Skirmish -- a small fight you can walk away from if you choose to... or maybe not.

Bringing both hands up to her face, Tala roughly scrubbed at her face to rid it of the tears and of the emotions that were threatening to overtake her.  “I’m sorry about the scene up there.  I… it… ohhh…” she reran what happened back before her.  “I deserved what I got, and he didn’t.  And I need…” Tala honestly didn’t want to say what she needed to do, but at the same time, she knew exactly what needed to be done.  The question was if she could do it.  “… I need to apologize to him.  Do… do you think that you can manage for a little while so I can do just that?” she asked Zoë before she lost her nerve.

        ‘Since when did I become so maternally minded,’ Zoë thought when she patted Tala’s hand and sent her off to make her apology to Maxwell.  Watching the door close behind her, she murmured under her breath, “I just hope to heavens that he got nothing more from Edward than his gender.”

PART ONE

        When her mother sent her away, Tala headed back down the hall, up in the elevator and go back out to the gardens once more.  Tala glanced around and finally found Maxwell.  He had moved to another rosebush, and she stopped a few yards from him and saw the now many cuts and scraps on his shoulders and arms.  From the way that he was yanking out the weeds and throwing them over his shoulder, she could still tell that he was most definitely angry.  Swallowing hard, Tala finally found the nerve to approach him.  "Maxwell?  May I talk with you, please?"  Tala asked of him as softly and nicely as she could. 

        "Why?" Maxwell barked distrustfully at her, his anger clear in his voice.  "You need a second try to finish ripping my throat out?"  He watched her jump a little, but she didn't retreat.  "Go on," Maxwell snapped, throwing the trowel down.  Sitting back on his heels, Maxwell crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her.  To make sure she knew how hot he was, Maxwell tipped his head to one side and pointed at the jugular vein.  "Here.... now you've got a good, clean shot at it!"

        Tala found the position that he was in almost humorous and it took an effort to hide the smile that was trying to form on her face.  Licking her lips, she stepped toward him, coming within a foot of him and got down on her knees before him. 

        He still had his head cocked to the side and she finally reached out and straightened up his head.  “You’ll get a crook in your neck, if you continue that.  I… I came to explain and to apologize to you.  If you’ll let me,” she told him gently as she took her hands away from his jaw.

        Maxwell knew how to take a reprimand, a scolding, even a dressing down when he had it coming, but this was the first time that he’d been practically accused of something without having the faintest clue as to what he’d done.  And now Tala had come back and was laughing at him?  ‘Great way to salve things over… laugh at the other person?’ he thought.

        He jerked his face away from her hands as she pulled them back.  “Explain what?” he asked rather shortly, getting up and stepping back away from her.  “I had never so much as laid eyes on you before a few days ago,” he told her, “And then you jump me with claws bared?”

        "I know, I know... and I was a rude, unbearable, totally out of line bitch.  I know.  I'm accused of that all the time.  And I… this week has been one of the worst ones of my entire life… especially the last two or three days and I let it go on you and I shouldn't have. And I want to apologize, but if you don't let me, I can be a demanding persistent bitch until you listen to me.  So, will you give me the chance to explain what happened and why it happened and apologize or am I going to have to follow you around the rest of the day until you let me do just that?  And before you respond, just remember one thing… I have my mother's persistence."

Even though it was plain she was trying to apologize, the way she was expressing herself was getting Max’s back up.  When she finally shut up, Maxwell again crossed his arms tightly over his chest, fixed her with a narrow, baleful look.  "And I was brought to extend the courtesy of listening to whoever is speaking," he said tightly.  "So... start talking.  I'm listening."

        Looking up at him from where she was sitting, Tala took in a deep breath and licked at her dry lips.  ‘Heaven help me because dad my skin me alive for telling this man everything that I'm about to say... but he deserves to understand everything up to this point,’ she thought.  "It's a rather long story.  Will you please sit down?"

        Maxwell quirked an eyebrow at her and didn’t move.

        "Okay."  Tala closed her eyes for a brief moment and gathered her thoughts.  Looking back up into his eyes, she began.  "It started a few days ago.  I have been searching for my family . . . my parents for a while now.... for over 14 years, and hadn't gotten anywhere.  It was Tuesday when I found out that Miss Zoë was my mother... and that," Tala hesitated as she looked away from him for a brief moment.  Meeting his eyes once more, she told him not sure how'd he react.  "That Lothos is my father."  His face was still bland of expression except for anger so she continued on.

        "I was terribly aggravated that Lothos had kept this a secret from me all my life.  I didn't have a family - I had tutors.  Anyway... I was very insolent and disrespectful to him and was sent to correction for 24 hours."  Tala sat back on her bottom and looked down at the grass, not wanting to see his anger any longer.

        "After my correction, I was sent to the infirmary where I had a very bad reaction to the correction... temporary amnesia... and I didn't remember anything.  These marks . . ." Tala motioned to the still dark marks on her lower jaw.  "These were from a haphazard whip. I didn't even know it.

        "Anyway... Lothos... I mean... dad told me that I needed to be with mom, so that we can build our relationship, but I… I didn't like her to begin with.  And... after spending one day with her, I could see why she didn't want me at first. 

        “Later that night, I met up with Dr. Edward Grant in the Moonlight Hideaway and had some drinks with him.  I thought that one drink… wouldn't hurt.  Something was in it... and when I woke up, I was in my quarters ... and he was ... raping me.  All night."  Tala swallowed hard as she saw him slowly lower himself to the ground.  "He sedated me when he was finished and left.  Wednesday night, he was put to death.  It was Wednesday night that a group of women heard something that surprised us all... especially Edward.  He found out that he had a son."

