I am in no way associated with the show passions, or any characters, and all that, but i do own all the children, alter ego Madison O'Malley, and that Sullivan guy.

"I’m so sorry," Sheridan said, from her place beside the devastated Luis, and turned to face him.
Realising his tears, she impulsively wrapped her arms around him, feeling horribly guilty for making him choose between her and his own father. She was surprised that Luis didn’t pull away or try to hide his grief. In fact he only hugged her back, in need of comfort. She was near tears herself, just because she couldn’t bear to see him so upset. Poor Luis…

It was 2 whole weeks later, after the funeral, and after many tearful, heartfelt conversations between Luis and Sheridan. Luis looked back at the time passed, and realized just how grateful he was to Sheridan for staying right beside him throughout the whole ordeal. She had been there for him as much as his own family. And often he had been impatient and cranky, snapping at her and being just plain difficult. But she’d never once deserted him when he needed a shoulder to cry on, or someone to argue with. But it had worked both ways. Luis had been there for Sheridan when she needed him to reassure her that he didn’t blame her for his father’s death. Now, sipping coffee at his kitchen table, Luis finally had time to reflect on the past two weeks. Glancing at his watch he realized he was almost late for work at the Youth Center.

Sheridan hurried around her cottage trying to get ready for work.
"Ethan, have you seen my bag?" She called from her bedroom, as she attempted to put on an earring. Where was the other one? She looked around.
Ethan, who had popped over for breakfast, shouted back, "Your bag is by the door!"
She quickly ran a brush through her hair, while still searching for her other earring. Frantically opening drawers, she fumbled through the junk within them. Suddenly a photograph caught her eye. One of herself and Luis at the Youth Center… It was this one particular day when Hank had brought in his new camera and insisted on taking pictures of everyone. She smiled at the memory. No one had been in a good mood, but they had stood there- arms over each other’s shoulders- looking like best friends. Hank had given the Polaroid to her afterwards. She picked it up lovingly, mentally taking note to frame it. Then she spotted the matching earring, and snatched it up quickly.
In a matter of moments, she was ready to leave.
Pulling on her coat, she turned to Ethan, "Sorry to leave in such a hurry, but I’m already 15 minutes late… Luis is going to kill me!"
Ethan smiled knowingly. Sheridan rushed out the door, and quickly headed off to work. She surprised herself by actually looking forward to seeing Luis. So much had happened lately that she thought (or at least hoped) that he wouldn’t be too angry that she was late.

"You’re late," Luis commented as he walked by. Sheridan had just gotten in the door, and hadn’t even taken her coat off yet. Yanking at the sleeves impatiently, she hung it up and hurried after him.
"Sorry, I lost track of time," she explained.
"Hmm…" Luis sounded distracted, as he frowned down at his desk, rummaging through papers.
"Not mad?" Sheridan asked, then continued before he could respond, "Great! I’ll just get right to work-" She started to quickly back up.
"Sheridan," the sound of Luis’s voice stopped her.
She winced then turned around, "Okay so half and hour IS pretty late… but I’m sorry, it won’t happen again, and you know I’m usually on time, well not usually but lately I’ve been pretty good…"
"Thanks," Luis interrupted her babbling.
"What?" Sheridan asked, confused.
"Thank you," he repeated, with a hint of a smile at her baffled look.
"I was thinking about the past two weeks this morning," he explained, watching the confusion melt into an understanding, "And you’ve been right by my side the whole time, keeping me from going crazy. I couldn’t have made it through without you. So… thanks."
Sheridan felt the insane desire to hug him again, to let Luis know just how much he’d helped her cope as well. But the best she could do at the moment was just smile.
"Thank you too," She replied.
Then she turned and stepped out of the office, pleased.
"And Sheridan…" Luis called after her.
She turned around, looking somewhere between hopeful and curious.
"You’re staying half an hour after work today to make up for this morning," Luis grinned impishly, and Sheridan sighed. She should have known better.

The day had never seemed so long to Luis. It had been strangely difficult to keep his mind on his work today. His thoughts kept drifting back to Sheridan. He hadn’t had a chance to speak to her since this morning, but he kept replaying the conversation in his head. Every slight movement and tone seemed to be permanently etched into his memory. The look in Sheridan’s eyes when he thanked her, the funny confused expression on her pretty face… everything. He caught himself watching her, and wondered what was going on. Sheridan Crane was driving him crazy, he thought to himself ironically, exactly the opposite of what he’d told her this morning.
Sheridan checked her watch for the millionth time. Finally her extra half-hour was up, and she was free to leave. She glanced around the gym, but it seemed she was the last person there. Sighing in relief, she quickly cleaned up, and headed for the door, switching off the lights. She was so familiar with the layout of the place, she had no trouble finding her way around in the dark. She thought she heard the door open and paused, but there was no sound. She continued forward, and reached to push open the door. Suddenly she crashed straight into something. Caught off guard, she yelped and was sent sprawling the floor in surprise. She felt a terrible pain in her right wrist, but ignored it for a moment, terrified of who or what she’d just bumped into. Blinking up into the dark she saw a face she recognized and exhaled slowly.
"Sheridan? I’m so sorry!" Luis offered her a hand, which she gratefully accepted –carefully– with her left hand. The right one was still throbbing.
"What are you still doing here?" She asked, furiously, "You scared me to death!"
"I had some paperwork to catch up on… I forgot you were staying late or I would have came in to keep you company! Are you okay?" Luis asked, still holding onto her arm. She could see his worried eyes peering at her through the darkness. She suddenly was aware of how close together they were standing. She backed up a step.
"I’m fine," she huffed, still a bit upset, but not willing to admit her insignificant injury.
"Good," Luis replied, steering her through the doorway with his hand on her shoulders.
At least there was dim lighting in the main entrance. Sheridan picked up her bag but sharply inhaled through her teeth at the searing pain in her wrist and dropped it on the floor. Luis turned to her, "Sheridan?"
"I’m fine, just my wrist is a little bruised," she explained.
Luis stepped forward to get a closer look, but she turned away to pick up the bag she’d dropped.
She barely had it off the ground when her wrist did the same thing and she dropped it again, and whimpered involuntarily.
"Let me see," Luis was suspicious.
"No, I’ll be fine," Sheridan protested, already embarrassed enough about running into him in the dark the way she had.
"You can’t even lift a bag," Luis pointed out.
Sheridan couldn’t think of a suitable response to that. Without waiting for one, Luis grabbed her shoulder roughly, and turned Sheridan to face him. He gently held up her wrist for his inspection. Sheridan didn’t protest this time. He gazed up at her with a look torn between amazement, worry, and frustration.
"It’s swelling up really bad," he commented. He applied pressure to various spots, asking if it hurt. Sheridan had a feeling she should be completely honest, and carefully described the pain.
"A little bruised?" he mumbled in astonishment, "It’s a wonder you’re not crying your eyes out right now. It looks like a serious brake or fracture. I’m taking you to the hospital."
"No!" Sheridan immediately shouted, wrenching her arm back, and wincing at the pain. Luis stared at her quizzically.
"I mean, I’ll take my self tomorrow… it’ll still be broken then, right? I’d rather not bother you," Sheridan replied in a more reasonable voice.
"You should go tonight," Luis protested, "It might get worse if you wait until tomorrow."
"Well then I’ll drive myself," Sheridan argued, "I’ve already kept you long enough, don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine."
"You can’t drive," Luis stated simply. Sheridan realized he was right.
"I’ll call a cab," she reasoned.
"I’m taking you to the hospital," Luis repeated, "After everything you’ve done for me, the least I can do is drive you to the hospital." Sheridan didn’t respond. Luis smiled, knowing he’d won.

