interrogation with the dark woman squirming as if strapped to a wooden backed chair with a single bare light bulb dangling in her face.  Now the words flew out of Lacey.  And though Rachel had her own series of questions about Jeremy's possible whereabouts and Molly's potential danger, she chose to keep those to herself for the time being.

"You know how I knew it was him?" Lacey asked her companion.  She didn't wait for an answer which was for the best since Rachel was having trouble catching her breath anyway.  "Because of the tape.  Because of what he said to Molly.  Those words were the same my mother used on me when I walked out the last time.  She said she was glad to be rid of me.  That I cost too much of her money to keep.  Her fucking drug money."  Rachel wisely decided not to point out where a large percentage of Lacey's own money originated.  "That I wasn't worth love ... wasn't worth the time of day."  Suddenly the dark woman stopped and spun on her heel, Rachel gladly stopped beside her, chest heaving.

Lacey watched her lover for a long seeking moment.  She knew there were tears in her own eyes, she knew that she likely looked manic to the gentle green gaze before her.  But all she saw reflected there was love and understanding.  It was much more than she deserved.

"I was fifteen," Lacey said softly, tipping her head up to look at the stars.  She felt hot tears leave her eyes at the outside corners and track down into the hair at her temples.  "Ya can't say that to a fifteen year old."

"Can't say it to anyone, Lace," Rachel offered softly, her breathing beginning to steady.  "It was never your fault they were what they were."

Lacey swallowed hard.  "I wanted her to make me stay.  I didn't want to go work for Vinnie.  I didn't like what he was offering.  But I didn't have anywhere else to go.  I didn't know what to do."

"Baby, you don't owe me any explanations," the blonde murmured, stepping closer to rest a gloved hand on Lacey's leather clad arm.

"I do!" she groaned, shrugging off her lover's gentle touch.  "God dammit, I do!  Look what I've done to you, to Molly."

"No, honey.  You didn't do anything but love us and provide for us.  None of this is your fault."

Lacey looked down from the sky to the face watching hers.  Rachel's blonde hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, leaving her features open to the dark woman's discerning gaze.  The moonlight danced across pale skin and the dark circles under familiar green eyes.  Lacey took a steadying breath.  "We'll get Molly back and then I'll find somewhere safe for the two of you," she said, nodding her head as if trying to convince her companion.  "Somewhere away from me."

Rachel crinkled her brow in confusion, knowing that she was sober enough finally to be hearing things correctly.  She shook her head once as if to rattle cobwebs out of her brain.  "Crony, I thought we were done playing the push-her-away-for-her-own-good game.  I don't much care for the game myself and there is no winner."

Lacey turned as if to storm off again but Rachel stopped her this time, wrapping a strong hand around her lover's wrist.  "You can't run from me."

The dark woman spun quickly, trying to wrench her arm from her companion's grasp.  But the small hands were strong from years of riding and held on with amazing tenacity.  Lacey trembled with her rage but Rachel stood there with her, toe to toe, daring the other woman to try to overpower her.  It seemed like hours but was actually only minutes that they stood there on a mountain top in Colorado, in the moonlit night, locked in each other's gazes, before Rachel sensed the tension leave her lover.

Lacey snorted and dropped her gaze to the wet pavement at their feet.  Then she raised her face skyward to let the stars and moon shine across her sharp features and tanned skin.  "You are the best thing in my life, Rachel Wilson," she murmured to the heavens.  "The best thing that ever happened to me."

"You know I feel the same way, baby," Rachel responded easily, not letting go of the captured wrist even though it now dangled benignly at her tall companion's side.

"Everyone else I ever loved pushed me away or kicked me out.  But not you ... no matter how much I try," she grinned ruefully, face still tilted towards the night sky.

"Never me," Rachel confirmed.

"I can't shake you," the dark woman held up her arm and jiggled it gently, proving her point when Rachel's grasp was firm.  Lacey grinned sadly.

"Nope," the blonde smiled back.

"My mom never loved me."

Rachel swallowed audibly at the muttered words so child-like in their delivery.  She'd always known there was a place in Lacey's past that they'd never uncovered, even during Rachel's own battle with her overbearing relatives and their hateful words.  She also knew that though Lacey presented kevlar skin to the world, counting on her cold exterior and her steely gaze to deflect any wounds, things touched her deeply.  She loved with her whole soul, vowing ultimate loyalty to the few she called friends and sheltering that love deep in her heart.  The blonde also knew that she was the only one who'd ever been allowed to see so much, know so much.  "Lace ... love ... your mother never knew you.  She was too wrapped up in drugs and violence to see what you were.  What you had the potential to become.  She saw you as a means to an end, she didn't see the goodness in you."

Lacey shook her head, refusing to meet the convincing green gaze in front of her.  "No goodness.  This is what I had the potential to be, nothing more."

"Yes, yes," Rachel agreed readily, placing a warm hand on her lover's taut abdomen.  "Exactly!  This is what you are, baby.  You're a loving partner and a doting mother, a gentle friend.  You are the strongest, most beautiful person I have ever met."

Lacey's only response for several long seconds was silence.  Her focus concentrated on the evergreen tops towering towards the sky across the street.  "Why did Jeremy do this?" she whispered.  "I thought he loved me, too."

"Honey, you told me a long time ago that he was fiercely loyal to your mother.  Maybe he changed so much once you left.  You were the only thing guiding him towards goodness, without that your mother was able to shape him."

"I made him," Lacey nodded slowly.  If only she'd stayed.

"No!" the blonde barked, realizing her mistake the moment the words had left her mouth.  "She made him.  He made himself.  We all have control of what we are and what we've become.  I'm glad you left them, love.  I'm glad you worked for Vinnie and came to Aqueduct last year.  I'm glad you saw something in a smart mouthed exercise girl with a death wish," she grinned gently with her words.  "I'm glad you walked away from Jeremy and your mother because it was the path that brought you to me."

"Glad?  Even at the cost of your daughter?" Lacey questioned, still refusing to meet Rachel's eyes.

