Darkness Series
Part 8: A Helping Hand From the Dark

Jarod tasted the gravy he was making and added another pinch of salt, resuming stirring the pan over the low heat.

"How do you do it?" demanded a voice to his left and Jarod half-turned, the instinct of moving in the direction of a sound continuing, despite the fact that it was unnecessary.

"Do what?"

"Make perfectly smooth sauce every time." Nicole leaned on his shoulder and peered into the pan at the lump-free gravy. "It's not fair."

He grinned. "I don't know. Somehow, it just works."

"And if you don't know, then you can't teach me," the woman proclaimed in disgust, checking on the pudding.

"Sorry." Jarod tried to look meek, shrugging his shoulders, before moving the pan off the heat and turning off the hotplate. Moving aside, he sat on the bench, picking up a half-empty glass of Dr. Pepper and sipping it. "But I'll let you pour the gravy into the container when it's cool."

"Such generosity," she told him, in tones of killing sarcasm.

"I know," he grinned, dimples showing in his cheeks, as she stood in front of him. Kissing him, Nicole then moved out of his reach to begin whipping the brandy cream.

"What can I do?" he queried after a moment.

"Don't you think you've done enough?" she retorted at once. "After making stuffing, gravy, pudding, Christmas cake - there isn't anything else we could have prepared before the actual day!"

"I've always like being organized," he responded thoughtfully. "And it's nice, being able to plan for such a long period, instead of living day-to-day."

"I can imagine," she stated softly, abruptly changing the subject. "By the way, what were you doing last night until 2am?"

He grinned. "At this time of year, you aren't meant to be asking questions."

"Okay, okay." Nicole put the lid on the container and placed it into the fridge before rinsing the beaters. "Now, is there anything else to do?"

"Have we got everything that will need preparation tomorrow?" Jarod asked after a moment of thought.

"I think so."

"Then, no, we've probably done all we need to."

He slid off the bench, refilling the glass from a bottle in the fridge and then following Nicole into the living room. Listening to her stir the fire, he sat down in the corner of the sofa and picked up his book. 

"Can you turn the lights on?"

Nicole's eyebrows shot up into her bangs as she turned to stare at him. "I beg your pardon?"

"The Christmas tree lights," he explained with a grin, knowing what she was thinking.

She eyed the unlit tree. "How do you know they're not on?"

"They make a very soft click when they go on and off," Jarod replied. "And, as I know you like them best when they're flashing, that's the way you usually have them."

Laughing, Nicole stepped over and flicked the switch that would illuminate the many colored strings of lights. For a moment, she stood beside the tree, finally detecting the very faint noise as the lights flashed. Shaking her head, she sat down beside him on the sofa.

"Incredible. I wouldn't have picked that up when I couldn't see."

He smiled, putting one arm around her. Nicole rested her head on his shoulder and stared at the fire. Jarod fiddled with her hair as he gazed into the blackness surrounding him, his book lying forgotten on his knee.

"Are you happy, Jarod?" Nicole asked suddenly.

"Yes," he responded honestly, turning his head to kiss her hair. "How could I be otherwise?"

* * *

When Jarod awoke, it was the silence he noticed first. Carefully, he flipped up the cover of his watch to feel the time, discovering that it was just past six.

"It's snowing," a sleepy voice from beside him stated.

"I thought it might be," he told her. "Is it deep?"

"I don't think so." Nicole snuggled up against him. "Sleep okay?"

"Fine." Jarod ran his fingers through her hair, his face turned to the ceiling, eyes closed. "You aren't on call today, are you?"

"Not till this afternoon," she replied. "We may have to have Christmas lunch instead of dinner, in case I get a call during it."

"No problem." He removed his arm from around her shoulders. "Do you want any breakfast?"

"Not very much," she smiled, as he pulled on his bathrobe, tucking her hands under her head and staring at the ceiling. "Maybe just one or two of the rolls you made last night after I went to bed."

Jarod laughed. "Is there anything I do that you don't know about?" 

"Nope," she giggled, as he slid into his slippers. "But I can do things you don't know about!"

"Oh, really?" Jarod raised an eyebrow. "Should I ask what?"

"At this time of year..." she retorted, grinning.

"Okay, okay," he interrupted hurriedly. "You were really hoping for that, weren't you?"

"Oh, yes," Nicole laughed. "Absolutely!"

