See disclaimers.

The light flickered on, and the splash of water hit like an ice-cold shower. A pair of powerful arms pulled back the thick substance as the figure pulled through the lane like it was on fire. Three quick turns later, a pair of lungs were gasping for air and a pair of bright blue eyes was looking at a giant digital clock.

--Four minutes,-- Rick said, signing. –That's not bad.—

Landon grinned. –I can do better.—

--Not too much at once,-- the coach warned. –You've still got class to teach later today.—

A mop of dark hair shook as Landon nodded. His schedule had certainly become busier since he'd returned to Campbell, what with taking over two of Rick's beginning swim classes. Between that and his own studies and practice, there was little time for anything other than sleep.

--A couple more rounds in the pool and you should be good,-- Rick told him. –You've been working hard in class.—

--And how. Poor Elise can't manage to keep herself afloat…--

--But she tries, and that's what counts. It's not all about winning.—

--This is true,-- Landon agreed.

Rick smiled. –I'm heading home. Tomorrow's another day.—

--PT in the morning?—

--Yes.-- Rick made a face. He'd made a lot of progress in six months, and though he still had some range of motion issues, his hand was capable of basic sign and his arm could lift a small bag of flour, which was an improvement.

--It'll get better.—

--That's what they tell me. I just wish I didn't have to go into D.C. to do it.—

--The drive?—

--No one signs.—

--Can't have it all, Rick. I'm surprised they don't let you train down here.—

--Issues with those nerves still. They want to monitor my progress, perhaps schedule me for some surgery…--

--Not again…"

--It would be the last one. If it doesn't work, I give up. I can talk, I can hold a pencil, I can open a door. I'm happy.—

--Okay then,-- Landon said as Rick headed for the office door. –Good luck.—

--You too. Your class today should be interesting…--

--Why? Someone add?—

--Did you see the snow on the ground? Nearly a foot, and more tonight besides.—

Landon made a face. He hated snow, except on Christmas. It was hard to believe it had been six months since the events in Idaho, when the sun had been shining and the weather perfect. He began walking over towards the dressing rooms, where he kept his towel and an extra hair dryer so that he didn't catch cold from a wet head.

After the shower, Landon reached for his shirt and pulled it over his head. His jeans were already laid out, and in less than a minute he was working a weathered brush through his thick hair, hoping he could squeeze in just a little time to go over to Cam and Joe's place for dinner. Picking up his phone, he sent a message to his brother telling him to meet him at the Stackhouse in twenty minutes.

Landon put his hair dryer away and locked up his things. Two hours, he thought. Just enough time to fight the snow…

---

--You put any more sauce on that steak and it'll be swimming instead of you,-- Kyle said as Landon helped himself to more steak sauce.

--Oh, shut it. Your French fries are doing a great Esther Williams number there…--

--Touche,-- Kyle admitted in defeat.

--Of course, you'll be having pie?—Joseph Stackhouse said, coming over to refill the Parkers' drinks. –Cam made some pumpkin pie this morning that's out of this world.—

--None for me, thanks,-- Landon said. –Got a class to teach in…thirty minutes.—

--I'll have some, Joe. Whipped cream, please.—

--I would expect nothing less from you. You, I'll send some along. Lord knows you'll need it after tonight…--

--He does know he'll be out of business, he keeps giving food away, right?—Landon asked, waiting until Joseph had gone into the kitchen.

--Why we 'lose' at euchre a lot,-- Kyle said conspiratorially. –That and we pay Cam whenever we can.—

--One's trying to give it all away, one's working to keep it. How do they…--

--Some things it's best not to ask.—

Landon raised his glass to that, and took another long pull on his Coke. –Where're Chase and Oliver?—

--Oliver's home hiding from the snow. Chase is in Washington.—

--Why is she…?—

--Working on trial prep. You're gonna have to make some time too, you know.—

--I've been trying not to think about it.—

Kyle gave his little brother a sympathetic look. –I know it's hard, but you want him locked up, right?—

--And toss out the key.-- The fire that sparkled in Landon's eyes was obvious.

--Then it has to be done. Mo will go over everything the prosecutor will have to say, and Josh and Agent Hotchner will walk you through what to expect from Carlyle's lawyer. Just remember that he can't hurt you, and to leave absolutely nothing out.—

--That what they told you?—

--Yep. And it worked.—

--Let's hope it does this time too. I don't want to be looking over my shoulder the rest of my life.—

--You won't.-- There was something about the way Kyle looked as he said that that made Landon both curious and yet not want to know. –Hey, don't you have a class?—

Landon looked at his watch. –Christ!—he said. –Gotta run, drop the pie by the pool later?—

--Yeah, I can manage that,-- Kyle said with a small smile. –And good luck.—

---

--Sorry I'm late,-- Landon signed, hurrying out onto the pool deck. –Had some dinner, then the snow…--

--"Yeah, what's with that, anyway? Almost Christmas and it's freezing…"—

Landon looked at the pair of feet his eyes were focused on. They were familiar somehow…

--Do I know you?—

"Kind of. But use your voice, okay? I'm still not all that good at his signing thing yet.."

Landon's eyes met with the person's face. "Eamon?!" he cried. "You're taking a beginner's class?!"

"Hardly. I came to see if I could interview for a job."

"What?" Landon was more than confused. "You…want a job?"

"Well, your coach is still out sick," the Australian reasoned. "And I decided I needed a change of pace from competing."

--"You gave up swimming?"—

"Competing. I gave up competing…isn't there a sign for that?"

Smiling, Landon showed it to him.

"And besides, I need a real job. I can train and get better here as well as in Perth or anywhere else…

--"I don't know,"-- Landon began, hoping his voice was reasonable. --"There's a hiring committee, and then you'd have to go through some hoops…"--

"I'll volunteer then. I just want to get out of the spotlight."

--"How've you been?"-- Landon asked, realizing that this was what everyone had been hinting at all day.

"Spent three months at home with my mum and dad, either pissed as hell that I let Michael get the better of us or afraid of walking out the house. After awhile, it got easier, but still there's times I think I'm chained to that rock wall again."

--"I know what you mean. I've woken up a few times, and once my friend Oliver said I was screaming. My throat was sore, but…"--

"I hear your bloke's going to be tried," Eamon said.

--"Yeah, in a couple months. I'm scared, and yet almost ready for it."--

"They're still trying to figure out how to try Michael—here in America or in Australia."

--"I thought he'd be tried here, seeing as here is where it happened."--

"Yeah, but then there's some issue of citizenship," Eamon said. "He's moving to be tried in Oz, seeing as he and I are both citizens there…"

--"Jurisdiction, though, would say he gets tried here—federally, at least."--

"I don't know. That's one for the barristers to sort out."

Landon had trouble with the word 'barrister.' When he read it, it looked like 'banister.' --"Why would a banister have anything to do with it?"—

"Barrister," Eamon said again, enunciating as he spoke. "Americans call them lawyers."

--"Oh. Not my fault you speak funny."--

Eamon's eyes widened in mirth. "You people speak with your hands, and I speak funny?"

--Come on,-- Landon signed. –You've got a lot to learn if you're going to fit in in this place.-- With that, he jumped into the water, Eamon following close behind. –Race you…--

And that's the end, folks. Hope you've enjoyed this installment, as I've certainly liked bringing the reign of the Silver Spring people to a close. Stay tuned for my next story, coming only to Fiction Press (the team's getting a well-deserved break!) featuring the Campbell bunch. What really happened to Ben Rothschild? And who's responsible for his murder? Only Chase and the guys can find out...