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The therapy started in the wee hours of that Monday morning as a cab took Cheryl and Cal to their apartment. Actually, a lot of good was already done on the plane flight. All of the parents and Genevieve had reinforced over and over how Cheryl had just done what she had to to protect Cal and herself.

In her rational mind, she knew that if she had not used deadly force, she and perhaps Cal could easily have been shot. Even as strong as she was, engaging in a non-lethal hand-to-hand fight with the armed man was a risk she was not morally required to take when she was the intended victim.

It was Genevieve who, unbelievably with a tear in her eye, told Cheryl that she was certain Penelope intended to kill the four of them herself. "I do not know if she could have gone through with it, but I am sure that is what she had planned. In her mind, you were murderers, and she was obsessed with Greg beyond any reasonable motherly love. We had been warned of that by her therapists even before Greg was killed."

Having viewed herself as a healer since she was old enough to think about her future, taking a life was particularly hard on Cheryl. She needed Julia, but that was not possible because of Julia's obligation to report the death. Several times, people tried to tell Cheryl that she could not be sure that she had killed the man, but she knew in her heart that she had. Cal had too much respect for her to even mention the possibility that the man had survived.

One result of the long flight and all of the conversation was a weariness that allowed her to fall asleep instantly when they reached their own bed. She was pressed against Cal as tightly as was possible while still managing to breath.

Perhaps fortunately for him, Cal was so concerned about Cheryl's reaction that he was able to put the man he had run over out of his mind. A few times, he chided himself for becoming so blase about the killing, but he knew that was not really the issue. The news that four bodies had come out of the clinic eased his mind somewhat. After failing, those men were doomed anyway.

Much as he hated to do it, Cal roused Cheryl in time for her first class, which was mid-morning. Although they had not talked about it, both seemed determined to resume their normal lives as seamlessly as possible. For Cal, 'normal' was far from any accepted definition. The basketball coach had actually moved practice an hour later than usual so Cal could attend both practices. Until the bowl game was done, he would not even think of daily workouts.

Although she had verbally dismissed the problem of Penelope's family, Genevieve was very worried about it. She had no right to commit or incarcerate her daughter-in-law the way she had. Time to call in the lawyers. Why was it always time to call in the lawyers?

Without much sleep and far below her usual grooming standards, Genevieve addressed her main personal lawyer. "Find the most reasonable of Penelope's parents' lawyers and bring them here, please."

When the requested lawyer was brought to her place after lunch, Genevieve looked very much more her usual regal self. Before saying anything else, she handed the new lawyer a check. "Now you are my lawyer, agreed?"

Caught off balance, the woman needed a while to consider her action. If she was not involved in any adversarial action between Genevieve and any other clients, nothing prevented her from accepting Genevieve as a new client.

"Endorse the check, please," Genevieve said when the lawyer had nodded her acceptance.

"Now you are required to hold in confidence what I tell you next. I may at some point instruct you to reveal some of what you will hear to someone in my daughter-in-law's family. That will only happen if you are unable to convince them not to interfere in something I have done to Penelope. After you hear the story, I am quite certain that trying to convince them will not be a problem for you. It will be better for all of us if they know no details."

For the next hour, Genevieve told the whole story to the two lawyers. When she finished, Genevieve asked her new lawyer "Are you convinced that it is in your other clients' best interests not to intervene in the matter of Penelope's treatment."

"Absolutely. I have to tell you, though, that I fear this whole arrangement flirts with the definition of conflict of interest."

"No doubt," Genevieve replied. "Yet, I believe I and your other clients share a serious common interest here, concerning Penelope. Will you do your best to convince them not to intervene just on your advice?"

"I'll do what I can."

Her teammates quickly detected a different mood from Cheryl, but attributed it to the loss of her father. She was always focused and intense on the court, but that day she was even more so, and she was not as open and communicative with the others.

In the locker room afterwards, Maddie sat beside her and gave her a little hug. "I know you and your dad had lots of problems between you, but it still must be hard."

That sincere attempt at comfort by her new closest friend caused Cheryl to make a decision. This was not a secret that she could live with alone. Even though Cal and the parents knew about it, only Cal was there at school. It was going to be a barrier between herself and people she had become close to. More than ever before she realized how she had come to depend on a group of special friends. The thought of being cut off from them in any way was frightening to her.

Because of Cal's dual practices, by the time he got home, she informed him that the whole 'gang' would be over in an hour, and why. He was rather upset that she wanted to spread such dangerous news around to so many people, but the last thing he wanted to do was allow what Penelope had done to drive any kind of a wedge between them.