        Tala looked up at Maxwell then.  "Olivia told him herself as well as the group in the room.  She called your name.  That is why I acted the way that I did toward you.  And... I'm so terribly sorry.  I shouldn't have...."

        If Tala had slammed a club into his face, Tala couldn’t have stunned him more.  His emotions were churning, a spinning morass of anger, confusion and suspicion.  He knew his thoughts weren’t clear at this moment as he was reacting purely on emotional instinct.  Even as she apologized, Maxwell jumped up and backed away from her, his breath coming hard and fast.

        "Like father, like son, huh?" Maxwell responded hotly.  Glaring into her eyes, he added one more thought before he turned to stride away from her.  "Thanks for giving a stranger the benefit of the doubt.  Good day, Miss Tala."

        Tala jumped up to his feet and followed him.  She couldn’t let it go.  Going after him, she called out, “Maxwell, please.  I… we need to talk…” She finally caught up to him and rushed around in front of him to stop him.  “Please.”

PART TWO

After watching what had just happened between Tala and Maxwell, Lothos was disappointed in his daughter telling this man what happened the other night after telling her not to, but . . . in this case, he was going to have to think about a suitable punishment for his daughter, but that didn't mean he was going to wait until he thought of that punishment to let her know that her disobedience of his direct order to her - as well as the other women - had been observed. 

        "Commander Adlams," Lothos spoke aloud into the man's office on the complex's first level where Security was headquartered. "Send a man to the gardens to take Tala Lothoman into custody immediately."

        Hearing Lothos addressing him to give him a specific order, Commander Richard Adlams didn't need to be told twice; he also knew better than to ask the stupid question, "Why?"  It didn't matter what the 'why' was.  When Lothos gave you an order, you carried it out. Period.

        "Yes, Sir," Adlams responded then picked up the phone on the corner of his desk and punched in the three-digit code that came instantly to mind.

        Quint Sylvane was just turning the corner to head back to the dispatch area of Security to check back in when he felt the small black pager clipped to his belt, vibrate.  Wondering, he stopped in his steps and responded to it, clicking the 'talk' button as he held it to his lips.  "Sylvane," he responded.

        "Quint," the commander's voice was clear and direct. "Get to the gardens."

        Hearing that, the guard turned around and started back toward the exit he'd just left a couple of minutes before. "What's up?" he asked, as he approached the main entrance area and starting toward the guards at the double doors.

        "Locate and take Tala Lothoman into custody."

        Quint couldn't help himself; he stopped a few feet from Joel Riddal, one of the door guards. Keying the communicator, he couldn't help asking, "What's she done?"

        "Lothos ordered it," Richard Adlams retorted sharply.  He hung up the phone after saying that; there wouldn't be any reason for Officer Sylvane to call back and inquire further.  The security officer had been told all he needed to know.

        Ending the communication, Quint Sylvane pressed his lips together slightly as he clipped the device to his belt again.  "Business," was all he said to Joel, who had already started opening one of the doors.  Quint marched past him and outside.  Pausing a moment, he looked around. Not seeing anyone, he spoke to one of the several gardeners on duty.

        "Have you seen Tala Lothoman?"  When the man frowned, clearly not recognizing the name, shook his head, Quint tried another tack.  "She's about my height... dark red hair..." he paused then added, "She has a whip mark on her face just about here..." He indicated an area just under his jaw line.

        "Oh, her," the man responded, nodding.  "Yeah.  I just saw her in the third garden down that way," he pointed straight ahead of where they were standing.  "I saw her talking to Robinson."

        Thanking the man, Quint quickened his pace though he wasn't looking forward to reacquainting with Tala Lothoman in this manner.  A corrections detention rarely ever failed not to put a damper on a woman's enthusiasm to any sort of relationship.  And – ‘dammit’ - he had to admit to himself that that's what he'd been hoping for even after her odd reaction to him about five minutes before.

        As it turned out, he didn't need any more help in locating the pretty redhead.  The sound of a male voice, the tone decidedly frosty, snapping, "Why? Aren't you afraid to even be so close we breathe the same air?  Remember, I'm the son of the man who raped you," was directional signal enough.

        Drawing even with the garden entrance on the right, Quint came to a halt and for a moment just watched Tala Lothoman and the gardener, Max Robinson.  Judging by the look on Max's face, the guard figured he'd arrived just in time to prevent what had the markings of a really good fight – especially after what he heard.  ‘Damn, what a way to talk to a woman about your father being her rapist!’ he thought.  ‘No wonder she’d acted the way she had.’

        "Tala Lothoman?" Quint spoke her name firmly, his tone authoritative, drawing both Tala and Max's attention instantly. He didn't like it when she responded, obviously annoyed at being interrupted, "What do you want?"

        ‘Why do they always cop an attitude?’ he wondered as he reached behind him for the handcuffs attached to the back of his belt then started toward her.

        Tala glanced at the guard as he started toward her before she totally dismissed him and turned back to Maxwell.  "Dammit, Maxwell," she ranted under her breath and took a step toward him and into his personal space.  "We need to talk because it's obviously going to help both of us.  Hell, if it helps, just hit me.  Go ahead."  She told him, but before he said or did anything, she stepped closer to him, their faces only a few inches away from each other.  "I was scared of Edward... not you.  So, before you begin to throw words back at me that I just told you, get one thing straight.  No one will take the one thing that he was trying to take.... my spirit.  So go ahead and give me your best shot, Max."

