Legend

The phone call was from a detective. He said that, based on the photograph I'd sent, that a preliminary identification of Margaret had been made. Her body had been taken to the morgue for an autopsy to determine the cause of death. He asked if I would come down to identify the body. I said that I would, then hung up.

Aslyn and I were still crying when Damian came in, accompanied by Alfred and burdened with shopping bags. When they heard what we needed to do, Alfred went into Super Butler mode, efficiently separated our stuff, and stated that he would be pleased to drive us where ever we needed to go. That snapped us out of it, and we shambled off to get dressed.

I huddled next to Damian in the back seat of the Rolls; Aslyn was in the front seat. We identified ourselves at the front desk and shown to a room where the compassionate morgue attendant showed us a photograph of her face. Aslyn and I both identified our roommate and friend. The detective was present and had a couple of follow-up questions. He said that it looked as if she'd succumbed to smoke inhalation, although there were signs that she'd been trampled. I confirmed that the electricity hadn't been working in my room and that the smoke detectors hadn't gone off. I thought about that; the smoke detectors were wired rather than battery operated. "Was the electricity off?" I asked, puzzled. The detective gave us a noncommittal answer and concluded the interview.

"What's going to happen to her now?" Aslyn asked, tears streaking her face. The detective offered the tissue box all around.

"Her family is making arrangements to have her cremated and returned to them."

"We don't have any contact information for them," she persisted. "Is there going to be a memorial service or funeral?" The detective looked at her with compassion and said he'd pass along the questions. We had to be content with that.

"I bet there won't be, not here," Aslyn said bitterly. I nodded. Her parents hadn't liked that she'd chosen to live in such a big city, but she was an urban planner, and there simply wasn't enough of Montana that needed planning, so going home hadn't been an option. Not that she'd wanted to. She loved living in New York.

"You can have your own memorial service," Damian suggested, initiating a group hug, then guiding us back outside where Alfred waited.

"Cara, Martha, and Bess will want to come," I said wearily. "I suppose we should invite Vanilla."

"He'll probably blame us," Aslyn muttered.

"I keep thinking I should have tried harder to stay with you guys," I admitted. "I was afraid, though. I wanted to get out of there ASAP."

"You couldn't have done anything differently," Aslyn told me. "We were together one moment and then the next, it seemed, I was alone. And I wanted to get out too. Margaret wouldn't have been any different. We all did our best." After that, we were silent as we went back to the hotel. Aslyn went to lie down, and I had some phone calls to return. The first to my uncle, who was getting ready to charge over; I told him that I was ok, but my roommate was dead. Bucky said I didn't sound ok, and got me to agree to come to the tower to have my throat looked at. I knocked on Aslyn's door and asked if she wanted to see a doctor to be checked out, and she wearily called her doctor. They would squeeze her in, so Alfred drove her and Damian took me to the tower. Before going up to the clinic, I checked in at work to tell Doug what happened and that I probably wouldn't be in tomorrow either. Then I stopped by the training room, where Bucky hugged me and asked me to come back down after seeing the doctors. Up in the clinic, they determined that my throat, sinuses, and lungs had been damaged by the smoke and heat and took chest x-rays, monitored my heart, and drew blood. They gave me an IV and gave me oxygen since my pulse ox reading was a little low. I sagged against Damian while we waited for the test results. The doctor said that I'd be fine, and administered heparin and pentoxifylline to help with the pulmonary irritants. Then they checked and treated the burns on my arm with the tissue accelerator and turned me loose when I was adequately hydrated and my pulse ox reading was normal. I felt slightly better, and clutched the papers that told me what to look for in terms of infection or other possible problems as we went back down to see Bucky. He'd contacted my parents, and while they were upset, he'd managed to keep them from rushing down to see me. He'd called J too, but he was studying for mid-terms and was content with the knowledge that I was getting care. Emma came down and after a careful hug gave me a big bottle of water and they both wanted to know if there was anything they could do.

"I wish there was," I said, trying not to cry.

"I'll bring some soup by later on," Bucky promised, and Damian took me home.

Aslyn wasn't back yet, so Damian took a nap with me. When I woke up, Aslyn was back and he coddled us with easy-to swallow foods for lunch. After lunch, he went into work for a couple hours after I promised I'd call if I needed anything, and Aslyn and I both began the process of dealing with the fallout in our lives. There was our renter's insurance carriers to be notified, the landlord to contact. I was expecting some kind of a fight with the landlord, but the company said that they would refund our damage deposit, the last month's rent that we'd paid when we signed the lease, and prorate the rent up to the date of the fire. Alfred had driven Aslyn past the building and she said it was a total loss.

"My parents are having a cow," she said glumly. "They want me to come live at home."

"My family wants me to move back to the tower," I sighed. Remembering, I took my hair out of the chignon and had her look for damage. Fortunately, whoever'd put out the fire had done so before much of my hair had burned.

"You can't really tell right now," Aslyn said encouragingly. "It's not at all like the lab accident when we were in high school. It must have been just sparks." Her hair, which was currently styled in an adorable pixie, had come through unscathed. She sighed. "I think I'm giving up on apartments," she said. "Margaret was burned out of two. Mom knows a realtor. We can still be roommates," she offered.

"I think I might move back to the tower. It's the most secure place I know," I said.

"I'm surprised Damian hasn't asked you to move in with him," she said.

"He might," I conceded. "I just don't know if I'm ready for that right now."

"I'm not going to tell you what to do--"

"That's a first," I muttered, and she smiled.

"But consider it if he asks. You love him, he loves you, and you're here half the time anyway. It's a big step, but you can't tell me you haven't started thinking long-term with him."

