She sniffed back the tears that stood in her eyes and smiled at him, moving into the room. "You look like death. I don't think I've ever seen you with a hair out of place." She sat beside him, her hip hitched over the edge of the mattress. Her hand tentatively brushed a few unruly strands out of his eyes. "Hi."

He started to reach up and capture her hand, wincing in pain and sucking in a sharp breath before giving up and letting his arm fall back to the sheets. She bit her lower lip, wincing with him before moving her hand to his lips. He smiled at her and pressed them against her palm, brushing the smooth surface so quickly that she barely felt his tongue paint her life line. "Hi." Relaxing back against his pillow, he sighed in relief. "And if it makes you feel any better, I got the guy that did this to me."

"Well, I understand that's a pre-requisite for being one of the good guys." She leaned back slightly, relaxing as well now that she knew he was marginally okay. "Can you tell me what happened? Do you want to?"

He shrugged and winced again. "Like I said, I got the bad guy, so I don't think there's any harm in the telling." Looking to the side, he noticed the bed controls and nodded toward them. Bessie handed it to him and waited as the bed ground to a sitting position. "We got a 911 call, domestic disturbance."

"I thought you were a detective?"

"My partner and I were in the neighborhood. Stake-out had just ended, we were going in as backup." He coughed, his throat scratchy. Bessie offered him the glass from his bedside table and he took a drink as she held it. "That was the plan anyway. Then there's this shot and as we're about to pull over, this guy comes flying out of his house, waving a gun. He levels it right at us as my partner gets out of the car. He gets one shot off. Lucky shot. Hit Nick right in the throat." He drank again, unable to meet her eyes. "I slid out low while his attention was focused on what he'd done. Nailed him in the knee and he went down. He lost the gun, so I started over as the rest of the units hit the street."

He was quiet for a long time, staring at his hands. "I put my gun to him, pulled my cuffs. He rounded on me, high on something, and tried to grab my gun." Bessie set the glass down and put her hand lightly on top of one of Doug's. His skin was tanned, lined with purple bruises from where he'd been laced with IVs. "I hit him with the butt of it and he went down again. The front door to the house opened and, with twenty cops watching, his girlfriend started firing."

He shrugged, his hand slipping out from under hers. "He was down, but I wanted him alive so that he could pay for what he did to Nick. Unfortunately, that made me a prime target."

"Your dad said you took five bullets?"

"Two of them just grazed me." He lay back against the pillow, not realizing he'd tensed up as he spoke, his whole body tightening. "I'll have a few scars and some singed leg hairs, but nothing I can't live with."

"That still leaves three bullets, Doug."

"One hit my thigh. If it had been even the slightest bit to the right it would have shattered my femur. One hit just below my shoulder. That one did hit bone." He nodded down toward the cast that almost completely covered one of his arms. "The other one…" He took a deep breath. "The other one went under the base of the vest. I was in surgery for about fifteen hours, I think Dad said."

"My God," she breathed, the sound catching on a sob.

"Hey, hey. I said I was alive and I meant it. They managed to fix me up, although I think it's going to be a long time before I see the outside of a recovery room." He sighed, the edge of truth slipping out in his voice. "Or the outside of a squad room."

She couldn't meet his eyes, instead staring out the window at the blinding sun, wanting something to use as an excuse if he accused her of crying. "You know, if you wanted to come back to Capeside, I think just taking the train would have been cheaper."

Doug laughed softly and flinched, groaning softly at the pain. "Ow. Bess, honey, that hurts."

She sniffed and forced a smile as she looked at him. The curled corners of his mouth informed her that she wasn't fooling him, but he let her slide. "So, let's talk about something better. Where's Allyson?"

His slight smile faded in an instant. "As painful as everything else is, Bess?" He looked away from her, the sun offering him an excuse as well. "That's even worse."

She nodded, "I understand." Standing up, she looked around the hospital room, barren of any gifts, cards or flowers. "Can I get you anything before I go?"

"No." He shook his head, the movement barely perceptible. "Thanks though. For everything."