        Tala felt the guards’ presence bearing down on her and she grabbed Max's arm and pulled him at least a few feet away from the guard but Max flung his arm away from her and stepped back.  "Why?  So you can add that to the list of black marks that you've put against me already?  I don't think so."  Max shook his head then added; "Now you're telling me I resemble my father?" She started to open her mouth but he pointed his finger sharply at her, almost at the end of her nose.  "You'd never seen me, but the instant you figured everything out, suddenly I was a cross between Jack the Ripper and Hannibal Lector! As for your spirit...." he raked her with an angry glance.  "Keep it."  Again he turned and began walking away giving the guard, Quint, a look – ‘good luck buddy, hauling her away’ and started back toward one of the other gardens.  He paused for a moment then turned back to her.  "I'll do my best to be sure that you never have to lay eyes on me again... Miss Tala, and give Miss Zoë, my best regards.  Good day."

        Tala watched as Maxwell walked away then glanced at the guard who had actually stopped in his tracks to just watch them.  "Enjoying the show?" she asked hotly then immediately turned and started to walk away as she felt a tightness begin to form around her chest.  Rolling her eyes, she reached down into her pocket and frowned.  She heard the guard call out her name once more.

        Quint didn't know why he was being so lenient with her, letting her walk away, but he knew that he had to take her in.  "Miss Lothoman," he called out once more to her and noticed her digging in her pocket. 

        "Great... just great," Tala remarked to herself not only because of not having her inhaler, but also because of the guard now hot on her tail to take her inside.

        "Come now, Miss Lothoman," he said plainly.  "You know how this works," he said as he approached her form.  It was then that he saw her put a hand to her chest.  "Miss... Tala?" he asked carefully.

        Without a second thought, Quint shoved the handcuffs into his pocket, forgetting the reason he was here; at the moment it was clear that Tala was beginning to have difficulty breathing.  Going quickly to her, he reached her just in time to see her eyes roll back in her head, catching her as she keeled over.  He also caught the last gasped, sort of strangled words, "Maxwell... please... help me."

        Maxwell had never been so furious in all his life as he continued to stride away from Miss Zoë’s daughter.  ‘I’m not even going to use her name,’ he thought hotly.  But for as easy as it would be to keep going and let her stand there with the guard, he could hear Aunt Josie’s voice in his head… and he stopped and turned around.   "You're the only reason I'm going back to her, Aunt Josie," Max muttered.  "I'd rather eat broccoli three times a day for a month than do this but...." 

As he started back the way he came, he looked up and stopped suddenly, startled by the sight of Miss Tala lying on the ground.  "Great!" he muttered as he raced back to her.  Not even the sight of the guard beside her as he started to pick her up stopped him. "What happened?" Max demanded.

Quint spared the angry gardener a look as he gathered Tala's unconscious form into his arms and stood up. "Not sure," he retorted as he turned toward the garden entrance. "But judging by her color, she's not doing well."

Maxwell Robinson scanned Tala's face, then down to her chest.  It was obvious that she wasn't breathing.  Stepping in front of the guard who had moved only five feet, Max shook his head as he grabbed for Tala's body.

"What are you doing?" Quint growled at him as he tried to hold onto the woman in his arms.

"Saving her ungrateful ass, that's what," Max retorted as he successfully took her from the guard and laid her on the ground.  Tilting her head back to open her air passage, Max began blowing into her mouth then raised up on his knees to put his hands on her solar plexus.  "If you're smart, you'll get someone up here... unless you want her to die," Max said with a shake of his head before he switched again to breath into her mouth once more. 

Quint swallowed the remarks that the gardener said then ran off toward the complex to get help for the woman he had come up to get. 

Max continued his CPR and muttered words of distain for the guard.  "Moron..." he finally let out the last snippet before he felt the presence of someone upon him again.  He turned back to see Quint standing beside him.

Once Quint had returned, he heard the comment Max had uttered then went around the fallen woman to replace Max who he could tell was beginning to tire.  "You... continue there... I'll give air," he said before he began to try to bring back the young woman who had somehow already managed to get under his skin in more than one way.

            If it wasn't necessary to continue with the rescue efforts to keep Tala breathing, Max was ninety-nine percent certain that he'd have ignored the security guard.  But making sure that the young woman on the ground got air until the emergency team could reach her superceded what he wanted to do, and so the gardener just did what he'd been told.  By the time the medical team reached them, Tala had begun to show signs of trying to breathe on her own.

Yet it wasn't until the team had her on a stretcher and was rushing her back into the complex that Max allowed himself to relax. 

Vaughn tilted his head to the side and looked at the man standing beside him.  “You handled that quite well.  She should thank you when she’s feeling better,” he said bluntly and quick to the point.

"She will."  Glancing at the man's nameplate on the left shoulder of his uniform, Maxwell raked him head to toe in a single indifferent glance.  "She's a lady."  Turning to go back to work...he still had about three hours of pruning to do, Max didn't get a half dozen steps before he stopped in his steps, his hackles already rising at the other man's cocky response. 

Quint was more than thankful that the gardener had helped the woman that he could see becoming more intimate with.  Seeing the gardener rake him with a look, Quint heard his response and couldn't help but watch the man begin to walk away from him.  He licked his lips and even though he knew that he shouldn't start something while on duty, he couldn't help it.  It was the investigator in him that asked, "If you were such a gentleman to the lady, then why where you arguing with her so loudly in such an un-gentlemanly way?" 

Turning slowly, Max faced the security officer.  He'd never set eyes on this one, but first impressions were good enough to jumpstart a near instant dislike of him.

Quint shook his head slightly.  "Well, I heard all I needed to hear to know that she was trying to talk and you were trying to run away.  Any reason for that?" he asked taking a few steps toward the man preparing himself for an explosion.  He had been in many a fight, and had won most of them; thus earning him his right as a guard.  Getting within four feet of the gardener, Quint fixed him with knowing look.