* * *

Jarod slid the tray containing the turkey into the oven, checking that the temperature dial was at the right spot as he shut the oven door.

"Now what?" he demanded at the sound of a footstep behind him.

"The most important part of the day," Nicole told him with a grin. "The gifts."

Picking up his glass and the jug of eggnog, Jarod followed Nicole out of the room and into the living area. She took the objects out of his hand and placed them on the coffee table as he sat on the sofa.

"Well, you must have been a good boy this year," Nicole commented as she eyed the stack of gifts under the tree.

"Oh, I think that's debatable," Jarod retorted with a grin. "But I did try."

Laughing, Nicole put a box on his lap, sitting down on the floor at his feet. Eagerly ripping the paper off the gift, he found the strip of Braille she had attached to the box and read the dots, his face lighting up.

"Nicole!" he exclaimed in delight, hugging her. "A top-range voice recognition program!"

"Thought you'd be pleased," she replied complacently. "It should make that column you write for the newspaper easier."

"Absolutely!"

Jarod kissed the top of her head, pulling out the sheet on which Nicole had transcribed the instructions and quickly reading the description of the product. Before he could read further, however, another gift was placed on his lap.

"More?"

"It's Christmas," she reminded him with a grin.

"But it's your turn," he protested indignantly. "I know there's at least one present there for you - I put it there myself!"

Laughing, Nicole reached over and pulled a square parcel towards her, arching an eyebrow at the sounds that came from it.

"Jarod, did you - ?"

"Open it," he ordered, grinning. "Questions later. Oh, but don't turn it upside down."

Shooting a suspicious glance at him, she carefully unsealed the tape and peeled away the paper, eyeing the holes in the cardboard box.

"Is this...?"

"Ah, ah, ah," he scolded. "I'm sure you haven't looked inside yet."

"Okay, okay." She lifted the lid of the box, the words she had been about to say dying on her lips as she stared down at the small black bundle curled up on the cushion, watching her out of bright blue eyes. "Oh, Jarod," she breathed. "How did you know?"

"I guessed, and I asked Ann," he confessed. "I also remembered you saying something about how much you liked cats."

She scooped the tiny creature up in her hands, hearing it purr as she held it gently against her cheek.

"It's a tom," Jarod told her, smiling at the sound. "He's had all his shots, and been checked by a vet."

"What's his name?"

"That's your choice," he responded.

Nicole held the kitten up in front of her face, smiling at it as it tried to bat her nose with a paw. "Toby," she said suddenly. "I always wanted a pet called that."

"You had one," he protested. "A goldfish. It lived for six days."

The woman snorted in amusement. "Well, I hope I do better with this Toby."

"So do I," Jarod agreed. "You'd find him a lot harder to flush down the toilet."

With the kitten curled up in her lap, she giggled and then looked at him. "It's your turn."

"Okay." He grinned, ripping the paper off the box and picking up the envelope inside it. After a moment of feeling the long, thin object, he raised his head. "Is this what I think it is?"

"That depends," Nicole replied at once, smiling. "What do you think it is?"

Without responding, Jarod eagerly tore open the envelope, impatiently pulling out a letter and hurriedly unfolding it. Running his fingers over the dots, Jarod's eyes glowed delightedly as he stared blindly in her direction.

"The fifth of January? Only two weeks before I get a Seeing Eye dog?"

"Well, that's what I read it as," she agreed. "And it's what the plane ticket says, too."

"Oh, wow!" Jarod's eyes glowed like those of a small child as he clutched the letter to him and beamed. Suddenly he turned to her. "When did it arrive?"

"Yesterday," she admitted. "And I read it to make sure it was good news before I put it under the tree."

"I think I can forgive you," he retorted with a grin.

"I'm glad to hear it." Nicole picked up another gift and read the label on it. "Santa was good to me, wasn't he?"

"Well, you've been very good, at least for the last few months," the man commented. "I'm sure he thought you deserved it."

She laughed, placing the kitten back on its cushion. Undoing the paper, Nicole peeled it back to see a bundle of beautifully knitted wool. Picking up the item, she discovered a thick woolen sweater, decorated in a snowflake pattern. Momentarily speechless, she finally looked up.

"Where did you buy it?"

Jarod looked indignant. "Can't you tell a home-made sweater when you see one?" 

"You mean you...?"