"Don't do that, Lace.  Don't you dare try to take the blame for all this.  Jeremy is what he is.  You could have only guided him, never changed him.  The decisions he made were his alone.  Just like yours were, and mine.  I did some really stupid things and it was you who helped me to see past those.  To instead focus on what I was inside and what I had the potential to become.  Now do yourself the same favor.  Jeremy is not of your making.  This catastrophe is not your fault."

Finally, slowly, Lacey did drop her gaze into the eyes of her lover.  If only she deserved the devotion she saw there.

"Now, drag yourself out of this dark place you've decided to dwell in.  Because our little girl is in the custody of a lunatic.  And I can't get her back without you."

"It's easy, Raich," Lacey said softly.  "He wants me.  He gets me, you get Molly.  No problem."

"Big problem," Rachel countered.  "Huge problem.  I'm not handing over one of the two most important things in my life to get the other.  Call me selfish but that is not the answer and I refuse to let you give yourself up that way."

"Selfish," the dark woman grinned gently.  She slowly felt her confidence returning as her mind began to truly evaluate the situation.  "But I think that's exactly what we're going to do.  I have a better chance than Molly."

"No," the blonde shook her head.  "Believe it or not, baby, the two of you have about the same chance against a man with a gun."

Lacey shook her head and turned back towards the condo.  This time she slowed her pace for her lover who'd dropped her hand from its sure grip to instead tangle with Lacey's gloved fingers.  The dark woman knew exactly what she was going to do.

XXXXX

Rachel spent most of the evening curled into a soundless ball on the couch in the living room.  She watched the fire lick up the flue, touching and scorching as it went.  The crackling of the wood was vaguely comforting and the blue in the middle of each flame reminded her of her lover's solemn gaze.  It was actually Lacey's quiet voice in the adjoining room that offered her the most comfort and she listened to the familiar rumblings.

Lacey was talking softly with Rico and George, outlining plans for the next day.  All they could really do was wait for the messenger to bring the necessary information.  But they were planning quietly for possible contingencies and ways to track Lacey once the trade was made.  They were talking about this last item when Rachel ventured slowly into the room.

George looked up from the paper they were all making notes on, catching the woman's movement through the threshold of the room.  He smiled at her and Lacey spun slightly on her stool to see her partner standing nearby.

"Hey, baby," Lacey murmured, extending a hand.  "C'mere."  Rachel took the offered hand readily, letting her companion tug her towards the small group.  Lacey slid from the stool and wrapped the younger woman into her arms, back against chest.  She pressed her face into Rachel's hair, deeply inhaling the familiar scent.

"You can't go," Rachel said softly, resting her arms across the tanned ones holding her.

"It's the only way, honey," Lacey said softly.  "We can talk about it a little more in a minute.  Right now we're going to give me a tracker.  Wanna watch?"

"How are you gonna do it?" Rachel twisted in the dark woman's arms to peer up at ice colored eyes.

George pushed a small plastic box across the breakfast bar and Lacey disentangled so that she could open the box and show the contents to Rachel.

Moments later, Lacey sat on the stool, her crossed arms on the raised table and her head on her arms.  Her dark hair was pushed away to expose her neck.  George stood ready with a small syringe of a numbing agent and Rachel thought his hands were trembling.

"Uh, let me do that," the blonde suggested.  "Okay, Lace?"

The dark woman was mildly grateful.  She knew her lover had experience in delivering shots to her equine patients which was more than George could claim.  "Thank you," Lacey said softly.

"Won't they find it here?" Rachel asked, tapping the syringe.  "There'll be a cut."

"He might," Lacey acknowledged.

"Won't that make it worse for you?  We should put it somewhere he wouldn't look."

George nodded.  "When we worked people over, Lace, where did we never expose?"

"Is he gonna work you over?" Rachel questioned with obvious concern.

"I would if I were him," Lacey murmured to her lover and then turned to her friend with a slight smirk.  "The nether regions."

George returned the rueful smile.  "Sounds like a good idea to me."

"It would," Lacey growled playfully.  "I say that's Rachel's job.  We don't need your assistance."  The dark woman hopped down from the stool and turned immediately to her young blonde partner who appeared baffled.

"What did we just agree I'm going to do?" she asked hesitantly.

"You, my love, are going to perform a minor operation," she answered cheerfully, grabbing the small kit and Rachel's empty hand.

"Wait a second, here ... I'm not so sure-"

"Hush, baby.  You'll do fine."
 
XXXXX

Moments later, Lacey sat on the bed in their room.  She wore only a nightshirt which was pooled around her hips, exposing her lower extremities, and sat on a large bath towel to protect the off-white sheets.  She leaned quietly against the massive wooden headboard.  Rachel knelt between her lover's legs, silently shaving a patch of dark curly hair.

It was amazingly erotic to both women.  The blonde's gentle touch sent chills through Lacey.  Rachel was warmed by her lover's obvious trust.

"Won't the shaving give it away?"

"Can't stitch it without shaving," Lacey murmured.  "'Sides, I really hope my brother won't be looking there."

Rachel pantomimed a gag and Lacey chuckled dryly.

"Am I hurting you?" Rachel inquired as she finished up the shaving.

"Not at all," the dark woman assured.  Rachel used the edge of a towel to wipe away the remaining soap and hair, leaving a square inch bared of kinky hair.  The blonde eyed the syringe carefully, raising it up and removing the needle cover.  She tapped at it and flushed the bubbles.

"Ready?"

"Mmmhmm," the dark head bobbed in a nod.  The blue eyes were amazingly trusting.

"Here goes," Rachel said under her breath.  She inserted the needle in several spots over the bare skin and out towards where there was still hair.  Her goal was to numb the entire area.  "I can't believe I'm hurting this place," the blonde grinned wryly.  "Happens to be one of my favorite parts of your body."

Lacey chuckled softly.  "Don't worry, doesn't hurt.  I couldn't let anyone else touch me there."

