5

Hannah tried not to show her impatience as McNamara lay down on the hospital bed. Around her, all of the members of the Oversight Committee crowded into the operating theater, the only room big enough to accommodate everyone and still allow them to watch her, well, "operate." Even Catherine was there, standing behind Hannah, giving her support through her presence if not through physical contact.

Catherine had returned from Star Haven late yesterday afternoon to a flurry of activity involving her company and T-CASS and Thunder City. Yet, she had still taken time to talk to McNamara, after he'd brought Hannah home from the hospital, about his plan to use himself as a subject for Hannah's test this morning.

After a thorough grilling about safety, which McNamara handled with mixture of aplomb and gentle humor, Catherine had agreed to bring Hannah back to the hospital this morning, though she'd had Garrett drive them. No flying with Catherine unless it was an emergency. Hannah's test to see if she had control over her powers didn't qualify as an emergency.

"I'm ready." McNamara nodded at her.

Johnson was there of course, like a shark waiting for chum. "You may proceed."

Hannah kept her growl of aggravation to herself. She'd like to see Johnson try to use that tone with Catherine, but for now, she pulled off a glove and touched McNamara's cheek.

Inside. She headed to his sinuses because all of his external symptoms indicated this was a head cold. She was right. A colony of rhinovirus skittered around, wreaking havoc. McNamara's immune system couldn't keep up with the trouble.

"So, you wanna play rough, huh?"

Hannah glared at the army of rat bastards floating in front of her. Those spiky blobs of overstuffed proteins thought they could run her over, push her around, mess her up real good? Well, they were nothing compared to Miranda Dane, so those slimy good-for-nothing cankers had another think coming.

"Time to separate the pros from the goobs," she shouted to no one but herself. "On the count of three!"

With a mere thought, she summoned an army of reinforcements - white blood cells she could command.

"One...two..."

Leave it to white blood cells to have no respect for a countdown or her authority. They charged past her already knowing how to kill a colony of wimpy rhinoviruses. Hannah assisted the assault by weakening each virus with a well-placed kick to where it hurt the most — the outer membranes.

If only she could kick Johnson where it hurt the most.

The weak viruses died faster with every pass Hannah made through their cluster. Hannah wanted to end this operation so she could take off both of her damn gloves in the outside world. She'd obeyed the letter of the law last night and kept the bulky gloves on even when she was alone, talking to Scott on the televideo in the video room.

They'd talked for hours, mostly venting their frustration about the Committee. They might have talked all night, but Nik had stuck his head into the room looking for Thomas sometime after midnight. Nik's interruption forced her to notice the time, which in turn made her yawn. Scott laughed and told her to go to sleep. She didn't even take the gloves off when she finally crawled into bed.

With the rhinoviruses defeated, Hannah pushed herself into the nearest vein and zipped through the rest of McNamara's body, checking to see if he suffered from anything other than the head cold. She found little to no plaque in the arteries, a healthy liver, strong bones, and just a touch of arthritis in the left hip. She eliminated the arthritis since it wouldn't take too long.

If only she could have Scott by her side. She didn't regret insisting on time to herself yesterday, but even after their phone call, she still woke up missing him. Maybe this was what love was supposed to be: wanting to be with a man who touched her so deeply she could feel his emotions even from across the city.

McNamara shifted on the hospital bed, backwashing her into his stomach. There was nothing else to fix and she didn't want to linger.

She reemerged into her own body still holding McNamara's hand. A small rebellion on her part. The Oversight Committee knew she needed skin-on-kin contact to heal people, but the assembled Committee collectively glared at her anyway.

Tough. The skin-on-skin contact sent shivers of warmth straight to her heart. How could she miss human touch so much when she'd had so little of it in her life? She didn't want to let go, but holding McNamara's hand longer than she had to would creep him out. It wasn't really his hand she wanted to hold.

"Congratulations, Doctor McNamara." She tugged her hand out of his, and forced herself to sound chipper. "You have the body of a healthy forensic pathologist."