"With my own two hands," he admitted. "I found a book about knitting, and the woman at the store was very helpful when I was picking out the colors."

Nicole examined it carefully. "But there's not a stitch out of place! How could you know if you were using the right colors?"

"They all felt slightly different, although they were the same ply," he responded.

Reaching up, she hugged him and then pulled the pullover on. "Fits like a glove," she told him in amazement.

"Good." He smiled in satisfaction. "I don't know how you'll keep the cat hair off it, but that's not my problem." 

The woman laughed. "Well, you won't have to worry about that after New Year's, for almost a month."

"Very true," he admitted. "Lucky you've got someone to keep you company." 

Getting to her feet, Nicole sat down on the sofa beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder. "And you can be as independent as you want when you come back."

Jarod raised an eyebrow. "How come you never got a Seeing Eye dog?"

She shrugged. "I never had that much I wanted to do. I was happy sitting inside the house all day. The white cane was enough for that." The woman laughed. "Believe me, I'm as glad as you are about this, or almost. It'll be a big relief for me to know that somebody's here to look after you and stop you from taking another tumble down the veranda steps."

He chuckled, rubbing the bandage on his forehead. "At least I didn't break anything this time."

"Well," she retorted with a grin, "that makes a nice change."

* * *

Jarod took a pile of sweaters off the shelf in his cupboard and brought them over to the bed, on which an open suitcase was lying. Putting the clothing beside it, he sorted them into two piles and put one into the case, hearing a muffled squawk.

"Sorry, Toby," he apologized immediately, scooping the half-smothered kitten into his arms. At a sound from the doorway, he turned and sightlessly offered the animal. "Could you take your Christmas present into another room? That's the third time I've nearly packed him."

Nicole laughed as she came over to save the kitten. "I didn't even notice he was missing until I heard him protesting at your treatment. If you're not careful, he'll end up in New Jersey with you."

The man chuckled. "That would be your fault. He's your pet."

"How's it going?" Nicole asked as Toby crawled eagerly onto her shoulder and batted her hair with a gentle paw.

"Nearly done." He grinned. "But I do want you to check it over when I'm finished, to make sure I've got everything important." 

"Sure." She went over and slid her arms around his waist. "It's going to be pretty quiet around here without you, you know." 

"It's only for four weeks," he reminded her, turning to face her.

Reaching up, Nicole gently stroked his cheek with the backs of her fingers. "What I'm trying to say is that I'll miss you." 

"I know," he told her softly. "I'm going to miss you, too."

* * *

"Mr. Crawford?"

Jarod half-turned at the sound of the voice at his side. "Yes?"

"My name's Judith," the woman stated cheerfully. "I'm here to escort you onto the plane."

"Then I guess you don't need me anymore," Nicole teased. "I'll go back to Toby."

He grinned, gently squeezing her arm. "I'll talk to you tonight."

"I'm looking forward to it." The woman rapidly blinked several times, before kissing him on one cheek. "Have a good time."

"I will." Returning her embrace, he released his hold on her arm, still clutching the white cane in his other hand, listening to Nicole hand over the bag that constituted his cabin luggage.

When she had turned away, Judith gently took Jarod's hand and slid it around her arm. "So, I hear you're going to get yourself a Seeing Eye dog," she began as she led the way towards the gate.

"Well, that's certainly the plan," Jarod agreed.

"So you won't need me when you come back," she joked. "We're coming to the first security check. It's an x-ray, so you'll need to take off your jacket and empty your pockets."

Nodding, Jarod held out his cane. "Would you mind holding this for me?" 

"Sure," she agreed, taking it from him. "I'll put it on the conveyor belt and we can get it on the other side."

Jarod removed his coat and wallet, hearing them both placed onto the belt, and then slipped a hand around Judith's arm. She halted in front of the metal detector, passing through first and guiding him through it. On the other side, he put on his coat once more, returned his wallet to his pocket and then accepted the cane from his guide.

"We're a little early," Judith told him. "Have you got all the books and other things you might want?"

The man's eyes twinkled. "You sell Braille books here?"

"Actually, yes," she told him, laughing. "Interested?"

"Always," he affirmed eagerly.

* * *

"This is the luggage claiming area," Judith explained as the floor changed under Jarod's feet from carpet to linoleum. "There should be - ah, yes, there he is."