"No one else?" Rachel raised her head, green eyes serious.  She knew Lacey was committed to their relationship but liked to be reassured from time to time.

"Nope.  Just you.  You'll see the scar there when we make love and you'll know why."

Rachel snorted, resuming her task, injecting the syringe into six places before it was empty.  "It's the only scar of yours I know the story behind."

"What others do you want to know?" Lacey asked seriously, regarding her lover with tilted head.

"Actually," Rachel capped the syringe and placed it in the small box.  She adjusted her rubber gloves again before withdrawing the scalpel.  "I don't think I want to know."

"I would tell you anything, Raich."

"I know, baby," the blonde smiled encouragingly, pausing in her actions to give the numbing agent a chance to work.  "Maybe we'll reserve the name that scar game for when you come back to me.  Are you going to tell me why you have to go?"

"Yeah.  We'll talk about it.  Do this first."

"Okay," the blonde sighed, absently stroking her lover's exposed thigh while she waited.  She could already smell the dark woman's arousal.

"Knock it off, Raich," Lacey growled playfully, just her young companion's gentle touch was enough to make her yearn for more.  "Or we'll have to skip the impromptu surgery."

The smaller woman grinned.  "I already numbed you there."

"But not in the right place," Lacey smiled, waggling thin dark eyebrows and causing her partner to laugh.

They regarded each other silently for a few moments, reading more in their exchanged glances than words could have spoken.  After a moment, the blonde tapped the shaved skin and surrounding area.

"It's good," Lacey confirmed.  "Go ahead."

Rachel took a deep steadying breath and eyed the scalpel before gaining courage and glancing to her lover.  She tried to exude confidence but wasn't sure how well she was doing.

The skin sliced neatly under the slight pressure of the sharpened blade.  Rachel felt her stomach roil at the slim line of welling blood and clamped her jaw tightly.  Now was not the time to run to the bathroom.

Lacey handed the young woman pads of gauze and watched while she dabbed at the blood.  "Now lift up an edge with the scalpel and use the forceps to put the tracker in."

"Does this hurt?"

"Not at all."

"Do I have to turn this thing on?" Rachel squinted at the small device, turning the forceps around in her hand.

Lacey grinned.  "No, just put it in."

The blonde did as she was told, finding the procedure easier than she'd imagined.  Then she dabbed at the incision again before extracting from the box items she'd need to suture the wound.  Reading her young companion's thinly veiled uncertainty, Lacey actually did the stitches since she had experience in suturing.  Three tiny sutures finished the job and soon Rachel was applying a dressing, using cloth tape to keep it in place.

"All done," she announced, looking up to meet gentle sapphire eyes.

"You did a good job."

Rachel laughed.  "You could have done it yourself, crony."

"Maybe.  But you did it for me," she reached a hand out and stroked her lover's cheek.  "Do you think you can sleep tonight?"

The blonde shrugged and dropped her eyes to gather up the items she'd used.  She hopped from the bed and padded on bare feet into the bathroom.

"Raich, honey?" Lacey called softly.

"I just ... my heart hurts at the thought of losing you," the blonde announced, leaning against the door jamb dividing the two rooms and watching her lover reclining half naked on the bed.

"You're not gonna lose me.  Come here," she extended an easily accepted hand and snuggled the blonde securely into her side.  Lacey stroked the golden hair with long delicate fingers.

"We have to do the exchange so we can make contact with these guys.  We get Molly back to you, they take me.  But with this tracker, Rico and George can find them ... and me.  End of story."

"Except the killing and bloodshed part," Rachel murmured, placing a kiss on the dark woman's neck.

"Well, I'm hoping to avoid that part."

"Mmm," Rachel nodded, glad to hear that.  "Can't we pretend to exchange you and get away with both of you?"

"If we can, we will," Lacey assured her lover.  "But we have to kind of play that by ear.  We won't know if there's potential for that until we see how things are going to unfold.  Me going with them is kind of the basic plan.  We can build on it as we go."

"Make improvements."

"Yeah," the dark-haired woman agreed.

"I don't know if I can do this," Rachel said softly, snuggling closer, latching her lips onto the throbbing pulse in her partner's neck.  She was comforted by the salty taste and the gentle rhythm.  This was proof of Lacey's life, her heart beating, her skin warm and pliant.  Oh God, keep her this way.

Lacey silently tilted her cheek into the soft pale hair, knowing that there were no words to calm her lover's fears or her own trepidation.  She watched as Rachel's slim muscular fingers trailed patterns on her firm bare thigh.

For long moments the two women sat like that, entwined with each other, absorbing the warmth and compassion.  Lacey glanced to the clock at last.  It was nearing midnight.  "How about we go tell them the dirty deed is done.  Then let's lock ourselves in here for the rest of the night," the dark woman suggested, disentangling herself and climbing to her feet.  She gingerly slipped on a pair of flannel pants, stretching the elastic well away from her body over the site of her minor surgery.

Rico and George teased her appropriately before wishing her and Rachel sweet dreams.  Both women snorted their obvious disagreement and bade Mary goodnight before going back into the bedroom.

Lacey turned off the light and crawled quietly into the large bed with her lover.  Their legs slid together under the sheets.

"You okay?" Rachel queried, obviously indicating the incision.

"No problem," Lacey assured her but the blonde figured Lacey's arm could be falling off and it would still be no problem.

"How about you?" Lacey asked softly, pulling the smaller woman warmly to her body, making sure they were touching all along their lengths.  "I'm sorry I stormed out on you.  It must have been hard to hear that tape."

"It was okay," Rachel responded after several moments of consideration.  "We know she's alive.  We know who has her.  It's progress anyway."  She paused for awhile.  "She sounded really frightened."

"Yeah.  She did."

"What do you think she's doing right now?" Rachel whispered into the darkness.

"Probably wishing she were laying here with us.  Just like we're wishing it," the dark woman murmured, pulling her lover close and kissing her temple.

"Do you think he's hurting her?" the blonde's voice cracked, obviously on the verge of tears.