He wasn't looking at her, wasn't looking at anything other than the frigid white of the walls. She started to walk away then stopped, moving back to his side. With infinite gentleness, she leaned in and kissed him softly, his lips not moving under hers, just accepting the simple, friendly gesture. "I'll see you later."

His blue eyes seemed shadowed, no longer vibrant. She wanted to kick herself for darkening them, darkening him. He shrugged and she could tell the movement cost him. "I'll be here." She started out of the room, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat as his voice followed her out. "I've got nowhere else to go."

"You're not really getting into this soap opera thing, are you?"

"Don't you have a business to run?" Doug didn't look away from the TV, though the corners of his mouth did lift up in a smile. "What do all your guests do? Fend for themselves?"

"It's a bed and breakfast, not a bed and every other thing you need for the rest of the day." Bessie sat down next to the bed, sticking her tongue out at him. "If they can't understand that, maybe they need to stay at the Hilton next time."

"That attitude should welcome the customers in droves, Bess." He looked at her for the first time. "And for your information, this soap is much more than just melodramatic incest and partner-swapping. It's got zombies. And other stuff that I don't quite understand. Unless, of course, they've just given me a fresh dose of pain medication. Then it all becomes really clear."

"That's frightening."

"Which part?"

"Pick one." She reached over and took his hand. "But I think mostly the zombies."

Doug stared down at their joined hands for a moment before looking back at the screen. He caught her looking at him out of the corner of his eye. "How is the B&B? Everything running smoothly?"

"Like a dream."

"I guess those big city conferences actually help, huh?"

She looked at him deliberately, her eyes not leaving his pale face. "Something like that."

He turned to face her. "I didn't mean anything by it, Bessie."

"I didn't say you did." She got out of the chair, freeing her hand from his. She walked to the window and crossed her arms over her chest. Sighing shakily, she leaned her head against the cool glass. "You know how you said Allyson was off limits?"

He nodded, his eyes watching her warily.

"Bodie…That's not the case with us. Things are great. Everything that was a problem the last time I saw you has been resolved. He only works nights occasionally now, so he's home more often. He's hired managers to take over the restaurant, so he's really only involved on a supervisory level; although, he likes to cook from time to time."

"That's great, Bess."

"We're happy." She said the words vehemently and Doug couldn't help but smile. She glared at him angrily. "What's so funny?"

"I'm beginning to get the impression that you think I got myself shot just so I could come down here and ruin your perfect life." His smile faded, his eyes tinged with emotion she didn't recognize. Or didn't want to. "Believe me, that's not the case. My father had me brought to Capeside for my recovery just in case there was any chance the guy had any other friends or relatives that might be a little…upset over his arrest. He was in a gang, Bess. So I assure you this is completely for my safety and has absolutely nothing to do with your marriage."

She started to say something, stopping as he slumped back against the bed, wincing with pain. "Are you alright?"

"You mean in general or with the four extra holes in my body?"

"Do you need me to get the nurse?"

"No, Bessie." His voice was cold and distant. "I need you to get my wife, who has decided that it's just fucking easier to pretend that I died on the operating table than to accept the fact that she's got a husband who's going to need physical therapy for at least the next year of his life, who may or may not be able to function in the only job he's ever known, wanted or understood and who can never have children."

She bit her lower lip, averting her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be fucking sorry." Doug turned his head away from her, his eyes focusing on the TV screen again. "Just go."

Bessie nodded, slipping around the end of the bed. "Goodbye, Doug."

He closed his eyes as the door closed behind her with a soft whoosh, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill through his long lashes.

"Another rousing bout of self-pity over with?" The nurse walked in and leaned back against the door. "Or are you still in the midst of it?"

"Go away."

"The young lady in tears asked me to come in and give you something for the pain. Considering the state she was in, I thought it better to let you suffer through it, but something about an oath I took forbids me from just watching you writhe in agony."

"Well then, I'll change your name from Nurse Ratched to Florence Nightingale."

"I have a hypodermic needle, Mr. Witter. Don't make it too tempting to misuse it." She walked over to his IV and inserted the needle. "Who is she? Girlfriend?"

