Julia
Chapter Twenty-five

Disclaimers, etc. in Headers


Washington, D.C.
February 11, 2001
7:18 a.m.


Dim, wintry light bled through the crack in the
curtains, giving the room a misty glow.  Julia
had held herself still the last half-hour,
waiting for the small burst of light.  Curled
under the covers at Mulder's side, close but not
touching him, her eyes open in the dark to look
upon him at her leisure.

Now, with the shadows of the room chased away,
she let her gaze roam over his profile.  So
familiar, so beloved.  Though her eyebrows drew
together at the bruise on his cheek; during the
night, it seemed to have completed its
transition from angry red to mottled shades of
black and blue.  Anger at the way he'd been
abused blossomed, as well as muted sorrow; the
bruise would heal, but the scar that marred his
chin and neck would remain forever.  If she
squinted, she could barely make out the
imperfection that trickled down his uncovered
chest.  She watched him sleep, his still swollen
hand rising and falling as it laid on his
stomach just above the blanket.

She wished she could make it all go away.  With
a touch of her hand, erasing his pain... making
his skin unpunctured and whole.  Make his mind
clean and free of nightmares.

He'd slept the night through, sometimes
clutching her to him with soft murmurs of her
name.  Spoken in dreams like he'd made a habit
of it; she knew it wasn't likely to bring anyone
running.  The thought made her sad and she
realized those listening had probably heard his
night ramblings for months now, ignoring them as
the workings of a mind lost to the reality of
her existence.  That they'd come together in
spite of the new way of the world made her want
to thumb her nose at those arrogant, faceless
eavesdroppers.

At least they couldn't see.  She thanked a God
she'd lost faith in long ago for this little
indulgence.  Every time she looked at him now,
she could feel her passion for him, her fierce
protectiveness and loyalty, stream from her eyes
with the light of truth.  Revealing who she once
was - who she *is* - to anyone who cared to
look.  Tonight, in the open spaces of the dining
room, she was going to have to steel herself
against giving away even a millimeter of what
was to come.

With a trembling sigh, she practiced, dropping
her eyes from their greedy exploration of his
form, swallowing back the need to touch him, to
make sure he was still with her.  It was going
to be damned hard, that much she knew already.

"That bad, huh?"

The soft question snapped her eyes open. 
Mulder's head turned to her and his eyes crept
open, a sheepish grin curling his lips.  Before
she could react, he'd turned to face her fully,
though he kept his distance.

"Guess I won't be the King of the Valentine
Dance this year, will I?"

Shaking her head, she inched closer, mouthing a
hopeful, <Maybe next year?> And maybe she could
get a better grip on the emotions that seemed to
bubble from her skin these days.  She was
determined that both 'maybes' come true.

Mulder chuckled, then yawned.  "I knew there was
a reason to live."  His face scrunched up and a
hand scratched lazily at his chest.  "What time
is it?"

She shrugged, not really caring to lose the
moment by peering over his shoulder.  Ever
closer she moved, until she wormed her way
beneath the covers to mold her body to his.  Her
nose nudged his breastbone as she breathed in
his warmth.

"I have to go to work, you know."  Though his
words spoke one thing, his arms said something
else, winding around her to complete their
embrace.  "I already missed my workout.  They'll
come looking for me soon."

The last was muttered with dread.  Her hands
gripped his waist, unable to let him go.  She
hated this; hated this new fear.  Weakness was
something she'd never allowed herself to feel. 
It wasn't that she was frightened of being left
alone.  She was scared that if he walked out the
door this morning, she might never see him
again.

"I'll get Eliza to come over again today.  And
I'll come home early.  If anyone dares come into
the apartment, tell her to call me directly. 
I'll leave my extension by the phone, okay?"  He
sighed, his voice becoming hard.  "I don't give
a shit what Laura says, or what anyone thinks. 
Call me if you need me.  Don't take any
chances."

Julia nodded against his chest.  She didn't feel
as though she'd have another unwelcome visitor
today; by now, the story must have spread far
and wide, scaring off any potential threat from
the Guardsmen.  For now, anyway.  Tomorrow, it
wouldn't matter at all.  If they were lucky.

Mulder pulled her tight against him, his hands
moving to the curves of her ass.  His next
statement was lighter, as if he sensed the
worrisome trend of her thoughts.  "Don't forget
- dinner tonight downstairs."

