"Hey, Alex, what the hell's this?"

Jeri wandered into the living room of the new house holding a kitten in one hand and a white sash with gold trim in the other.  Alex came in from supervising the unloading of her veterinary equipment into her new surgery, dusting her hands in an unconscious reaction to the manner in which she'd 'supervised'.  She shook her head as Jeri searched for a place to deposit the errant kitten, and ended up stuffing it back into her lab coat pocket, where it proceeded to finish the kneading job that had prompted Jeri to take it out in the first place.  Her hands free, Jeri squinted to read the printing on the sash, and Alex strode over to snatch it out of her grasp.

"Hey!" the young vet protested, "Gimme that!  Alex, I didn't know you were into equestrian competition...?"

"I'm not," the vet said flatly.  At Jeri's guileless inquiry, Alex sighed, but a smile framed her lips as she recalled the events of a day almost a year in the past now.  "It was... more of a momento.  From a good friend."

Jeri mouthed a large "Oh" and Alex scowled.  "Now back to work, serf!  To the dungeon with you!"

"Yessuh, boss-lady-master, ma'm-suh..."

Properly obsequious, Jeri scuttled out the door and left Alex to her memories, patchy and scratchy as they were.  She stood there for a moment, in the middle of new wooden floors with packing boxes and covered furniture scattered t random, and contemplated her life now with what could have... might have been.  Her hand crept into her pocket and drew out a hard copy of a letter she'd received the other day.
 

September 9, 2002

Dear Alex,

It's been a while, hasn't it?  I know I've been guilty of not writing you sooner, but I often wonder if you'd welcome a letter -- whether you still think of me, or if you'd rather not be reminded.  Silly, eh?  Perhaps you don't want to hear this, but I think of you.

So I'll keep this short, for now.  Mars life seems to have agreed with me so far.  I've found a vet can be quite useful up here, and I'm by now means the first, surprise, surprise!  Marvellous what a person can turn their hands to when necessary, and I'm actually getting a lot of research work done, something I've always dreamed of 'finding time' to do.

I see Julie Parrish quite often in her work as a medical doctor -- broken heart and all that!  Of course, it's a little difficult to not bump into someone here on Mars.  There's only so many tunnels and domes at the moment.  I like her, Alex.  I guess she reminds me of you in a way, although she doesn't have your... feisty approach to a lot of things.  I miss that, I really do.

But this is threatening to get sentimental.  On this transmission you should find a birthday card -- it is the ninth, isn't it?  I hope you had a great time.  Need I remind you it will be your 48th...?  No, guess not.  I figured I was safe enough saying that from so many billion kilometres.

With warmest wishes always,

Your friend,

Nick.
 

Alex read the letter through for the fifth time, very carefully, then scrunched the paper in on itself and aimed it for the bin.  It missed.  With mixed emotions she scooped it up and placed it and the memories firmly in the wastepaper basket.  She took a deep breath, stood up straight and stared at nothing in particular.

"Alex... "

"Argghhh!!!  Jesus, Tash, don't do that to me."

Tash Petersen looked unworried, but grinned and handed her friend a gift-wrapped box, staring around with her usual economical gaze at the Tyler's new place.  "Nice.  Real nice."

"And I'd like to enjoy it into my fifties, thanks very much.  A few more visits of yours and I won't make it."

Tash snorted.  The lean woman shrugged out of her designer jacket with a sigh of relief, casting it across a piece of furniture in a manner that gave Alex a twinge of deja vu (which she disregarded, since she got a lot of those these days).

"Coffee...?" Tash asked hopefully, stretching stiff muscles.

"You," Alex told her, heading into the kitchen, "are spending too much time at a desk."

"All part of becoming 'respectable'," Tash said wryly.  "Field work no longer holds that certain je ne se quoix."

"You watch it, Tash Petersen," Alex sang out, "every up-and-coming hotshot in that place is gonna want a piece of you if you keep this up."

"They have already. I've beaten up four new recruits in as many weeks.  It's getting boring."