"Mr. Crawford," a cheerful male voice stated from his right. "I'm from AABBEY Limousines. I'll be driving you to Morristown. Can you tell me what distinguishing mark you put on your bags, please, so I can get them for you?"

"It's just one suitcase," Jarod replied. "Black, with a yellow star painted on either end, and with a red rag around the handle."

"Oh, yes, I see it. I'll just be a minute."

Nodding, Jarod turned to Judith. "Thanks for all your help."

"You're welcome," she told him smilingly. "I'll look forward to seeing you - the two of you - in four weeks."

"It's a date."

Jarod heard her footsteps fading and then felt the touch on his arm as the driver returned and picked up his hand luggage.

"Ready to go?"

"Absolutely." Jarod put his hand around the man's arm. "Is it far from here to Morristown?"

"No, not very far," the man responded as they left the building. "And you're nice and early, so you'll have time to get used your room and everything." 

"I thought it was better to be early," Jarod commented as he heard the driver unlock a car.

"Always good." The man gently released his arm, placing Jarod's hand on the car door. "I've opened the door for you. The seat is vacant." 

"Thanks." When the man took a step away, Jarod got into the car, hearing the door close as soon as he was settled. Several minutes later, they were underway.

* * *

"And this is your room," the woman's cheerful Scotch tones informed him as they stopped at a door. She placed his hand on the large, raised numbers on the door. "All the rooms here are marked like this, so you'll be able to find your way around."

"Good idea," he commented, feeling a key put into the palm of his hand.

"The key's on a chain," Elsbeth told him. "It has a clip on the other end, so you can attach it to your jeans, or whatever pants you want to wear."

Hearing her open the door, Jarod clipped the chain onto his belt-loop, slipped the key into his pocket, and then followed her into the room. She guided him around, describing the various items of furniture.

"What's in that corner?" he demanded as she paused, waving in the direction of a part of the room she had failed to comment on.

"Let me show you." She led him over to the corner. "Kneel down, Jarod."

He raised an eyebrow skeptically. "I beg your pardon."

"I'm serious. Kneel down."

Lowering himself to the floor, Jarod felt Elsbeth do the same. She took his hand and stretched it forward. His fingers touched material and he smiled.

"This wouldn't be a dog bed, would it?" 

"That's right," she agreed. "And, in two days, it will have an occupant."

He turned towards her, eyes sparkling. "Do you know which dog will be mine?"

"Yes, we think so." She smiled at the delight in his eyes. "We tentatively plan who'll get which dog, and over the next two days. as we get to know you better, we'll confirm it." Elsbeth helped him up. "Your bags are near the door, so I'll leave you to get unpacked. Somebody will come up and get you at midday for lunch."

* * *

"So how is it?"

"Not as nice as your place," Jarod commented as he stretched out on the bed, listening to her laugh.

"Wouldn't it qualify as 'our place'?" Nicole suggested. "After all, you have been living here for four months already."

"As long as you're happy for me to call it that," he told her, his voice softening with emotion, "I won't mind."

"When do you get your dog?" she asked, to break the silence that followed this.

"Tomorrow afternoon," he replied at once, the excitement in his voice building.

"Call me and tell me what it's like."

"Of course I will," he responded at once. "Hug Toby for me."

"I'll do that." She smiled, the sound clear in her voice. "I love you, Jarod. Have a good day tomorrow."

He smiled. "I love you too, Nicole. Don't work too hard."

* * *

Jarod heard the door of his room open and the sharp rat-tat of claws on the parquetry, turning his head sharply in that direction, and letting a book with which he had been trying to pass the time fall onto the bed. Simon, his trainer, laughed at his enthusiasm.

"I've got somebody just as eager to meet you," he teased.

There was a sharp click, which Jarod guessed was the dog's lead being released, and almost at once Jarod felt a warm body pressed up against his legs, paws landing on his knees as the animal tried to lick his face.

"Jarod, this is Charlie. He's a chocolate-colored Labrador Retriever. I thought he'd be perfect for you, because he's insatiably curious and impossible to deter whenever he gets interested in something." The trainer laughed. "Sounded like somebody I know. He was also trained in a house with a cat, which you told me that you had."

Laughing, Jarod fended off the dog's affectionate greetings, until finally the animal stood next to his knee, panting slightly, as the man fondled his ears.

"I'll be fitting both of you with your harness tomorrow, but for now you can get to know each other for an hour or so, until dinner. Everything else is here, including a bowl of water that was put in while you were at lunch." 