Luis quickly locked up, and then they got ready to leave. He had to help Sheridan put on her coat carefully so she wouldn’t damage her wrist any worse.
"Ow, ow, ow," Sheridan complained, slipping her arm through the sleeve of her coat which Luis held open for her, "I’m not a two year old! I can get dressed by myself!"
Luis had only smiled, knowing that she was actually grateful for his help and concern. He could see it in her eyes. She sat beside him in his car. She had wanted to at least take her own car, but Luis didn’t think that was a good idea. She’d argued of course, about leaving it behind. But Luis had finally made a deal that he would get Ethan to drive it back later.
"I hate hospitals," Sheridan commented.
Luis was going to expand on her statement, but seeing the look of sadness mixed with fear, he decided to just leave it alone. Whatever the reason, it appeared Sheridan had a good one for not liking hospitals. It was also apparent that she didn’t want to discuss it.
"Sorry," he apologized.
"Why?" She asked, confused.
"For making you go to one," Luis replied.
"Oh," Sheridan seemed taken aback. He wondered why. She slipped into that dreaded silence again. Luis didn’t know what to say. It started to rain out. Sheridan looked out the window. Luis wished he knew what she was thinking.

Sheridan didn’t want to go to a hospital, but knew she had to. She also didn’t want to be in Luis’s car, sitting beside him. He was so close, only inches away… To distract herself she looked out the window at the falling rain, pretending to be interested. If only he’d start a conversation. The silence was weighing heavily upon them. There was tension in the air. Sheridan could hear him breathing. Don’t even look over there, she told herself.
After what seemed like forever, they arrived at the hospital.
"Thanks for driving me here," Sheridan leaned over to thank Luis before getting out of the car, "It means a lot to me. Thank you for being so understanding." She got out of car, both relieved and disappointed at the same time.
Luis got out too. Sheridan turned around, startled, "What are you doing?"
"Coming with you," he replied, "I’ve brought you all this way, I’m not just going to leave you in the parking lot. I plan to be a gentleman and walk you to the doors."
He had such a charming smile plastered on his face that Sheridan couldn’t help but smile when he came around the side of the car and bowed before her. Then he hooked arms (her good one) with her to "escort" her to the doors. Despite her protests, Luis waited with her in the waiting room. Even though she pretended to be perfectly composed and not at all worried, he could tell she was. Sheridan’s eyes restlessly surveyed the room, darting from place to place, never settling on one particular thing. They were sitting side by side, Luis on her left. They waited for a long time, sometimes chatting, but mostly just sitting in silence. Every now and then Sheridan would turn to Luis and half-heartedly tell him that she was okay and he should go home. He refused every time.
The chairs were those annoying ones that were attached together, like in movie theaters, where there was only one armrest between each chair. Sheridan had claimed it and Luis didn’t really care, but her left hand betrayed her otherwise calm composure. The fingers involuntarily tapped like crazy on the wooden armrest, but Sheridan didn’t even seem to notice. Luis watched it for a moment, then slowly laid his own hand on top of Sheridan’s, halting the paranoid tapping. He gently curled his fingers around hers, surprised that her hands were quite cold. She didn’t turn to face him but inhaled at his touch. His hands were warm and gentle. Sheridan felt safe somehow. She flipped her hand over slowly and their fingers interlocked. Sheridan never wanted to brake the connection they had right now.
Luis didn’t let go until the nurse summoned Sheridan in. They both stood up, and stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment before reluctantly letting go. After watching her go Luis decided to stay until she was done then drive her home.

What seemed like ages later, Sheridan emerged with a cast from her fingers almost to her elbow. It still hurt a lot, but the doctors had given her painkillers, so it was subsiding. She went to the desk to fill out the paperwork, yawning. It must be quite late by now, Sheridan thought. She soon discovered that she couldn’t write much better than a child with her left hand. It certainly wasn’t legible. She slammed down the pen in frustration, tired and cranky. She was so upset that she was absurdly near tears. She didn’t notice Luis come up behind her until she felt his hand on her shoulder.
"Need some help?"
She whirled around, surprised, "What are you still doing here?" Then, in answer to his question, "Yes, actually, I could use some help."
"No problem," Luis agreed, taking the pen and papers from her. He filled in the information as she told it to him. Then he drove her home. The ride back was more relaxed and they chatted easily about anything that happened to come to mind.
"Will you come in for a cup of coffee or something?" Sheridan offered wearily.
Luis was about to decline, but he changed his mind, realizing he should make sure she settles in all right. He still felt guilty over being the cause of her accident. And ever since they’d returned from Santa Fay, Luis had kind of adopted the idea of taking care of Sheridan. He thought back to that night when Sheridan had nearly drowned and been delirious. She had thrown her arms around Luis sobbing ‘Don’t let me die!’ And he had comforted her, ‘It’s all right, I’m here, I’m going to take care of you know, you’ll be okay…’ He had promised to keep her safe. He shook the memory away, snapping back to the present situation. He should make sure that Sheridan was as "okay" as she claimed. Coffee would be a good cover.
Luis surprised Sheridan by accepting her offer.
After stubbornly refusing to let him help, she eventually made it through the simple task of making coffee. Although not with out difficulty. It was infuriating not to be able to do such ordinary things. She hadn’t realized just how disabled she was. Having only one hand made things quite challenging.
By now it was very late. Luis had noticed worriedly how easy things were hard for Sheridan. Still worried about how she would manage, he made a snap decision to stay.
"Would you mind if I crashed on the couch tonight?" Luis asked, "Because it’s really late –only a few hours until I’m back to work– and if you feel up to coming in tomorrow-"
"I will," she interrupted.
"If you do," Luis continued, "Then I’ll drive you in as well, since you still can’t drive and you don’t have your car. And it’ll save me a drive home. My family would be asleep, I’d rather not disturb them by coming in so late."
Sheridan was thoughtful for a moment, then nodded tiredly, "Sure."
"Thanks," he replied.
"One question though…" Sheridan smiled.
"What?"
"Do you snore?"

