From inside there was a sound of breaking glass and a half-muffled woman's scream.

The officers finger flexed around the trigger of his gun. He took a deep breath. Where the hell were they?

"...stupid...I oughta....when....."

There was another cry, and then the sound of splintering wood as a chair crashed against the wall, and the man crouched in the hallway sprung forward. Screw the new recruits. He wasn't going to wait inside while someone was murdered.

In a single, powerful kick, the shabby door gave way, revealing the surprised expression of a low-brow thug and the battered, face of his young wife, cowering in the wreckage of their tiny kitchen. The fight had started at dinner. A fringe of cooling spaghetti hung over the rickety table, and tomato-sauce dripped onto the floor.

"What the hell are you doing?" The man screamed, as he overcame the shock of intrusion, and stormed toward the door. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Getting ready to pop your ass." He said, brandishing the pistol.

"Officer...." The shaky voice of the young patrolman who had followed him into the room was nervous, but full of warning.

The pistol lowered.

"You're under arrest."

"For what? Kicking this slut?" He leered. "She deserved it!"

The man's face whitened, as he looked into the officer's eyes. The insult had only been intended as bravado, but it was clear from the officer's expression that the word's had worked more than their intended effect. Something inside of him had snapped, turning the menacing, angry man into a crazed animal.

The pistol was raised again, and it wheeled around, the butt catching the man squarely across the jaw, sending him sprawling into the same wall where he had shattered the chair. Blood and broken teeth spattered the wall.

"How you like that?" The assailant challenged, crossing the room in two wide steps. "Not as much fun when they fight back, is it?"

He pulled his leg backwards and released it into his opponent's stomach. And again. Again. He liked it, and had to force back a smile as the boiling blood ignited by the man's taunts bled out in the violent assault.

"Officer!" Backup was pouring in now. The two recruits and a seasoned officer. "Officer stop!"

The man shrugged away a hand on his shoulder.

"Stop it! You're killing him!"

"Please." At the last voice, the kicking stopped. A foot hung suspended in mid-air as the attacker turned to face the woman who had addressed him.

She was sitting on the floor, still half-dazed by what had occurred, an ugly green bruise forming on the side of her uncommonly pretty face. She met his 's eyes, her own grey-green orbs distant and strained. "Not with the children here."

The foot lowered now, resting on the stained linoleum with a hollow tap. He turned. There were four of them. A boy of about seven huddled near his mother in the corner- a slap mark showing red across his cheek. Two more younger boys and an angelic, golden-haired girl, peering around the door, their tear-stained faces peering nervously around the doorway.

He swallowed, and then reached into his pocket for a handkerchief. He offered it to the woman, sheepishly, only vaguely aware of the other officers scurrying around him to remove the unconscious man from the floor.

"Iö" He stopped, looking down at his feet.

"Thank you." She said softly, taking the cloth, and then struggling to her feet. She smiled weakly, and then went to her son, dabbing the edges of his eyes, and then coaxing him into blowing his nose. She kissed him gently atop the head, and then folded him into her arms.

The boy was shaking, but he wouldn't cry.

It's always worse when you cry... The policeman bit his lip as, unbidden, memories of the past flooded back. He was that boy...his mother... The man grasped the back of a nearby chair tightly, clenching his eyes until they went away.

"What will happen to him?" He opened his eyes and watched her walk toward him, the boy still tucked tightly against her as she walked.

"Your...your son?" He frowned puzzled.

"My husband...." The voice was tinged with an unmistakable southern accent. Pain echoed in the tones. It was soft...faded somehow.

"They'll take him to the station for tonight...question him about a robbery. They...." He paused abruptly, wishing he had the handkerchief back to wipe away the sweat that beaded up on his brow. "Do you have anyplace to go, ma'am?"

She shook her head.

"We'll manage, officer...?" She met his eyes, bolder now as the pain was fading and she allowed her consciousness to drift back into the world.

"White...Bud White."

She smiled again. It was a fleeting movement. He would have missed it if he'd blinked. "Well, Officer White...we'll manage." We always manage... it was his mother's voice again.

He bit his lip.

"Tell the kids to get their coats."

She looked at him puzzled.

"Dinner...you..." But chewed his lip again, wanting to help, but never knowing what to say...what to do as the rage ebbed away. He looked around, gesturing helplessly around the kitchen to the broken plates that littered the floor and over-turned pots on the stove. "You didn't get to eat your dinner."

She continued to stare at him blankly.

"Get the kids I'll....I'll buy you some."