Cheryl, of course, could read Cal's reaction perfectly despite his best attempt to hide it. With an almost frantic hug, she told him "Honey, I'm sorry, but I'm not like you. I need a lot more support from people. It will kill me if I feel separated from Maddie and Sharon and Claire and Robin and the others by what I had to do.

"I know you felt that separation, that isolation years ago. I finally have an understanding of what you went through - and while you were so young! Sweetheart, I just can't handle it like you have. I need the people I'm close to sharing it with me."

That really made Cal think. It was a bit of a shock to realize how well she understood him and how he had dealt with having killed. He also realized that he should not expect her to take the warrior way like he had. She was not a warrior at heart, despite her competitive spirit. She was an instinctive healer.

The fact that it was virtually impossible for anyone to verify, to prove with evidence what had happened that afternoon made it easier to tell the group. Knowing that not one of them would ever betray such a dangerous secret was something else that he was sure about.

It was interesting and gratifying for him to watch. After the telling and a lot of talking and hugging afterwards, he could see that Cheryl had been right to tell their friends. It was remarkable to see how the others seemed to pull much of the anguish and shock right out of her.

It was far, far different from the way Cal dealt with things. But then, the wonderful combination of their similarities and their differences was what made their bond so strong. In the end, it was worth whatever little risk there was to see visual assurance that his lover would heal more quickly.

The last of their good friends were barely in their cars when Cheryl dragged him to the bathroom and began pulling his clothes off. "Don't you have some studying?" he tried to joke, but she seemed not to have heard.

At first, he wondered if another of her sexual frenzies was about to be unleashed. Before, they had followed times of incredible stress. From the almost disconnected way that she was undressing him and then herself, he was expecting the same kind of behavior as the other times.

Before, though, taking time to shower first would have been impossible. Before, the tenderness she was displaying as they washed each other would have instead been frantic clutching and groping. No, this would not be another frenzy. There was no doubt, though, that she had a definite, very strong need.

Her need was sexual, but sex with a purpose. The purpose was not just tension and anxiety release, although she did need that. The purpose in her mind was to celebrate a new level of closeness between them.

In bed, she asked him to get on his back and she worked herself down onto him. Instead of 'riding' him as she often did, however, she laid forward on top of him and spread her legs out wide. Without thinking, he raised his knees between her legs to prevent himself from falling out of her. As if by careful planning, one or the other would periodically make some rather small, rhythmic motions to keep up the arousal. Then, she started to talk.

Because of his early defensive use of silence in the face of an upset or excited female, Cal had had numerous chances to observe. He had learned a lesson that many men did not learn until later in life, if at all. Women had a need to talk, and talk a lot. It was a true act of love to sometimes just listen. Cal knew he was in for a time of listening. With his lover's wonderful body stretched atop him and with his cock buried in its ultimate home, it was no sacrifice at all on his part.

"Cal, I've always prided myself that I knew and understood you. You know, I could be a psychiatrist - even Julia says so. I have to tell you, I really had no idea!

"You know what has been going through my mind ever since the impact started to hit me? I have been thinking about what you have had to live with for over four years. Mmmm." Cal had chosen that moment for a few upward thrusts of his hips and she reacted verbally to the stimulation.

"I guess it is fortunate for the human race that killing affects us the way it does. If it didn't, we would all be sociopaths, like Penelope. I believe Greg inherited that from her, as well. He had absolutely no respect or consideration for anyone else - they just didn't matter to him. I tell you, that woman's obsession with her son..."

It was easy for Cal to just listen for many more minutes. He felt privileged to be exposed to a mind like hers. He was honored that she would share her analytical thinking and her clear, lucid expression of her thoughts with him. He appreciated the respect and love she showed by never 'talking down' to him, even though they both knew that he was not in her league intellectually. And to bless him with her wonderful body at the same time - he could listen all night.

Too soon, from Cal's viewpoint, her monologue wound down. As soon as he felt that her silence was more than to catch her breath, he asked "How much do you think you will be affected. Will the guilt cause you any problems?"

"I don't want this to sound, um, harsh," she answered, "but I don't think there will be much guilt. We human-type females are not so different from females of other species. When it comes to protecting our offspring, nothing is really wrong. It's like there is a higher morality that supersedes every other consideration. For us human women, our mates are included in that moral umbrella. You were in danger of being killed. Nothing I did to prevent that could possibly be wrong. It's the way I'm wired."

"And you can just convince yourself that way?"

"No convincing needed. I've been going over and over my feelings, and at first it shocked me that what I thought was guilt really wasn't. I learned a lot in that anthro' class and some stuff came back to me. It helped a lot."

"Are you saying there won't be any aftereffects?" he asked incredulously.