"You’re going to sleep like that?" Sheridan asked, when she came out of her bedroom to find Luis lying on the couch, still fully dressed, without any covers.
"I’ve had worse," Luis shrugged, sitting up.
"Well, I’m bringing you some warm blankets whether you like it or not –it can get pretty chilly here– and I think I have a few of Ethan’s tee shirts and things you could borrow," Sheridan said.
"I think I’ll be fine," Luis declined.
"Okay," Sheridan moved over to the linen closet to get some blankets for him though, and then went to change. She came back out later, and put on a fire to keep the place extra warm. It was awfully cold out tonight. She made hot chocolate, and offered some to Luis who accepted. They laughed and talked while sipping hot chocolate and sitting in front of the fire. Then Sheridan realized how late it was.
They got up, and regretfully parted ways. For the second time that night they stared deeply into each other’s eyes for a long time.
"Goodnight Sheridan," Luis broke the silence.
"Goodnight Luis," she replied.
They went to their designated sleeping quarters, turning off the lights, but both knew that they wouldn’t sleep tonight. Not with the other so close by. And yet both were wishing the other was even closer.

The next morning Sheridan was the first one awake. With some difficulty, she showered and dressed, and made some coffee. A few times, she stopped to watch Luis sleep. She had rarely seen him look so peaceful.
Luis woke up to the smell of coffee, and the sound of a radio faintly playing and someone humming and walking around. Momentarily forgetting where he was, Luis yawned, stretched, and rolled over. Then he fell off the couch. Blinking in surprise, he suddenly remembered where he was and sat up straighter. He found himself staring straight at Sheridan who was struggling to keep a straight face.
"Are you all right?"
"I think so…" Luis shook his head, slightly annoyed and embarrassed.
"I didn’t want to wake you up," Sheridan explained.
Luis stared at her without even meaning to. Her hair was still wet from a shower, and she wasn’t wearing any makeup. But to Luis, she had never looked more beautiful. Maybe it was the infectious smile on her face. He was impressed that she had managed so well this morning.
"You’re staring," Sheridan smiled.
"Sorry," Luis mumbled, tearing his gaze away from her and rubbing his eyes. Somehow he hadn’t thought of Sheridan as a morning person. And yet he had never seen her so… happy.
"The shower’s free," Sheridan pointed to the bathroom.
"Thanks," Luis replied, and went off in that direction.
By the time he’d finished, Sheridan had a breakfast of eggs, bacon and toast on the table.
"Wow," Luis commented, coming to sit beside her at the table.
"Didn’t think I could cook?" Sheridan asked teasingly. They chatted all through breakfast, then –with Luis’s insisted help– cleaned up the kitchen and got ready for work.
With her right hand in a cast, Sheridan found out that attempting to put makeup on was impossible. She asked Luis for help. He was surprisingly good at it. Sheridan teased him about it. Luis had almost never had such a great morning. Sheridan was great company, easy to talk to, fun to be with.
Luis had the interesting jobs of putting her earrings in, applying lipstick, tying her shoes (which Sheridan found absolutely hilarious) and other assorted things. By the time they left for work, Luis couldn’t stop smiling at the memories. The way Sheridan would giggle every time he told her to stay still because she couldn’t stand the seriousness or the silence. How he’d brushed her hair while she held the blow dryer, then deciding it would work better the other way. How close he had felt to her.
She didn’t even complain about him driving her to work.
After arriving a the Youth Center, they parted ways. Luis went to his office, and met Hank on the way. He smiled at his friend, happily.
"You’re late…even though you certainly look happy today… almost giddy, if that’s not too inappropriate," Hank grinned, surprised at Luis’s sunny attitude.
"Had a good morning," Luis replied.
"I didn’t think you were much of a morning person," Hank said, curiously.
"I wasn’t," Luis confirmed, still unable to stop smiling.
Just then Hank noticed Sheridan walk across the hall, "Hey, what happened to her arm?"
"She dislocated it last night," Luis replied.
"Did she tell you?" Hank asked.
"Nope, I was there," Luis explained, "We both had to work late, and forgot the other was here, and crashed into each other in the dark. She hurt her wrist really badly, so I drove her to the hospital."
"Oh," Hank nodded.
"Then I was worried about her," Luis continued, "So I took her home and went in for coffee. But she could hardly even make coffee. So I stayed overnight. Then this morning was great… she’s a real morning person, fun to be with. She can’t drive so I drove her back to work this morning."
Hank digested all this information. He was about to say something, but changed his mind, "I’m going to get some coffee and muffins, you want anything?"
"No, I’m full… Sheridan made us this great breakfast," Luis replied.
"You guys didn’t… y’know… " Hank asked.
"What?" Luis was confused, then he realized, "No! Of course not! Why would you think that?"
"Well you made it sound as if you two were married or something… I was just curious… anyway, see yah later!" Hank said and hurried off.
Married? No way…
Luis thought about the time that had passed since yesterday at this time. Everything seemed different now. What had Sheridan done to him? Still he couldn’t stop smiling. For the first time the idea struck Luis that maybe, just maybe, he had fallen in love. In love with Sheridan Crane.

Sheridan kept thinking about her night and morning with Luis. She remembered all of it. The way he’d known exactly when she’d needed help, his gentle hands putting on her necklace for her, the surprised look when he fell off the couch, and all the times they had laughed together; everything.
It wasn’t until now – reflecting on her morning – that Sheridan realized perhaps she had fallen in love with Luis Lopez-Fitzgerald.

