I'm in the chapel, marveling at how different it looks from just a month ago. Now that we're in February, I'm finally feeling better about our living situation, and I can appreciate the unique beauty of the compound.

Mostly though, the memory of the huge granite stone in the chapel keeps tickling my mind, and I came in here today to see if the stone was just as remarkable as I remember. I'm not an exercise enthusiast or martial artist like the rest of the family, so I don't come in here that often.

But when I woke up this morning, I had an image in my mind, the green flecks of the emerald crystals from the granite gleaming mellowly in morning sunlight. They reminded me of Nathan's eyes, and I decided to check out the rock again after breakfast.

Which is why I'm here now, looking at the stone under the powerful beam of one of our flashlights. Katrina and the others like keeping the chapel lit only by natural light, they say it helps them with the reality of their training. I don't quite understand it, but that's why I brought the flashlight, I need to get a really good look at the stone.

It's amazing, just as flawless as I thought, although I think the line of what looks like maybe quartz through the center runs in a jagged diagonal that wouldn't let me carve the whole stone in one piece, but that's okay. I've never done stone so big before, and I think I'd like to use smaller pieces anyway.

“What're you seeing?” Andrea asks as she comes up next to me. “I saw the door open, and thought maybe Katrina and Nathan were in here getting ready for their throwdown.”

“Are they doing that today?” I ask, surprised. They'd talked a little about it, but both of them know I don't have the stomach to think of either of them being hurt. Still, if they're going to fight, then I'll be here to watch, I love them both too much to avoid it. “Did they figure out rules?”

“I’m sure they worked it out. It’s more of a spar anyway. I think they're both going to avoid actually hurting each other, and Jackson's going to act as a ref just in case,” Andrea replies, kneeling down next to me and examining the stone. She gives me a long look before speaking again. “You okay with it?”

“Not really,” I admit, running my hands over the stone, “but I won't ask them to stop. There's no point. They've been wondering who's better for six months now. And they're healthy, I guess. At least Katrina isn't ready to kill him anymore.”

“Those little walk dates you two have been doing have certainly helped there,” Andrea says before stopping, rubbing her stomach. “Whoa, settle down there, baby.”

“What's wrong?” I ask, immediately concerned. “It's too soon for you to be feeling the baby kick.”

“No, no... just a bit of indigestion. I’ll be fine, don't worry. Tell me what you're seeing in this rock here.”

“I'm not sure,” I admit. “But with the size, it's too much for me to handle at once. I was thinking maybe breaking it up, chunks about the size of a football or a little bit bigger, and then working with that.”

Andrea nods, then takes a look at the stone. “Do you want to smash it up now?”

I blink, stunned. “What?”

My sister gives me a grin in reply and nods. “Come on, we've got the tools, right? We can get the other tools so you can shape it later. So can we crack it?”

“I think,” I say, excitement growing within me. “Do you really think the two of us could do it?”

“Damn straight we could. Come on, if we need some grunt labor we can get Carson involved, too. Besides, the worst that can happen is we crack this thing up and you don't have any good pieces. But knowing you, I could hand you a chunk the size of my hand and you'd come up with a beautiful piece.”

I nod and get up, excitement going through me. “Okay, let's do it.”

* * *

“What a giant mess.”

Andrea and I look up, sweat running down our faces and grin as Carson surveys the damage we've caused to the large block of granite. “Yeah, cool, isn't it?”

“If you say so,” Carson says, shrugging. “Andrea, are you sure you should be exerting yourself so much?”

“I'm making sure she doesn't overdo it, Carson,” I reply, wiping my forehead. “Besides, we just need to crack this thing, not break it up totally.”

“And you think you can do it?” he asks, watching as I lift the sledge up and let it drop onto the cold chisel. That's the key to my work, just letting the weight of the hammer do the work for me. It's slower than trying to muscle it down, but it works.

“I think so,” I say as I drop the hammer again, where it smacks the top of the chisel, driving it another small bit. “The line of quartz is our first key. From the little bit I remember about rocks, that sort of flaw is a weak point, and probably why it wasn't used before for other work. It's too inconsistent for structural loads.”

“It's been a long time since you did stone carving,” Carson reminds me. “And that was marble.”

“That's okay, we're just exploring to see if there's potential here,” Andrea replies, giving a smile. “If that's okay?”

Carson huffs, but nods. “Of course it is. Just... mind if I watch? I don't need either of the two most special women in my life getting hurt fucking around with a big rock.”

“Hmm, he thinks we're special,” Andrea wisecracks as she steps back and lets me swing the hammer again. My shoulders ache from lifting it over and over, but I seem to be able to get more progress with this than I did with splitting wood. The chisel bites deep this time, and there's a cracking sound deep within the stone. “Sugoi, oneechan!”