"Oh, there certainly will. Remember what I said about that natural aversion to killing, at least in healthy people. Being intelligent, we understand how precious life is. Taking life away from another person has to affect us. I suspect you will have to hold me through some nightmares. Will it mess up my studies or my play? I really don't think so, except maybe for a few days.

"Oh, thank you again for letting me tell our friends. It really helped," she added.

"I could tell. I could almost see you easing up as the time went on," he told her. "It's so different from how I would want to handle things."

"I don't think it is so different. You wanted to share, too. It's just that you only wanted to share with fellow warriors, men who had experienced the same things. I know you had to make yourself share with your dad. It was a loving thing to do. Me, I wanted - no, I needed to share with the people closest to me."

"Well, there were some warriors in the group, you know - Bert, Bud, and Bud's dad. Not that they weren't all a little in love with you already, but now they think of you as one of them."

"Don't be offended, but that is not a big goal in my life - to be welcomed as a fellow warrior. Just one of the differences we can argue about."

"Well, I know some differences that we can't argue about. How about we spend some time exploring those difference?" Cal emphasized that question with some stronger upward thrusts of his hips. She responded with an intense kiss, signaling the end of talking time.

For all of her brilliance and competitiveness, Cheryl was all woman - a very sexual woman. They had a number of intimate positions that they enjoyed, but at times of unusual significance, which this certainly was, she wanted to be taken. She wanted Cal to be the aggressor. Often, doggy style fulfilled that desire. At that moment, though, Cal did not want to give up the intimacy of the full body contact they had been experiencing.

Using a good deal of his strength, he rolled them over so he was on top. Just the symbolism of his taking control accelerated her arousal instantly. It was like she had been awaiting detonation and he had provided the signal. By his second stroke, she already had the rhythm and returned his thrusts eagerly.

This was one of those times of exceptional challenge to a considerate male lover, and Cal definitely wanted to be that. This session was for her benefit, without question. The problem was, he had not yet come. On top of that, he had been subjected to moderate but extended stimulation all the time they had been talking. He could feel his urgency quite strongly.

It was not the first time he had been forced to use every known technique to keep his arousal in check. There were football games to review in detail in his mind. And basketball games. And the cemetery attack - no! He couldn't go there. It always ended with the image of Cheryl taking out the man with the gun - to protect him. It was not the way to keep a lid on his arousal.

Unaware of how long it had been, his attempts to rein in his arousal were interrupted by unmistakable signs that Cheryl was on the home stretch. Her rhythm was breaking up, her breathing was erratic, each breath was accompanied by a whimper, and her clutching at his ass had become spasmodic.

At that point, Cal knew that he no longer needed any tricks to hold himself off. He could make it to her completion with his own control. He immediately went into high gear, stroking in and out with all of the speed he could muster. It took less than a minute before she was taking him along into orgasm.

"Thank you!" she said weakly while still trying to catch her breath.

"Oh, I enjoyed it just as much as you did."

"No, I mean thank you for holding off so long. I don't know how you did it. I didn't even get you off first." By this time he should have known that there were no sexual secrets from her, but her perceptiveness did startle him.

"My pleasure," he told her. "Want to go again."

"Mmmmmm!"

It was impossible not to be changed by a traumatic experience like the kidnap attempt. Because Cal had been through it before, his change was minor. It was a kind of resignation, even a touch of despair, that 'it' would never be over. There was a fear that perhaps he was doomed to a life of fighting off attacks on those he loved.

Cheryl, even amidst her own challenge of surviving the aftermath, had one big worry about Cal. Tuesday night in bed, she asked him "Honey, football and basketball don't seem any less significant now, do they?"

The question surprised him but reminded him what a brilliant, perceptive, compassionate lover he had. "Less significant? No, I really don't think so. It's strange. This is not like any of the other times. After the way we've talked over the last months, I really am feeling justified in concentrating on my sports and putting everything into them.

"Sunday seems like... like an attempted interruption that failed. It honestly hasn't made me question this 'new life' I'm in. I think worrying about how it would affect you has kept me from dwelling on it, too."

"Well, that's another way we've helped each other, then. So, for your first time on TV tomorrow night, you'll be able to go all out?"

"The TV doesn't matter. It's winning that matters!" They would be one of the regional games for a national sports network, so they would play Wednesday night rather than the normal Tuesday night schedule.

Actually, the TV game was not the big news to Cal. It was another away game, and on the flight, the coach again asked Cal to sit by him for a while. "How many years will you stay in school?" the coach asked as soon as Cal was seated.

"Well, I've worked it out to graduate in three," Cal answered, "but that plan was before I was playing two sports."