Lacey paused for a very long time, torn between reassuring her partner and being brutally honest.  She decided honesty would be preferred at this stage in the game.  "I don't know.  He's no stranger to abuse.  And abused people normally make the best abusers.  But he has no reason outside of that to hurt her.  She doesn't know anything that he needs to find out.  Hurting her won't get us to her faster, we're playing on his timeline."

Rachel nodded slightly, her hair rustling against Lacey's broad shoulder.  "You had the same treatment as your brother, you didn't become an abuser."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, baby, but I'm no stranger to violence," the dark woman reminded her lover.

"But not me and Molly ... you wouldn't hurt your family like your parents did."

"Never you and Molly.  I swear that.  If there comes a day where I can't control my violence and I hurt either of you ... then we'll have to seriously talk about alternatives."

"Won't happen," Rachel said confidently.

"Hope not," the dark-haired woman nodded.  She was quiet for a very long time, watching the moonlight reflect off the snow below the window and play along the floor and wall of the small room.  It was peaceful here.  The gentle hum of the furnace and the slight rustling of sheets as Rachel quietly shifted were the only sounds to break the silence.

"I have an idea," Lacey said at last, squeezing the familiar body more tightly against her.  "When all this is over, you, Molly, and I are going to Hawaii."

"Why Hawaii?" the blonde laughed softly.

"Dunno.  Sounds good though, doesn't it?  Warm and romantic."

"We'll have to wait until Spring break.  Can't take her out of school."

"Good, it's a plan then," Lacey said cheerfully.

More silence followed for a long time as Lacey trailed gentle fingers over her lover's body, along her skin and through her fair hair.  She placed a kiss on the smaller woman's forehead, leaning forward to do so.  The blonde's head was tucked neatly into Lacey's shoulder.

"Do you think we," Lacey hesitated, kissed Rachel again before starting her question over.  "I want very much to taste you," she admitted softly.  "To touch you and smell you."

"In case we don't again?" Rachel asked alarmed.

Not wanting to vocalize that thought, she opted for another truth instead.  "I just need it," the admission was harder than she would have thought.  The old Lacey wasn't used to needing anything but herself.  "Are you up to it?"  The last few days had been such an emotional roller coaster.  Tomorrow was Christmas, something they'd planned for months previous.  She knew Rachel was depressed and making love was probably the farthest thing from her mind.

"Only if I get to treat you to the same," Rachel whispered huskily, moving her body silkily along the lengthy form.  Lacey needed no further invitation.

Kisses came easily and caresses even moreso.  Lacey pulled off her lover's sleep shirt and tossed it to the side, quickly followed by her own.  Her flannel pants came next, allowing her to lay her warm naked body down on that of her lover.

Rachel raised her knee between Lacey's long legs and felt the taller woman grimace against her neck where she'd been lavishing kisses.

"Oops ... sorry," Rachel husked, lowering her leg again.  "How are we gonna do this, gimp?"

Lacey chuckled, the sound dark and dry where it was muffled against pale skin.  "Let me."

"Noo," the blonde whined pathetically, even as she was losing the battle to her lover's coaxing fingers and velvet tongue.  "I want to, too."

"Wait your turn," the dark woman instructed, moving down Rachel's smooth body to capture a rigid nipple in gentle teeth.  Rachel arched off the bed into the sensation, her small strong hands tangling into Lacey's hair.  The long black strands tickled the outside of her breasts and down her ribs.

"I never go first," Rachel panted, any attempt at pouting vanquished by her labored breathing and arching back.

"You want me to stop?" Lacey teased, stilling all of her motion to lean back.  The moonlight flashed off the pale woman writhing beneath her, illuminating the blonde in muted hues of silver.

"Ungh," Rachel protested vaguely.  "Don't stop."  She reached up to grip her lover's shoulders, trying to pull their bodies back together.

"Never," Lacey responded with a savage growl.  She lowered herself again, taking Rachel's slim thighs and settling them over her shoulders.  She stopped like that, reveling in the familiar weight of those legs, the comforting scent of Rachel's arousal.  She could already imagine the taste on her tongue, sliding down her throat.  Eyes closed, the dark woman savored this moment, wanting always to remember what it was like to be here making love to Rachel, knowing the young woman like no other person could.

"Lace," the blonde moaned, oblivious to the powerful moment her lover was living.  She raised her hips off the mattress, pleading, wanting, needing.  Her hands clutched at the sheets.

Lacey lay for a while longer, raised on her elbows, stomach on the bed though her long legs dangled off so her bare feet touched the cold wood floor.  Finally, her lover's squirming form brought the dark woman from her melancholy.  She grinned.  "Can I help you, baby?"

"You'll need help in a minute if you keep laying there doing nothing," Rachel warned but she was laughing, making her threat futile.

Lacey pursed her lips and blew cool air on the heated area  inches in front of her.  Rachel jumped slightly, her thigh muscles tensing against the dark woman's ears.  Lacey blew again, chuckling, then opened her mouth to breathe hot air on her lover, hovering over the blonde's opening and russet curly hair.

"Please," Rachel rocked her hips, knowing what it felt like to have Lacey's lips where she wanted them, unable to wait for that sensation.

"You may have trouble sitting tomorrow," Lacey whispered, leaning forward to emphasize her point with a kiss to Rachel's clitoris.  Her nose was nestled in the fragrant patch of hair for just a moment before she backed away again.

All Rachel could do was laugh softly, feeling safe and protected, even as exposed as she was.  She reached down and combed her fingers through Lacey's dark bangs.  Her hips bucked forward slightly as a pointed tongue swiped gently along her opening.  She wasn't sure if Lacey was waiting for her approval, but gave it anyway.  "S'okay," she said softly, pressing her heels into the dark woman's muscular back.

It was a night of neediness and clinging, each one wanting so much from the other.  Their lovemaking was frantic and exhausting.  Through their time together, Rachel had learned a lot from Lacey and had even adopted some of her more interesting character traits, like drowning your emotions in passion.  They rivaled each other in their intense need to be lost in the moment.

