"How does it feel?" Toby asked as he threaded his needle.

Happy poked at her hand. "Totally numb. Let's do this." She held her hand out like she had before, holding it steady with her left.

Toby took a deep breath, "OK . . ." He pierced her skin with the needle and pulled the thread through. He then held up a flexible ruler to the cut and carefully positioned the needle to finish the first stitch.

"What are you doing with a ruler?" She asked watching him.

"The general rule of thumb is 5 or 6 stitches per inch and I just wanted to get an idea of what that distance looked like. Don't worry I'm pretty sure I won't mar you for life." He looked up into her dark eyes and smiled. "Why don't you tell me about the first time you met Eric?"

Happy bit her lip and took a few moments to think while Toby focused on her hand. She'd promised to tell him about Eric but this felt more intimate than she had expected, sitting close together with his hands on hers. At least he wasn't looking at her.

"I was ten when I went to live with Eric and his wife Rachael. It was my 6th foster home. They had a couple other foster kids too, younger than me but they were nice . . . I really liked living there." Toby looked up surprised and Happy smiled sadly. "Eric's hobby was building cars. When he found out that I liked that kind of thing he'd let me help. Every night after dinner we'd spend a couple hours in the garage working on it. I loved it. Weekends were the best. We'd spend all day working on the car or reading his mechanics magazines. Sometimes he'd take me to get parts or buy tools. We just talked all the time about cars and motorcycles."

"Anyway, one night Eric's friend brought over a broken CD player. While they were talking and drinking beers I took it out to the garage and fixed it. After that Eric started bringing home a lot of broken electronics (I don't know where he got it all), speakers, gaming consoles, just whatever. I'd fix it if I could or strip out the parts to build new stuff. It's all I wanted to do. I wasn't allowed to work on the car without Eric but he said I could use his tools while he was at work so the minute I'd get home from school I'd go out to the garage and work on my projects. And then in the evening I got to work on the car with Eric. The whole time I was growing up . . . that was the best it ever was." Toby could picture it clearly, a little 10 year old Happy who just wanted to build things. He suspected that most foster homes didn't give her that outlet.

"After, I lived with them for about 4 months Eric and Rachel sat me down and said they loved me and wanted to adopt me." Happy stopped talking for a moment. When she spoke again her voice was shaky. "I was so excited . . . but later that night when it was time for me to go to bed Eric wanted a hug and a kiss goodnight." She took a deep breath. "After I kissed him he said that I was kissing like a little kid and that he'd show me how to kiss like a grownup. He wanted to kiss every night after that. I didn't want to but I really wanted him to like me. And when I kissed him the way he wanted . . . he said he loved me."

Toby glanced up to see tears streaming down Happy's cheeks, "After a couple weeks he said that if I loved him I'd take off my underwear for him . . . I didn't want to and I started to cry . . . but Eric said that only babies cry . . . He said that he wouldn't let a baby work on his car or use his tools . . ." Happy laid her head on the table crying but still carefully holding out her hand for Toby. "Working on that car. It's all I wanted to do. So I didn't cry . . . I let him take my clothes off." She was sobbing and her hand was trembling badly. Toby was struggling to finish her stitches. He got up quickly and pulled down a tissue box, filled up a glass of water and pulled a pill container out of the cupboard. He knelt next to Happy and placed the water and tissue in front of her. Toby ran his hand over her black hair and down her back. "Happy, we're going to take a break, OK. We'll talk about Eric another time. Can you drink some water? I just have a few more stitches."

Happy raised her head slowly and started to wipe her eyes with her good hand. When she looked into Toby's compassionate eyes she started crying again and buried her face into his neck. Toby was awkwardly positioned on the floor but stroked her head with a whispered, "Shhhhh." All the while cursing himself inside his head. Asking her to open up about her past while performing a medical procedure had been idiotic. What was he thinking? And now here she was raw and vulnerable, and needing to be comforted. He just wanted to hold her and he couldn't. She still had a damn needle and thread attached to her hand.

Toby opened up the pill container and took one out. "Happy . . . Sweetheart . . . I only have four more stitches to go and we'll be done. I really need you to calm down."

She nodded and straightened up in the chair. "I'm sorry." She said wiping at her eyes.

"You didn't do anything wrong." Toby nudged the tissue closer. He placed the pill on the table. "Can you take this? It's a mild tranquilizer. It'll probably make you a little sleepy but you could lay down for a while after I'm done, OK?"

Happy wiped her face with the tissues and swallowed the pill. After a few more gulps of water she said, "I'm alright now. You can finish." She held out her hand. It was still trembling slightly. Toby sat down across from her again. He worked quickly as she silently watched.

"All done." He said getting up. Happy examined her hand. The stitches were small and even. He'd done a good job.

"Nicely done, Doc."

He smiled at her over his shoulder as he walked back into his bedroom. After a few minutes he came back out. "I made the bed. Do you want to take a nap?" He was holding a quilt in his arms.

"Yeah, I'm exhausted. Actually, I feel like I got hit by a truck . . ." She stood up and followed him to the bed.

Toby laughed. "I'm not surprised. It's been a pretty horrible day for you."

Happy sat on the side of her bed and started unlacing her boots. She thought about it – about getting to spending all day with him. "Not that horrible."

Happy climbed onto the bed and laid down on top of the comforter, her head on his pillow. Toby unfolded the quilt and spread it over her. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through her dark hair. "I'll stay with you if you want . . ."

Her dark brown eyes filled with tears again. "OK." He pulled off his shoes and walked around the bed to climb in behind her. He didn't get under the quilt but laid on top fitting himself snugly against her back. He wrapped is arm around her and held her as she continued to cry. When she quieted he rubbed her back and softly pulled her dark curls. His heart was full to bursting. He was touching . . . holding Happy Quinn. And he loved her.

He wanted more. Closer. Gently he pushed the strap of her tank top off her shoulder and kissed where it had been. Undressing her just a little felt intimate and sensual to him. Happy tensed beside him and he quickly buried his face in her hair and wrapped his arm around her tiny waist so she would understand. He wouldn't take it further.

She relaxed against him and fell asleep in minutes.