"I don't think even Cheryl could pull that off," the coach said, then laughed when Cal looked at him in surprise. "I believe in knowing a lot about my players. I know what you're thinking. How come I didn't suspect those two might flunk out? Well, their grades and scores were OK coming in. I can't predict who will give in to all the temptations of college life for a sports star.

"I also think I understand why you don't seem to show any nerves in a tight game. It must all seem pretty trivial after what you've been through."

Cal almost panicked until he realized the coach was referring to the incidents involving Greg, and probably THE DAY. The coach could not have known about the cemetery attack. "I never consider competition trivial," was all he could think to say.

"Oh, I didn't mean to imply that. I meant that the worst that could happen is nothing compared to coming face to face with death," the coach backpedaled. "In case you're wondering, I know all about Cheryl's run in with Pat. It was one of my regrettable weak moments when I didn't withdraw the scholarship. Since there was no legal action..."

"I see you've been giving him every chance to show that he gets it," Cal observed.

"Right. Well, I didn't ask you up here to talk about Pat. If the NFL calls after next year, will you go? Cheryl will have graduated. Will there be anything to keep you here?"

"I'm not on scholarship. My dad's paying for it. I feel honor bound to complete my degree."

"The scholarship situation will change. I guarantee it. If Cheryl stays here for med school, would you play four years?"

"I expect so. Why the interest in my plans?"

"I've told you more than I think I ever told a player before. I mean about our lack of progress. I've also talked a lot to my boss, the AD. We play the same style as every other team in the conference. We are not winning many recruiting battles. The boss and I agree that maybe it's time to change. He's really impressed with the crowd reaction to some of the, uh, flashier plays that you've started.

"Watching you, I get the impression that you can steal the ball from a dribbler just about any time you decide to."

"Oh, I'm not that quick," Cal objected, though pleased at the compliment.

"Quick enough, but your anticipation is spooky. Must be all the martial arts. Anyway, I would like to start practicing a sort of 'box and one'. We'll keep playing the way we are until the conference games start after Christmas. Then, we'll try to change into an opportunistic fast-breaking team."

"What about the concerns you mentioned earlier about depth?"

"I have no illusions that we will win the conference this year, although I think we can surprise some people. What I really want to do is change our image so I have a stronger hand recruiting. If you stick around for three or four years, I think you have a chance at a conference title and a tournament bid."

"Wow!" Cal exclaimed. "That's quite a change in your thinking!"

"I like my job. My wife and I both like this town. I never disliked an up-tempo game. It just doesn't seem to be the way it's played nowadays. If I want to stay here, I have to improve our record. It's as simple as that."

"Cheryl and I have talked about it quite a bit lately," Cal said. "You know she's the one who talked me into playing, don't you?"

"I assumed that."

"Well, where she goes to med school will have a big affect on my decision. If she goes somewhere else, which seems likely, I'll decide at the end of next year. If it looks like I can finish in one more year, I'll stick it out for the third year. If not, I'll see if there's any real interest from the NFL. That's as honest as I can be with you."

"I appreciate that. I guess it's a 'hope for the best, expect the worst' deal," the coach said. "About Pat. Thank you for not showing any reluctance to pass to him. So far, he has not shown the same maturity. It's sad, you know. He has great physical skills, but he hardly seems to realize that he has teammates on the floor with him."

"When I decided to come out, it did not depend on Pat's presence or absence," Cal declared. "Cheryl told me her best revenge would be if I beat Pat out or a job."

"Hmmmph," the coach snorted. "Pat pissed off the wrong girl, didn't he?"

"You have no idea," Cal assured him.

"I'm going to start Pat at point guard Saturday and play him most of the game, unless we're in trouble. It's sort of his final exam. I need to know if he can play a decent point without you on the floor. If his problem with distributing the ball is just because of you, we can deal with it separately. If not? Well, I don't know if I want to invest a year or two trying to make a spoiled kid grow up."

Cal was a little down after coach's announcement about starting Pat. It was not jealousy because he knew that he would be starting on a permanent basis. He would be cutting it close to see the first Final Four match for no reason. As he thought about it, he realized that was not true. He had a very good reason: he was a member of a team and he had the obligation to be there. Cheryl would tell him the same thing.

The game they were flying to was expected to be another warmup win for a team with an early-season ranking. Cal had been feeling it in practice, but when he stepped onto the floor for warmups, he really noticed it - he felt unmistakably different. It was nothing physical, but mental and emotional.

Impending competition always got his juices going, but that night he felt an eagerness he had never experienced before. As he took warmup shots, the ball felt different. In layup drills, he seemed able to reach higher toward the rim. Practice free throws seemed like reaching out and dropping the ball in the basket. He had been 'in the zone' before, but this was not the same.