Alex laughed her appreciation (she would have liked to do the same thing to the removalists) and brought two cups of steaming coffee into the lounge room.  There were things which had been improved upon in the last fifteen years, and a super-dooper-almost-instant-boil kettle was one of them.  For all those times when she really needed a cup of coffee.  Which was often.  As she told Tash, if coffee had suddenly been done away with, she would have staged a boycott of the whole goddamn world right there and then.  Some things had to remain sacred.  Tash relieved her of the packet of biscuits she carried in her mouth, and accepted the cup with thanks.  Alex flopped down next to her on the lounge and grabbed the packet back, intent on stuffing as many as possible down her throat.

"So.  Tell me.  How was the...  vacation?  The six week vacation?"

"Wonderful.  We saw the sights.  Of the world.  Didn't realize it was so close these days."

"And... ?" Tash grinned.

"And we had a great time."

"Don't jerk this little black duck around, kiddo.  And... ?"

Alex couldn't contain her grin any longer.  "And we're getting married."

She grunted in satisfaction.  "About time."

"You force it outta me," Alex grumbled through a half-chewed mouthful of biscuit, "and that's all the congratulations I get?"

"Congratulations," she allowed grudgingly.

"I'd thump you but you might spill the coffee on the new sofa.  And you might thump me back."

"Well, it is about time.  I don't know how you managed to resist his charms this long."

"It took a lot of effort, but... " Alex grinned smugly at her friend.  "He got down on one knee," she confided.

"Get outta here!"

"Well, I made him do it," she conceded, "I didn't think her would."

"Gee, that man would do anything for you.  One knee, huh?"

The front door whizzed open and a jocular voice called out: "Hi honey, I'm home!... I've always wanted to say that..."  Ham ambled into the living room, spotted Tash and his cheery smile collapsed into a sour glance.  "Petersen," he snapped, "Take a hike."

Before Alex could say a word, Tash, knowing the advantages of strategic withdrawal, put down the coffee cup, bid farewell to Alex, picked up her jacket, and took a hike.

Tyler raised that well-remembered eyebrow as he shrugged out of his now worn denim jacket and tossed it over a piece of furniture.  It made Alex laugh but she didn't explain herself to his questioning look.  Instead, she pulled a long face and said in a disappointed tone, "You frightened Tash away."

"I doubt it."

Alex grinned.  "Yeah.  Soul of discretion, isn't she?"

"A good soldier," Ham agreed evenly.

"You're not... attracted to her?" Alex asked, moving closer to him and running her fingers up his chest, her eyes wide and solemn.  "I mean, here you are, first day back on the job, separated from your betrothed for a whole eight hours... working so closely with Tash... could get mighty tough on you..."

Tyler accepted her advances, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ears and wipe a chocolaty smudge off the corner of her mouth, but his eyes matched her serious expression with only a faint twinkle.  "She's like a son to me," he explained, "it would be incestuous."

Alex laughed and pulled him towards the bedroom.  "C'mere, Ham Tyler, I'll show you incestuous," she promised.  Tyler began to smile.

"What will the kids think?"

"They'll think it's a good time to go dust their teachers' erasers for a change.  Or they'll get an education."

"Ahhh."

"Mmm."

"Alex... ?"

"Mmmm?"

He was quiet a while as he undressed her, one piece of clothing at a time and with a slow, methodical approach that could drive Alex to distraction.

"Nothing."

He seemed so open, so clear and uncomplicated now, and vulnerable as he frowned in concentration over a particularly stubborn button.   She came to his aid, eased the shirt off and applied herself to the removal of the jumper she'd bought him in New Zealand, only a few weeks ago, enjoying the feel of soft angora wool and the pleasing patterns and colours as she slipped it over his head.  She tossed it aside.

He rested his hands on her shoulders, and simply studied her a while with an intensity which characterized his lovemaking.  She'd long since stopped being disconcerted by his familiarity with her body, the way he knew just how to touch her, knew every little scar and mark.  Once she'd gotten used to it, she decided she quite liked it, especially when he did something that she hadn't even realized she liked.  She felt herself responding to his mood, and her arms went around his neck, drawing him down to the floor.

"Did I ever tell you," she murmured, "that I love you, Ham Tyler?"

"You... may have done," he said huskily, placing a well-aimed kiss on her forehead, "Once or twice."
 

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