Mel's back stiffened and she halted, brush poised on the downstroke. Exhaling audibly, with deliberation she placed the brush across the top of the open paint can and turned to face the speaker. Her face was a mask of polite detachment and she struggled for the matching tone of voice. "Well," she said, taking in the unexpected arrival of Janice Covington. "This is a surprise." Non-committal. Neither good nor bad. Just a surprise.

Janice shuffled and squashed the brim of her fedora against her thigh. "You look good, Mel." Oversized, paint-stained coveralls, long hair pulled back in paisley scarf, cateye glasses on the bridge of a nose daubed with black paint - she looked incredibly good to Janice.

Mel stopped just short of returning the compliment, so ingrained were her Southern good manners. "Well, Janice Covington," she drawled with forced nonchalance. "What brings you to my door?"

Alice piped in, "Dr. Covington's in charge of the Kakadu dig, the one you turned down."

Janice shrugged and interjected, "Professor Moffat said I wasn't the university's first choice."

Mel approached, wiping her hands on a scrap of cloth. "Alice, run ahead and put the billy on." She moved her gaze to Janice. "You'll stay to tea?"

"Billy? Tea? You've gone bush, Mel," quipped Janice with genuine amusement.

"I've adapted, Janice. I hope you don't mind tea. Coffee's in short supply these days," replied Mel.

"Tea'll be fine," Janice conceded with a nod, even as Alice hurried out of the hangar at a trot. Alone at last, the pair could speak freely. "It's been a long time, Mel...how've you been?"

"I've been busy. Jack wants to start a charter business when he's discharged so I've been--"

"I meant personally," interjected Janice. "How are you?"

"I'm a mess," Mel replied abruptly, making a preliminary swipe at the paint on her fingers. "I need to wash up."

"You look fine to me...except..." Janice took the cloth from Mel's hands, folded it to find a clean edge and wiped the smudge of paint from the end of Mel's nose. "There." She smiled and returned the cloth to Mel's hand. "All beautiful again."

Flustered, Mel's full lips parted to retort. "I...you..." she studied the paint-stained cloth, avoiding the other's gaze. "Thank you."

Janice grinned, enjoying Mel's predicament; the brunette was seldom at a loss for words. "This is where you're supposed to say, ‘you look good, too, Janice.'"

Mel looked up and regarded Janice coolly as they stepped from the hangar into the dazzling late afternoon sunshine "You've lost weight."

"Huh?"

Mel elaborated with an abrupt gesture to Janice's hips. "The pistol and the whip."

"Will I need them?" Janice retorted playfully.

Mel squinted at the teenager bounding down the front steps of the house. "I don't want them where Alice can get at them."

"Relax, Mel," replied Janice, following her gaze. "They're in a locked strongbox in the cockpit and I have the only key."

"I put the billy on," said Alice as she joined them. "Want me to put out the lemon biscuits Dad sent from Singapore last month? I was saving them for a special occasion."

Janice clapped the teen on the shoulder. "I'm flattered."

Alice beamed with appreciation. "Suppose I could get a look inside the Electra after tea?"

Janice looked sidelong at an ambivalent Mel. "If it's all right with Mel, I don't see why not. Mel?"

Mel directed her gaze at Alice. "You tend to that horse of yours before he drops of the heat and I'll consider it."

Alice clucked her tongue. "No worries, Mel," she said, backpedaling towards the paddock. "Be in to tea in a few minutes."

"She's a good kid," Janice said once Alice was out of earshot.

"She's better than good," Mel replied, steering Janice towards the house. "She's her father's daughter."

"They're pretty close, huh."

"So close there isn't room for me between them," Mel muttered.

Janice sensed that there was real hurt behind the disclosure; she was primed to notice everything. She decided to spare Mel her observations and pushed the hat back on her head, gesturing broadly towards the resting Electra at the same time. There was more than a hint of maternal pride in the entreaty, "Whatta ya think of her?" Mel put her hands on her hips and idly appraised the aircraft. Its nicked and pitted props, balding tires, and worn aluminum fuselage spoke of thousands of hours of wear and tear. "I won it in a poker game a couple of months back." She patted the aluminum skin. "Nice, huh?"

Mel looked sideways at her ex-partner and sighed. "As if your life isn't dangerous enough, Janice Covington, you have to rise up to meet God halfway."

"Mel," quipped Janice, nudging her gently in the ribs, "Believe it or not, standing here next to you is the most dangerous thing I've done in months."

Mel's smile dissolved into a flat line. "Don't do that, Janice."

"Do what?"

Mel folded her arms. "Don't be charming," she warned, turning for the house.

Janice shrugged, tossed her jacket over one shoulder and muttered at Mel's retreating form, "Well...shit." She caught up with Mel on the steps. Conjuring up the right note of firm, yet injured dignity, Janice said, "Hold it right there."

Mel froze on the spot, her back to Janice and her hand on the iron door knob. "What?" she inquired, her tone unmistakably hostile.

"Look, sweetheart," Janice began, her voice oozing sarcasm. "I came a long way to see you, the least you can do is pretend you're flattered." She swept the hat from her head and wiped her brow against the back of the same hand. "All I'm asking for is a little civility." She paused before adding, "You owe me that."

Mel didn't argue the point; her downcast eyes held a mixture of guilt and regret. "You're right," she said at last, regarding her guest. "I apologize."

Janice tilted her head slightly, gauging Mel's sincerity. It didn't surprise her that the apology, wrung from a gentle woman under duress, smacked of indifference. Janice didn't care. If it bought her time with Mel, she simply didn't care.