Oh, my, she thought.  Forget dinner.  Remember
this moment.  Impress upon herself the feel of
him touching her at every possible point.  Hair-
roughened legs that insinuated themselves
between hers; muscles that jumped beneath her
lips.  Fingers that mimicked another, more
sensuous rhythm as they massaged the round
globes of flesh, dipping low to push into the
crease where thighs met torso.  A full, hot
hardness that prodded her belly and pushed all
thoughts of eating from her mind.

Her tongue stabbed out between suddenly numb
lips, painting his flesh with the language of
the siren.  Stay with me, it begged.

He reacted as she hoped he would, his hiss of
breath followed by, "God, Julia... I have to go
to work."

Don't, she answered, her magnetic pull
intensified by hands that crept up to his neck. 
She lifted her head and pulled his down for a
kiss.  He gave in, opening his mouth over hers. 
He tasted of stale, morning normalcy, and at
that moment, she wouldn't have traded it for the
taste of the finest chocolate.

The kiss grew by leaps and bounds into a burning
hot inferno of teeth and tongues.  Before she
knew it, she was flat on her back and he loomed
above her, breaking away to murmur against her
lips, "Damn it, I don't want to leave."

Letting her legs fall open, she felt him settle
in, his thighs hitting the tender skin below.  A
sharp scream of muscles overused radiated from
her groin, and she couldn't suppress the grimace
that flitted over her features.

No, she cried with her arms, as she held him to
her.  I'm okay, she begged with the insistent
press of her lips to his.

"Julia, no."  Too late.  He'd already picked up
on her soreness.  Like the gentleman he was, he
refused to push the issue, despite her urgency. 
Pulling up onto his hands, he dropped a kiss to
her cheek.  "Not again.  We'll have plenty of
time later, okay?"

A fresh wave of fright assaulted her and she
tensed, trying to school her features into
acceptance.  Practice, she had to practice. 
Don't let him see how scared you are.  But what
if they didn't have time later?  No, everything
was going to be fine, they'd make it out, alive
and well.

What if neither of them made it out of here
alive?  They would, they would - she hammered it
into her brain.  Or worse, what if only *she*
did?

God, she was horrible at pretending.  When it
was just Mulder she had to fool, she was
perfect.  She'd been fooling him for years,
right?  Telling him what he wanted to hear,
never saying what she really wanted to say.  It
was so easy being Julia.  Scully could feel;
Scully could fear.

"Hey," he beckoned, his hands sneaking under her
shoulders to give her a shake.

It was no use.  She could feel every ounce of
fear within her rush to her face.  Don't cry,
she told herself.  Be Julia.

"... all right.  It's going to be okay."  His
attempt to soothe her drifted into the miasma of
growing agitation, and she forced her eyes to
focus on his.

Inches from hers, they were clear and bright. 
Nothing hidden in those hazel depths, only the
rebirth of a determination she hadn't seen in
months.  It settled her nerves a bit and the
corners of her eyes crinkled, relaxing from
their wide-eyed stare.

She forced her lips to move. <You promise?> Like
there was anything he could do if even one
Guardsman aimed a gun at him.

"I promise," he pledged softly.  He believed it
already, she saw.

She had to believe it, too.  The pretense of
courage must be maintained and she gave him a
shaky smile, cupping his face in her trembling
hands. <Go to work.  I'm okay.>

"You sure?"

<Yes.> And she was.  For now.

Mulder seemed satisfied and he lifted away from
her.  She shivered at the cool air that rushed
in when he drew back the covers to stand.  She
couldn't help the snort that whooshed from her
nose at the sight of his full arousal, raising
an eyebrow as if to say, "You sure you don't
want to -?"  Silent laughter shook her as she
cuddled back down into the warmth he'd left
behind.  Nothing like a bit of humor to chase
away her leftover nervousness, even if it was at
Mulder's expense.

Hands on hips, he mirrored her expression.  "The
shower is a great place to umm... think.  Among
other things.  I can solve a lot of problems in
the shower, Julia."  With a wink, he turned and
walked to the bathroom.

A moment's hesitation, then she was up after
him.


**********


9:15 a.m.


Julia sipped on tea while listening half-
heartedly to Eliza's drone.  She kept an ear out
for the knock on the door; the laundry man was
supposed to return with her dress - and
hopefully, an escape route - sometime this
morning.

Bringing the cup to her lips, she surveyed the
sparse landscape below, this time with an eye to
strategic planning.  Every few minutes or so, a
Humvee slowly made its round, circling like a
vulture.  On the next street over, an identical
vehicle moved in the opposite direction, but
with similar purpose.  She imagined there were
concentric perimeters of protection hewn out in
the rubble, but distance and the snowy winter
overcast made detection difficult from her
vantage point twenty-odd stories above the
ground.