He laughed as he sat up on the hospital bed, straightened his collar, and took a deep, deliberate breath.

"I have to say, I haven't had this much verve in three days. It's amazing what a lungful of oxygen can do for you. Thank you, Ms. Quinn. I do believe we have the proof we need to allow you keep the gloves off."

"I object." Johnson looked around at his colleagues. "All she's proven is that she has alternative abilities. She hasn't proven her control."

Hannah mashed her lips closed to keep from spewing a long stream of foul language at Johnson. McNamara swung his legs around to climb off the table. "On the contrary, her performance today coupled with what we've already seen from the video evidence proves she can control herself."

"All she's proven is that she can use her ability for evil. She's hurt more people than she's helped. She needs to be detained for further testing."

"Self-defense is not evil." McNamara made it to his feet, fists balled up ready for a fight.

A hand on Hannah's shoulder backed her away from McNamara. Catherine Blackwood stood there. The look on Catherine's face made it clear that Hannah wasn't to get into the middle of this argument. The angry flame in Hannah's gut flared. Miranda would have done the same thing to keep her quiet, but even as the memory of her ex-mother fed her rebellious thoughts, Hannah knew Catherine was right. No one wanted her opinion here.

"You'll still need a thorough examination." Doctor Rao nudged his way to the front of the Committee so he could take McNamara's pulse. "We've scheduled more blood work and a CT scan to compare against the baseline reports we have on record. We'll need to repeat the lab work we performed yesterday."

"Yes, yes. My body will be at your disposal after I finish my report on the quarry victims with Ms. Quinn's assistance."

McNamara glared at Johnson who glared right back, neither willing to concede the fight. Catherine Blackwood stepped up from behind to hand Hannah an opened bottle of water. Hannah took the water, but only sipped the contents. With a final glare at Hannah, Johnson stormed past her and out the door.

The icy contempt in the air rose a few degrees. The other doctors who'd watched her test said nothing.

"I'll take you home," Catherine said, her hand dropping from Hannah's shoulder to her back, guiding her back toward the hallway.

That was it? Hannah scanned the faces of the Oversight Committee members who passed by her: neurology, ophthalmology, general surgery, orthopedics, pulmonary medicine, and a few others. They chattered to each other in hushed voices, their glances at her fleeting.

Still no official pronouncement. She was free to go. The thick, dark-brown, unfashionable gloves she'd worn for the last week sat on a nearby counter. She decided to leave them there instead of throwing them in the garbage, afraid if she drew attention to them, the Oversight Committee would change their minds and make her put them on again, or worse, try to lock her up again.

With Catherine at her back, Hannah opened the door leading into the hallway of the surgical suite.

Scott stood there, leaning against the opposite wall. Hannah stopped in her tracks, forcing Catherine to stop too. Her hormones spiked her pulse. It didn't take much, just slicked back black hair and gray eyes, squinting with mischief. His own gloved hands held a spray of flowers.

The rest of the world faded away to nothingness. If she were any other girl, she would have run to him, thrown her arms around his wide shoulders and wrapped her legs around his blue-jeaned hips. But she wasn't any other girl and her life wasn't her own. So she stood in the door and waited for him to make the first move.

"Catch!"

Hannah raised her hands as the burst of color flew at her, the flowers dropping into her ungloved hands.

The surprise on Hannah's face filled Scott's heart with affection. She'd caught the bouquet he'd tossed at her without gloves on her hands. She'd passed. The fact that the Committee allowed her to leave the exam room without gloves was all the proof he needed.

Scott curled his own gloved hands into fists, pressing his knuckles into flesh. It would take him longer to get to the point where he could prove his control, but as long as Hannah was staying in Thunder City, he had incentive to stay as well.

Hannah walked up to him, close, but not too close. "They're beautiful."

