"He's right," Ice commented softly, speaking for the first time since the meeting started. "If you try to shut her down by withholding needed services, she'll only go somewhere else for them and you'll lose the only excuse you have to keep an eye on her from up close."

"Then what do we do?" Mary asked her.

The entire table looked at Ice. Myself included. Even without knowing anything of her past, all you had to do was stand in her presence for more than a second to know, with absolute certainty, that this was a woman who got things done. A woman who had the answers, even if you didn't want to hear them. Even if you didn't know what the question was to begin with.

She met each of our gazes in turn, long fingers trailing over the tabletop. After a long moment, she spoke. "If it were up to me, I'd teach Millicent Harding Post exactly what it means to mess with one of my friends." Her voice got that dark and dangerous edge that never failed to raise the hairs on the back of my neck. I could see the same reaction in my friends around the table as well. "But it isn't up to me. It's up to Pop. And until he can't speak for himself anymore, I, for one, am gonna abide by what he says." Then she met Pop's gaze squarely, her expression unmistakable. "For now."

Nodding his understanding, Pop turned to look at the rest of us. "Look. I didn't say I was rulin out any one of your ideas. Just need some time ta think on 'em is all. Things ain't the way they used ta be when I was some younger." He paused for a very long stretch of time, then continued, his gaze fixed on the table. "I killed a man once. I killed men in the War, yeah, but this was the first one I did just 'cause I was angry. The first one I looked in the eyes when I done it." He shook his head, his eyes long ago and far away.

"He was thinkin' ta force his attentions on Maggie, my wife. And when he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer, he said he'd show 'er." He laughed. "Well, I showed him. I showed 'im just what it means to a man ta see his wife in danger. Bout damn near ripped his head of his shoulders. I meant ta kill him, and that's just what I did."

When he looked up again, his eyes were ancient seers of a distant past. "Learned a lot about myself between then and now. And one of the things I learned is that I c'n take a lot more when it's comin at me than when it's comin' at someone I care about. So all I can ask of ya is ta let me do some thinkin. She ain't goin nowhere, an neither am I. Deal?"

Nods around the table.

He nodded right back. "Alright then. Guess it's about time we busted up this little shindig. Tomorrow's chores ain't gonna wait for us."

And that ended the meeting. Chairs scraped against the wooden floor as seats were pushed out and people rose to their feet, stretching out weary bodies. There was very little talk as our guests excused themselves and walked out into the cool darkness of the late spring night. As I waved to them, I searched the darkness for a glimpse of Corinne, but she was nowhere within my sight.

Ice came up behind me and laid a hand on my shoulder. "Go ahead and hunt her down. She's probably by the water. I'll stay here and clean up."

"Are you sure? I could ... ."

"Nah. G'wan down. I think she needs someone to talk to, and you're better at that than I am."

Grinning, I squeezed the hand that still lay on my shoulder. "I dunno. You seem to be softening up just a little in your advancing years." Then winced as the hand became a vice on my flesh, fingers digging in just enough to give me a glimpse of the somewhat astounding physical strength I knew was there but didn't always see. "Uncle!" I cried, though she wasn't hurting me.

The grip relaxed, but didn't release, and the next thing I knew, I was being spun around, held firmly, and kissed so soundly that the room around me also began to spin.

And then I was alone as my lover retreated back within the depths of the cabin.

Ice soft?

Never in a million years.

Corinne was exactly where Ice had said she would be. Sitting on the dock, her back propped against one of the tall wooden supports, staring out over the night-dark water. It was still a little too early in the season for the frogs to be singing chorus, and the only sounds were the gentle lapping of waves against the wood of the dock and the gentle, but somehow mournful, wind as it blew through the pines and sent ropes hitting against aluminum boat masts.

What little moon there was highlighted the silver in her hair. She turned slightly as she heard me coming and gave me a wan little smile, suddenly looking far older than her stated age. My heart squeezed a little at that. It hurt to see her looking frail, this strong woman I so loved.

"Did Ice send you out to find me?"

Smiling, I walked out onto the dock and lowered myself to sit cross-legged next to her. "Nah. She just gave me a likely starting point. I came here on my own." I laid a hand on her arm. "Did the fresh air help?"

"Not as much as you might think."

"I'm sorry, Corinne."