He had been raised in an atmosphere of good manners and hard work, but at the moment, the last thing on Maxwell Robinson's mind was civility as he watched the security officer moved toward him.  The man's last words were enough to set his blood to a low simmer.

"Not that it's any business of yours," Max stated flatly, not even a flicker of intimidation anywhere about him as he held the other man's gaze.  "But she all but accused me of something I had nothing to do with, and when I didn't fall all over myself to accept her apology, I guess it was more than she could handle.

“And when you came roaring out, it was doing then what I was just doing now."  When the guard asked with a look what that was, Max lifted his chin, his gaze narrowing as he said, "Walking away."

"You always run away?"

        Max felt his, so far, controlled anger begin to slip the short lead he had it on at that.  Moving to within an arm's length...just the right distance for throwing a punch and bloodying this jerk's nose... he aimed a hard stare at the man.  He glanced at the nameplate on the uniform: Quinton Sylvane.

"Walking away from a potential argument isn't 'running,'... officer."  Max didn't care at that moment what Officer Sylvane thought of his reply, or anything else for that matter.  "Sometimes," he added, "it prevents you saying ... or doing... something you wish you hadn’t done, later.  Now, are you going to detain me for handling my affairs my own way, or can I get on about my work, officer?"

Quinton rocked his teeth back and forth just for the act of something to do as he watched the gardener for a moment.  Swallowing down the smile that wanted to creep up onto his face, Quint licked his lips once more then said, "No detaining. By all means, go on about your work." 

Quint watched as Maxwell turned his head slightly before fixing him with another look then turned.  He let the gardener walk about seven feet away before he said aloud to himself, "If it were me, sometimes, just a good solid kiss just takes care of the whole ordeal, but... it doesn't always work for everyone."

It usually took a great deal to get on the wrong side of Maxwell Robinson; most people who knew him rarely ever came close.  At the moment, however, Officer Quinton Sylvane had discovered a hyper speed shortcut to the wrong side of the usually easygoing gardener.

        "I wouldn't know," Max shot back, his expression mirroring the shortness of his tone.  "I've never been one for manhandling a woman to get her to see my point.  But then," he paused, staring unblinking into the other man's eyes. "I was raised in a civilized home and taught manners."  The corners of his mouth twitched for a second as if he meant to smirk, but the smirk never appeared.  "I don't need to use force with a woman... though I know there are some who have no other alternative."

        He waited for the officer to pop off.  It wasn't like it might not happen; it was going to happen.  It was just a question of how many seconds it would take for the blonde smartass to think up an appropriate response. 

Quinton Sylvane’s relaxed at ease expression immediately went to tense and alert as he stepped up to the young man before him.  His muscular features tensed as he stared at Maxwell Robinson.  His pithy retort back to the man he kept on the tip of his tongue, knowing that if he got into a fight while he was on duty, that he would be no better than the man standing before him. 

Meeting him toe to toe, Quinton told him icily, “It’s not the time nor the place to have this discussion, Mr. Robinson. I’m on duty and you’re lucky that I’m not taking you inside for instigating something with that lovely woman.  Watch your step, Robinson.  The next time you pop off to anyone, I’ll be there to take care of it.”

        Giving him a glare, Quinton turned slightly and began to walk around Maxwell Robinson, but when a hand came out and grabbed his arm and turned him back, Quinton already had one hand balled up ready for his first strike.  The security patrol was his job and if this little English brat needed to go down; he’d be more than happy to take care of it.

Not flinching at the security officer's icy retort, Maxwell waited about ten seconds then grabbed the man's arm and spun him around to face him again.

"Are you threatening me?" he asked, his tone and attitude cool in direct opposition to the heat of his temper seething just below the surface.

"Threatening?" Quinton raked the man before him with a glare then took a step back yanking his arm away from Maxwell.  "No.  I'm not threatening anyone, Mr. Robinson.  It's a promise." 

        It was then that Quinton took a few more steps backward out of swinging range then turned to head back toward the complex.  Over his shoulder, he called out, "I don't know about you, Mr. Robinson, but..." Quint glanced back at the gardener watchfully over his shoulder.  "I keep my promises." 

        With that said, Quint continued back toward the complex.  Not only did he need to check back in with Commander Adlam, he wanted to go by in a little bit to check up on Ms. Lothoman.  He just hoped that she was going to be okay.

        Maxwell just stood, watching the security guard march back to the complex, entering the double doors without so much as another glance backward.  For a minute, if that long, he just glared at the double doors; that was about as long as he could hold in his temper.

"Conceited bastard!" he muttered hotly, wishing he had something he could have thrown that would go straight through the complex doors and crack open Officer Quinton Sylvane's head.  Instead, he had to settle for finishing the remainder of his twelve hour shift; not once did it occur to him to wonder why the other gardeners working the same shift gave him --and the lopping shears and hedge clippers he used-- a wide berth.  Not even on lunch break did he notice that he sat alone under a tree as he ate.

        By six o'clock the worst of Maxwell's temper had been diffused, the trees and hedges now neatly and precisely trimmed having been the outlet for that temper.  Feeling more drained than he could recall being at the end of even the most arduous of shifts, he put his tools away, clocked out and headed for his quarters.  But, as luck would have it, he didn't even get to wash off the sweat and grime before he heard Lothos addressing him through his implants.

PART THREE

Lothos watched everything in his complex as well as on his land.  He knew everything that happened and watching the two men boast each other and try to put each in their place even after helping his daughter, he enjoyed it a bit more than he should.  He was just satisfied with the thought that he wouldn't have to coax anyone into bed with Tala as he had done for Siren.