After that day, Luis and Sheridan avoided each other a bit. Well, as much as they could avoid each other since they worked together everyday. They both needed space and time to think. Most importantly, they were both agonizing over whether the other felt the same way.
Ethan took care of Sheridan until her wrist healed. It didn’t take too long. After a week, the cast was switched to a sling, then to just a tensor bandage. By the time the second week was almost up, it was nearly completely healed. During this time, Luis and Sheridan barely spoke to one another, but they did still watch each other closely –often sending secret glances and sharing smiles.
One day at the Youth Center, Sheridan and some of the kids were painting a sign when Luis came in. Sheridan was marveling at how great it was to be able to use her right hand again, and didn’t notice Luis come up behind her.
"Sheridan-"
Startled, she whirled around – paintbrush in hand – and accidentally splashed blue paint all over Luis. Trying to keep a straight face, Sheridan looked up at him apologetically. The kids – afraid Luis was going to blow up – took off. "I’m sorry," Sheridan choked back a giggle that was threatening to surface. She couldn’t tell from his expression whether he was going to laugh or yell. To her surprise he did neither. With lightning-quick speed, Luis grabbed a discarded paintbrush and splashed her back. She gasped in shock, then stared at Luis, amazement turning to a pleased look. She grabbed a handful of paint and threw it at Luis who promptly did the same. They threw paint at each other, laughing and screaming, until they were both covered, from head to toe in multi-coloured paint.
Finally, laughing, they collapsed together in a pile on the floor. Then Luis seemed to remember something, "They’re doing work on the men’s shower room."
Sheridan laughed harder at that, and then got up, pulling Luis with her. They stopped at the entrance to the women’s room.
"No way," Luis backed up.
"You don’t want to be covered in paint all day, do you?" Sheridan asked, grinning mischievously. Luis gave in and let her drag him inside. They discover that there was only one working shower.
"I’m first," Sheridan announced.
"No, I’m first!" Luis argued, "I have to get out of here as quickly as possible, what if someone comes in?"
"Too late!" Sheridan started the water.
"Oh no you don’t!" Luis grabbed her from behind. They playfully tackled each other, wrestling to see who could get in first. Luis suddenly tripped and fell in, pulling Sheridan with him. They both laughed as the hot water rushed over them, and stood up.
"We can share," Sheridan laughed.
They began scrubbing the paint off themselves and their clothes, discovering with relief that the paint was washable.
"Hey, you missed a spot," Sheridan giggled, and wiped paint off Luis’s forehead.
"Well, you’re no better," he replied, taking some off Sheridan’s face. With their attention diverted from themselves, they began cleaning each other instead, finding it was more effective, and more fun. They took turns washing the paint out of each other’s hair, by gently massaging. They also washed each other’s shoulders, necks, arms and faces. Sheridan suddenly realized just how close they were standing. Luis seemed to notice at the exact same time. They stared at each other through the hot water and steam. Then simultaneously stepped closer together and kissed. Both Sheridan and Luis thought it was the most passionate, romantic kiss ever. Then, between kisses, they struggled to get each other’s clothes off. The paint continued to drip off them but they didn’t even notice anymore.

Wearing towels, Sheridan and Luis waited for their clothes to dry. After the shower, they had sneaked into the laundry room without anyone noticing.
Now they sat side by side, watching the clothes tumble and spin in the dryer. Neither said a word. There was so much to say, but no one really wanted to talk. Instead, Luis reached over and took a hold of her hand, the same way he had done at the hospital. This time Sheridan turned to look at him. They smiled at each other then kissed again, pulling away at the sound of the buzzer.
"Laundry’s done," Luis whispered in her ear.
Sheridan was tempted to shrug and say ‘who needs it?’ but knew that people would get suspicious if they were gone too long. She stood up and got her clothes out of the dryer, Luis did the same. After they got dressed and freshened up, Luis once more grabbed Sheridan’s hand, paused for one more kiss, then they walked out the door together.
They separated and then entered the gym, first Luis, and then 5 minutes later, Sheridan.
Hank and Beth looked up and saw them.
"Where have you two been?" Hank asked," Beth and I just spent forever cleaning up all this paint and finishing this sign!"
"Paint?" Luis asked innocently, stealing a glance at Sheridan who was forced to bite her lip to keep from laughing.
"Yah it looked like some of the kids had a paint fight… it was a disaster!" Beth complained. Sheridan and Luis looked at each other, trying to hide their grins.
The rest of the day went on like this, and both Sheridan and Luis were relieved to finally get away from the Youth Center and their friends… even each other. They had been forced to work together all day and the temptation was driving them both insane.
When Sheridan returned to her cottage, she was surprised to find Gwen there.
"Gwen!" she exclaimed, "What are you doing here?"
"Sorry Sheridan, I thought maybe Ethan was here," Gwen replied.
"Oh, no I haven’t seen him," Sheridan replied. Gwen tilted her head and gave Sheridan a scrutinizing glance. Sheridan turned away from Gwen’s curiosity.
"What happened Sheridan? You look like the cat who swallowed the canary!" Gwen questioned, grinning. That girl’s perception was incredible, Sheridan thought to herself.
"Nothing," Sheridan tried to reply aloofly, but it didn’t work.
"Come on Sheridan! I know you’re hiding something," Gwen smiled, "You can tell me."
"Fine," Sheridan laughed, slumping down into the couch cushions beside Gwen, "It’s Luis."
"Is this a good or bad thing?" Gwen asked.
"Good, very good," Sheridan replied, smiling, "At least I think so…"
Sheridan told Gwen the whole story – everything that had happened today at the Youth Center. Gwen was suitably happy for Sheridan, "That’s great, but you still sound a bit… doubtful."
"Well yah," Sheridan frowned a little, "See, he never told me he loves me…"
"Do you love him?" Gwen asked. Sheridan nodded.
"Did you tell him?"
Sheridan shook her head no.
"Well then what are you so worried about?" Gwen asked.
"Remember what happened with Jean-Luc?" Sheridan replied glumly.
"Don’t even think about that! You know as well as I do that Luis is nothing like Jean-Luc!" Gwen insisted, then in a more understanding voice, "I think you should tell him you love him."
"I don’t know," Sheridan didn’t want to get her heart broken again. She could remember quite clearly how horrible she felt after learning the truth about Jean-Luc. In fact, Sheridan had had a miserable time in Harmony between her nightmares and Luis, and then everything changed when they went to Santa Fe. Although Sheridan had found out that she hadn’t killed Martin Fitzgerald, she did on occasion still have the terrible nightmares.
Sheridan shuddered just thinking about it, and tried to replace the haunting images with nicer, happier ones, like thinking of Luis and their new found romance.

