Melissa

Sitting quietly in the darkened room, Sarah Jo watched over the sleeping Melissa, the events of the day running through her head. Two new doctors who looked just like the original one, a traumatized patient, and a town that was in an uproar - it had been quite a day. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that it been a while since she had last eaten, but she ignored it.

Out in the hall, Dr. Giles Davies wondered if he would ever be able to speak to the lovely patient they'd just helped. He understood why his face was a horror to her, and did not blame her if she continued to scream whenever she saw him, but he also knew he'd never felt like this for anyone in his entire life.

He'd always been a bit of a wanderer when it came to women; he was handsome enough to get as many as he wanted, and he had a decent income, which made him a good catch. But his devil may care attitude - at least about sex - pretty much told all prospective Mrs. Davieses to proceed with caution. He was serious about his job - about science in general, really - but not about settling down. Wasn't it his luck to fall for a woman he could never even speak to, let alone love?

As he passed by the room where Melissa slept, he spotted Sarah Jo sitting in a chair, her hands folded neatly on her lap, keeping watch. The convent training was obvious by the stillness of the nurse. He had never known a nursing sister to fidget or act restlessly. Hearing Giles, Sarah Jo turned her head and smiled at him. "Can I help you, Doctor?" she asked in a soft voice.

He shook his head sadly, his pale green eyes going to the bed every few seconds, then dropping again, furtively, as if being caught doing something he should not have been doing.

Sarah Jo shrugged, then returned to her quiet vigil. Melissa stirred in her sleep, moaning softly, and Sarah Jo went to her side, gently soothing her, telling her that she was safe and that no one was going to hurt her anymore.

Giles stood in the doorway, watching from the shadows. His heart ached. He had not been the one to hurt her, but he felt so guilty. Guilty because he wanted to hold her and kiss away the pain. But his kisses would only *bring* pain!

What was this place, this place of so many similar faces? Was it hell? What had he done to deserve this?

He was about to apologize, under his breath, for ever picking on Kate Marshall, when a noise made him lift his head. "Are you hungry, nurse?" he asked automatically, not thinking of what his voice would do to the patient.

"I'm fine, Doctor," Sarah Jo replied, but her stomach rumbled again at the very mention of food. The sound of Giles' voice drifted through the deep sedation that Melissa was under, and she shuddered, opening her eyes.

"I would sit with her while you ran over to get something to eat," Giles said, "if it weren't detrimental to the poor woman's health. I took an oath, after all, to do no harm . . ."

"I don't think you would hurt anyone," the nurse said softly. Glancing back at the sleeping Melissa, she bit her lip. "I can run grab some bread and cheese and be right back," she said.

He nodded quickly, even too quickly, because it hid a multitude of sins. His guilty secret for one thing, his eagerness for another.

Sarah Jo slipped out, and descending the stairs in a very un-nun like hurry, she dashed out of the clinic and to her house, not wanting to stay gone too long. He took her place in the chair, his heart pounding as he was finally able to be alone with the woman who had captured his heart. He watched her, almost unblinking, and despaired that this would be the closest he would ever get - and then only if she remained sleeping, for the moment she woke and found him there . . .

But didn't she look like an angel doing it? How could anyone abuse such a treasure? He wanted to ride out and take on the savage who'd abused her personally, but the best he'd be able to do, he knew, was kick the nice Methos in the shin while passing him on the streets.

***

Melissa was recovering. Physically at least. The rest would take time. Katherine spent a lot of time with the young girl, just talking and being there for her, giving her counsel and a shoulder to cry on. Kat had been in Melissa's shoes too many times during her lifetime not to understand how the girl was feeling.

The doctors stayed away as much as possible, giving directions to the two women whenever they could. Giles haunted the hallway when he wasn't otherwise engaged, and while Helm sympathized, he also knew nothing good could come of it. So, he often sent the young doctor out on house calls or errands. Giles thought some of these should have been done by Alex, who was younger and less experienced than himself, but he knew what Robert was trying to do and understood it.

As Sarah Jo was in Melissa's room, changing the sheets while the girl sat in a rocker looking out the window, she heard Helm order Giles to go do something else and she giggled behind her hand. "You have an admirer, I think," she told Melissa.

The young woman flushed. "I just wish," she began, then she let the words trail off. "It is a pleasant voice, but it is difficult for me to hear it," she explained after a long pause.

"Understandably so," the nurse said. "Katherine has the same problem. I don't know if she told you, but the man she loved for over 400 years is gone. And there are two men here with his face and voice. One is the priest, and the other is that sweet man named Gideon who brought you the bouquet of flowers.

She looked at the flowers and smiled. "He is a sweet man," she said. Then she looked at the nurse. "I know you are trying to tell me that none of these men are the person who. . . . well, that they are all different people. I know that. The doctors have helped me, not hurt me. But it is difficult to put such a distinctive voice from my memory."

"Would it help if he suddenly developed severe laryngitis?" Sarah Jo said jokingly.