"I just want to be left alone; do you think you can manage that?"

She depressed the plunger and regarded him thoughtfully. "No." Sinking down onto the chair Bessie had vacated, she crossed her arms and stared at him. "Girlfriend? All torn up by your condition as it is, then you add insult to injury by making her feel bad?"

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Sister?"

"She's not anything. An old friend."

"Ex-girlfriend?"

"Friend." Doug shook his head, wishing the painkiller would kick in and send him drifting off to sleep. "Okay? She's my friend."

"She looks too worried and too scared to be a friend."

"Go away," Doug pleaded sleepily, feeling the rush of cotton envelop him. "Just…go."

She watched him drift off to sleep then left the room, making a few notations in his chart. When she finished, she glanced up and saw Bessie standing by the nurse station. "He's sleeping."

"But he's okay?"

"He is. But you're welcome to see for yourself." She gestured to his door. "In case you don't believe me."

Doug opened his eyes slowly, turning his head to look away from the bright sunlight streaming in the open blinds. A dark shadow moved and stepped over so that it was blocking the light to his face. Turning back, he blinked a few times to clear away the gauze that seemed to cover his eyes.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I got shot."

Sheriff Witter chuckled. "Funny how that works." He turned and closed the blinds then leaned against the wall by the window. "Got a call from your brother. Apparently one of the girls called him and told him what was going on. He wants to know if you want some company."

"Because he thinks I need comforting or because he's afraid I'm being overrun by female family members?"

"I think he was a little worried about you."

"Nothing to worry about," Doug assured him. "Tell my little brother to stay in sunny Florida and I'll let him know if I need a vacation on the high seas."

"He's just worried about you. We all are." Doug watched his dad push off the wall and move over to the sink outside the bathroom. "Your wife hasn't called once."

Doug's mouth quirked up at the venom in the first two words. "Allyson's busy."

"She's your fucking wife, Doug." He turned the water on and off. "I may not like her family or her politics or the fact that she helped drag you to Boston, but you're a family."

"We're in the middle of a divorce, Dad." He blew out his breath, surprised he was able to say the words. "Well, it's been a couple of days. We're probably almost through with it. It's amazing how greasy the wheels get when there's money involved."

"Is it because of this?"

"It's because of a lot of things. And I really don't feel up to talking about any one of them." He sighed and leaned back into his pillows. "Do you think you can keep the family away for a few days?"

"Other than me, Doug, who's been here?"

He laughed softly, sadly. "Right."

Sheriff Witter walked over and put his hand on his son's unbandaged arm. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Thanks, Dad. But no. This is just something I'm going to have to get through myself."

"What about Bessie Wells?"

"Wells?"

"Potter."

"Oh."

"She's a married woman, Doug."

"She's just a friend, Dad. She heard I was here and she was worried."

"The Potter women have never just been friends to the Witter men." He cleared his throat, as if realizing what he just said. "Just be careful. I don't need a jealous husband undoing all the work the doctors just did."

"We're just friends."

"I'll be back tomorrow?"

"No." Doug shook his head. "Give me a few days, okay, Dad?"

"Sure, Doug. Sure."

He watched him leave and blew out a breath, his eyes dropping to his waist, the covers pulled over the bandages that hid the dark, angry scar. Lifting them with his good hand, he stared at the pink tinged gauze for a long while before letting them fall.

Doug forced himself into a sitting position, fighting to ignore the pain that seemed to ricochet through his body. His good arm gripped the metal bar suspended over his head and he hoisted himself up, sucking in air as he felt pressure along his incision.

"Are you supposed to be doing that?"

Doug gasped, inhaling sharply as he released the bar and slumped back against the pillows. He looked over at Bodie and managed a grimace. "Hey."

"I heard you were back in town."

"And let me guess, this town ain't big enough for the two of us?" Doug cocked an eyebrow and held out his good hand. "Hey."

Bodie shook it and gave Doug the once over. "You look like shit."

"If it's any consolation, I feel worse."