It seemed to be hours later when they moved against each other slowly, exchanging kisses and running hands up sweaty and salty bodies.  Each was exhausted but reluctant to forego this last crescendo.  It was slow and sweet, accompanied by murmured words and rasping tongues.  They climaxed together, slicking the other's thigh with shared nectar, tasting the same fluid in each other's mouths from earlier explorations.

They lay quietly, wrapped in arms and legs and scented sheets, each breathing heavily.

"Your incision," Rachel murmured at last, trying to push away to look down to the spot in question.  Lacey's tight embrace wouldn't allow her to do so.

"It's okay."

"The bandage came off."

"Help me clean it in a minute.  Just stay here for now."

Though inclined to argue for her lover's safety, Rachel just didn't have it in her.  She snuggled more deeply into Lacey's warm embrace.

The dark woman's breathing seemed to hitch and the breath that was expelled on Rachel's shoulder was shuddering.

"No, no, baby," the blonde whispered, rubbing her arms up and down Lacey's sweat slicked back.  "Don't cry."  Oh God, please don't fall apart.  You're all that's holding me together.

"I'm sorry."

"Merry Christmas, Lace," Rachel whispered, trying so hard not to think of her lonely daughter and her doomed lover.  "Our first one together."

"Yeah.  It could be better, though, huh?"

"Could be worse, too.  We have to be thankful for this," meaning the two of them, entangled in love.

"How can you comfort me, Raich?  I know how much you're hurting."

"So are you," the smaller woman responded gently.  It was almost easier to concentrate on her lover's fears and pain than her own.  The change in focus allowed her not to cry this dark Christmas morning.

Lacey swallowed hard, consuming her grief with the motion, reaching a hand up to wipe at her moist cheeks.  The wetness was a combination of sweat, tears, and Rachel's passion.  She thought about that idly as she slipped her tongue out and slid it over her upper lip.  She tasted all three.

They didn't speak anymore, instead seeking comfort in supportive arms.  Later, they took a quick shower, protecting Lacey's stitches the best they could.  Rachel was just applying the dressing again to her somber lover seated on the bed when the morning's orange red rays sought entry into the room through the window blinds.

XXXXX

The first visit the condo received that morning was Sheriff Railer and a guest.  The two walked in without a true introduction, following Rico down the hall into the living room area where the rest of the condo had congregated.

"Ms. Wilson?" the sheriff said, spying the blonde in the kitchen.

Rachel turned and wiped her hands on a tea towel, tossing it back on the counter.  She walked forward, leaning her arms on the breakfast bar and eyeing the sheriff and his guest in the adjoining room.  "What can I do for you, Sheriff?"

The portly man looked at the young woman quietly for several long moments.  She looked worse each day: tired and drawn, dark circles under her eyes.  But she smiled for him.  "Mrs. Nelson came to my office this morning, she'd seen our signs for Molly and had heard of our search from some of the slope workers."

"Mrs. Nelson," Rachel leaned over the counter and extended her hand.  The woman stepped up and took the offering with a firm shake.

"Mrs. Nelson is with social services," the sheriff finished.

Rachel froze and withdrew her hand.

George turned on his heels and went to find Lacey.  She'd said she needed a run and had left with Karma nearly an hour ago.

"Pardon me?" Rachel said slowly.  "What can I do for you?"

"Maybe we should talk in private?" the woman suggested.  She was slightly taller than Rachel, her greying brown hair pulled back into a tight bun.  There was no sympathy in her pinched face.

Rachel shook her head.  "No.  I'd rather have everyone here."

Once they were all situated around the breakfast bar, the social worker cleared her throat.  "Whenever a child is missing under abnormal circumstances, it's the job of social services to visit with the family and determine if they've endangered the child.  It's important for us to make sure the home is a fit one where the child should be returned."

Rico and Mary turned their attention from the thin nosed social worker to the blonde woman standing next to them.  She'd declined a seat, preferring instead to fidget nervously from foot to foot.  Rachel remained silent though her mouth was slightly open as if she wanted to say something but nothing came out.

It was then that the front door opened and Karma came flying down the hallway.  The young dog immediately went to the newcomers and sniffed each thoroughly, going so far as to jump up on her hind legs and balance herself with one thin paw on the Sheriff's knee.  He brushed her off and it ridiculously angered Rachel.

Breathing hard, George and Lacey rounded the corner into the living room, each stopping as soon as they passed the threshold.

"What's going on here?" Lacey asked darkly, moving around the stomach high counter to her lover's side.  Rachel was trembling.

"Uh ... Lace, this is Mrs. Nelson.  She's with social services.  She's here to determine if we're a fit home for Molly."

"What?!" Lacey spun on the small woman, her eyes bright with anger.  Her sweatshirt and shorts were soaked clean through with her sweat, her bangs plastered against her forehead.  She looked more than slightly wild and on edge.

The woman raised her hands placatingly.  "That's not completely true.  I'm just doing a preliminary interview.  Social services in New York would have to do follow up work.  They would need to visit your home, see Molly's environment, observe how you interact with her.  I'm just providing some initial information for the case since I'm local."

"You're going to take Molly away from us because some asshole kidnapped her?" Lacey growled.  It took the gentle pressure of her lover's hand on her forearm to prompt her to take a step back.

"Not me, no," the woman said with a sigh, as if tired of the entire thing already.  "I'm just opening the case."

"This is bullshit!"

"Lace, baby," Rachel whispered.  "We need to cooperate.  The harder we make it on them, the harder they'll be on us."

"You can't take that little girl from us.  No one can take better care of her than us.  No one loves her more."

"Well, she's not even here to prove that point, is she?" Mrs. Nelson asked bluntly, opening a folder on the counter and spinning a pen in her nimble fingers.