"I might at least be able to speak to him that way, as long as I didn't look at him."

"How about a fake mustache, then?" the nurse said as she plumped up the pillow. "I can draw one on with some of the dye that Kat and I are making for the yarn we are spinning."

"Can you change his eyes?" she asked, in a voice so soft and suddenly somber that the nurse had to stop and look at her. Tiny tears were streaming down her face.

"I'm sorry," she said, walking over to her and giving her a hug. "I wish I could make the pain in your heart go away. Giles does too. And Kat, and all the rest of the people in town."

Just then there was a knock. Sarah Jo handed Melissa a clean handkerchief and went to the door, opening it half way so that Melissa would not have to see who it was if it was one of the doctors. "Yes?"

Out in the hall stood two knights, DeBracy and Lancelot. DeBracy spoke first, asking if they might visit with the Lady Melissa, if she was quite decent. "One moment please," Sarah Jo told them, then looked at Melissa for a response.

Her eyes were wide with fear and she sat back in the rocker, saying, "Oh, my God! That voice . . . is there any that is not tainted?"

"Sorry," Sarah Jo said sadly to the men waiting out in the hall.

Lancelot stepped forward. "Please. We need to know what will become of her. She is our . . . treasure. We do not want to lose her."

"Maybe if there was someone who did not remind her of her tormenters?" the nurse suggested.

Lancelot looked at her with big, innocent eyes. He looked like Duncan MacLeod, and as far as she knew, there were no Duncan look-alikes in Sadaam.

"Melissa?" she asked, looking over to the girl. "Does his voice remind you of anyone?"

She looked up, tearfully, and shook her head.

"Come in then," Sarah Jo said, motioning to Lancelot. "You will have to stay out," she told the other knight with a regretful look.

DeBracy looked close to tears, he was so gobsmacked. Lancelot stepped in, bowing. "Lady Melissa. I was sent by the envoys of Camelot to ask you to return to our lands."

She shook her head, lowering her face. "But how can I? How can I go anywhere in this land without finding a face, a voice, that frightens me?"

He got down on one knee. "I will protect you. I pledge my sword to your honor!" She was still in tears.

Sarah Jo, feeling she was at least safe with Lancelot, put up a finger and said she would be right back. They needed to consult Methos on this, but of course, he could not come to the room. She made her way out of the clinic and into the street, wondering where she could find Methos. She spotted Duncan MacLeod, who looked amazingly like the knight that was with Melissa, so she went up to him and asked. He looked the young nursing sister up and down, and then shook his head and smiled. What a waste. She was kinda cute.

"I'll take you to him," he told her.

Methos was not far away. Across the wide dirt street, a man sat on a tall bay. He was dressed elegantly, in a uniform, and Methos was leaning on the horse, speaking up to him. Sarah Jo suddenly felt extremely bashful, even though she had no idea why. "His name is Count Vronsky," Duncan whispered. He then cleared his throat to catch Methos' attention.

The Ancient turned his head. "Yes, MacLeod?" he asked, slightly annoyed. "I am a little busy here, trying to talk the Colonel into not committing suicide."

"It's about Melissa," the nurse said quietly, concern in her eyes at the word suicide.

"Is she all right?" Methos asked. Vronsky merely sat his horse and stared, saying nothing. He looked like Sharpe, but with a fancier uniform and neater hair.

"The knights want her to return to Camelot with them," she explained, glancing shyly at the stern-faced man. But he didn't seem to even know she existed. Sarah Jo supposed, to him, she was just a commoner. She could not know that his high birth meant nothing to him now that he had lost the woman he'd loved, and that he had just offered to ride into Sadaam and take as many of the enemy as he could with him when he died.

Methos looked thoughtful. "Count," he began, "you are a cavalry soldier, are you not?"

Vronsky nodded slightly.

"Then we have need of you. The castle yondah," he said, purposely sounding like Tony Curtis, "needs protection. You are the same rank as Montoya, so I can make you our liaison for Camelot. The welfare of a young woman is at stake."

"She needs someone to be her special protector," Sarah Jo said quietly. "She has been most horribly abused and is terrified of it ever happening again. Everywhere she looks, there are men here in this world wearing the same faces as her attackers!"

Vronsky looked down at the nun. "Do I bear the face of one of her attackers?" he asked. His voice was more refined than Sharpe's, as well.

"No, sir," she said truthfully.

"Then I will go and protect her," he said. Methos seemed to relax. After all, it was better than a Kamikaze Count.

"I'll take you to her then," Sarah Jo offered. She turned, and started to walk back to the clinic, the Count riding beside her. Duncan and Methos watched them go.

"Good save there," Duncan said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "We'll make a good clan chieftain out ye yet!"

"Yeah," Methos sighed, "that solves a few problems. All but what to do about Giles' infatuation, that is. But we can't fix everything." He looked at MacLeod and tried to smile. "Come on, Duncan. Let's waste a bottle of beer each."