"Thanks," Jarod replied gratefully, smiling in the man's direction, his attention distracted again immediately as Charlie licked his hand.

With a chuckle, Simon shut the door behind himself. Jarod lowered himself to the floor, to be on the same level as the dog, and found his face being vigorously washed by a wet tongue.

"Stop it, Charlie," he protested, trying to push the dog gently away. "You silly thing."

The dog sat back on his haunches, panting, allowing Jarod to feel him all over. When he was done, the dog suddenly bolted away. Mystified, his hand brushing empty air, Jarod turned his head in several directions.

"Charlie? Where are you?"

In a second, the dog was back, pressing himself up against the man with an apologetic whine, before dropping a ball into the palm of his hand.

"Oh, was that it?" Jarod remarked. "All right, then, here you go."

He threw the ball to the opposite side of the room, hearing it hit the wall as the dog ran after it, returning only a few seconds later to drop it back into Jarod's hand. After repeating the action several times, Jarod could hear the dog lapping at the bowl of water beside his bed and stood up with a laugh, sitting on the bed.

"Time for a break, you think, huh?"

Checking his watch, Jarod discovered that it getting on for dinnertime.

"Well, what do I do with you?" he asked the dog. "I haven't got a harness, so I can't get you to take me down there, but I also don't think I'm meant to leave you up here."

Feeling Charlie nudge his arm, Jarod put his hand on the dog's head and ran it down his nose until he felt the leather strap in the animal's mouth.

"That sounds like a good compromise," he agreed, clipping the lead onto the collar around the neck of the Labrador. "Ready to go?"

Straining at the leash, Charlie gave Jarod little time to seize his white cane, almost pulling him in the direction of the elevator.

"Hey, slow down," Jarod protested. "I'm not that quick yet."

With an apologetic lick to the back of his hand, Charlie trotted at Jarod's heels to the elevator. Without being told, Charlie nudged Jarod's arm, before pointing his nose at the button. Jarod had just pushed it when he heard a laugh at his side.

"I thought I was supposed to teach you that," Simon remarked. "You're jumping ahead of the class." 

"Hey, it's not my fault!" Jarod protested indignantly. "You trained Charlie too well. I only do as I'm told."

"Oh, he's talking to you already?" Simon teased. "That was quick."

Laughing, Jarod followed the trainer into the spacious dining room and over to a corner where several guests already sat, enjoying a game of monopoly before dinner. When Simon walked over to a table where jugs of drink were laid out, Jarod followed.

"I... wanted to ask something," the blind man said hesitantly.

"Go ahead."

"Well, it's just that there's no guarantee my blindness will be permanent. What happens if - ?"

"If you should be lucky enough to get your sight back?" Simon finished for him. "Jarod, Charlie is now your dog. If you should get your sight back, be it a year or fifty years from now, it's up to you what happens to him. You can keep him as a pet, or give him back to us and we'll find a family for him to live with."

Nodding, Jarod poured himself a drink, checking that it wasn't too full.

"Just out of interest," Simon commented. "What are you going to do now? You've only got two hands, you know."

"Oh, that's easy," the other man laughed, dropping the leash. "Charlie, come to heel."

The dog followed him obediently across the room, leaving the trainer convulsed with laughter.

* * *

Jarod felt the smooth harness placed gently in his hand, already familiar from the two days of training that had filled part of the first forty-eight hours after his arrival at Morristown. Kneeling beside Charlie, he placed it in position, ensuring that the straps around the dog's body weren't too tight, before standing again and taking the handle in his right hand.

"Good," Simon affirmed. "And if you remember which hole the buckle went in, you won't have to check that each time."

"It was the sixth," Jarod responded immediately, hiding a smile, having already worked this out for himself.

Simon laughed. "You won't be so cocky in an hour, I can promise you that." He bent down to pat the dog. "Okay, Charlie, forward."

Before the word was even completed, Charlie had taken off, and Jarod found himself almost being dragged along the path. At the gate, the dog stopped so abruptly that Jarod had to take another step, putting a hand on the fence to balance himself.

"Did I miss the part where it says we're training for the Olympics?" the man gasped.

The trainer opened the gate and stepped out onto the footpath with a chuckle. "You will have slowed your usual pace of walking since losing your vision, Jarod. This is getting you back to what you were before."