Lacey was on the verge of exploding.  Her entire body shook with the effort to control herself.  Rachel turned to face her and put both hands on the taller woman's taut stomach, feeling the warmth of Lacey's skin through her soaked shirt.  Rachel stepped forward, pushing her lover gently across the kitchen until she was pinning the tall body against the counter.  She could feel the anger and darkness in a cloud around them.

"Baby," Rachel murmured.  "I can talk to her.  They have no reason to take her away from us."

"Let's see," Lacey whispered in a low growl.  "We're gay, I'm a killer, the money that supports us is mostly illegal."

"We're gay?" Rachel chided gently.  "Whoo.  News to me," she poked her lover gently in the ribs.  "Courts are more open to that these days.  Molly's father isn't in the picture trying to win custody.  It's us or the state.  They won't be able to argue with her living conditions and they won't want to shell out the bucks to raise her."

"Maybe.  What about the rest?"

"How easy is that to find out?"

The dark woman shrugged.  She swiped at her wet bangs with a large trembling hand, glancing over at the group across the room which was trying hard not to stare.  "Not very.  We were all covered pretty well.  Not much good to Vinnie if we're ducking warrants, ya know."

"So let me talk to this lady.  You go take a shower."

Lacey looked to her lover, seeing that she'd calmed down quite a bit.  Her expression was confident and her green eyes had lost some of the fear that had been there when Lacey'd first come inside.  "You sure?"

"Yeah," Rachel nodded.

The dark woman took a deep breath, calming her own rattled nerves.  Rachel had some valid points but the entire thing rubbed her the wrong way.  Here it was, Christmas morning, they were waiting for news on how to find their daughter, and this rigid woman strolls in here questioning their worth as Molly's parents.

"Okay," Lacey said at last.  "I'll make myself scarce.  I'd rather you not speak to her alone, but I'd probably throttle her."

Rachel grinned slightly.  "I'm sure Mary will sit with me."

In the end, it had been relatively painless.  Mary sat quietly next to Rachel, offering a surprising amount of support for someone who had remained so quiet throughout their entire relationship.  She even held Rachel's hand and patted her on the knee from time to time.

The pinched nosed social worker asked questions about their home, their jobs, Molly's school.  She asked for a recounting of the events that had led up to Molly's abduction and what had happened that day.

Rachel handled it well, even managed to be evasive about Lacey's history without being too obvious.  And, after what seemed forever, Mrs. Nelson announced she had enough preliminary information.  Lacey emerged from the shower dressed in jeans and a turtleneck, a white cotton towel draped over her shoulders, her black locks contrasting starkly where they fanned across the fabric.  She nodded to the sheriff and the social worker as they departed.  The room stood in silence.

"So," George said at last, looking around.  "I have a friend coming up from Denver today.  She's familiar with the area, I thought that may be useful when the message is delivered."

"Good idea," Lacey acknowledged, crossing to her lover and rubbing the smaller woman's back.  "You okay?"

"Yup," the blonde nodded, offering Lacey a smile.  "I'm okay.  Let's get to work, huh?"

XXXXX

The next person to arrive at the condo was George's friend.  She introduced herself as Ronnie and strode in purposefully.  She was a few inches taller than Rachel with short cropped blonde hair and round brown eyes.  She offered a smile to everyone and a familiar hug to George.

"It's good to see you," she said to him, smiling, sliding her hands down his arms to squeeze his hands.  Her cheeks and nose were freckled and tanned, this pattern of bronzed skin across her features and her lithe physique indicating she was a skier.

"Thanks for coming.  Especially on Christmas," George replied, applying gentle pressure to her hands before releasing them.

The woman shrugged.  "No big deal."

"How's the family?"

She grinned in a way that showed true humor and not just politeness.  "Same as always.  Ya know how it goes."

George turned her to the group now.  "Lacey and Rachel this is my friend Ronnie."

"Thank you," Rachel offered softly, shaking the offered hand, guessing the woman before her to be in her early twenties.

"All I can offer is to be a tour guide, really.  But I'll do my best at that."

"That may be all we need," Lacey smiled, stepping from behind her lover to shake the other woman's hand also.

George finished out the introductions with Rico and Mary, each shaking the blonde's hand in turn.

"What can I do?" Ronnie asked, looking at the faces around her.  They all looked drawn and drained.

George shrugged.  "We're mostly just waiting.  But when the message comes, we'd like you to take us to the meeting point early so we can check it out."

"If he gives us enough time to do that," Rico interjected.

Lacey nodded, "I think he will.  It would be more beneficial for him to do the exchange after dark.  Limits how we can respond."

George nodded his agreement.

"So," Rachel said softly, drawing their new guest's attention.  "How do you know George?"

Ronnie laughed, looked to George and then took Rachel's arm and dragged her towards the living room where they could sit down.

Mary followed out of curiosity and the others all congregated in the dining room, taking seats at the large oak table there.

"It was just by accident, really.  When I was in the military, I worked with a guy that went to school with George.  He was here visiting and the guy I worked with had a barbecue of some sort.  We met there, started talking geek computer crap, liked each other."

"He's a good man," Rachel observed softly.

Ronnie nodded.  "He's helped me quite a few times when I needed it, even mundane things like moving from one apartment to another.  He'd always make sure to check on me when he was in town visiting."

"Why do you think he called you instead of that other friend?" Mary asked, more to draw out the conversation than any real need to know.

Ronnie laughed gently, brown eyes sparkling.  "Let's just say I'm not as abrasive as he is."

"Do you celebrate Christmas?" Rachel inquired, trying to understand why this woman would come help complete strangers on a holiday.

"I do.  But my family is in Denver, too, and always has something bizarre going on.  This year my brother's getting divorced from his wife and they were both coming to Christmas dinner.  Believe me, I'm glad to be missing it," she shook her head in emphasis then looked up to meet Rachel's gentle emerald gaze.  "I'm very sorry for what happened.  I can't imagine what you're going through."

Rachel smiled weakly, trying not to let tears fall.  She'd been on the verge of crying all morning.  "I'm lucky to have the support of good friends.  Lacey's been great."