"I'll think about it. If he asks."

With that, we dropped the topic and turned on the tv to local news. The fire was the big story, with three fatalities. It had apparently been set by the S'mores arsonist, now being called the S'mores killer; they'd found the impaled marshmallow out in the alley. Public pressure to catch the perpetrator was at a fever pitch. Confidential sources were reporting that the electricity to the building had been cut off, a new wrinkle.

"That's why there were no smoke alarms," Aslyn said grimly.

My phone rang; the detective told me that he'd passed along our message to Margaret's family; her father had responded that there would be a private memorial service at home for the family.

"So it's up to us, I guess," Aslyn said.

"I just can't deal with that today," I said. She agreed, and after sitting together in silence for a bit, went to her room. I also went to the room I was sharing with Damian and took a look at what he'd gotten for me. I'd already had the things I liked for my showers, grooming products, and makeup here as well as a small selection of clothes. Thank god the pearls were here. He'd gotten me a few more pairs of the black knit pants I liked to wear to work with some pretty colored polos and a couple pairs of the crosstrainers I really liked. I tried them on to be sure the fit was right, then started snapping off the tags. I put things away, then I emailed Cara, Martha, and Bess, telling them the bad news. Then I had to compose myself. I took a nap, not wanting to deal with anything else for a bit. My arm was throbbing and my lungs were itchy and scratchy.

When I woke up, the room was dark and the only illumination came from the open door to the hallway. Damian was sitting on the edge of the bed looking at me. I uncurled from my fetal position and he stroked my hair. "How are you feeling?" he asked gently.

"About as well as can be expected," I mumbled, and started to cry again. He didn't say anything, just gathered me up in his arms and rocked me until I was finished.

"Bucky and Emma are here," he said. "They brought dinner."

"Ok," I said, sitting up, disengaging from him reluctantly. "Let me clean up a bit and I'll be out."

"Take your time, sweet pea," he said.

"What does that mean?" I asked, trying for a smile. "You haven't sent me sweet peas."

"Bliss," he said, "or 'thank you for a good time.' I'm going with bliss."

"I'm hardly bliss," I said.

"You are to me," he said. He touched my cheek. "I'll wait for you." So I went and washed my face, putting in eyedrops that stung. He put his arm around me as we walked down to the living room. Emma and Bucky got up for hugs, then we went to the dining room for soup, a hearty chicken noodle. I poked my head in to see if Aslyn wanted dinner, but she was asleep. We could reheat it for her later. Conversation was general and it was nice to hear things that had nothing to do with the tragedy at the apartment building. They didn't linger long after dinner, though, leaving after telling to call if I needed anything at all.

"I'm glad you're going to be ok," Bucky said gruffly. "I'm sorry about your friend, but I'm glad you made it out. And you still have your other friend. "

"It could have been a lot worse," I sighed, and he nodded.

"It's not much comfort to you now," he admitted, "But it is a big relief to me and the rest of your family."

"Would you like to borrow Sigurd or Torburn?" Emma asked. "I'm sure that either of them would come over if you'd like."

"I appreciate that," I said, hugging her. "But I know Torburn doesn't like to leave the little dogs and Sigurd is a creature of habit. I'll be ok, I have Damian. He's not as fluffy as Torburn or Sigurd, but I can understand what he says." Damian smiled and put his arms around me, snuggling up to my back. Emma grinned, and they left.

Aslyn came out about an hour later and had some soup. "Your uncle is an amazing cook," she said as she ate. "Damian, I can't tell you how much I appreciate your hospitality. I'm going to go home tomorrow, though. My boss told me to take the rest of the week off, so I'm going to go soothe my parents, who are having conniptions."

"It's my pleasure to help," Damian told her. "Let me know if I can do anything else for you." She squeezed his hand briefly and took her soup bowl over to the dishwasher. We watched some tv, then made an early night of it.

Damian and I snuggled up in bed. "What else can I do for you, sweet pea?" he asked.

"Not a thing, honey," I said. "You've been just perfect."

"Anything for you." He was silent a moment. "I don't want an answer yet, I want you to think it over, but I'd like to ask if you'd move in with me. I know you have housing options and I wasn't going to ask you until your lease was up, but... this has made me realize how empty my life would be without you in it. The tower is probably more secure, but like most hotels and apartment buildings, this hotel is adding layers of security so you'd be safe here too. There are pros and cons I'm sure you'll want to consider."

"I can't afford my share of the rent here," I said after a moment, having debated with myself whether to say anything about it but too tired to pussyfoot around.

"I'm not trying to buy your affection," he said, "but I can afford it and I would like to be with you. I would like to wake up with you and go to sleep with you and everything in between. I can't get enough of you. I know you like to pay your way, and I know there's a big income gap between us. We can share the other expenses, but I like to be here with you, cuddling in the window seat, sleeping with you here. It's familiar territory, where we've started our love affair. Just take your time and think it over." He kissed me, which was a sufficient distraction.

When I woke up the next morning, I looked out the window. The skies were dull and leaden, threatening rain at any moment. My heart felt the same way, but at the same time I felt a constant presence of light and warmth. I slipped out to make the coffee. Aslyn came out, dressed and packed. She had the first cup then gave me a hug. "I'm going to go home, but I'll give you a call later," she said, and we hugged. As the door to the suite closed behind her, I took coffee into the bedroom. Damian stirred as he caught the scent of the coffee. He moved over, sat up against the headboard, and after handing him his cup, I curled up beside him, leaning against him as we sipped.

"I'll move in with you," I told him. "I want to be with you too."