It was a few nights later, both Luis and Sheridan were fast asleep at her cottage, that Sheridan had another nightmare. The flashbacks were terrifyingly real, and the voice was saying something different this time. It was saying something about having it all figured out, but did she consider coincidence? Sheridan didn’t understand, and cried out in confusion. Then the usual dream resumed.
In reality Sheridan squirmed around crying "It’s not my fault… I’m not wicked, I didn’t do it!"
Luis woke up hearing Sheridan’s cries.
"I’m sorry… I’m so sorry!" Sheridan sobbed.
"Sheridan," Luis sat up, trying to calm her down.
"I didn’t do it! It’s not my fault!"
Luis gathered her into his arms, and smoothed the hair away from her forehead, "Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay… it’s just a dream Sheridan."
"I’m not a murderer!" Sheridan sobbed, responding to something in her dream. Luis found that outburst disturbing. He remembered when she had been locked in a magician’s box, and he’d rescued her to find her crying that ‘She didn’t do it’ and ‘It wasn’t her fault’. And he also remembered one time in Santa Fe, he had heard her screaming in the hotel room next to his so he broke down the door, to see if she was okay. She had been having another nightmare like this one.
"I didn’t do it," Sheridan’s cries grew a little quieter now, and she suddenly woke up, finding herself in Luis’s arms. He dried the tears from her face, telling her that she was having a bad dream. Sheridan was grateful he was there, but worried about anything she may have said. Staring up at him worriedly, she asked "What did I say?"
"You just kept saying you didn’t do it and it wasn’t your fault… oh, and you apologized a couple times," Luis said, deciding to keep the murderer comment to himself for now.
"Okay," Sheridan sounded relieved, and Luis wondered why.
"You’re okay, now," Luis said soothingly, "Let’s go back to sleep."
Sheridan nodded, and nestled back under the covered, feeling chilled even though it wasn’t at all cold. She remembered the most frightening part of her dream… the mention of coincidence. Sheridan lay awake for a long time after words, thinking about what it could have meant. Suddenly a thought came to her. She had been assuming it was Martin Fitzgerald she’d killed since he disappeared on the same night, but what if that was just a coincidence? This new possibility was startling. She had so firmly believed that if Martin Fitzgerald was alive then she wasn’t a killer after all, but what if she had been wrong all along? Sheridan shivered, realizing that she was back at square one.
She finally fell asleep, tiring herself out by worrying. As she drifted off, she mumbled, "No one would love me if they found out… I wouldn’t deserve to be loved…"
Luis, who had been awake the whole heard her last sleepy comment and thought ‘I love you’, but wondered all over again if there was something Sheridan wasn’t telling him.

The next morning, Luis seemed… distant, Sheridan thought. At first she wasn’t too worried. He got called in to the station, and left Sheridan with a sinking feeling. She didn’t know why or what, but she knew something was wrong.
Luis had just arrived when he ran into Sam.
"Where were you this morning?" Sam asked, "They called your house but you weren’t there. You’re lucky you’ve got a cell phone." Luis was silent. What could he say? He decided the truth was best, since it would eventually come out anyway.
"I was at Sheridan’s."
"Sheridan Crane?" Sam asked, confused, "What were you doing there?"
Luis blushed a little, and gave Sam a look that said it all. Sam clued in at once and looked at Luis somewhat disapprovingly, or maybe he was just surprised, "What did I tell you about getting involved with the Cranes?"
"I love her," Luis said simply. Sam shook his head in amazement. Months ago, who would have guessed. Apparently there was a very thin line between love and hate. If Luis and Sheridan could fall in love, who knew what was possible! This seemed to defy the laws of nature.
"Well, Sheridan does seem different from the other Cranes I’ve known… she’s never been anything but nice to me. Just be careful, okay?" Sam nodded at Luis and then continued down the hall. Luis was pleased to have his chief’s approval. He hoped Sheridan wouldn’t mind him telling Sam about them. But then again, she had told Gwen, so they were even now. He smiled thinking about Sheridan, but then frowned. He remembered her nightmare last night. Was it just a bad dream, or was Sheridan being haunted by something in her past.
Whatever it was must have been terrible, if she’s still having nightmares about it. She had mentioned being a murderer… or rather, denied being a murderer. Luis seriously doubted that Sheridan was capable of killing anyone, but doubts still nagged at him. He sighed, the only way to find out for sure was to ask her.

Sheridan had called Ethan over soon after Luis had left. Gwen had told him about Sheridan and Luis already, so she didn’t have to explain that at least. But now she shared her latest fear with her nephew.
"I had another nightmare last night," Sheridan began.
"I thought you said that didn’t happen anymore!" Ethan exclaimed.
"It doesn’t – at least not very often…" Sheridan replied, "Anyway, the one last night was different, but just as terrible. I must have been talking in my sleep again, or rather crying and yelling, because I woke Luis up…"
Ethan made a face but kept listening.
"I don’t know what I might have told him," Sheridan said worriedly, "When I woke up he assured me that I didn’t say anything besides ‘I didn’t do it’ and ‘It wasn’t my fault’ and apologies, and I believed him at first. But he was really distant this morning and barely said goodbye before rushing out the door like he was running from a killer… Oh Ethan, that’s what I am! Luis is right to stay away!" Sheridan’s eyes filled with tears.
"No you’re not, I thought you had it all figured out," Ethan said, giving his aunt a reassuring aunt.
Sheridan gasped upon hearing the exact words that had been spoken in the dream.
"What?" Ethan asked, concerned.
"Oh, nothing," Sheridan composed herself, "I’ll be okay. But I think I’m going to have to tell Luis about… that night. "
"Are you sure that’s such a good idea?" Ethan asked skeptically, "Because he may be your boyfriend, but he’s still a cop, Sheridan."
"I know but I think maybe he’ll be able to help me. Since he is a cop, he can help me find out if anyone was killed that night, or missing or whatever. If we found out that I am a murderer, then I’ll go to jail peacefully. It would be a suitable punishment. I just don’t want to live with the guilt or the uncertainty for the rest of my life," Sheridan announced.
"Okay, as of yet I’m not telling Dad about any of this. He’d put an end to this relationship right away," Ethan said, "But if this situation gets even a little out of hand…"
Sheridan’s eyes widened in fright at the mention of Julian finding out. He’d tell Allistar and then who knows what would happen. She was about to protest, but one look at Ethan’s resolved face, and she just sighed.

