*****059

Monday packed for Alaska, it was March and they'd be gone for at least three weeks. So she and Danny were coming with Tracy on location. Tracy checked everything, and then left for her final day of shooting it on the sound stage. It would her busiest day ever. She had an interview on The Tonight Show with none other than Johnny Carson, whom Richard had spent the majority of the night prepping her for and warning her about. Carson was professional, and succinct. He wasn't rude, but he didn't socialize, and never tried to make you comfortable. You held your own. Being on the Tonight Show had its benefits, seeing as it was the most popular Night time talk show in all of history and had already been running for close to twenty years, but it was also like facing the suicide squad.

"It's eight minutes." Tracy told him as he patted her butt on her way out the door to Rocks. She'd see him on set later. Even though he was gimping around and sometimes still on crutches, and more often than not exhibited signs of irritability and surliness, he'd stayed off drugs and alcohol for the whole time he'd been in recovery, and therefore had been eligible for baptism with his mother over the weekend.

Tracy had not been particularly happy that he and Louise couldn't wait to allow her to be there at this special event, but said she understood it was a spiritual moment between the two of them. No one else had been invited either.

"It can be a grueling eight minutes. It will seem like forever."

"I'm singing. We're watching a two-minute clip of the film. That will take up time." She slung her bag over her shoulder, and kissed his cheek. "Gee, thanks, Brother Mann, for taking such good care of me.

He winked at her, but her eyes did not smile back. She'd already moved on to the next phase of her day, and it was only six.

At Rocks, Michael had clocked time out for her exclusively, and they worked for four hours without stopping. A new album was being released soon, and it needed perfecting. At eleven there was a photo shoot for her album cover--- and she whisked herself away to another Rocks room and then the beach for that. Ten costume changes later, she was flying to Los Angeles, only a fifteen-minute hop, to be on stage. An hour later, completely in costume--- and makeup, she took the stage with Austin, inside the same Native American teepee they'd been in before, but this time dressed for battle. It was a gripping scene that defined the two character's feeling for each other, and his reluctance to allow her to defend herself and risk being killed in the process.

It was in the middle of this that her assistant called a halt rather unexpectedly, and everybody leaned in, wondering why. Tracy turned on her hands and knees to face Austin and scrunched up her lips. "I'm going to throw up."

Richard had gimped forward, being the Director on set, and ascertained the problem. Her assistant helped her up and a break was called. Instead of consulting, Richard followed her to her dressing room.

"What's wrong?"

"She's feeling unwell."

He cocked his head, watching her for signs of headache. She wasn't sparking. She slammed the bathroom door and the unmistakable signs of puking met their ears.

"Om.... No." He opened the bathroom door and leaned over to hold her hair back, offering a paper towel. She took it without looking at him.

"You're not on a build." He'd already touched the back of her neck.

She shook her head.

"Too much sex over the weekend?"

Her eyes slid up from the white basin, her lips smeared, a watery build up, not tears in her lashes. "Shut up."

"I wasn't sure you'd go through with it." He whispered low, his voice strained, his stance tight and annoyed.

"I told you I was marrying him."

"You didn't say you were doing it now, you said in the summer."

"He'll be gone."

"So, you wanted to jump in bed right away and get a lead on starting the whole family thing?"

"Shut up!" She struggled to her feet.

"Tracy, why didn't you tell me? We've been---."

"I've never been less than honest with you."

"No, you've always said you were marrying Raine, and even that you loved him, but Tracy--- how can you commit to him, when you know you love me too?"

She flung out an arm, indicating the assistant still standing there, the doors open wide for the whole curious crew as well. She wiped her mouth on the paper towel. "I haven't eaten anything today. I took my herbs, but I think I need some toast or something. Can you have someone get me some crackers or toast?"

He made the order and then blew out his breath, angrily facing the raging disappointment he felt. "I feel betrayed."

"I never led you on."

"No, you had me move in with you and you nursed me back to freaking health, and off my only escapes, leaving me nothing." He flung out his own hand, and slapped it on the counter forcefully. "Do you know what it's like for me, cuddling you at night in that see-through white gown you always wear, and then knowing you gave it all up to him?"

"You're about to get slapped again." She hissed, pushing against his chest. "Those moments were sweet, and--- and treasured and shared as friends do----."