However, she did know that there was an end to
it; remembered the checkpoints one by one from
here to the airport.  Five miles, maybe six,
with a circle of possible gunfire every mile. 
And numerous snipers along the way, if her
memories of the way Cancerman operated were
anything to go by.  She'd bet her bottom dollar
on it.

Biting her lip in concentration, her eyes darted
to and fro.  Of course, the protection would
collapse once the attack began.  On one hand,
making it harder to escape; on the other, making
the radius to freedom shorter.  Once outside the
last circle, they would enjoy the black cloak of
night to speed away.  Hopefully, in a vehicle of
some sort.  If not, on foot.  She wasn't letting
anything stand in her way, not even the
potential loss of a few toes.

Damn.  It looked like the snow was coming down
harder now, sure to be piling up in drifts down
below.  Her bones were already aching, just as
they had in Antarctica.

"Dinner with the Appointing Authority!  Dear
God, Julia, I'm so jealous!"  Eliza was so
excited her chatter had become almost non-stop.

It made Julia's stomach flutter.  She hoped his
father wouldn't be in the dining room this
evening, despite the fact that she had told
Eliza they were having dinner with him.  Mulder
had also told the doctor, she realized.  But
what was a white lie these days?  Chances are he
*was* going to be there, just not sitting with
the two of them, hopefully.  And they wouldn't
get caught in the lie... not if they were long
gone.

The soft knock at the door interrupted Eliza's
gushing.  With a shrug, Julia left the window
and placed her cup on the coffee table before
moving to the door.

"Miss," he greeted her, the bland word matching
his expressionless face.  He held out the black
garment bag.  "Just as the Minister requested. 
More starch in his shirts."  He paused for a
fraction of a second.  Pointed allusion flared
in his eyes. "And your dress is also in the
bag."

She could have smiled with relief; he'd done it. 
Whatever he was supposed to do, it was done. 
And it waited for them in the pocket of her
dress.

"Let me see that."  A flash of purple linen
appeared at Julia's side.

No!  Panic tripped her heart, but she knew
better than to react.

"That'll be all."  Eliza's frosty dismissal was
delivered over her shoulder as she turned with
the bag.

Julia's eyes met the man's with frantic worry. 
But he could do nothing.  In fact, she shooed
him away with a, <If I get taken away, get him
out anyway.  Don't let him stop you.>

He nodded and backed away.  Julia watched him go
before quickly closing the door on the face of
the curious Guardsman that had woken up from his
doze by the elevator.

Eliza already had the bag unzipped and was
brushing aside Mulder's shirts to get to her
dress.  With a gulp, Julia spied her dress,
half-hidden by the white garments in front of
it.  Don't pull it out, she prayed.

"*This* is what you're wearing?"  Eliza faced
her with an incredulous stare.

Julia pounced on the woman's dissatisfaction,
playing it up with, <Yes.  I have nothing else.> 
She affected a moue, laying her 'Cinderella in
ashcloth' act on thick.

Eliza pulled at the material, searching for the
bodice while Julia held her breath.  A small bit
of white peeked out from the pocket.

"It's all right, I suppose... if you want the
staid virgin look.  Oh my God!"

Julia started forward, ready to pluck the bag
from Eliza's fingers.

"You can't wear this!  It's much too low in
front."

Her heart pounded as she waited.

"We must find something else."  Eliza grimaced
at the bruises that dotted Julia's collarbone
above the sagging satin robe.  "Something that
will cover those hideous marks."

The marks the Guardsman had made with his
fingers as he forced her to kneel before him,
Julia realized.  Despite the way she'd acquired
the black smudges on her skin, she was thankful
they'd darkened overnight.  Quickly, she took
the bag from Eliza and zipped it back up before
bringing it to her bedroom.

"You'd better hope those fade in a few days, my
dear."  Eliza's voice followed her.  "Quite
ugly... and definitely not something a man wants
to see on a woman."

As she hung the bag in her closet, Julia smiled,
remembering Mulder's reluctance to touch her
shoulders in the shower this morning.  Even now,
his groans echoed in her ears and she could feel
his hands grip hers as they rested on his
thighs.  His worry at reminding her of the
Guardsman's almost-assault had been quickly
dispelled as she'd knelt before him with a
smile.

"Julia?"