"Nothing to be sorry for, Angel. I don't normally lose my temper like that, as you well know." She turned her head to look over the water again. "I was incarcerated for so long that I think I forgot what it was like to fight for justice on the outside." Her voice was soft, and a touch sad. "In prison, meting out justice was a simple thing. Do unto others. And if that doing got you some time in solitary, well, that was only the accepted manner of things. Out here," she held out an arm, encompassing everything, "things aren't so simply undertaken. Meetings by committee. Democracy. Strategy sessions." She laughed, softly. "Sometimes I wonder whether I wasn't happier in the Bog."

She must have felt my reaction to that statement, because she turned to me and held my face in her hands. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded, Angel. I love you. I love Ice. And I love the life you're allowing me to share with the two of you." She smiled. "Don't be bothered by the crazed ramblings of an old woman. We're not known for making sense in the best of times."

Returning her gentle smile, I caressed the backs of her hands with my own. "I love you Corinne. We both do. You've made such a difference in our lives and I don't know what either one of us would have done without you. So please don't put yourself down or call yourself old and crazy. To me, you'll always be one of the most wonderful women I've ever known. Bad temper and all."

Leaning in, she kissed me softly on the lips, then pulled away, smiling. "If Ice didn't already have your heart, Angel ... ."

Not letting her get away with it, I pulled her into a tight hug and kissed a still-smooth cheek. Then, releasing her, I stood up. "You gonna come back to the house?"

"In a bit. It's a nice night out. I think I'll watch the water and do some thinking."

"Alright. Goodnight, Corinne."

"Goodnight, sweet Angel. Sleep well."

"You too."

On my way back to the cabin, I could hear the soft, soothing strains of music as it filtered through the speakers Ice had set up outside the house. Which was at definite odds with the sounds of flesh hitting canvas and a chain squealing out its anger over the abuse.

Rounding the corner, I took in the sight of Ice working off the day's frustrations on the heavy-bag which hung from beneath the roof. She had on a pair of gray shorts which clung to her body like a snake's second skin and a matching sweatshirt cut off at the midriff and shoulders, displaying her sculpted body wonderfully to my appreciative eyes.

Her movements were tight, precise, controlled, yet also had an almost balletic, wild and free air to them, somewhat akin to a big cat's stealthy stalking of a potential meal.

A quick double-kick, first low, then almost impossibly high, was immediately followed by a fist, and then an elbow to the middle of the canvas bag, rocking it wildly on its chain anchor.

A spinning kick, a flurry of punches too quick and too numerous to count, and a final thundering kick that almost blew the cabin off its foundation, and she came to absolute stillness, her body covered with a fine sheen of sweat, but her lungs heaving not at all.

Opening her eyes, she saw me and smiled, then reached down and grabbed a towel that was lying on the ground beyond my sight, wiping her face and neck with it. "Corinne alright?"

"Yeah," I replied, coming closer and feeling the charged energy still flowing through her. "She's still a little upset, and maybe a little confused, but she's calmed down a lot from earlier. She's gonna be fine."

"Good to hear." Putting the towel back down, she lowered herself to the ground and leaned back against the house, closing her eyes again and tilting her head, allowing the gentle breeze to dry the sweat from her body.

I sat down next to her, close, so that our shoulders were just touching and enjoyed the quiet spring evening.

"Ice?"

"Mm?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Are you happy?"

Blue eyes opened and she turned her head toward me, surprise written clearly on her features. "What brought that on?"

"I don't know, really. I've been meaning to ask you for awhile now, but things just keep coming up and it gets shuffled back behind other stuff. But I want to know. Are you?" I swallowed. "Happy, I mean?"

Turning away and once again resting her head against the foundation, she was silent for a long moment before she finally spoke. "For a very long time, Angel, I would have told you that I didn't even know what the meaning of that word was."

"Not even when you were young? With your parents?"

"When I was young, yes, I remember being happy. But those memories are faded; almost as if that happiness belonged to another person entirely and I was simply hearing their story. And then, after the killings and my incarceration, I didn't feel anything at all."

"And after prison? When you had a family again?"

"The Briacci's were very good to me. They treated me as a member of their own family, it's true. But by then, given everything that had happened before, any thoughts of happiness had already been pretty much burned out of me. Oh, I could still feel. Satisfaction, mostly. Pride in my work and my abilities. Anger. Rage."

"How about with your lovers?" I couldn't help smiling, though I know she couldn't see me. "You said you had a few."