It was clear from the first minute of play that Cal would have to play a key role in the game. The opponents were big and they played classic muscle ball. After getting the opening tip, the opposition scored and fell back quickly on defense. Cal started off with the isolation play to Buck on their first possession. Buck was cut off before he could get a clear path to the basket.

On the first three possessions, Cal worked the ball inside, but the defense was smothering and they got no points out of it. The coach called time. "Banner, just shoot it if it comes back out. In fact, every few possession, don't even pass it inside. Look for a screen and get free for a trey.

"These guys will just camp in the middle if we don't give them something to worry about from outside. Buck, Ryan, Del - when you get the ball, look for a drive, otherwise kick it back out to Cal. With their size and defense, you won't be getting many short jumpers."

That strategy would have been Cal's choice but he was very conscious of keeping the rest of the team involved. He would not aggressively look for shots except as ordered by the coach. He had his orders.

For the rest of the half, the score stayed close, largely because Cal was hitting most of his threes. Early in the third quarter, Cal's team moved ahead by five and the coach put Pat in at point, moving Cal to the other guard position. In the seven minutes Pat had control, Cal got only one shot and the team fell back to a six point deficit. Cal managed two steals or it might have been worse.

The defense had loosened up, and when Pat sat down, Cal was able to mix his long shots with several inside plays. With three minutes to go, on a time out, Cal made an unaccustomed appeal.

"Guys, I'm damned sick of moral victories. I know we're all pretty tired, but we can take these guys. I promise you, if we just find something extra for a few more minutes, it will be a game you will never forget."

It started on the next defensive sequence. An opposing forward broke toward the basket for a layup. Ryan pulled off of his man and with a superhuman leap, he blocked the shot hard from behind, slamming it against the backboard. Buck was there for the rebound and snapped a pass out to Cal.

Cal took time for a quick look back as he raced up the floor and saw that it was Ryan right behind him. Cal was very much against showboat play of any kind, but sometimes... He was clear for the layup, but instead he put it straight up on the backboard, to the side of the basket. It was definitely a risk, but Ryan read it perfectly and rammed it home.

That sequence was a classic game-breaker. Even though they were still two points down, Cal's team suddenly had the psychological edge. Coming back up court, Cal knew that a quick defensive stop and a score to tie it could break the other team's confidence.

The point guard looked angry and determined. That meant he was a little tight and might get careless with the ball. Sure enough, Cal saw an opening and stole the dribble. This time, it was Buck beating everyone up court and Cal got him the ball for another slam.

The other team missed their next shot and instead of pushing upcourt, Cal made it clear that it was time to kill the clock. The ball went inside twice and back out to Cal before he hit a three with only two seconds left on the shot clock.

The other team scored two, and once again Cal hit a three just before the shot clock buzzer sounded. He was in that wonderful place where he knew it was impossible for him to miss. If they could just avoid a turnover, he would get them three points on every possession.

It turned out he did not have to. After he hit one more, he was smothered by two men the next time down. He was able to get it to the other guard who killed off many seconds before finding Buck open for a layup and a free throw.

The other team had been scoring, but it had been just twos. Ahead by four going into the last minute, Cal and his teammates paraded to the free throw line as the opponents sought desperately to catch up. Cal's confidence rubbed off on the others and the free throws preserved the lead.

The three point victory got a lot of attention in the sports news. Although it had not been Cal's intention, he personally got even more press. He ended up scoring 41 of the teams winning 69 points, mostly on three-pointers and free throws.

Thursday morning, the basketball coach got a visit from Harlan Clancy, Pat's father. "You recruited Pat to be a point guard," Harlan said. "Now, Banner walks in and you give him the job. What's going on?"

"Did you watch the game last night?" the coach asked. Of course, Harlan had. "Well, you saw exactly what's going on. Banner can make the team better. Your son thinks only of scoring."

"But Banner scored 41 points!"

"Only after I told him to shoot every time he was clear."

"Pat hasn't had a chance to do anything like that," Harlan complained.

"I had planned to start him and let him play most of the game on Saturday. The fans might not like it, but I'm sticking with the plan. It's his chance to show that he can be a team player. If he fails, I suggest he take an unrestricted transfer."

"You'd kick him off of the team?"

"I can't take his scholarship away, you know that. But I would warn him that his chances for significant playing time in the next couple of years are pretty slim."

"And if he does well Saturday?"

"If he tries to go out and score 41, he'll fail. If the team does well with him at point, there's still one more test. He has yet to pass the ball to Banner when they're both in. Not even once."

"There's, uh, history between the two."