        "Maxwell," Lothos called to him through his implants as he watched him putting up the gardening tools.  "Please report what has happened to Ms. Zoë.  She is in her quarters."  When Lothos saw his nod, Lothos added, "It was very... interesting words that were spoken this afternoon with Mr. Sylvane.  Proceed," he said then went silent not expecting an answer.

        Upon hearing his instructions, Max allowed himself only a measured sigh as his finger moved from the elevator button that would send it to the bachelor men's level to the level where Dr. Malvison's quarters were located.  He wasn't thrilled with the idea of showing up at a friend as well as a lady's door in his present state, but one didn't argue with Lothos, not if they had any sense.

        The elevator ride was brief, and Max did his best to segregate himself from the few other people.  There was no way he didn't hear the couple of muttered comments by a couple of the women, and the little boy that announced loudly to his mother and anyone within earshot, "He stinks, mama.  He needs a bath. Just like you say daddy does when he's dirty."

        Keeping his thoughts to himself, Max walked quietly along the halls until he reached his destination.  Pausing to take a deep breath and run his hands over the seat of his pants to rid them of any smudges of dirt, he lifted one hand and knocked twice then waited for permission to enter.

        Hearing the knock on the door, Dr. Zoë Malvison frowned and wondered why her daughter was so late and being so formal in requesting permission to enter.  She had walked to sit and just talk with her, not necessarily anything in general, except maybe to remark on how well the men looked around the complex.  Zoë smiled to herself remembering Tala's tsking at her window shopping of Maxwell Robinson.

        "Come in, you silly goose," Zoë called out to her daughter.  "You don't have to knock, Tala.  You are more than welcome to enter."

        It was when the door opened to reveal Maxwell Robinson, an instant frown etched on her features.  "Maxwell.  What are you..."  Instant concern and fear mixed on her face.  "Where's Tala?  What's happened to my daughter?"  Even though she knew that she wasn't supposed to move herself in the chair, she did so, at least a few feet toward the door.  "Don't stand there looking at me like a dope, Maxwell!  Tell me!  Where's my daughter!?"

        It was his first personal experience of the sharpness of her tongue, now especially so with the focus of her concern being her daughter.  He watched as she managed to move the wheelchair toward him, her usually sparkling light brown eyes now cloudy with concern.

        "She's in the infirmary, Ms. Zoë," he began.  Seeing startlement replace the annoyance in her expression, he hurriedly added, "She had an attack...asthma, I guess... in the gardens.  But she's okay.  The emergency medical team got there in nothing flat and took her ... to the infirmary."  He swallowed when she demanded, "When did this happen?"  Max glanced away for a moment then met her eyes again, saying, "A few minutes after you went back inside the complex...this morning."

        The young English gardener then got his initiation into his friend's infamous temper and attitude.  It was a initiation he wouldn't soon forget.

        Zoë Malvison's face became beat red with anger as she glanced at the clock – six seventeen.  She turned her fury back toward the young man.  "We went up there about nine thirty or ten and I haven't been told ANYTHING for over eight hours!?  I THOUGHT she was up there with YOU, TALKING and getting to KNOW you!" she hissed at him.  "What happened, Mr. Robinson, to your English manners, hmm?" she demanded glaring at him.  "Did you forget them?  Did you not think that I might want to be down there with her?!" 

        Seeing him drop his head down slightly, Zoë demanded, "Eyes front and center!  Either you tell me now, or you'll be in chains for the rest of the week, MR. Robinson!"

        "I'm sorry, Ms. Zoë," Max offered at the first salvo of furiously put demands and questions, but he would have been better off had he not even spoken.  He quickly realized that she hadn't heard him, and decided to take the brunt of the fiery blast seething at him.  For a moment he lowered his head, glancing at the floor, then just as quickly snapped to a semi-form of attention, his eyes focused on a clearly furious Zoë Malvison.  This Zoë, however, wasn't in a mood for anything but the truth, and Max wondered if even that might get him in the chains she had just threatened.

        "Like I just said, Ms. Zoë..."

He flinched when Zoë snapped back, "Dr. Malvison to you, Mr. Robinson!" 

        "Yes, ma'am," he responded, nodding his understanding.  "As I said a moment ago, Dr. Malvison, she had an attack."  Seeing her lips press together in a thin line, her eyes now all but blazing, he hurried on.  "We ... had words and she stormed off.  But then she ... she tried to apologize and I..." he paused, took another breath and continued. "But I wouldn't accept it, and walked off."  The expression on his friend's face told him that with every word he was digging himself in deeper but there was no turning back now.

        "She said some really nasty...uncalled for things, Ms.... Dr. Malvison.  She all but accused me of something that I had nothing to do with and...." he hesitated as Tala Lothoman's accusations flitted through his mind again. "And something that I had no control over.  And... well... it just made me madder so I just walked away from her.  Thought it was better than saying something I might regret."  He paused, licked his lips and opened his mouth as if to say something to her, and then read her gaze and finished.

        "As I was walking away from her, a security officer...Officer Sylvane... was heading in our direction; he walked past me.  It wasn't until I heard him asking Ms. Tala if she was okay that I turned around and saw her ... on the ground."

        The thunderous darkening of Zoë Malvison's expression touched the first spark of uneasiness of her in his mind.  He took a half step toward her, stretching one hand out as if in supplication to her as he said, "We...Officer Sylvane and I performed CPR on her until the medical team got there. After that," Max's voice dropped a bit but was nonetheless still clear as he looked into her eyes. "I ... I was just so angry that I thought it best to just finish my work.  Better to take it out on the plants and shrubs than...someone else."  Swallowing carefully, Max maintained his gaze with the woman in the wheelchair then licked his lips a couple of times before adding yet again, "I'm sorry, M... Dr. Malvison."