Her face, more relaxed than he'd seen it since the day he'd met her, gave him hope. Joy glowed from her, a happiness she deserved more than anyone else in this room. How tempting to pick her up, press her against his chest, maybe even give her a quick spin.

He resisted the temptation. The Oversight Committee filed out of the exam room. They spotted him standing so close to her. Johnson tried to approach but Catherine held him back with a sharp word Scott didn't catch. He didn't want to see Johnson or his mother right now.

"No. You're beautiful," he said. "The flowers just enhance what's already there."

Her smile sent shockwaves of desire through his veins. The bruises on her face had faded even more since yesterday. Despite her conservative beige skirt and light blue blouse, she looked as if she could tumble into bed at a moment's notice. He wanted her there, in his bed, more than anything.

He put his hands behind his back and leaned against the wall, hooking his thumbs into his back pockets. See? I'm being good.

Catherine wasn't having any of it. She pushed her way between them. "Cory."

He sighed. His mother's tone of voice, and her insistence on calling him by his birth name, spoke volumes. You're here to cause trouble. You're here to make a point. Congratulations. Now, go home.

Well, maybe he was here to make a point. The Committee had said he and Hannah couldn't have physical contact, but they couldn't legally stop him from speaking to her — yet. The Star Haven Newcomers could still live with their families. Preventing him from seeing Hannah in person was just some sick joke cooked up by Johnson. Some other day he'd have to ask Catherine about it, but he wouldn't do it here with so many people watching them.

He ducked his head, blood pounding in his ears.

If he were smart, he'd leave the hospital. When it came to Hannah, though, the smart thing to do clashed with his heartache. He needed to rebuild, but starting from scratch for the second time in his life — just moving into his father's place downtown reminded him of how much Thunder City didn't want him. Hannah could heal his physical wounds, but she couldn't help him with his loneliness. He needed more than just a loving girlfriend in his life. His resolve to use Hannah as his incentive to stay slipped further away.

"Fine. I'll wait here." He tilted his head toward the doors at the end of the corridor. "You two go on ahead. I have a training session at the Arena later."

Disappointment drooped Hannah's shoulders, as she too lowered her eyes. "I'll call you tonight. We need to talk. McNamara is taking me to the harbor with him."

McNamara again.

Instead of fighting the inevitable, he touched two of his gloved fingers to his lips and blew her a kiss. She did the same, before she followed Catherine, the doctors right behind her, not trusting Scott in slightest.

"Hannah Quinn."

The shout pushed Scott away from the wall. He watched a small woman overburdened by a shirtless toddler in her arms, push her way through the sparse corridor. She stepped in front of Hannah and Catherine, forcing them to stop. "I demand the Blood Surfer examine my child."

Taller than most of the doctors, Scott could see the commotion over their heads. He shoved his way through the knot of white coats as Catherine pushed Hannah behind her. Good. If anyone had a larger stake than Scott in keeping Hannah safe, it was Catherine. No one could threaten his mother and not expect to get knocked on their asses. She created a barrier between Hannah and the woman.

"Hannah is not a doctor," Catherine said. "She cannot use her ability to determine what is wrong with your son. Perhaps some time in the future — "

The woman shoved the child into Catherine's arms, leaving Catherine no choice but to grab hold of the boy. The kid's head lolled to the side, his eyes closed, either asleep or drugged. Hannah stepped back, but not fast enough. Even as Catherine juggled the limp child, the woman reached around Catherine and grabbed Hannah by the arm. With a jerk, she forced Hannah forward, then smacked Hannah's ungloved hand onto the boy's upper body.

"Wait." Scott could see Hannah try to pull away. "I can't — "

This wasn't a random assault by a distraught parent, but a well-planned attack. The woman wore blue surgical gloves so she wouldn't touch Hannah's skin. Scott surged forward. Before he could reach the woman and pull her away from Hannah, the woman swung out and slapped Hannah across the face.

Hannah's shriek of pain was cut short as she disappeared, bloodsurfing inside the boy's body.