"Is she really going to trade herself today?" Mary asked softly.

Rachel nodded, unable to talk about it.

"Everything will work out," Rico's girlfriend assured gently, reaching out to rub Rachel on the arm.

"It better," the blonde chuckled faintly.  "Cuz I have one hell of a bone to pick if I lose either of them."

Ronnie watched the exchange silently, learning a lot from the brief words and expressions.  George had given her the basic run down when he'd called last night.  The opportunity to see her friend again had been reason enough for Ronnie to come up here, but really she was glad to be helping people that were so important to George.  And so obviously distraught.

It was still mid-morning when the ringing of the doorbell announced yet another visitor.  This was the one they'd been waiting for.  Lacey opened to the door to reveal a teenaged boy in a jester hat and snow pants.  He was scruffy and his face red with windburn.

"Yeah?" Lacey said, eyeing the boy up and down.  He was eyeing her as well and his cheeks reddened further with a blush as he apparently liked what he saw.  He remained silent.  "Can I help you?" the dark haired woman prompted.

"Oh," she startled him out of his not-so-subtle appreciation.  "A man gave me this to give to someone at this address."  He held out a large manila envelope.

Lacey took it slowly, glancing behind the boy to the street beyond.  It was empty.  "Where is he?"

"I don't know.  He came up to me on the slopes, said he'd give me two bills if I delivered this."

"Where are you meeting him for the money?"

"I'm not, he gave it to me ahead of time," the kid grinned, his teeth straight and white, thrilled at his good fortune.

"How did he know you wouldn't take the money and run?" Lacey asked, stepping out onto the small front porch and looking around more carefully.  They were probably being watched.

"Hey," the teenager looked affronted.  "I'm an honest person."

Lacey raised one dark eyebrow into her bangs, letting her ice blue gaze work wonders on the person in front of her.  Rachel and George stood quietly in the doorway, watching the scene on the front step.

"Well," he blushed.  "Guy said he would know and I shouldn't try anything."

The dark woman smiled and nodded.  "What did he look like?"

The boy shrugged.  "He was pretty tall.  Maybe as tall as you are.  He had on a hat so I didn't see his hair but he had a black goatee."

"Did you see his eyes?  What color were they?"

"He had on shades," the kid shook his head slowly.  "Didn't see anything else."

Lacey nodded in response, pursed her lips, and looked around one last time.  She heard a vehicle starting and turned towards the main road in time to see a car pull away and begin the journey back into Breckenridge.  She watched it quietly through the shroud of pine trees even as George shoved the kid aside and began to run towards the stairs.  He stopped mid-stride when the dark woman's hand clasped around his upper arm.

"Unh unh," she said softly.  "We play the game the way he wants it played.  She'll stay safe that way."

"Lace?" George asked uncertainly, still ready to jump in his rental car and be on his way.

"No," Lacey assured him, looking beyond the tall black man to her lover standing in the doorway hugging herself.  Their eyes met.  "Let's go inside and check this out," the dark-haired woman held up the envelope and tugged George with her.  She remembered to look over her shoulder to the teenager still watching them all.  "Thanks."

"Yeah.  Sure," he said awkwardly, shoving his hands into his jacket and trotting down the stairs.

XXXXX

Ronnie drove silently through Frisco, occasionally glancing at the two women in her back seat.  Everyone else had stayed at the condo, Lacey promising to call with a description as to how the trading place looked.

Rachel had wanted to sit in the front seat so Ronnie didn't appear to be a chauffeur but the young woman had insisted.  It was obvious how much the two needed to be together, to touch and feel one another, so she insisted that Rachel and Lacey both occupy the back seat.

Lacey held her lover's hand in a sure grip, their fingers intertwined.  Occasionally she brought their linked hands to her lips to kiss them.  Rachel didn't speak for fear of crying.

"This Castlewood Canyon Park ... you know where that is?" the dark woman asked, leaning forward towards Ronnie.  She still held Rachel's hand with one of her own while rubbing the smaller woman's thigh warmly with the other.

"Yeah.  It's between Denver and Colorado Springs, on a rural highway."

"Secluded?"

"Very," the driver agreed, nodding.

There were few words exchanged during the journey east on I-70 and through the Eisenhower Tunnel.  Lacey watched the passing scenery silently, the mountains white and icy, shrouded with frosted pine trees and jagged rocks.  The grip on her hand was nearing painful but she accepted it willingly as it was a way to feel her lover, know that she was there.

Silently they traveled through Idaho Springs, past the Boulder exit, towards Westminster.  Ronnie took the 470 loop around the edge of the city and through Englewood until it met with I-25 where they headed South, following the signs for Colorado Springs.

"How much longer?" Lacey asked after nearly an hour of silence.

"Twenty minutes, maybe.  We'll get off the highway up here at Castle Rock," she pointed towards the sprawled outlet stores just appearing around a bend.  "Go East for a little while."

As described, they left the highway, the small sedan turning and going back over the highway, framing the diminishing Rockies in the rear window.  Lacey and Rachel both looked over their shoulders at the receding view, astonished by the magnificent sight of snow draped mountains as far as the eye could see.

"Cool, huh?" Ronnie asked softly.

"Yeah," Rachel agreed.

"It's the best in the morning, with the rising sun reflecting off the snow."

"Sounds beautiful," Rachel nodded slowly.

"Reason enough to stick around, anyway," the driver responded with an easy grin.

State Highway 85 took them directly East of Castle Rock until the met up with an even smaller town that boasted a welcome sign for Franktown.  Ronnie stopped at the single light and pointed to her left.  "That's where everyone will meet us this afternoon," she indicated a gas station that looked very much like a Mom and Pop operation.

Ronnie turned right onto State Highway 83, picking up speed to the posted limit of 65 and winding through a slight incline where the shoulders of the road met with sheer rocky slopes.  The highway had obviously been sliced right through part of the foothills and emerged, around a bend, on a gently sloping plateau.  Ronnie slowed her car and indicated right, turning into the entrance of Castlewood Canyon State Park.