        Zoë Malvison blinked at his words.  'CPR?  Why hadn't Lothos told me what was going on with our daughter?' she wondered still seething as she raked her eyes over the man standing before her.

        "Lothos?" she called out without glancing up.

        "Yes, Dr. Malvison?"

        "Is Tala okay?" she questioned as she watched Maxwell shift slightly where he was standing.  Hearing Lothos say, "She is deeply sedated at the moment.  If it weren't for this man and Quinton Sylvane, Tala surely could have died by the time that the medical team got to her.  According to Dr. Hugen who has been attending to her, she may be awake by the time that you arrive; that is if Mr. Robinson would take you."

        Zoë blinked and nodded at the voice of the man she loved.  She said, "Understood."

        Taking a moment to reel back in her temper, she gave Maxwell another glance over and cleared her throat.  "I have a two-fold question for you Maxwell." Seeing his slight nod, she began.  "First and foremost, are you going to let this argument between you and Tala come between the friendship that we have?"  Seeing him open his mouth, she added quickly.  "And second, are you going to let this come between a friendship that you and Tala may have down the road?  Think before you answer, Max.  Sometimes, words tend to come back and haunt you when you least expect it.  They did for me when I said that I didn't want my baby.  Think."

            Max heeded Zoë’s admonishment and didn't say anything for a couple of minutes.  It seemed like much longer but the whole time he was considering; and at last, he spoke up.

        "It would be a stupid thing to allow an argument between me and someone I barely know to come between you and I, Dr. Malvison," he said carefully.  "We've been friends for...almost as long as I've been working in the gardens...full time."  He thought a moment then added, "That's almost six years." Max dared to risk a slight smile as he added, "Friends...good friends are hard to come by."  Judging by her reaction, he knew he'd said the right thing.  But then she prompted him on the second question.

        "I can't say one way or the other, Ms... Dr. Malvison," Max couldn't keep the hint of stiffness from his tone.  The considering look in her eyes didn't help matters.  In fact, it irritated him to think that maybe she was trying to use his feelings about what had happened against to get him together with Tala.  It was that notion that caused him to say, "Let's just leave things as they are. Maybe...." 

His friend's impatient, "That's not good enough, Maxwell," slammed shut the door he hadn't quite shut yet.

        "I think I'd better leave now, ma'am," he responded with stiff politeness and started to turn away.  But Zoë Malvison's determination to have the answer from him that she wanted pushed her to push him.

        Stepping back from her, out of her reach, Maxwell stated coolly, this time meeting her gaze in equal degrees, "I think we'd just better leave things lie as they are for now... ma'am.  Good evening, Dr. Malvison," then turned, grabbed the door open and stepped out.  Only by the force of his upbringing --and one Saturday afternoon at the age of fourteen spent opening and closing a door quietly a couple of hours -- did he not slam the door.  The latch of the door had barely clicked into place when the grubby, tired, angry and frustrated man was striding down the hall.  He thought he heard something behind him. Maybe the sound of someone yelling; he didn't slow down to listen.  He had something else in mind to do...after he got a shower.

        "Maxwell!  Get back in here!" Zoë Malvison yelled but the way that she stared at the now closed door told her that he wasn't coming back.

She sighed heavily.  She didn't know what to say or do, but she did know that she was tremendously upset about her daughter.  Flustered from feeling so inept because of her body not doing what she wanted it to do, she growled and began to fiddle with the buttons on the side of her wheelchair.  She was thankful that the chair had been brought in this afternoon when she thought that Tala was up with Max, so she could at least maneuver herself around.  It took her a little bit to figure it out, but she slowly moved it to the door, cursed when she couldn't quite get the door the way that she wanted it, but finally got through it and exited her quarters.

        She was halfway down the hall when she heard the elevator doors chime.  That was another obstacle in her line.  She wasn't sure if she could reach the flipping buttons. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

        After leaving the gardens and the uppity Englishman, Quint had returned to the security base station to report into Commander Adlam.  His reporting that Tala Lothoman was in the infirmary instead of in correction or headed for a face-to-face with Lothos was the only thing that kept Officer Sylvane from getting docked as well as a disciplinary check against him.  It still surprised him; others had come back at one time or another with the same honest reason for the detainee not to be in custody, but they'd all received reprimandary punishment.  Still, he didn't argue the point when Commander Adlam just dressed him down then let him clock out only a few minutes later than usual.

        Once off duty, Quint changed out of his uniform and into his preferred style of dressing, namely comfortable jeans and a pullover and sneakers.  He'd decided at some point that it was his rebellion against the uniform as well as the way he'd had to dress just so while still under his parents' roof.

        He had left his parents' quarters...to see his mother who was recuperating from a virus... and was heading for the elevator, now free to spend the evening, as he wanted, when he saw a woman in a wheelchair at the elevator and struggling to reach the call button that was just out of her reach.  Hurrying his pace, Quint recognized the red-haired woman and said genially, "It's funny that I should meet you in the hallway.  I can to see how Ms. Lothoman was doing."  When she looked up at him and frowned a second before recognizing him, he shook his head lightly at her.  "Pardon my manners, ma'am," he said. "If you're going somewhere, I'd be more than happy to assist in any way."

        Zoë grinned up at the man before her and tilted her head slightly to the side.  "You don't mind being a shining white knight upon a steed, do you?" she asked raking him again from head to toe.  'Damn, his genetic pool is too rich. Oooo,' she thought to herself.

