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"How's your arm?"

Surprised, she plucked the bottle from the shelf and turned around. "It's a little sore."

"Mind if I check it out?"

"Uh, sure." Shelby held out her left arm and the tall woman grasped it, gently probing the bruised area around the analyst's wrist with deft, sure fingers.

Kris looked up. "I wanted to make sure we didn't need to get it x-rayed. It feels okay, but it's going to be sore for a few days. You were limping?"

"I landed on my hip." Shelby smiled wanly. "I have more padding there." She handed Kris the peroxide. "Need some help?"

Kris shook her head. "Why don't you go ahead and shower? Then I'll take mine and clean this up."

The operative watched Shelby slowly make her way down the hall, before returning to the door to retrieve the forgotten bag of lunchmeat one of Earl's men had recovered from the parking lot and delivered. She put the perishables in the refrigerator, laid the partly squashed loaf of bread on the counter, and walked into the living room.

Shelby returned to the kitchen a short time later, smiling when she saw the bread. It would make some interesting looking sandwiches. She saw Kris looking out the balcony door. "Your turn."

She opened the refrigerator, retrieving the braunschweiger, sliced turkey, spicy mustard, and a small jar of Miracle Whip. Taking out an onion, she set it on the counter with the rest of the food and reached into the cupboard for a couple of saucers before remembering she had used the last of the napkins. She pulled the step stool over and climbed on it to reach the extra package stored in one of the high cupboards.

Kris rounded the doorway into the kitchen only to bump solidly into Shelby, who was stepping off the stool. Her surprise gave way to a plethora of fleeting impressions as her body reacted to the contact. She steadied Shelby and stepped away. "You okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

No. No I'm not okay. Shelby tried to slow her racing heart and had trouble finding her voice. "Yeah. Sorry."

"My fault. I didn't want you to go to any trouble on my account." She even remembered how I like my sandwich. "You go ahead and make yours. I'll make mine when I get out of the shower."

"I have a better idea. Why don't you go take your shower, and I'll fix both sandwiches. I really don't mind." She smiled winningly. "Okay?"

Gazing at Shelby, Kris nodded slowly. "Thank you. I'd like that."

Shelby smiled with relief at the small victory, turning her attention back to the sandwiches once Kris had left. She was still wired from the energy rolling off the operative in waves a few moments earlier, and her body instinctively reveled in the sensation.

Her thoughts turned reflective. She had given up trying to justify her feelings for Kris. For the first time in her life, Shelby thought she understood what her sister, Jackie, had said two years before about her decision to marry Steven and move to Seattle.

"Shelby, have you ever met anyone that just took your breath away and you didn't know why, but they did? Such a strong attraction that you couldn't ignore it, and you just knew you had to know more about that person? That's how I felt about Steve. I was lucky. He felt the same way."

Shelby knew now. Kris had never encouraged her interest in any way; and to the best of her knowledge, the operative had no interest in her. Yet, her burning desire to know all about the enigmatic woman increased with each passing day. She smiled ruefully. Hey, Jackie, what would you think if I told you I know what you mean now? What would you think if I told you I have that feeling...for another woman? What would you think if I told you she was an assassin? What would you think if I told you she was on a list of suspects for a series of unsanctioned hits?

The internal conversation ended as Shelby acknowledged that it didn't matter what her sister or anyone else thought. What mattered was what she felt, and it didn't matter to her that Kris was a woman. She really didn't think her partner was the killer they were looking for - so she dismissed that part of the equation.

If the rumors were to be believed, Kris was indeed a very deadly assassin. On a logical level, she understood the operative's activities were government sanctioned, but she wondered how Kris could've become hard and calloused enough to kill without remorse. Or did she? Shelby suddenly realized she didn't know the answer to that.

She briefly pondered why she didn't have more of a problem dealing with her feelings for a woman. Her mother and stepfather had both preached about the sins of society and in their minds, homosexuality was one of them. Her face darkened momentarily. Like he had the right to talk about anyone else.

Shelby's mind continued its meanderings. Her background in psychology had demanded much self-analysis. She genuinely enjoyed interacting with others, but trust was something she guarded zealously. Do I trust Kris? Beyond the surface? I want to. Do I dare to?

She sadly acknowledged that she was unlikely to ever find out because she was trapped in a no win situation. Her feelings weren't something that were going to go away when Kris left, and the chance of them being reciprocated was infinitesimally small.

Kris took her time in the shower. Shelby had thrown her for a loop and she needed some time to try and get a handle on her feelings. She grinned ruefully. Even though she had mentally prepared to face a different reaction from Shelby, her body had obviously not listened to her mind and she had to physically refrain from just wrapping the small woman into hug when they had collided. She snorted. Don't think that would've gone over very well. An image of Shelby's flushed face appeared in her mind. Or would it have? It was an accident. Why had she been embarrassed? Maybe she wasn't.

She cares about me. Kris savored that thought as it caressed her mind, liking the way it felt. She wouldn't if she knew who and what you really are. The cold stark reality of the logical observation quickly extinguished her pleasure at Shelby's concern and she coldly turned her attention back to showering.

The operative had just finished donning a pair of shorts and a T-shirt when a quiet rap sounded on the door. Kris opened it to find Shelby standing there, holding out the bottle of peroxide.

"You forgot this."

Kris smiled at the thoughtfulness. "Thanks." She opened the bottle, held her arm over the sink and began pouring the disinfectant over the painfully scraped flesh.

Shelby stared at Kris and grabbed the bottle from her hand, and set it down. "I can't believe you did that." She reached around Kris, removed a large cotton ball from a container on the shelf over the toilet, and began gently dabbing the excess moisture from Kris' arm.

Resisting the instant urge to pull her arm away when Shelby grasped it, Kris watched her and when the other woman finally seemed satisfied, she asked dryly, "Finished?"

"No. I'm going to put some antibiotic ointment on it. It would be easier if you sat down."

Kris sat on the toilet, shaking her head, but actually enjoying the attention. She appreciated Shelby's feather light touch and smiled. "Thanks." The answering smile warmed her heart.

"You're all set. Let's go eat."

Kris trailed Shelby to the dining room, and sat down at the table. "Looks good."

Shelby chuckled. "Whatever you say." She picked up her sandwich and took a bite, realizing suddenly that she was starved. She quipped, "Hey, next time you decide to tackle me, could you pick a softer place?"