Face flushed with remembrance, she turned to see
Eliza in her bedroom doorway.  Closing her
closet door, she smiled, feeling Mulder in the
prickles of heat on her skin.  And liking it
very much.  <Yes?>

Puzzled, Eliza said, "Okay, what gives, Julia? 
You look like the cat that swallowed the
canary."

Oh, if she only knew, Julia thought.

Ushering Eliza from her room, she closed the
door and faced her. <You really think I need
another dress?> An idea had taken root in her
mind; all she needed was Eliza's cooperation.

She could taste the lobby air already.

"Should we chance it?" Eliza asked, already
halfway to the apartment door.

That was easy, she congratulated herself.  Now,
time for a bit of reconnaissance.


**********


Thank goodness it hadn't taken an act of
Congress for Julia to talk Eliza into a trip
downstairs.  Julia told her that yesterday's
incident with the Guardsman was already
forgotten by the upper echelon.  No one was
coming to take them away.  She wasn't going to
be taken away from Mulder, especially since
circumstances had changed.  A hint dropped with
the utmost tact had told Eliza what she needed
to know.

Of course, she dreaded telling Mulder of this
little excursion.  But that wouldn't come until
after the fact and he'd just have to live with
it, she figured.  A little trip away from the
gilded cage was guaranteed to make the time go
by faster, as well as give her an opportunity to
acquaint herself with the exit routes.  If
Mulder was unable to guide her out for some
reason - God forbid - then she could take the
lead.

As the elevator glided to a stop, Julia gave
Eliza a small smile.  They made their way
through the lobby and she forced herself to keep
the smile in place.  Eliza left her behind in
her haste to begin looking at the racks of
evening dresses visible through the shop's
doors.

Julia quickened her steps as well, following
Eliza as if she was just as anxious for the
dinner.  It wasn't hard to pretend; not that she
relished the time spent with the Appointing
Authority.  She didn't even know if he was going
to make an appearance in the dining room this
evening.  God, she hoped he wouldn't be there. 
She wasn't afraid of him, but she knew things
would go a lot easier without his presence.  But
if she had to, she could.  Practice makes
perfect, she thought.  And Eliza, while not
possessed of a keen eye for subterfuge, would do
nicely.

Stopping by a rack of lingerie, she fingered the
silk.  Only a matter of hours now, and she could
leave this horrible life behind.  Hope was
growing with every second that passed.

"Julia?  I think you have quite enough of those
already."

She looked up to find Eliza waving her over to
the rack of colorful taffetas and velvets.  Yes,
she had enough of sexy, slinky things.  She
turned away from the unpleasantness of this life
as represented by the decadence of the silk. 
And looked forward to the days to come, for the
future... a future with Mulder.  Hopefully, a
world without tyranny.  A world where they'd be
free to live and love as they wished.

"We'll try this one, and this one...."

Eliza pulled dresses from the racks and passed
them to the shop girl as Julia slowly perused
the racks.  She dragged her thoughts from Mulder
reluctantly and glanced through the shop's
windows.  Her hands kept busy going through the
clothes, but her eyes scanned the lobby.

Guardsmen everywhere, at every exit... including
several that patrolled up and down the expensive
carpet.  Escape would be difficult unless
Krycek's men took care of some of the obstacles
that were armed and ready.

"Find anything, Julia?"

The voice broke her away from her musings with a
start. <No, I can't decide,> she mouthed with a
sheepish grin. <So many.>

Eliza laughed and pulled her toward the dressing
room in the back.  "Then let's start with those
I've selected, shall we?  We have all morning if
necessary."

Just as Julia wanted.  The more time spent in
the shop, the more she could look around.  With
a nod and a smile, she followed Eliza to the
dressing room.


**********


12:20 p.m.


"Will *that* one do?"

Eliza slumped with exhaustion in the chair,
eyeing Julia with barely concealed impatience.

Julia would never have imagined it in her
companion, due to Eliza's lust for the material,
but it seemed the woman was worn out.  Could
there be such a thing as *too* much shopping?

As for herself, she'd tried on just about every
dress in the store that came in her size,
parading in front of the mirror with an eye to
the lobby.  Watching the Guardsmen come and go. 
It appeared they had no real routine, mostly
just meandering with haphazard purpose.  The
soldiers in the Administration's army were no
more than hired mercenaries, from what she could
tell.  Lackadaisical in attitude and vigilance.

A lilt of her lips did not go unnoticed by
Eliza.  "Please tell me this is the one, Julia."