“Thanks,” I reply, smiling as I set down the big sledge. “I think that's enough for today though, don't you?”

“Are you sure?” Andrea asks, her enthusiasm driving her. “I mean, we can get a chunk off if we go at it hard and...”

“And I think 'Lissa has a point, my love,” Carson says, his voice gentle but firm as he puts his hands on Andrea's shoulders. “Exercise is good for you, but you don't need to throw out your back trying to break off a chunk of rock before 'Lissa even knows what she wants to do with it, okay?”

“Yes sir,” Andrea says immediately, her mood not so much dimming as shifting.

“It's not that I don't appreciate your helping 'Lissa, Andrea,” Carson says softly, taking her in his arms and kissing her sweaty forehead. “I just don't want you to hurt yourself. We can take our time with it. I know 'Lissa, when she's burning with inspiration, she'll have us all out here taking turns smacking this rock until it breaks. Isn't that right, 'Lissa?”

“He's right,” I admit. “I've had a lot fun cracking this rock with you though. Come on, let's clean up for this sparring session tonight.”

* * *

“Okay guys, remember this is just for fun. Respect each other and respect my commands. You ready?” Jackson asks, slightly nervous as he looks from side to side. We've actually lit the chapel up tonight, Carson and Andrea sitting together with BA between them and munching on some popcorn for entertainment while I sit on the other side, chewing my fingernails nervously. I don't want either of them to get hurt, and my stomach is in knots, but I can't look away as Katrina bows to Nathan, who nods his head respectfully in return. “Then fight!”

I thought the fight would start out like a kung fu movie, with dramatic moves and lots of spinning and dodging. Instead, Katrina and Nathan both come out, their hands up a little bit but just circling constantly. Nathan's got some height on her, but I don't think either is worried about the extra three inches or so.

Katrina flicks out a left punch, and Nathan casually slaps it away while throwing a little kick toward Katrina's knee that she knocks away easily. Suddenly they're both in motion, a blurring mix of bodies that I can only see because Nathan is wearing all white while Katrina is in her typical black. Nathan has Katrina and goes to throw her, but she twists somehow in the air, landing on her back but not with the concussive impact I expect. Instead she throws Nathan, who rolls easily, and both of them are back on their feet, back to circling.

“Impressive,” Carson comments, chewing some popcorn. “Nice job, guys!”

“Shut up, Carson,” I half-growl, earning a surprised glance from everyone as I stare at the two people in the middle of the mat. Even Katrina and Nathan glance over quickly before resuming their fight, this time tumbling together to the mat. Nathan flips somehow, keeping Katrina with him, and his elbow is digging into the back of her neck, his hand cocked to deliver what looks like a fatal blow.

“No,” I gasp, fear gripping my stomach, and Nathan glances up, his hand relaxing just enough that he instead slaps Katrina in the back of the head. Katrina doesn't realize that he’s given her mercy, and instead rolls herself, her legs coming up and trapping Nathan's right shoulder in some sort of lock that wrenches his arm deep behind his body, and she sits up. Before she can though, Nathan grunts and slaps the mat, surrendering.

“All right, that's it!” Jackson says, putting his hand on Katrina's shoulder to stop the action. “He tapped out, Katrina.”

Katrina stops and lets go of Nathan's arm, rolling backward and to a standing position. Nathan climbs off the mat and shakes out his arm. “Good job, you caught me with a good one.”

Katrina smiles, and reaches out to shake hands, but Nathan's having none of it, hugging Katrina and then kissing her on the cheek.

“You sure you don't want to go another round?” Katrina asks, and Nathan shakes his head, still with that little half-smile on his face. “Well then, maybe we can do some training together sometime soon? Please?”

“That's a promise,” Nathan says, hugging her again before leaving the chapel. Katrina watches him for a moment before pulling her gloves off and picking up BA, everyone celebrating her victory.

* * *

I wake up from my sleep, escaping a nightmare of nameless, dark dread. It's not like my normal nightmare, but this time the sense of loss is sharper, more immediate and closer somehow. I'm not sure what it all means though, and as I sit up, panting and sweating, I'm more disturbed than with my normal dreams. With them, once my initial panic wears off, I feel shame and anger with myself. This dream though... I'm not ashamed, but for some reason I'm still afraid.

I get out of bed, shivering slightly as I reach for my heavy sweatshirt. The new furnace may be working, but to save propane we keep the thermostat very low, only just above fifty degrees.

I slide my feet into my slippers and head toward the big room, hoping that a little bit of watching the fire might help calm my nerves. I'm surprised to find Nathan sitting up, his own eyes watching the firelight as he sips at some sort of amber liquid. “Nathan?”

He looks up, giving me a half-smile and setting down his glass. “Hi. Sorry we didn't take a walk tonight. After my little sparring match with Katrina, I just was not feeling up to it.”