"Your stupid perverted friends maybe--- Bridget and Julian, all doggie piling in the same bed, doing God knows what----."

"You shut up!" She shoved him out of the tiny space. "I wish I'd never helped you. You're not the man I thought." Then she gagged and held her hair while she threw up again, kneeling next to the commode, heaving.

Richard rolled his eyes, gave orders for everyone to leave, including the assistant, while he took her heavy hair and held it back, diffusing the sudden hostility build that raged just under the surface.

The door popped open again and Austin brought in some crackers. "What the hell is going on in here? Amber said you were fighting. That's real professional, Richard." He handed him the crackers and crowded into the doorway, where Tracy was cleaning herself off once again. "Have you got the flu? Eat something bad?"

She shook her head, her eyes red-rimmed and accusatory staring at Richard's brown ones, heart thumping wildly.

"Get out." She said. "Get out of my dressing room, get out of my house."

He turned and stomped with his good foot. He made it to the door and then turned to see Austin squat next to her. His whole insides were shaking in outrage. Right now, he couldn't even allow Austin to touch her.

"Austin, I love you, man, but please leave us for just one more minute. I can handle this. Give us a minute."

Austin looked back and forth between them until Tracy finally got to her feet, nodding, her back to them both.

"May I remind you both that the scene was nearing completion. We almost had it there."

Tracy nodded, waving feebly behind her, as he shut the door, none too pleased. She didn't turn, but got a towel and wet the tips, washing her lips. She retrieved her toothbrush and toothpaste and started brushing her teeth. Her eyes were glassy, and still very tortured.

"You said--yesterday, you said--good for me. You accepted my choices."

"I did. You're right." He sighed heavily. "I didn't realize how badly your choices affected me at the time."

"They don't affect you." She murmured against the toothbrush, distractedly.

"I see." He hung his head. "I guess I felt differently. I guess all our time together meant something more to me than it did to you."

She spit unceremoniously, and rinsed and spit again. When she turned to him her eyes were steely and resigned. "I guess it did."

He hung his head, rubbing the back of his neck. "You still want me to leave?"

"I think that would be for the best, yes."

"I'm taking another project after this one wraps. I'll be out of the country."

Tracy felt her heart clench, but shivered and set her chin at a higher angle. "Good."

He shook his head, his eyes tortured as he stalked as well as he could with his air cast, limping, hurting--- in all ways. Deeper pain than he'd ever felt before. Bewildering pain, because he couldn't understand the sense of profound loss he was experiencing. It wasn't his place. He'd pursued a woman clearly already involved with another man, what did he expect? Why? Why had he done that?

It wasn't his way, wasn't how he saw himself. And yet he'd felt drawn to her like no other.

He turned at the door. "And then after the--the other project, in Mongolia, mind you, I think--I think I'm going on a mission."

Her eyes lit up at this thought, and he bit his lips, wishing she'd said no, she couldn't stand to be away from him that long; he knew she couldn't. She'd been calling him non-stop, sharing the good and the bad, creating this bond between them for months. This whole thing was wrong, so wrong, on so many levels.

He finally shut the door and left her to her musings, whatever they might be, he needed to cool off.

Tracy slumped her hip against the washstand, and closed her eyes, letting her head fall back. Now her eyes did fill with tears. She'd made the right choice,  she knew it. Richard would have been a hard road—Richard would have been an exciting road--- but it would be filled with hardship. Raine was perfect--- Raine was stable, Raine was right.

She drew in her breath sharply. She'd seen the betrayal in his eyes. She knew she'd put it there.

She recalled the nights she had stayed in his room when she didn't need to be there. Nights she'd checked him, and then ran traitorous fingers through his beautiful dark wavy hair, traced the outline of brow and lips. Nights, she'd massaged, coming to know every inch of him, every nuance of expression, every hope and dream, and nightmare.

She'd given him that--- a part of her she'd never given anyone---

And now she'd ripped it out--- in favor of what was safe, what was right---

She could hear them outside the door. She was wasting everyone's time. Holding her stomach, she braced herself, straightened her shoulders and nibbled another cracker. Nerves--this was all nerves and cramming too much into one day. And it wasn't over--- it wasn't over.

*****