        He mirrored her grin at the 'white knight' comment.  Quint also didn't miss the not so subtle once over she gave him; he grinned a little wider.

        "Not at all, ma'am," he responded, reaching to press the call button then blocked the elevator doors open with one foot while he reached to help Dr. Malvison manage her wheelchair into the elevator.  Stepping inside once she was safely in, with a bit of flourish of one hand he asked, "To whence shall I escort you m'lady?"  He laughed along with her as he pressed the button she indicated.  

        Zoë couldn't help but laugh as she pointed toward the level where the infirmary was located.  "I'm going to see Tala.  I... I didn't know she had a problem this afternoon.  I just found out."  Seeing the immediate concern, Zoë reached out and patted his arm gently.  "I do want to thank you for helping me, Quint.  Ever since this... happened, I have to rely more on others than before.  With people like you around to help out," Zoë grinned as she looked up at him then ran her tongue over her lips.  "Consider me needing help a lot more."

        Quint shrugged gently at the last comment.  "If I'm not working, Dr. Malvison just give a yell and I'll be glad to help however I can. With..." he added, holding up a finger for emphasis, "So long as some other lady doesn't have dibs on me."  Seeing her playful smile...a far cry from the muttering she'd been doing just a few moments before...was good.  It didn't hurt to keep certain people on your good side.

        The elevator chime sounded just then and the car came to a stop.  Stepping behind her chair, he said, "If you'll allow me, ma'am," and carefully maneuvered the chair out of the car.  As the doors closed behind them, he asked, "Where is Ms. Lothoman's room, ma'am?"  At her instruction, he turned right and began moving along the hall.  A brief stop at the first nurses' station they came to for confirmation of the room number was the only slow down.

        Quinton had been so nice to bring me so far to her daughter that she turned her head up to look at him behind her.  "Quint?" he stopped the chair, came around to the front of it as he stopped at the door where Tala was located. 

        "Yes ma'am?"

        "Don't forget her room number.  I'm sure that she'll want to thank you for your help this afternoon."  Seeing his nod and a smile, she went ahead, "If you don't mind, Quint, I'd like to be alone to talk with her doctor and see how she is."

        "Yes ma'am.  Let me know if you need anything else, Dr. Malvison." Not thinking about the reason why he did it, Quint was even more surprised that he did it himself; he leaned down and brushed his lips against her cheek.

        Without waiting for a response, he turned and left her company.

        Zoë blinked and shook her head in response and inwardly cursed Albert Calavicci again for taking away one form of pleasure that she could have used with Quinton Sylvane.  'Damn that man to hell,' she thought irately.

        Only after her inward rant, did she move the wheelchair into the room to see Dr. Peter Hugen standing at the foot of Tala's bed making notes on her chart.

        "Dr. Hugen," Zoë began as she blinked up at him.  "Is she okay?  What really happened with her?" she asked concerned.

        “She’s given us quite a scare when they brought her in,” he told her frankly, glancing back down at Tala’s quiet form, the low, whispery hiss of oxygen from the mask over her mouth and nose the loudest sound about her at the moment.  To Zoë’s alarmed expression, he went on, “Apparently, she stopped breathing when she was outside,” he informed her.  “Officer Quinton Sylvane and Maxwell Robinson had been giving CPR until the medical personnel showed up.  They continued CPR until she got here.  Once I gave her an elevated dosage of her medication, she came around and started breathing on her own.”

        Dr. Hugen again looked down at the Zoë and Lothos daughter.  “I don’t know what set off such a violent attack, but I intend on finding out when she wakes up.  Do you have any idea?”

        “She’s been under way too much stress, Hugen.”  When he looked up at that, Zoë gave him a knowing look, then see the realization in his eyes.  “Especially this week… the last few days.  Finding out who her mother is… a correction… I’m sure that you have some information that you know that I don’t need to share with you,” she told him as she glanced at the few women who were in the room with them.  “She also found out some interesting information about someone in the complex and well, words were said,” she said tactfully, “and she went to apologize for her behavior.  Obviously, it didn’t go well,” she said as she reached up and took a hold on Tala’s hand.

        Peter nodded understandingly to her words.  “It Tala’s temper is taking on aspects of her father’s temper,” Dr. Hugen told Zoë, looking straight into her eyes, “then the three of us,” he indicated Tala, “are going to have a discussion when she wakes.  If an attack was triggered by an argument, setting aside the fact for a moment that she didn’t have her inhaler with her, then she’s going to learn how to handle her temper, better, or at the very least, avoid whoever it was that set this one off.”  Zoë seemed taken aback with what he was telling her. 

        “If she had another attack as violent as this, and she doesn’t have instant access to an inhaler, it could kill her,” he told her bluntly.  “If it hadn’t been for those two men, we’d be talking to each other in the morgue right now.”

        Zoë couldn’t believe what he’d just told her.  She owed both of them so much gratitude.  “Oh my God,” she whispered softly. She ran her hand through her hair looking up at him.  “Do you know when she’ll awaken?”

        “I sedated her heavily earlier.  I’m not quite sure when she’ll wake, but she might be asleep anywhere from the next hour to the next eight.  And unless her breathing and vital signs are completely back to normal, I’ll put her out for another day if need be.”

        Zoë nodded her head understandably then glanced at her daughter before looking back at him.

        “In all the years that I’ve known you, Zoë, I have never… never… seen shock, fear and gratitude in your eyes all at the same time.”  He didn’t even let her sharp glare bother him.  “Being a mother is a helluva lot more involved and complicated than being a leaper, isn’t it?”