Luis came over to Sheridan’s that night as they had planned.
"Luis I have something important to tell you," Sheridan said.
"I have something I need to talk to you about too," Luis replied.
"Okay, you can go first," Sheridan urged, and then the two of them sat down side by side on her couch. The air around them was filled with tension.
"All right," Luis started, and looked into Sheridan’s eyes, "There was something else you said last night that I didn’t tell you about." He paused momentarily to watch an expression of horror and despair consume her face. "You said ‘I’m not a murderer’. Can you explain to me what you meant?"
Sheridan nearly fainted. This was the worst-case scenario she had always been terrified of even more than that dreadful night. But she took a deep breath, and began her explanation.
"This is the important thing I had to tell you," Sheridan gave Luis a faint smile, and grabbed his hand, in need of support, "When I was a little girl I used to have terrible nightmares. This one night I fell asleep on the couch in the living room. I don’t have a clear memory of what happened but I know that there was a body under a sheet on the floor, and that I had blood all over my hands. Someone was putting the body into a coffin. I was watching. A voice was telling me that I was wicked and I’d killed the person. I said I didn’t but it kept telling me I did. I told it that it wasn’t my fault… it’s wasn’t… but the blood… all over… I didn’t do it… I didn’t…" Sheridan broke off, tears streaming down her face. She had let go of Luis’s hand and held her own up staring at them in horror, as if she could still see the blood. She had gotten lost in her own nightmare. Luis gently shook her shoulder and called her name. Sheridan blinked through salty eyes and saw Luis’s concerned face. She realized she had gotten off track. She inhaled sharply and resolved to continue.
"Ethan heard my screams, as did most of the other staff and household. But they didn’t think it was anything more than the usual nightmares. Somebody came and took me back up to my room. I wouldn’t stop screaming about killing someone. They all thought I was hysterical. No one believed me… there were no traces of blood in the living room, and no bodies or coffins. Everyone said it was just another nightmare. But I wouldn’t let it go, so the next day, they shipped me off to Paris to a mental institute. Well, not quite, but the doctors there spent all their time trying to convince me that it just a dream. They told me no one would ever love me if they found out. My own family never loved me. Except Pilar. I never really believed them that it was all a dream. It was too real. I’ve had to live my life wondering if I was really a killer. Coming back to Harmony was terrible. I still can’t go in the living room because it brings back too many memories. I thought that I was finally rid of my past when we found Martin Fitzgerald in Santa Fe. See, the night that I killed- or thought I killed- someone was the same night Martin disappeared. I thought maybe that I’d killed him, but was too afraid to tell you. Then we found him and I thought that maybe it was just a bad nightmare after all. So that’s basically it. Hardly anyone knows about this… please don’t tell anyone… I just, I thought you had a right to know. You can arrest me if you want… whatever happens, I’m just glad that I finally told you." She paused, "I love you, Luis."
Luis had listened with stunned silence. The times when Sheridan’s voice had wavered, he’d squeezed her hand to let her know he was there. Everything seemed to fall into place. The magician’s box had reminded her of the coffin. The time she freaked out because she got paint on her hands at the Youth Center was because of the blood. How persistent she had been in Santa Fe. Her defensive nature. Even the day she had rammed into his card explaining that her mind had wandered and then she’d started crying. All the thing his mother had told him about how her life wasn’t as easy as he’d assumed, that he should show her a little kindness. It all made sense now. Luis regretted many angry and harsh words. Then the last bit clicked in. She loved him? Luis turned to look at her suddenly. Sheridan stared back with eyes filled with a kind of loneliness and horror he could never understand. She waited for him to say something. Luis didn’t know what to say.
Had it been all a dream as so many people seemed to insist? Or were the Cranes covering up a crime. He had no doubt in his mind that Sheridan was innocent, just a scared little girl caught in the middle of something sinister. He didn’t know if what she had told him was real or not. It must have quite traumatizing since she still couldn’t even go into the room. He felt sorry for the younger Sheridan who had gone through so much, and obviously felt so unloved. He too thought it was a strange coincidence that Martin Fitzgerald had vanished on the same night. He honestly didn’t know what to say about her story, but knew of one thing he had been wanting to tell her for quite a while.
He leaned over and hugged Sheridan, then whispered in her ear, "I love you too, Sheridan."

Luis was troubled. All day he had been in his office looking up murders, missing people, and other things that might prove helpful. He was determined to find out – for Sheridan’s sake – what had really happened that night. He did some careful hacking into the mortician’s computer system.
The mortician that he had met during the confusion over his father’s body. The one who had (as Sheridan claimed) handled all the deaths in the Crane family for years. He discovered a few things. One was that there was an unaccounted-for coffin, with a record of where it had been delivered stored in a secret file. Luis couldn’t get in without the password. After a long time of trying, he gave up, frustrated. But it had been on the same night, which he thought was a strange coincidence. After trying a few more times, he figured it out. Accessing the file, he discovered that it had been delivered to the Crane estate. Evidence, Luis realized. He quickly made a copy of the document on a disk and put it in his pocket. Then, angry, he marched out of the station and headed out to the Crane estate, vowing to get some answers this time.
His mother wasn’t working that day, so Luis didn’t have to worry about seeing her there.
Luis was surprised when Julian Crane himself answered the door.
"Luis! I must say it’s quite a… surprise to see you at my front door…" Julian smiled that phony smile of his that made Luis furious. He took a deep breath, reminding himself not to loose his temper.
"I have some questions to ask you Julian," Luis stated calmly.
"Well then by all means, come in… I’m sure we look quite foolish standing in the doorway like this," Julian laughed and walked into the living room, expecting Luis to follow. Luis closed the door behind himself, his gaze darting from place to place, taking everything in. The Crane mansion never ceased to amaze him.
Ivy was nowhere to be seen, or Ethan and Sheridan for that matter.
"May I ask what these questions are in reference to?" Julian smirked.
"In regard to an unaccounted-for coffin delivered to the Crane estate on the night of April 4th, 1983," Luis replied coldly. Julian’s sarcastic grin disappeared and he looked ready to explode.
"Where did you find that information?" he demanded.
"An anonymous source," Luis replied easily.
"Well, your source is obviously lying, there was no such coffin delivered here! I’m sure I would remember an event such as that! Honestly Luis, must you believe everything you hear? As hard as it is for you to believe, there are other people who hate the Cranes as much as you do and would make up a story like that in no time," Julian rolled his eyes, dismissing the conversation.
"I see," Luis narrowed his eyes, "So you’re denying the whole thing."
"Not hard to do when there’s nothing to deny, Officer Lopez-Fitzgerald," Julian grinned.
"All right Crane, we’ll play this your way – for now. But I know you’re hiding something, and I intend to find out what," Luis threatened, then stormed out, frustrated at Julian Crane’s lack of response.
After he left, Julian cursed under his breath… how had Luis found out about that night. Hardly anyone knew… there was Henry- the funeral guy – but Julian was convinced the pathetic little man would never rat on him. Then an idea struck Julian who became more and more furious with each passing second.
Sheridan.
"Ethan get in here, it’s important," Julian ordered, then took a long gulp of his drink.
"Yes father?" Ethan entered the room on command.
"What’s going on between Sheridan and Luis?" Julian asked cautiously.
"You don’t know?" Ethan smiled, "I thought everyone did by now… it seems unbelievable, but those two are in love with each other!"
Julian choked on his drink.
"I know, I could barely believe it myself," Ethan grinned at his father’s reaction to the news, "It’s wonderful, I’ve never seen Sheridan so happy… but I’m surprised she hasn’t mentioned it to you yet."
"Yes well, Sheridan and I haven’t really been given an opportunity to talk lately," Julian lied.
Why hadn’t he seen it coming? Of course Sheridan would tell her hero Luis about the big bad Crane family and how she still has terrible nightmares, and of course Luis would try to save his little princess. Julian chuckled to himself.
"You can go now, Ethan, I know you’re anxious to go meet Gwen," Julian dismissed his son.
Ethan shrugged and went off.
Julian considered the other possibility that Sheridan hadn’t said anything to Luis… purposely. It was a well-known fact that she talked in her sleep. And if she and Luis were really… well, he might have put the pieces together on his own. Nonetheless, Julian had to think of something and fast.