Bodie grinned and shook his head. "No." He glanced around the room, bare of any gifts or well-wishes. "Bessie told me you were here."

"Yeah. I got tired of Boston, thought I'd see some of the finer Capeside establishments. So far? This one is right up there. I'm thinking about getting it reviewed for the Capeside historical society's annual 'Where to Go in Capeside'."

"Nah, that'd make it a marketable place and it'd lose its old world charm." He ran a hand through his hair. "How are you?"

"Crappy, to be honest." Doug sighed. "And I hate being cooped up here and there's no end in sight, which just makes it worse."

"Where's Allyson?"

"Ah…touchy subject." Doug attempted to shrug, wincing as a shot of pain laced through his arm. "We're getting divorced."

"Ouch." Bodie shook his head. "Bessie know that?"

"Not to my knowledge. We haven't discussed it."

"Gotcha." Bodie nodded, moving over to the chair. Sitting down, he leaned back, avoiding Doug's gaze. "So, what happens now?"

"Physical therapy once all the wounds have healed. Rehabilitation. Then I go back to my job and see if I can do it. If not, I take a medical retirement and try and figure out what young ex-policemen do when they can't do what they love anymore."

"Will you do that here? Or in Boston?"

Doug felt the corners of his lips curl up in a smile. "That's the real question, isn't it? I mean, I stand a better chance of staying a cop if I stay here in Capeside, but my life's in Boston, even if I'm not with Allyson." He blew out a long sigh. "What would you do?"

"Can't say." Bodie shrugged. "I've never been you. You just have to do what makes you happy, Doug."

"Got any ideas what that might be?"

"Honestly?" Bodie met Doug's gaze and held it for a long time, revealing nothing in the dark depths of his brown eyes. "Not a clue, man."

"Damn it." Doug offered him a smile, wondering how much his own blue eyes gave away. "I guess that means I'm going to have to do all the hard work and figure it out for myself."

Doug sank down onto the chair, his whole body pale and shaking. Closing his eyes, he leaned back and took a deep breath, trying to calm his pounding heart.

"I heard you were supposed to still be in bed."

He didn't look up, didn't open his eyes. "I'm not going to stay in bed for the rest of my life."

"It hasn't been that long."

"No?" He pushed himself to his feet, steeling his expression so she wouldn't see him reacting to the pain. "You try laying in bed for three weeks without being able to do anything and then tell me it's not that long." He grabbed the bed rail and moved over, sinking down onto the lowered mattress. "What are you doing here?"

She took a deep breath, her exhaled sigh matching one of the harsh pants that forced his lips apart. "Visiting hours."

"I haven't seen you in two weeks."

"I was under the impression you didn't want me here."

"And what changed your impression?"

She shrugged and came into the room, sitting in the chair he'd just vacated. "Nothing. I just wanted to see you."

"I don't want to see anyone." He leaned back, ignoring her as he lifted his shirt, feeling the edges of the gauze that covered his wound.

"Least of all me?"

He finally looked at her, his blue eyes cold and impassive. "What are you doing here, Bessie? Honestly."

She averted her eyes and shrugged, her hands fidgeting in her lap. "I needed to see you today."

"Why?"

She stood up and paced the room, not looking at him. Her hands kept moving, another outlet for the nervous energy that seemed to radiate off of her. "No reason, really. I guess. Not one that I can…" She stopped and looked at him, seeming somewhat frightened. "You don't remember?"

"Remember what, Bess?" His voice softened, his eyes warm again, searching.

"It's nothing."

He reached out, grabbing her hand as she neared him, holding her still and close to him. "Remember what, Bessie?"

She shivered at his touch, at the soft whisper of his voice. "It's silly to think you would. After…after everything that's happened, what you've been going through."

"Bessie?"

She pulled away, shaking her head. "I should go. I shouldn't have come. I won't…I won't come again." She headed for the door, her hand wrapped around the knob.

"Four years ago today, we made love for the first time." She turned, facing him uncertainly. "We snuck out to the trees by the B&B and finally made love. After nearly two weeks of build-up, after wanting you for what seems like my lifetime." His voice was thick and hoarse, full of emotion. "Is that why you came, Bessie?"