        Dr. Hugen smiled at the filthy look that she gave him before patting her daughter’s hand and then left the room to leave mother and daughter alone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

        For the next five hours, Zoë sat beside Tala’s side until she woke.  She watched as her daughter’s eyes slowly blinked open and Zoë smiled at her when Tala looked over at her.

        “W-wh-what hap-pened?” Tala asked her voice muffled by the oxygen mask.  She didn’t even try to move the mask away from her face.  It hurt too much to move.

        To avoid possibly setting her off again, Zoë smiled at her and told her gently, “You had an asthma attack.  A rather bad one, I’m afraid.”  She saw Tala glance down at the oxygen mask.  “Dr. Hugen thought it best that you stay in the infirmary until you woke,” Zoë patted her hand gently.  “You gave us quite a scare.”  Zoë paused then asked, “How do you feel?”

        Tala blinked at her for a moment before she answered her question.  “I feel… horrible.  I can’t seem to take a deep breath.  Everything hurts,” Tala told her and saw the alarm on her face.  She guessed that she shouldn’t have told her exactly how she was feeling.

        It was then that Dr. Hugen came ambling into the room, looking tired.  “I’m not surprised,” he said as he heard what she said.  He went to the bed and quickly checked her eyes and her pulse.  “The med techs had to intubate you while you were in the elevator.”  When Tala gasped then winced at the sharp pain, he knew her sore solar plexus warned her to not take any sudden deep breaths for awhile.

        “You had a near fatal episode, Tala,” he told her without pulling any punches.  “In fact, at one point your heart stopped beating.”  He lightly touched the area just below the space between her breasts.  “My popping you with my fist and with others doing the same, might also have something to do with why you’re hurting some.”

        Tala and Zoë were both quiet for a moment. 

        “Would you mind telling me just what go your jets so damned hot that brought on this attack?”

        Tala looked up into Dr. Hugen’s face and shook her head.  “You already know, Dr. Hugen.  It pertains to Dr. Grant,” she told him though the mask.  “Can I take this thing off?  It’s not helping much.”  She told him as she felt herself taking quick breaths – almost panting from talking to him  “Not… feeling so g…” she stopped talking as she felt the pain in her chest.

        “No,” Peter told her firmly, but his gaze never left her face.  Her short, quick breaths were normal considering what had to be done when she was brought in, but her saying that she wasn’t feeling good, or almost saying it, sharpened his attention on her.  “Where does it hurt, Tala?”

        Tala placed her hand on her chest right between her breasts and wheezed.  “Oh God,” she began as she cringed.  “It hurts.  Make it stop.”

        “Does it hurt just when you’re trying to breathe?” Peter Hugen asked quietly but with a touch of sharpness, his attention totally focused on her face, her eyes, and her answer.  “Or is it only here?” he put two fingers between her breasts.

        Tala hollered out in pain and wheezed again hitting her hand against the bed.  She nodded to both of his questions not able to form any words from the pain she was feeling.  When Peter placed his hand on her chest again, she grabbed at his arm not wanting him to put any pressure there.

        Without preamble, Peter pulled the sheet down and in a quick move, he pulled up the front of her gown, effectively baring her body; and there it is.  “The pain your experiencing is because when I popped you with my fist, to get your heart started again, I obviously bruised your breast bone.”  He pointed to the purpling bruise between her breasts and the size of it was just about the same size as the profile of his fist would be.

        He touched around it, hearing her gasps.  When he was finished, he told both women, “I’m ordering a set of x-rays, to be sure there’s not a hairline fracture of the bone, though I’m almost a hundred percent certain there’s not.”

        Calmly, he drew the gown down Tala’s body again and replaced the sheet over her. “For the time being, young lady, you keep that oxygen mask on, take small, shallow breaths and don’t argue with anybody for a while.”  He saw that she wanted to do just that, but when he gave her the choice of that or another sedative shot, she saw his point.

        After being threatened with a sedative, Tala closed her eyes and relaxed into the bed.  Turning her head toward her mother, Tala saw that her mother looked extremely upset.  She was not sure if she was upset with her or with the situation she was in.  Cringing as she swallowed, Tala said, “I’m sorry that I scared you.”

        Hearing her apology, Zoë felt something unusual.  There was a small lump in her throat.  Another first.  Swallowing it, Zoë held Tala’s hand in hers, stretching to brush a strand of hair from her cheek.  “So long as you’re better now, that’s all that matters.”  Zoë blinked away the mistiness that came into her eyes.  “Is there anything you need… or want me to do for you? Anything?”
        Tala wasn’t sure exactly what her mother wanted from her, but there was obviously something that she wanted her to do.  She looked at her face for a long moment, and then gazed into her eyes.  “Yes, mom.  Would you, please call M-Maxwell and Quinton in so that I can thank them for… “ She stopped and placed a hand on her chest and cringed. “… for saving my life.”

        “Yes, I will,” Zoë replied with an approving smile.  “Now you be a good girl and do as Dr. Hugen and the nurses tell you.  I’ll find Maxwell and Quinton for you.  It may be later this morning that I can get them in, but, I’ll do it.” 

        Zoë didn’t want to leave her, but gave herself a mental shake.  ‘Stop being maudlin, Zoë!’ she told herself.  “All right, I’ll be back, with Maxwell and Quint as soon as I can.”

        Glancing up at Hugen she gave him a nod, then turned her chair and made her way out of the infirmary.  As soon as she was out of there, she spoke.  “Lothos, would you please have Maxwell Robinson report to my quarters in the morning ASAP?  I need to talk to them about Tala.”  

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