"How was your day?" Sheridan asked as Luis came through the door of her cottage.
"It just got better," Luis smiled at her.
Sheridan smiled shyly at the compliment. She came over and began massaging his shoulders, "You’re so tense, rough day?"
"Yeah," Luis replied letting his muscles relax, and slumping down into a chair.
"Wanna talk about it?"
"Not really."
"Okay."
"Well…"
"Well what? "
"I did some investigating…"
"Did you find what you were looking for?" Sheridan asked.
"Yes and no," Luis admitted, "I found evidence but the suspect won’t admit to his crime."
"Oh. That’s tough," Sheridan agreed, still gently rubbing his shoulders and back.
"That feels good," Luis smiled, closing his eyes.
"So are you going to tell me about your case, or is it confidential?"
"Um… confidential I suppose… well no, you should probably know…" Luis was indecisive, "I talked to Julian today… about that night… the one you told me about."
Sheridan hands suddenly stopped and jerked away.
"What?"
"To help you find out the truth… so you could know what really happened," Luis explained.
"I don’t believe this," Sheridan sighed angrily, "You conducted a whole investigation and questioning without even asking me… or at least telling me?"
"I didn’t think you’d mind," Luis said feebly. Sheridan had backed up a few paces as if even being near him was unbearable. "I was only trying to help," he tried.
"Help?" Sheridan echoed with disbelief, "You’ve jeopardized everything! And you actually confronted Julian about this? I could have told you he wouldn’t admit to anything… you think I haven’t tried asking? Now that he knows you’re on to him, he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you – and me – from ever finding out the truth! I knew I should never have told you about my past. I should have known it would be too irresistible to a cop. Serves me right for thinking I could trust you… get out! I can’t even look at you right now I’m so angry!"
Luis looked slightly annoyed, "You’re blowing this out of proportion, it’s not as terrible as you make it seem! I didn’t do anything wrong!"
"That’s the worst part," Sheridan was furious, "You don’t even understand what you’ve done! Just go away!"
"No!"
"Leave me alone!"
"I’m not leaving!"
"You better damn well get off my property this instant, Officer or else I’ll have you arrested for trespassing and harassment," Sheridan looked so serious that Luis gave in, still angry over her reaction.
"Fine," Luis looked a bit hurt, and Sheridan softened a little.
"Okay, I know you were just trying to help, but I need some alone time, all right?"
"I get the message," Luis grumbled.
"Good," Sheridan replied.
"Good," Luis mimicked her.
"Don’t even start with that," Sheridan warned, "Just leave."
"I only did it because I love you," Luis retorted angrily.
"Well I trusted you because I love you, and look what happened!" Sheridan shrugged coldly.
Luis glared at her, "Fine I’ll go home, I don’t need you telling me how terrible I am for trying to help someone I love. I think I can manage to be alone for one night."
"Well I don’t need you either," Sheridan tossed back.
"Fine!"
"Fine!"
"Goodnight!"
"Goodbye!"
After he left – slamming the door behind himself – Sheridan struggled to keep from crying. She really did need him, and she really did love him, but she was also still angry about what he’d done. She wished he’d back through that door and she would wrap her arms around him and tell him she was sorry – she didn’t mean to say all those terrible things. Suddenly the phone rang.

Luis woke up the next morning and thought glumly about his unsuccessful questioning and Sheridan’s angry eyes when she found out then ordered him out of her house. He decided to go apologize to her. He hadn’t thought it would be so unbearable to be away from her. After showering and dressing, he hurried down the stairs, but paused when he heard voices. Sad voices, crying voices. Alarmed, Luis quickened his pace. When he stepped into his kitchen he was amazed. All their friends were gathered in the small room. Even Ethan and Gwen. And everyone was crying and hugging each other. At first no one noticed, but gradually they all turned sympathetic glances to him, and whispers began running from person to person. Luis pushed his way through, muttering half-hearted ‘excuse me’s, until he found his mother.
"Mama, what’s going on? Why is everyone here?" Luis asked. When his mother turned to him he realized she too had been crying.
"I wish I didn’t have to tell you this," Pilar choked back a sob, "It’s Sheridan…"
"Sheridan?" Luis panicked, "What about her? Is she okay?"
Pilar started crying again and held up a newspaper fold to a certain page. The first thing that caught his eye was a small picture of Sheridan smiling up at him. Then he read the caption.

Luis was tired and beginning to think his search was pointless. He had the distinct feeling that Sheridan was not dead as everyone seemed to think. Finally he tried one last location: the airport just outside of Harmony. He had looked everywhere in the small town, including every kind of transportation station, asking around if anyone had seen her.
He started to ask random people, anyone who would listen, if they had seen this girl and flashed a photograph around. Finally an elderly man stopped and squinted at it.
"Oh yes," he said, nodding, "The kind lady who gave me directions! She was over there last I saw her… so terrible to see someone so pretty looking so sad." He pointed to his left, and then hobbled off, clutching a piece off paper with written directions. Sheridan’s handwriting, Luis was sure. Running in that direction, Luis scanned the crowd, and finally spotted someone who resembled Sheridan staring out a window. He pushed through the crowds and eventually came up a few feet behind her, out of breath but so relieved that he’d found her.
"Sheridan," He gasped, wearily.
Hearing her name, Sheridan spun around startled. Her eyes widened in disbelief when she saw Luis, "What are you doing here? How did you find me?"
Luis walked the last few steps toward her and wrapped his arms around her. "I was so worried," he said, not answering the question, "What’s going on? How come you’re dead… even though you’re not really?"
Sheridan’s eyes hardened coldly, "Julian and Allistar happened, Luis. They found out about you and me, and what I’d told you. Then they disowned me. I’m denied any kind of contact with any members of the Crane family- including Ethan- and forbidden to set foot in Harmony ever again. They gave me some cash and sent me away. Then they faked my death. I’m nobody now." She broke off, unable to keep the tears in any longer.
"What should I change my name to?" she sobbed to Luis.
"You can’t let them do this to you Sheridan," Luis told her.
"If I don’t then they’ll actually have a body to put in the casket!" At Luis’s shocked expression, she nodded, "That’s right, Luis, if I don’t do what they say, they’ll kill me. I’m already technically dead, so they wouldn’t think twice about making a lie into the truth. I’m grateful they let me go at all. I honestly didn’t think I’d survive this ordeal."
"But, they’re your family," Luis stared at her in disbelief. He changed the subject, "Where are you going?"
"I’ll know when I get there," Sheridan sighed.
"How can I reach you?" Luis asked desperately.
"You can’t," she looked at him apologetically.
Luis’s eyes filled with tears. "I love you, Sheridan!"
"Sheridan loved you too," she said, tearfully, "It was her love for you that killed her."
They hugged again and kissed one last time, their tears mingling.
"Goodbye," Sheridan whispered, and then pulled back. She turned around and walked away, not once glancing back. She knew that if she did, she might not be able to stand it, and would run back to Luis.
Luis watched her disappear into the crowds, wiping the tears from his eyes. He stayed there for a long time after she’d gone, unable to move. It felt as though Sheridan had taken his heart with her and without it he felt hollow, empty. But no matter what happened he knew he would love her forever.