Gently, the woman squeezed her son's shoulder. "Tell Bobby and Randy to get dressed..." She whispered. "Help Kathy...". She looked up at Bud again, wary, but grateful.

"Thank you officer."

"Bud." He said, swallowing again.

"Bud."

"Can I take your order?" The voice of the waitress was jarring as it snapped the detective out of his reverie.

"Yeah, I'll have a cup of coffee and a piece of pie...everyone else is gonna have dinner. What do you want kid?" He gestured to the oldest boy not remembering his name.

"I wanna hamburger."

"You can share with your brother." For the first time, Bud noticed the lilting accent in her voice. She was from the east...the South...

"I don't want to share." Bobby piped in, whining.

Randy agreed. "I'm hungry."

The woman opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted.

"Five hamburgers."

"-I don't need anything, I-"

"And chocolate milkshakes...you like chocolate?" He asked, before the mother could interrupt. He could tell from her expression that she was embarrassed. That was fine, but she didn't have to make it so damn hard for him to be charitable.

"Milkshakes!" The two littlest boys said gleefully, their eyes sparkling at the prospect.

Bud turned to the waitress. "Five chocolate milkshakes..."

She scribbled notes on her rectangular green bad and shuffled off. Bobby and Randy, eyes still alight at their good fortune, began jabbing each other with their silverware. Kathy, the baby leaned sleepily against her mother.

The older boy, and his mother, simply stared.

Bud sighed, wishing his coffee would come, so he would have something to do with his hands.

"Your name." He said at last.

"Pardon?" The lilt again.

"I don't know your name."

The woman flashed another wry smile. "It's on the police report."

"I don't bring those on dates." Bud tried to coax another smile. "You're thinking of my partner."

It worked. The dark red lips twisted slowly into a smile. "I see, you're the one who Îdates' married women." He half expected her to revert into her dark humor at the mention of marriage, but she continued speaking. "I'm Evelyn Vaughn....Evvie..." She said the nickname softly, as if she hadn't heard it in a long time.

Bud nodded. "Bud." he repeated again.

There was another moment of silence as their coffee arrived, and the two grown ups sipped it nervously, Evvie taking an occasional break from staring to calm the two rowdy boys.

"Thank you." She said as she laid her coffee on the table. "I mean, I don't know how I'll be able to repay you until Hal gets out of jail but..."

"You don't have to repay me." Bud said quickly. "I mean this." He nodded to the children. "This is payment enough. I like to see them happy."

She slid her hand half-way across the table, and for a second, the detective thought she would touch him, but it lingered, the fingers softly drumming the grey formica tabletop.

"How did it happen...?" He said softly.

She stiffened her hand, her fingers arched back, as if she were inspecting her nails, but Bud was not fooled by her attempt at acting casual.

"Christmas." She said at last, chewing her lower lip.

"What?"

"She shrugged, looking over her shoulder at the doorway. "It'll be Christmas soon....Hal's been working for a while now, I thought we'd do it right this year...you know, get a tree, some presents for the kids. Have a turkey. " She looked at her hands again. "Like normal people."

She stopped talking as the food arrived. Even little Kathy worked through her burger and fries in record time. They were hungry, Bud realized, practically starving.

"So, what are you doing in Los Angeles?" Bud asked, before taking a bite of his pie. "I mean....you aren't from here. You're from..."

"Kentucky." She supplied. "I grew up there. We...Hal...thought he might get a job here."

"Did he?"

"Gettin's not the problem...keeping..." She shook her head. "I'd get a job myself if I didn't have the kids to look after. I can type real well...file things...I dunno. It'd be good for them, y'know. A role model or somethin."

Bud nodded. "You don't have to stay, you know."

"In Los Angeles?"

"With....with Hal."

She smirked, the sadness returning to her face. "I've been with Hal since I was fifteen years old. I know I'm not getting away...at least not walkin upright. She took a slow drink of her milkshake. "It's not so bad...you know how it is...if you don't cry...."

Her hand began to shake so badly that she nearly dropped the milkshake. She sat it down quickly. Without thinking, Bud covered her shaking fingertips with his palm. God she was cold. Scared. Their eyes met. Yeah, I know how it is...He wanted to say. And it *is* that bad...

Evie pushed her half-eaten burger and fries to the boys, not meeting Bud's gaze as he continued to hold her hand. "Hurry up, boys." She urged. "It's past bedtime."

"Is daddy coming home?" It was a tiny voice. Kathy's.

Evie shook her head. "Not tonight."

Kathy snuggled closer to her mother, passive as the younger brothers devoured the remains of her meal as well. "I'm glad." She said, suppressing a yawn.