"I've never walked that fast in my life," Jarod protested indignantly. "Run, maybe, but nothing that fast could ever be counted as a 'walk'." 

"With the leg injury you had, it will have reduced your fitness," Simon reminded him as they began rapidly walking down the street. "In a few days, you'll barely notice it."

"In a few days, I'll be on the verge of collapse," Jarod retorted somewhat acidly.

"Garbage," Simon shot back. "After you and Charlie start working together properly, you won't even notice it."

Somewhat resentfully, Jarod tried to keep up with the pace that the dog set, finding it difficult. The walking he had been doing had seemed to be slower than his speed before the accident, but with no visual cues to guide him, it had been difficult to be sure. But it was the attitude of the man training him that Jarod found hardest to deal with. There was no sympathy, no sign of any understanding of his situation, and no acceptance of his limitations.

After two hours of walking into walls and off curbs, Jarod felt himself seething with rage. He was grateful when they returned to the building and he could go up to his room.

Letting the door slam shut behind him, Jarod sat down on the bed with such force that it gave a loud groan, glaring in the direction of the floor. He didn't know what he resented more - that he was finding something hard, or that he didn't seem to be getting any help with overcoming his limitations. The dog came over after a moment and pressed up against his legs with a soft whine, but the man ignored him and eventually the animal went over to its bed, flopping down onto it with a sigh.

"Can I come in?" asked a voice from the doorway, making the man jump.

"You already appear to be," he muttered.

Simon shut the door and sat down. After visually examining the blind man for a moment, with understanding in his eyes, although the man couldn't see it, he spoke. "Listen, Jarod, you've got two choices," he stated. "You can be a man, or a blind man. If you're happy to be a blind man, take that white cane of yours and catch the next plane home. But if you want your life to be as close to normal as it was before the accident that robbed you of your vision, you have to learn to work with Charlie. He's been trained and knows what to do to help you get around. You still have to learn. He's going to be the one to give you back your independence, not me. If you're going to rely on me to tell you everything, you'll never be independent. The best way for me to help you is to let you make mistakes, because then you will learn, and quickly."

After a prolonged period of silence, Simon stood up. "It's your choice," he commented. "If you want to leave, nobody will stop you. But if you want your life back, you need to put up with the bruises." He smiled slightly as he opened the door. "Lunch is in ten minutes."

There was a soft click as the door shut and then Jarod raised his head. Exhaling slowly, he let his arms fall from their previous position, crossed on his chest, to lie in his lap. The words that Simon had said echoed in his head, and he knew they were true.

A man or a blind man.

Jarod straightened his shoulders as he made his decision, hearing a sound off to his right that suggested the dog had raised his head and was watching him. Turning his head towards the corner, he half-smiled.

"Well, we won't get anywhere without practice, will we Charlie?"

At the words, the dog jumped to his feet, and, as he felt something solid against his leg, Jarod realized that he had never removed the harness. Standing, he rubbed a point on his leg which still bore a scar from his operation, and which had been aching since coming into contact with a fence, before taking a firm hold of the handle.

Opening the door, Jarod followed the dog out into the corridor and locked his room. Pocketing the key, he turned his attention to the animal waiting eagerly at his heels, the dog's long tail brushing his leg at regular intervals.

"Find the stairs, Charlie. Let's get out of here." 

By paying careful attention to what was happening around him, as well as his memory of what the area contained, Jarod found himself able to preempt what the Seeing Eye dog was going to do. A feeling of satisfaction welled up in him as they walked along the streets, listening to the snatches of conversation he heard from people he passed and ensuring that he counted the curbs so that he would be able to find his way back.

* * *

Simon left the dining room with a feeling of disappointment. He was usually able to predict the temperament and likelihood of success of his clients, and had picked Jarod as one who would definitely succeed. Getting out of the elevator on the relevant floor, he went along to the door of the man's room, ready with an offer to help him pack. Simon's brow furrowed at the silence as he knocked on the door and, after a minute, tried the handle. When it proved to be locked, he went to the stairs and rapidly descended them to the lobby.

The receptionist looked up as he appeared, raising an eyebrow at the expression on his face and the concerned look he shot at the rack of keys.

"Who're you looking for?"

"Jarod Crawford," he told her. "Have you seen him in the last hour?"

"You know," a voice commented airily, "you really should try to be on time, Simon. What kind of an example does it set to your students, if you're late?"