Luis Lopez-Fitzgerald was exploring Spain. He’d always wanted to see it, although it was only for a week that he was staying. It was beautiful, but it reminded him all too much of Sheridan Crane. It seemed as though she’d just dropped off the face of the earth a year ago. Luis had done everything he could to track her down. But she’d changed everything, including her name. It was as if she’d vanished. Only Luis, Julian, and Allistar knew the truth. Luis found it infuriating that he couldn’t accuse them of anything because he had no proof except for his word. No one would believe him anyway, as they all knew by now that Luis had been in love with her. They would think he’d gone crazy with grief. So Luis had tried everything he could think of to find her. Even months later, he still hopefully checked the mail everyday thinking maybe she’d send him a letter or postcard –even if she used a false name, he was positive he would know it was her. But nothing came, and Luis eventually gave up. He adopted his mother’s ritual of candle lighting. Every night he personally lit a candle for Sheridan. After a while, his friends and family thought it was time for him to get on with his life. He still thought about her all the time though, especially here.
He wandered into a coffeehouse and sat down, picking up a paper. A pretty, dark-haired girl came up to him, "May I take your order?" Luis glanced up sharply at the sound of her voice.
"What?" he asked, wanting to hear her speak again.
"I said, Can I take your order?" she repeated, with a trace of an accent, hidden in a high pitched, young-sounding musical voice. Luis shook his head. He was just imagining things. After all, this was Spain, he had never seen this girl before.
"Coffee," he said, " I like it with-"
"I know how you like your coffee!" She smiled as if he were being silly.
"Excuse me?" Luis questioned, disturbed.
"I… I mean… I can… usually tell how people like their coffee. It’s a gift… or maybe just the result of working here too long," She recovered.
"Try me," Luis was curious.
"Um, cream and sugar, not too sweet, not too strong," the girl guessed.
"Hey, you’re good," Luis was impressed, but a little suspicious.
"Thanks, I’ve had lots of practice," she smiled again, and walked away. Luis watched her go. She was very pretty, he thought to himself. Her straight, dark hair fell in layers that just barely brushed her shoulders. She had no bangs. She was slim, almost skinny, obviously without much money. She looked like she worked hard, even though she couldn’t be more than in her early twenties. She was dressed in jeans that were too big, and a clean white sleeveless shirt. Luis took an immediate liking to her. He somewhat surprised himself. She was the first girl he’d been even remotely interested in since Sheridan. She returned with his coffee.
"Thanks, um… Madison," Luis read her nametag.
"Madison O’Malley," she smiled at him. Luis extended his hand, replying, "Luis Lopez-Fitzgerald. Nice to meet you." For a split second, she hesitated, but then blinked and shook his hand.
"Nice to meet you too," Madison replied.

Later on, after he’d left, Madison sighed, relieved. She had recognized him the moment he’d walked in the door. She knew she should have let one of the other waitresses take his order, but she had suddenly felt the need to see him up close, speak to him. She had worried about shaking his hand, but it proved harmless. She watched him cross the street and stop to look back at the coffee place, then kept going. He hadn’t recognized her even though he did know her. At least, he had known her once… as Sheridan Crane.

Luis hadn’t been able to sleep all night thinking about the waitress, Madison O’Malley. There was something eerily familiar about her. Her eyes, her hands, but he couldn’t quite figure it out. So the next day he decided to go back to the coffeehouse and see her again.
"She doesn’t work today?" Luis glumly echoed the blond girl’s response.
"Nope," she confirmed.
"Well, could you give me directions to her place? Because I was supposed to meet her there, but I lost the paper with the directions she’d given me," Luis said sheepishly.
The blond waitress seemed to believe his story. She quickly scrawled down directions to an apartment building not too far away. Luis walked there slowly, enjoying the scenery. He reached the apartment and discovered she lived on the fourth floor with no elevators. Luis knocked on the door, but no one answered. Discouraged that all his work was for nothing, he was about to turn back, but a sudden thought struck him. Sure enough, there was a spare key taped to the bottom of a dingy-looking welcome mat. Impulsively, he unlocked the door and stepped inside. Looking around, he discovered that it was small and messy, with newspapers stacked on the floor, clothing hanging off the few pieces of furniture that consisted of two small wooden chairs, a coffee table, and a small desk that was cluttered with sticky notes and pens. The chairs looked like they might have once belonged to a kitchen table set. There was a telephone on the floor and a small, old looking radio that was missing an antenna. In its place, Madison had taped a fork. Luis smiled at the makeshift antenna. Then he heard the meowing. Madison had a kitten. It came rushing out to greet Luis, not at all shy. He picked up the furry little creature and was patting it when he heard the door. Standing there was a furious-looking Madison.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded.
"I came to see you," Luis replied, honestly.
"How did you get in… I locked the door!" Madison countered.
"I once had a," Luis paused, "… friend… who always kept a spare key taped to the bottom of her welcome mat. I thought maybe it was a popular habit."
"So you found the key and then broke in? I’m calling the police!" Madison rushed towards the phone. Luis set the kitten down, and tried to stop her.
"No wait!" He started, but was interrupted by the kitten that didn’t scamper away as he thought it would, but climbed onto his shoe and lay down. Luis couldn’t move his foot in fear of disturbing the cat.
Madison laughed, "Mitsy seems to like you, so you can’t be all bad."
Luis half smiled and bent down to pet the kitten again.
Madison suddenly noticed a framed photograph lying –quite visible –on the floor behind Luis. She quickly walked over there and snatched it up, hiding it behind her back.
"What’s that?" Luis asked curiously.
"Nothing," Madison said a little too quickly.
"Something you don’t want me to see," Luis concluded, suspicious. He moved towards her and she tried to duck the other way, but he darted in front of her and grabbed it from her hand.
"Hey!" Madison yelped, but it was too late. She nervously awaited his reaction.
Luis looked at it in shock. It was a picture of him. Now he was the one who was angry, "Where did you get this from?" She didn’t answer, just stared at the floor.
He looked at it again, and realized it was very familiar looking. He opened the frame and slid out the photograph. Sure enough, it was folded in half. On the other half was Sheridan. This had been her favourite picture. The one that he always saw on her dresser so long ago. Startled, he looked up at Madison.
"You’re Sheridan."