She laughed softly. "Oh, I had more than a few, Angel. But I wasn't with them for happiness. Physical release, yes. Not happiness."

"Not even with Donita?"

"No. Though she lasted the longest of any of them. We were much too different, and the life I lived with her was based on a lie. She never knew, until the end, exactly what I did for a living. And when she found out, she was very hurt."

"But she still cared enough for you to want to defend you in court."

Ice nodded slowly, her eyes still closed. "Yes. And I cared enough for her not to let her."

Which meant that Ice cared for her a great deal indeed. My estimation of the beautiful lawyer, already impossibly high, went up another few notches.

"And after?" I asked, surprised at how small my voice sounded.

She smiled then, a grudging one that battled hard for its right to take its place on her lips. "I met you," she said simply. "And everything changed."

"How did it change?" I asked, honestly curious. We had never really spoken of this. I knew Ice's feelings, her love for me, ran very deep. But how they came to be, I had really no idea. At least, not one that could be confirmed. Or denied.

"It's hard to put into words," she replied after a moment. She still had her eyes closed, her face turned partially away, and so was even harder to read than normal. "It was as if, in looking at you, I was given a window through which to see something I didn't think I needed anymore. Goodness. Innocence. A kind of strength that comes from giving and not taking. I felt myself attracted to it even though, deep inside myself, I didn't want to be. Overcoming that part of myself, the one that wanted to keep things as they were, was one of the hardest things I've ever done." She sighed. "I still struggle with it. Every day. But I do know this."

Opening her eyes, she turned once again to face me, her eyes penetrating, intense, looking through the person I was and laying claim to the soul beneath. "Now that I've found these feelings, found you, I know that I never want to be without them again. I want to grow old with you, Angel. I want the feel of you in my arms, the taste of you on my lips, to be what I take with me when I die. And if that's what happiness means, Angel, then yes, I'm happy. I'm very, very happy."

And then I found myself wrapped in a hug that smelled of clean sweat and exotic spices, and let it carry me away in that one perfect moment into the place from which all good things come.

Several weeks went by without much action on any front. The opening of tourist season for another year came and went with the usual fanfare and (mostly) goodwill. With so many more strangers coming into and leaving town, it was difficult to keep track of Millicent and her minions, but it appeared, for the moment at least, that our efficient bush telegraph was in fine working order.

One day, about mid-season or so, Ice came home for lunch, which was, in and of itself, unusual for her. Normally, she would skip lunch altogether, too wrapped up in helping Pop to grab more than a quick drink at the station. I harped on her about that a time or ten, but she always answered the same way, with a mock scowl and a shooing motion, and I finally accepted the fact that on this, I would never change her.

Not that I really minded. Of all the things we could be at loggerheads over, given our differences, lunch was a pretty insignificant thing in the grand scheme of it all.

Didn't stop me from shoving the massive sandwich I'd made for myself into her hands as she stepped through the door though, along with a kiss to seal the deal. She accepted both gracefully, though she tore the sandwich in half and presented it back to me with another kiss.

The kiss, of course, kept me from grumping.

It also kept me from thinking for a couple seconds, but that's neither here nor there.

"So," I began once I was again fully capable of speech, "to what do I owe the honor of this unexpected, but wonderful, visit?"

Before answering, she finished her meal, wiped her mouth with the extra napkin I'd brought, and pegged the used tissue in the wastebasket near the door. "Pop's sister-in-law died."

"Oh, God, I'm sorry to hear that. Is he alright?"

"Yeah, he's doing ok. It was the one who got sick when those punks came around and beat the crap outta him. She got better, but her death wasn't exactly unexpected. At least, not to him." She turned fully to face me. "He's asked me to go with him to the funeral."

I grew somewhat alarmed. "Is something the matter?"

Sensing my fear, she put a warm hand on my arm. "No, nothing like that. It's just that he's been having some trouble with his arm since it's been broken, and he doesn't feel comfortable driving for six or eight hours straight."

I breathed out a sigh of relief. "I'm glad it wasn't something else."

"Nope. That's it."

"How long will you be gone?"

Ice shrugged. "Four days. Maybe a week, tops. If I decide to go."

I could feel my eyebrows raise. "If you decide to go? Why wouldn't you?"

"Once word gets out that Pop's gonna be out of the way for a while, I wouldn't put it past Millicent to do something stupid."