The receptionist laughed before leaning forward to murmur, "I believe you'll find Mr. Crawford right behind you."

"Thanks," he told her drily. "I figured that one out for myself." Turning, he gave Jarod a gentle slap on the arm. "Thanks to you, too, for scaring me like that."

Jarod stretched out his left arm in a gesture of innocence, the dimples in his cheeks revealing his struggle not to laugh. "What'd I do?"

"Never mind." Simon held the door open. "Shall we go?"

"Can we find somewhere to eat?" the other man suggested as they walked down the path to the gate. "I'm starved."

"We-ell," the trainer remarked, "I'm not sure you deserve it."

"Hey, come on," Jarod protested, reaching out his left hand for the latch and finding it easily. "I missed lunch, remember?"

"And it serves you right," Simon retorted, following the man and dog through the gate. "I really wasn't planning to do restaurants until tomorrow."

"So what did you have planned for this afternoon?"

"The same as what we did this morning."

Jarod's lips twitched. "Well, if we get through that really fast, can we find somewhere to eat?"

"You have a one-track mind," Simon complained.

"Only when I'm this hungry." He rubbed his stomach. "Tell you what. My shout. I know a really good place."

"Oh, really?" The other man gave him an incredulous look. "And this 'place' your magic psychic powers showed you is where?"

Bending down, Jarod whispered in the dog's ear. As soon as the man's hand had firm hold of the harness again, Charlie was off, Simon following. At the first curb, the trainer was ready to give his usual instruction but the words died on his lips when the man stopped as the dog did, waiting until the road was clear, before giving the order that soon had them on the pavement on the other side of the road.

"Are you there, Simon, or did we leave you back at the house?" Jarod joked, as the other man remained silent. "Charlie, stop. Letis just make sure we didn't lose him."

The dog halted on the directive, and Simon pulled up beside the other man, staring blankly at him. Several seconds of silence passed, as Jarod's brown eyes twinkled with laughter, before the trainer could speak.

"What happened to you?!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he retorted with a grin. "Can we get going? Time's a-wasting. Charlie, forward."

Simon was forced to take several quick steps to catch up as the two moved confidently along the pavement. Shaking his head incredulously, he followed them to a roadside cafe in a street along which they had not yet traveled during the hours of instruction. Becoming somewhat suspicious, the trainer sat down, seeing that Jarod was, with difficulty, suppressing the urge to laugh.

"Go ahead," Simon told the other man acidly. "Smirk. Otherwise you'll do yourself an injury of some sort. But at least take care of your dog first." 

Jarod grinned as Charlie curled up underneath the chair. "How can I? You haven't taught me that part yet."

* * *

"You're moping," a voice from the doorway remarked, and Nicole looked up to find Ann, her arms folded on her chest, laughingly glaring at her.

"I'm not moping," she contradicted immediately. "I'm - thinking."

Ann snorted, coming into the room and sitting down in the chair on the other side of the desk with a grin. "Face it, you're missing him."

"That doesn't mean I'm moping," Nicole retorted, standing to put away the file on her most recent patient.

"You're just quiet, withdrawn, solitary - you don't even come down to lunch anymore!"

"And the food here is such a temptation, I don't know how I manage not to eat it."

"When did he last call?"

Nicole raised an eyebrow. "None of your business."

At this juncture, the cell phone on the desk rang. Ann tried to grab it, but Nicole was quicker and snatched it away.

"My reaction time was always faster than yours," she teased her friend as she activated the call. "Nicole Austen."

"Hi," a deep voice murmured in her ear. "Is this a bad time?"

"No," Nicole told him. "Ann was just leaving."

"Yes, apparently Ann was just leaving," her friend added, laughing, as she stood up. "Say hello to Mystery Man for me."

"I will, if he calls," the brunette shot back. When Ann was gone, Nicole sat down, twirling a strand of hair around her finger as she spoke. "How's it going?"

"Better," Jarod admitted. "How about you?"

"The day just improved out of sight," she smiled. "But I'm looking forward to you being back."

"Me, too," he confessed. "How's Toby?"

"Still sulking when I first get home, until I feed him."

"Maybe I should try that too," the man laughed.

"It wouldn't work."

"Why not?"

"I don't feed you," she reminded him, grinning, as she turned the chair to stare out of the window of her office. "You feed me."