She nodded, words stuck in her throat. She cleared it several times before speaking. "I didn't think you'd remember."

"How could I forget?"

She nodded again, relief washing through her. "I was so afraid it was just me."

He laughed softly, shaking his head. "You think what happened in Boston would have happened if it was just you?"

"I was afraid it was just sex."

"You could never be just sex to me, Bessie." He sat up, wincing a little as the motion stretched the healing skin of his abdomen. "C'mere."

"I shouldn't. We…we shouldn't." She looked at the door then back at him, her eyes dark with longing.

"You're right." He held out his hand to her. "C'mere."

A sob caught on her breath and she took a tentative step forward. "I have a husband and a family. I can't…I can't…"

"I just want to touch you, Bessie. Just touch your face or your hair. Maybe both? Bury myself in the feel of your breasts, just for a moment. It's not like I'm going to be up for anything else." He smiled wryly in the direction of his waist, the obvious lack of arousal. "I just want to feel you, Bess."

Tears were running down her cheeks by the time she closed the short distance between them, tears he captured on his thumbs as he brought her face close to his, breathed her breath as her lips parted.

"I can't," she told him softly, over and over as he rained light, barely there kisses over her face, never touching her lips as his fingers wove through her hair, holding her to him. "Please…"

"Please what?" He whispered, his voice cracking on the words as he finally kissed her, his lips moving over hers briefly before pulling away. His hand moved from her hair, trailing along her arm to the soft curve of her breast. "What, Bessie?"

"Please, Doug." She parted her lips as he kissed her, moaning softly as his tongue slipped past them. He explored her mouth as if it was new to him, tasting the saltiness of her tears. His hand moved over her breast, barely brushing the fabric as her nipple hardened beneath it. She pulled away suddenly, shaking her head, crossing her arms over her chest. "No."

He fought for breath in the wake of her movement, nodding all the while. "No. Of course not."

"Doug…"

"What would be the point, right? I mean, they were just brief interludes, right, Bess? Casual fucks in the course of our lives, our marriages?"

"I don't think it's casual when you sleep with someone other than your wife within the first two weeks of your marriage."

"Just a sporadic affair," he continued as if he hadn't heard her. "And now I can't even offer you that. Just a body that doesn't quite work right." He smirked, not looking at her any longer. "At least you waited for conclusive evidence before you cut me out of your life. More than I can say for my wife."

"Doug…"

"You said no, Bessie. Let's just make this the one vow we actually stick to, okay?"

"Sheriff Witter? There's someone here to see you."

John Witter sighed and rolled his neck, leaning forward to key his intercom button. "Send 'em in, Steph." He stood up, adjusting his belt, stepping out from behind the desk. The door opened and he extended his hand. "I'm Sheriff… Hello, Bessie."

She nodded, shutting the door behind her and not reaching for his hand. He withdrew it almost immediately, walking back behind his desk. "I'm sorry to bother you."

"No bother." He gestured to a seat, waiting for her before sinking back down into his. "What can I do for you?"

"It's…it's about Doug."

"I never thought otherwise."

She nodded, accepting the comment. "I went to see him about a week ago. We…we fought? I'm not sure if it was fighting."

"I don't really want to know the details of your visits with my son. I think I already know more than I should."

Bessie lowered her head, not willing to meet his eyes. "I went by to see him today. He wasn't in the hospital."

"He's at home."

"Oh. He's…is he okay?"

Sheriff Witter sighed and stared down at his desk. "Bessie, I know you've gone through a few rough patches in your life. Your dad, your mom, your marriage for a while. Do you really want to risk stirring up trouble here?"

"I just want to know that he's okay."

"He's fine. As fine as he can be given what happened to him and what that little bitch did to him."

"What…?"

"Allyson. His loving wife. Served him divorce papers on their fourth anniversary. And, knowing that if Doug took her to court he'd get all the sympathy, she offered him a deal he couldn't refuse. Hard to refuse someone when you love them, don't you think?"

"What was the deal?"

