Disclaimer: Still don't own anything.

Thanks to those who have waited patiently for this chapter! I've been waiting for the muse to strike!

Laura knocked tentatively on the connecting door between her room and Mr. Steele's. The last few hours had been a bit tiresome, and part of her wondered if he would still be awake.

"Mmm-hmm." Laura couldn't make out the words through the door, but she took them to mean she had permission to enter, so she turned the knob.

"Ah there you are, Mrs. Johnson. Come to play doctor so soon?" She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It was a safe bet that the downstairs clerk had swallowed the story about Mr. Steele being a famous rugby player from England on holiday to the States while recovering from an injury. "Mrs. Johnson" was a sports medicine specialist hired to take care of him while in America. Laura hoped the young man had already forgotten all about them.

She walked over to the bed, where Steele lay sprawled. "Move over," she said simply, trying not to wince as he slowly readjusted his wounded arm. She lay down on the other side of him, careful not to jostle him too much. When she was comfortable, she draped one arm over his chest and buried her face in his shoulder. She hoped he was too far gone to notice the tears that crept silently down her cheeks – and she might have gotten away with it, if not for the fact that they were soaking into the fabric of his shirt. He woke instantly and, snaking his good arm under her shoulders, reached up to run his fingers through her hair.

"There, there," he whispered, kissing the top of her head. "It's going to be fine. You'll see."

"H-how?" she stuttered, furious with herself for being so vulnerable. But she only cried harder. "You can't know that." His second arm useless, Steele silenced her with a look instead of a finger to her lips. Intense blue eyes stared into hers, and for the first time that night, Laura felt a sense of calm.

"After all these years," he said softly, "don't you trust me?"

Laura sniffed as she felt her sobs calm. "With my life, Mr. Steele." He leaned down to kiss her, softly… gently – his arms warm and safe. Fatigue pressed in on her, and Laura surrendered to it's demands with a sigh.

With my life, she thought again as she drifted off to sleep.

Short, but sweet. Am I right?

;-)

(The next one should be longer. I just decided to post this now, rather than make you wait even more!)