It looked like little more than a field with a gate on it.  There was nothing but a sign with a brown background to indicate that this rolling prairie belonged to the state.  The entrance was barred off with long metal gates and Ronnie stopped in front of them.

The wind was harsh here, whipping down the mountainside and across the plains to actually rock the small vehicle from side to side.  The tall yellow grass waved with the wind, winking in the sunlight and dancing to a beat nature provided.  It was absolutely quiet and serene, a pasture of horses across the two lane highway and a herd of cattle a little farther up the road.  The only house in view was a mile or so distant and placed well back from the road.  There wasn't another car in sight.

"Good place," Lacey mused approvingly.  "What's in the park?"

"Dunno, never been," Ronnie shrugged her shoulders.  "I'm more impressed with the mountains than the windswept plains," she grinned.  "I used to work in the Springs and live in Denver with my mom.  I traveled this way all the time."

"Is it always quiet like this?" Lacey asked, turning slowly to take in their surroundings.

"Yeah," Ronnie nodded.  "What were the instructions?"

"Said a mile South of the park entrance," Lacey pulled out her copy of the neatly typed letter, having to disentangle her hand from Rachel's sure clutch.

"Yeah," Ronnie nodded, remembering.  "There's a place up there where the highway widens.  Trucks park there sometimes ... I'm not sure what it's really for."

"Is it a good place for this kind of thing?"

"Definitely.  This area is so secluded, rarely any vehicles coming one way or the other."

"Other roads?"

"Hmmm," Ronnie shifted her weight to turn and watch the two women in her back seat.  Rachel was quiet and pale, rubbing sweaty palms on her jeans.  Lacey was cool and self-assured, assessing the situation with professional attention to detail.  The dark woman's hair was french braided neatly, leaving the tail to fall under the collar of her leather trench coat.  She looked every bit the calmly confident expert as sky blue eyes read over the note yet another time.  Ronnie knew the tall woman had already memorized the words.  Those eyes looked up and Ronnie realized she hadn't yet answered the question.  She blushed, grinned sheepishly.  "Highway 85 is the first turn off North that isn't into a development of some sort.  That's the road we took from Castle Rock.  Farther East it goes through Elizabeth, another one horse town.  Well, actually, they have quite a few horses but just the one traffic light," she smiled good-naturedly.  "South, the first real road is probably a good five miles down, called Lake Gulch.  I've never been down that road but it wraps back around to the highway, I think."

"So both ways go to the highway?"

"Yeah."

"You could go North and double back South?"

"Pretty easily," Ronnie acknowledged.

Lacey pursed her lips and took a deep breath.

"There's just the one road though, Lace," Rachel said softly, surprising both of the other women by joining the conversation.  "We could cut him off, get you back."

She shook her head slowly, catching her lover's hand again and squeezing it warmly.  "And force a hostage situation.  Not a good idea.  Best plan is to let him take me, get comfortable, let his guard down.  Then George and Rico can use the tracker to come in and get me out while he's not paying attention."

"He has a lot of heat, Lacey.  Wherever he takes you will be guarded.  Remember all those pictures of people I recognized?"

"Baby," Lacey murmured.  "Trust in me?  Okay?"

"I do," the blonde sniffled, oblivious to their quiet audience in the front seat.

Lacey framed her lover's pale face in large warm hands.  "I'm trying to work out the best way to minimize injuries, including my own.  Forcing our hand here is not a brilliant plan.  You get Molly and you guys go to someplace safe.  Then we work on getting me out and dealing with my brother."

"Are you nervous about seeing him?" Rachel asked suddenly, realizing that Lacey was about to meet her childhood face to face.

Lacey smiled, placing a gentle kiss on her lover's lips.  The young woman's sensitivity touched her.  "A little bit.  But I already know he's not the kid I left behind all those years ago.  My Jeremy never would have done something like this."

Rachel nodded and leaned forward to embrace the tall woman.  She moved a hand to cup Lacey behind the head, running her fingertips down the tight braid where it hugged her companion's skull.  She remembered easily how it had felt to wrap those silken strands into the plait only hours before.  She loved to touch her lover like that, accomplish familiar things like brushing her hair or painting her nails.  Lacey succumbed to it with just a little protesting, secretly loving the attention but outwardly scoffing at such lavishness.  This morning she'd practically melted into Rachel's gentle touch.

After they parted and resumed holding hands, Lacey requested Ronnie take them to the section of road where the meeting would actually take place.  Once there, the tall dark woman unfolded herself from the back seat to stand on the side of the highway.  A lone car whizzed past them, easily doing seventy.

Lacey stood silently, hands in pockets, the long tails of her coat whipping in the wind and slapping against her denim clad legs.  She was glad her hair was braided, the restriction preventing anything but a few tendrils from tickling her cheeks and forehead.  She spun slowly on her heel, taking in the wide expanse of dried grassland and the mountains behind.  The sun was bright and it would actually have been warm if not for the gales that made Lacey squint.  Tumbleweeds tangled in barbed wire, fighting for freedom and then rolling quickly across the road into the next fence it met.

Rachel crawled out of the sedan, walking behind it to stand next to her lover.  The darker woman looked majestic here, facing the wind, coat billowing.  The planes of her face caught the mid day sun, highlighting prominent cheekbones and accentuating sapphire eyes.  "You're beautiful," Rachel murmured, tucking her arm through Lacey's and joining her perusal of their surroundings.

Her comment was rewarded with a fond look and a warm smile.  "Thank you," the dark woman murmured.

"What do you think?" the blonde asked hesitantly.

"I think the plan stays the same.  We'll come back here just before five.  You'll have Molly with you tonight, baby."

"I want you both," Rachel said petulantly, realizing she sounded like a spoiled child.  She glanced apologetically to her lover.

"Soon," Lacey assured her, rubbing the smaller woman's back with a large warm hand.  "We have about five hours to kill.  What do you want to do?"

XXXXX
 

Concluded in Part 5
 

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