She was asleep when they left the coffee shop, and Bud carried her down the sidewalk to the car in his arms.

The three boys stopped outside the store window, their attention distracted by a lighted evergreen encircled by a toy train and mounds of fluffy white batting.

"Wow." The oldest boy said, it was the first time that Bud had heard him speak. "Look at that..."

"Is that snow?" Randy asked, pointing at the fluff.

"Not real snow." Bobby noted, just pretend. "Mama, does it snow in Kentucky?"

"Sometimes." She said patiently.

"In Los Angeles."

"No."

"That's not entirely true." Bud interrupted, as Evie sheparded her sons forward. "I saw some one night when I was still on a beat."

"A beat?"

Bud patted Bobby's head. "That's a police term." He stopped and unlocked the car. "I'm a policeman."

"Is this a policecar?" Bobby asked, leaning forward in the seat.

"Not exactly." Bud admitted, settling Kathy into the floorboard of the back seat.

"I want to see the siren." Randy chimed in. "Is there a siren?"

"No siren."

"Aww...."With a grumbling, the little boys, and then their brother joined the sleeping girl in the rear of the car. The drive back to the apartment was short.

"I'll walk you up."

"You don't-"'

"Sure I do. Kathy's still asleep."

Evie nodded slowly, her eyes flashing with something the officer couldn't quite understand...resignation? Bud scooped the baby up and headed upstairs. The front door was hanging half-open and crooked on its hinges- a testament to the ferocious entry that Bud had made a few hours before. He looked around quickly, relieved to find that nothing was missing. Nothing worth stealing...

"You should fix this."

"The super will get it tommorrow."

"It's not safe. Somebody might come in here...I...I could stay."

Evie straightened from where she was easing Kathy out of her dress. There was the look again. He still didn't know what it meant.

"Would you, Officer White?" She said at last, her voice strangely hollow.

He shifted his weight uncomfortably. "I...sure."

He waited in the living room while the kids were tucked in bed. When Evie returned, she was wearing a faded satin nightgown and a heavy cotton robe.

She hesitated in the doorway, as if waiting for something.

Was he supposed to talk? Help her with something.

"Nice place you have here." He said awkwardly.

She exhaled sharply. "Ha." She said as she looked around the neat, but shabby space.

"You keep it up."

"I didn't want this." She relaxed her shoulders and crossed the floor to where he was sitting on the sagging couch.

"To be....poor?" He said tenatively.

"To be pitied."

"I don't...pity you....I....understand." he said softly, unsure if he intended to tell Evie what he really meant. He continued cryptically. "I want to help you because..." Because I couldn't help my mother. He thought, but didn't say. Help the children because I can't go back in time and help myself.

"Because you're kind." She said, with an ironic accent on the word 'kind'.

He nodded, mutely. She moved toward him, sitting close beside him on the couch so that he had to turn his head to look at her.

"When I married Hal, I thought it was an escape...that I would get away from...this. You can't outrun it, can you?"

Bud tilted his head the side, studying her, the bruised side of her face obscured by the lamplight which illunimated her from the side.

"He'll kill me someday."

"No." Bud put his hands on her shoulders.

"He will. Unless I kill him first he-"

"Don't talk."

Her lips were pressed against his own. It had happened so fast that he hadn't seen it coming, and he nearly pulled away in shock, but finally allowed her to proceed. She was warm..inviting...

She pulled away for an instant as she shrugged the robe slid off her shoulders onto the floor, and then her lips returned. Kissing deeply, insitently. Bud pulled away. He wouldn't take her like that. It had to be slow. Soothing...His lips found hers again, more gently the feathery caresses like a pink eraser pushing the thoughts of broken doors and shattered plates away. She was warm, fed, protected. He had saved her.

He started as he felt her hands tugging at his shirt.

"What are you doing?" He snapped, straightening up.

She frowned. "I thought you..." She crossed her arms across her chest and blushed.

At last Bud understood. She assumed he expected her to pay him back after all.

"That's not what I want." He said evenly, reaching for the robe and drawing it around her shoulders.

She would not meet his eyes. "You must think I'm-" she mumbled, her voice thick with shame.

"I think you're afraid." He said, kissing her forehead tenderly. "I think you're alone." Another kiss. "I think you've never known a man who didn't want to hurt you." He gathered her into his arms. "I don't want to hurt you Evie."

"What do you want, Bud White."

"To protect you....even if its just for tonight."

Epilogue

Bud held Evie all night. Arriving at the station house the next morning, he learned that Hal Vaughn had been released on his own recognizance.

The house was empty.

He never saw Evie again.