Julia cast another swift look in the mirror,
admiring how the black sheath clung to her
figure.  As she turned, she decided it was a bit
long - damn the no-shoes policy - but the best
thing about it was it came with a black velvet
bolero jacket.  Embroidered with silver and gold
applique', it was heavy and warm, and would do
nicely in the frigid climate outdoors.  Besides,
it was time to stop the pretense and get back
upstairs before Eliza became suspicious.

Nodding, she faced the woman with a smile. <This
is it.>

Eliza, for all the fluff between her ears,
surprised Julia with a narrowing of her eyes. 
"Didn't you try this one on an hour ago?"

Julia faltered for just a second, then said, <I
wasn't sure then.> Be cool, she warned herself. 
This woman is sharper than you think.

Eliza stood and, after a brief pause where she
probed Julia's gaze with her own, replied,
"Well, I guess it's settled.  Get out of it and
we'll be on our way.  Hurry, I'm starving."

It didn't take long for Julia to don her own
clothes; nothing more than a slip dress of aqua
satin that she felt very exposed wearing.  But
it was one of the more concealing outfits she
had.

The black dress would serve her well when they
finally got outside.  From the looks of the
weather out the front door of the tower, the
storm appeared to be very heavy.  The Guardsmen
that ventured in were red-faced and shivering,
even with their heavy down jackets.  Hopefully
she and Mulder could make off with a couple of
those jackets before they left the building for
good.

As she passed the dress through the curtain to
Eliza, she glanced down at her bare feet,
cursing her impotence in that regard.  Frostbite
was a distinct possibility in the harsh
conditions outside and what she really needed
more than a jacket was a pair of shoes.  But no
go, unless she stole them from the shop.  Or
from Eliza.  But how to do either?

The slip dress was falling to her knees when
Eliza poked her head into the cubicle.  "Ready?"

Julia nodded and took the garment bag, following
Eliza out into the lobby.  The spacious area was
teeming with workers now, mostly service
personnel passing out sandwiches to the
Guardsmen.  As Eliza made her way to the
elevators, they became separated as a wave of
people headed to the front door, trays in hand.

Julia was bumped into and she silently cursed as
the garment bag fell to the floor, followed by a
half-dozen wrapped sandwiches.  Crouching, she
reached for the food at the same time as a white
gloved hand.

"I'm sorry," she heard a deep voice murmur. 
"Please... let me."

Her head snapped up at the familiar tones, her
eyes widening.  The man's eyes were familiar
above a close-cropped beard, holding her gaze
with hard determination.

"Nine p.m.," Krycek whispered.

An unconscious, <How?> burst from her soundless
lips.  What would the attack entail?

"No time to explain.  Get out if you can.  Don't
use the elevators.  Just run for it."

After a brief moment of disbelief, she shook
herself and let her chin drop in a slow nod. 
Seems she had her confirmation.  The chip had
done its job.

"Julia!"

The sharp rebuke from Eliza made Julia lift her
head as Krycek lowered his and moved away. 
Quickly, he gathered up the food and fumbled
with the tray, his useless arm dangling at his
side.

"Julia, what's going on?"  Her companion stood
before them, anger making the heavy makeup
crease into furious lines.

Julia draped her dress over her arm and stood,
dismissing Krycek in Eliza's eyes with a glare.
<Stupid fool ran into me.> Reaching for Eliza's
arm, she turned them toward the elevator.

Eliza was not deterred, however, giving Krycek a
glance as he strode away.  "He spoke to you. 
What did he say?"

With a jab of her thumb, Julia summoned the
elevator and schooled her face into what she
hoped was a mask of indifference. <He just
apologized, that's all.> She kept her face
averted, watching for the 'up' arrow.

Don't use the elevators when the time comes. 
What was he planning?

"Impertinent fool," Eliza muttered.  "You
shouldn't have any contact with the other men,
Julia.  After yesterday's trouble, you're
risking a lot.  The Minister would be furious." 
Her angry eyes told of her own place at risk,
something Julia knew she worried more about.

Julia rolled her eyes at Eliza, just as the
elevator dinged. <As if I'd want anyone but the
Minister,> she signed with pursed lips before
walking into the car.

Eliza entered as well, and they both turned to
watch the doors close.  Julia held her breath as
she glimpsed Krycek's form, moving about the
lobby.  Apparently, so did Eliza.

"You escaped the wrath of the Appointing
Authority once, Julia," she said with disdain. 
"Don't let it happen again."

Thankfully, the conversation was dropped as they
ascended to the suite.


**********


2:55 p.m.