“That's okay,” I reassure him, sitting down on the couch next to him and taking his hand. I pick up his glass, shocked when I smell nothing. “I guess I owe you an apology. I thought this was liquor.”

“Nope, just the last of my emergency stash of good tea. Sorry I hid it before, I was saving it for a special occasion. I guess my first loss in a straight-up fight in twenty years is a good enough occasion. I have some more, would you like a glass?” Nathan asks.

I shake my head. “No thanks. So what has you up?”

“Like I said, I lost. That should be enough to make any warrior spend a bit of time in self-reflection, don't you think?” he asks, looking into the fire. “What's got you up? Another nightmare?”

“A different one, but more disturbing. I wish I could remember it, but it just felt more... I dunno,” I say, shivering. “It felt closer, that's all.”

Nathan slides closer and puts his arm around my shoulders, holding me close. It's so nice, feeling his warm body against mine, and I hum happily, leaning against him. “I’m not sure if new bad dreams are a good or bad thing, but I’ll be happy to help you with them either way,” he says, rubbing my arm. “I also owe you a thank you. For watching my match today.”

“I had to. I love you both,” I tell him, looking up into his haunted eyes. “Is that why you're so troubled? That you threw the fight?”

“What do you mean?” Nathan asks, looking down into my face with a small smile. “Why do you think I would throw the fight?”

“I don’t know a thing about fighting and I saw it. I saw you had Katrina helpless, and that one hit could have knocked her out, maybe even killed her,” I say softly. “And I said no.”

“I don't know what you mean,” Nathan says, his eyes shifting.

“Oh come on, you let up,” I repeat, putting my hand on his chest, where I can feel his heart hammering under my fingers. “I bet you've never done that before, not to the point of losing.”

Nathan smirks, acknowledging the truth, and shakes his head. “No, I haven’t. Seems I’m getting soft, and if you want to know the honest truth, that is what's got me up. I can’t be soft right now. If there’s ever been a time to not be soft, it’s now.”

“Why?” I ask, and Nathan takes my hand, looking at me intently, the firelight dancing in his eyes.

“Because I can’t bear the thought of losing you,” he says softly, his face coming closer to mine. I lean in, raising my mouth, and suddenly his lips brush against mine. We freeze for a moment, then our kiss deepens, and for the first time since high school, I'm kissing a man, and it's a man that I care for.

Nathan's hands wrap around my back, pulling me to him, and I move with instincts I don't even know I have, climbing into his lap and straddling him, running my hands through his hair and letting my tongue reach out, seeking entrance and acceptance from him, the man I love. His tongue touches mine and I moan, my body alive with desire and want, desire I've never felt before. “Oh, Nathan... yes...”

Suddenly, underneath me, Nathan freezes, pushing me back carefully but firmly, lifting me off of him. I slide off, confused as Nathan gets up, his face a mask of horror. “Melissa... oh God, I’m so sorry...”

“Sorry for what?” I ask, confused again. “I... I thought you were enjoying yourself.”

“I was… but I can't!” he half-yells, his eyes anguished. “Can't you see that? I'm stained! And how can I promise to protect you and guard you when I can’t even control my own desires?”

I nod, looking down at my hands. I get up, walking toward him, and he backs up, his eyes panicked as I come closer. “Nathan, please,” I beg him softly, reaching out and cupping his cheek. “Please, don't run away. If being pure means not being able to have you, to not be able to be with you, to not be able to love you, then I don't want to be pure. I want to be with you, I want to love you. I want to hear you say you love me, too. Since that night, I've had good dreams too, you know. Dreams where you tell me that you love me, and then, well…”

Nathan stops, frozen, and I take my chance, courage coming from somewhere I didn't even know existed inside me until this second. I kiss him again softly, standing on my tiptoes and then step back, not smiling, but not frowning. “I love you, Nathan Black. And sometime soon, I want us to be together, whatever that means.”

Nathan looks up at the ceiling above us, then down into my eyes. “I love you, Melissa Sands. But right now... I need to be certain my mind is up to the task at hand. The consequences are too dire.”

I nod, and give him a smile. “I can wait. I've waited nearly thirty-one years for the man I can love with all that I have. I can wait longer if I have to.”

Without waiting for Nathan to reply I walk back to my bedroom, surprised to see Katrina sitting on my bed. “Sorry,” she whispers as I close my door. “I woke up to pee, and saw the two of you talking. I didn't mean to eavesdrop.”

“That's okay. Promise me you're not going to threaten to kick his ass again?” I ask, and Katrina chuckles.

“Considering I had to win by him letting me? No thanks,” she says softly, giving me a smile. “Don't worry, this stays between you and me. It was nice to hear him be a little emotional. That’s rare.”