"Enough money that, if the physical therapy and rehabilitation don't work, he won't have to worry about anything for the rest of his life." He shrugged. "Not that he ever gave a shit about her money."

"Did he sign…I mean, did he take the deal?"

"She wanted out. He loves her." He held Bessie's gaze with his own. "He does love her, despite whatever's between the two of you."

"I know that."

He nodded. "I figured you did."

Bessie stood up and walked to the shaded window, leaning against it until she heard the pinging crinkle of the blinds. "Will he stay in Capeside?"

"I hope not." She looked at him quickly and he shrugged. "What is there for him here, Bessie? A lot of pain and heartache. A woman he loves that is married to and in love with another man. Working in a police station that will seem like small time to him, serving only to remind him of what he's lost? What he can't do any longer?" He looked down at his desk, the framed photo on it. It was turned just enough that Bessie could see Doug and Pacey, both smiling, standing on the deck of Pacey's boat. "I want him to stay. I never wanted him to leave. But he's gone now. And I think gone for good."

"It would be easy to make him stay."

"Yeah, it would." He lifted his eyes to hers, the knowing look in them again. "But it wouldn't be fair. And in the long run, it'd hurt him more than anything else."

"Yeah." She nodded, hating the tickle of tears that teased her at the back of her throat. "Tell him…tell him I said hello?"

"I will."

She stared at him for a long time. "You won't."

One corner of his mouth lifted in an acknowledging smile. "I won't."

Doug leaned on the cane, knowing he shouldn't be on the dock, knowing it'd be easy to slip on the weathered wood. Still, he needed to be here, just for a moment.

"Hey."

He looked back over his shoulder at her, smiling slightly. "Hey."

She stood a few feet away, not coming down to the edge of the dock. The silence was loud enough that you could barely hear the water lapping at the wood, at the grassy reeds that lined the shore. "I'm surprised you're here."

"You're alone?"

"Yeah."

He nodded, even though he'd known the answer. "I just wanted to stop by for a few minutes. I hope it's okay."

"It is." She nodded in return, not really listening as her eyes moved over him, memorizing him. "Like I said, I'm alone."

"Yeah." He looked around then walked toward her, moving toward the small stand of trees as she fell in step beside him. He sank down in one of the chairs with a small sigh of relief, shifting away from the pain in his leg.

"You're okay?"

"Yeah. Just a little pain when I walk too much, which is usually every time I walk."

"The Witter boys were always stubborn."

"Yeah." He looked away from her for a second. "Did your mom have an affair with my dad?"

"No." Bessie shook her head, not surprised by the question. "They dated in high school for a while. The Witter and Potter legacy stretches back a ways."

"So not only are we stubborn, we're desperately unlucky when it comes to the Potter women?"

She gave him a half-smile. "Something like that."

"I'm going back to Boston."

"And Allyson?"

"She'll be there, I assume. I won't be with her."

"And what about your job?"

"It's still there. It's different but…but for now it's still there."

"And Capeside?"

He stood up, avoiding her eyes, the question that hung between them. "I should go. I've got a cab waiting to take me to the train station."

She nodded and stood as well, tilting her head slightly as she regarded him. "Goodbye, Doug."

He didn't reach out to touch her, didn't move closer, didn't do anything but step back, turning awkwardly, and start toward the driveway. "Bye, Bess."

She walked out of the house as the car pulled up, blinking in the bright sunlight. Bodie smiled as he climbed out, waving to her. "Hey, baby."

"Hi." She went around to the passenger's door and opened it, giving Alexander a hug as he scrambled out, heading to the back to help his dad with the groceries. "Everything taken care of?"

"Yup." Bodie handed a few small bags to Alexander then waited as Bessie got out of the backseat, a squirming toddler in her hands. He watched them both for a silent moment, comparing the dark brown hair to hers, the light skin to hers. He could almost pretend until the little girl turned and waved at him, her bright blue eyes catching the afternoon sun. "Did you get everything you needed done?"

She kissed her daughter's head and set her on the ground, watching her scramble after her brother. "Yeah. Everything's done."

08/14/02