<I wish I had a pair of shoes.> Julia sighed as
she watched Eliza finish up dessert - *and* the
bottle of wine. <I want to impress the
Appointing Authority.>

Please feel sorry for me, she pleaded with her
eyes.

"You know that's not possible, Julia," her
friend answered between bites of chocolate bon-
bons.  "Besides, mine would be too big for you."

<I could stuff tissue at the ends.> She let her
eyes widen with hope. <Please, Eliza.  Just this
once.>

Eliza stopped eating long enough to think about
it, her face softening with doubt.  "I don't
know if it's a good idea.  We could get into
trouble."

Julia pounced at the woman's indecision. <I
won't say where I got them, if anyone asks.  And
they won't notice anyway - the dress is very
long.  Please?>

Eliza's doubt quickly became curiosity.  "Why
are you so worried about shoes, Julia?  If the
dress is really long, as you say, then no one
will see if your feet are bare, will they?"

Sensing Eliza's growing suspicion, Julia quickly
backed off.  Coupled with her meeting with
Krycek earlier, her insistence on the shoes was
making Eliza more nervous than usual.  She had
to relent, and quickly.

<You're right,> she said, smiling. <Guess that
was rather foolish, wasn't it?>

Eliza gave her one last questioning look, then
wiped the corners of her mouth with her napkin.

"I'd better go," she purred, standing.  "It's
going on three o'clock and you need all the time
you can get to prepare before the Minister gets
home, right?"

Julia nodded, relieved that Eliza was leaving. 
She stood as well and put their plates and
glasses back on the tray, intending to set it
outside the door.  She wanted no interruptions
the rest of the afternoon.

"I'll just set this in the hall," Eliza said,
reaching for the tray and looking about the room
at the scattered remnants of their morning tea. 
"We mustn't let the Minister come home to a
mess, right?"

Despite her suspicion of the woman, Julia felt a
twinge of remorse at not telling her of the
attack that evening.  Eliza was a mercenary
human being, but she was really the only friend
Julia had in the place besides Mulder.  And
she'd saved her from the advances of the
Guardsman.  Could she really let her die with
the other collaborators?

<Eliza.>

The woman stopped in the act of turning away. 
"Yes?"

How to put this without giving it all away? 
Julia took a deep breath, then ventured forth.

<Are you dining in the restaurant this evening,
too?> Maybe if she could at least get Eliza
closer to the exits, the woman had a chance to
escape.

"I wasn't planning on it.  Why?"

<I want you there.> Julia feigned a desperate
look, as if she was afraid to dine alone with
the men.

"You don't need me there, Julia," Eliza said
softly.  "You'll do just fine by yourself.  I
wasn't invited, remember?"

<I'm inviting you.> Her hands shook, pleading.

Eliza smiled indulgently.  "I'm afraid you don't
have that authority, my dear.  And I don't want
to intrude.  I could get into trouble if I did."

As Eliza turned away, Julia rounded the table
and grabbed her arm.  The woman was startled by
her insistence.  "What is it?"

<You have to be downstairs tonight, Eliza.  I
insist.>

Julia searched the woman's face with worry,
trying not to give too much away.  If she could
convince Eliza that she was simply nervous about
meeting with the Appointing Authority, she could
possibly make her see that she needed her
presence downstairs.

<Please.>

"Where is all this coming from, Julia?" Eliza
asked, puzzlement now drawing her eyebrows
together.  "You've always been independent -
what's with all this worry?"

There really wasn't much more Julia could say
without revealing the attack, so she backed off
with a sad smile.

<I'm just frightened, that's all.> Looking at
her friend, she realized it could very well be
the last time she ever saw her.  Unbidden, a
sheen of tears gathered in her eyes.

Eliza put the tray down to take Julia's hands. 
"Don't worry, Julia.  I'll take my dinner
downstairs, if you wish.  I won't be able to sit
with you naturally, but I'll be close by.  Will
that do?"

At Eliza's promise, Julia embraced her with
relief, nodding.

"It'll be okay, Julia," she murmured. 
"Everything will be fine - you'll see."

Julia hoped so.  She really did.  Pulling away,
she sniffled away the tears.

"Now I really have to go."  Eliza picked up the
tray once again and rushed to the door with it. 
"If I'm going to dine downstairs, I must get
dressed, too.  And maybe procure a bit of
company for the evening."  With a wink, she was
gone.

She had done all she could do, Julia thought. 
When the attack came, she'd try to signal Eliza. 
If the woman didn't want to come with them, then
it was her choice.



End Chapter Twenty-five