Easy As Falling Off A Mike.
by: Angharad
part: 282.

I sat silently in the chair, the one opposite was empty as was the bed. Feeling my knees shaking, I stood up and looked around. The room was empty and the little bathroom attached was equally devoid of human life forms.

My brain unfortunately didn't just snap into action, it was too busy reeling. I could have sworn my car keys were on the side with the flowers, both were gone and so was Stella.

What do I do now? I didn't know. I also didn't know what had happened while I snoozed. Had anything actually happened? I mean had aliens come and taken her by mistake, when they'd meant to take me? Or more mad Russians, who hadn't noticed me snoring away in the chair because I become invisible when I close my eyes - well it worked for a black cat I knew, who once he closed his eyes in the dark, he disappeared.

I decided I would wait for two more minutes and if an explanation didn't materialise, I'd leave after enquiring where my little buddy had gone. If she'd taken my car, I would personally hunt her down and kill her, apart from that I felt fine. I yawned and then a few moments later had to blow my nose.

The two minutes were up, could I risk another two? The dilemma was, if there was nothing wrong, I'd look a complete berk, if there was something wrong, I would look a complete berk. No change there then! I wasn't usually indecisive, or was I, erm...

Two more minutes had ticked by, I had to do something apart from yawn, damn, I had to blow my nose again. I put the tissue back in my pocket and nearly dropped my keys.

Stunned for a moment, I put my hand back in my pocket and sure enough, there were my keys. How could I have missed them? Stupidity? Sleepiness? God knows, but at least I could get home.

I checked the chair in which Stella had been sleeping, it was still empty, so it wasn't some form of time distortion I'd fallen through. Goodness, I'm sounding like a background character in Dr Who.

Turning to the door, I was about to pass through it, when it barged open and in walked Stella with a vase of flowers. "Oh you're awake are you? Thanks for the flowers, I've popped them in some water but perhaps you'd better have a look, you're better at all these girly things than I am."

My mouth dropped open, okay so I did usually get lumbered with putting flowers in vases, but an arranger I was not. I could probably arrange a Mozart concerto as easily, and I couldn't do that either!

She plonked the vase down on the table in her room, "Wanna cuppa?"

"Yeah, that would be nice." I was a bit dry mouthed.

"Okay, I'll go and get some."

She was no flower arranger, that was for sure. I dug in my bag and brought out the penknife I always carried. It was a present from my dad when I was a kid, about the only one I'd kept. Genuine Swiss Army variety, 'Victorinox' and guaranteed 'rostfrei'.

I pulled out one or two stalks and cut them down to vary the height of things, mainly carnations and chrysanthemums. She returned just as I was finishing clearing up the mess from the stalks, putting the bits in the bin in her bathroom.

She put the cups down on the table and saw my knife. My blood ran cold as she picked it up, and I began to work out my options. Overpower her, hide in the bathroom, run for it, reason with her. Oh hell, I got all indecisive again.

"Swiss Army knife eh, I think Simon's got one of these somewhere, course as a girl, Daddy wouldn't let me have one." She looked at it, the red handle contrasting with the flashing blade. "You need to clean the blade, it's covered in goo from the flowers."

She handed it to me, handle forward. I took it trying not to snatch it. "Thanks I'll run it under the tap, so you don't have one?"

"Nah, just 'cos I'm a girl, but you have one and you're a girl. It's not fair, is it?"

"Not really," I called from the bathroom, I felt a trickle of sweat run down my back. For one moment I was really quite frightened. "I'll get you one for your birthday or Christmas. How about that?"

"The original designer bit of kit, yeah okay, if you trust me with a knife again."

"I have to, the kitchen is full of them. I have to turn my back to you sometime." I wasn't sure I felt as certain as I sounded. "Besides, it's nigh on impossible to stab someone with a penknife, they'd close on you and cut your hand, wouldn't they?"

"Some bloke in London stabbed a bloke with one a few years ago, don't you remember and I think he got off with it."

"No I don't, oh boy." I sighed, this wasn't the sort of news I needed to hear.

"Your tea's going cold."

"Oh yes, thanks." I came back into her room and picked up the cup and saucer, rather cheap china with a very institutional design on it, the sort you used to get in cafeterias in hospitals and universities.

I sipped some and it tasted okay.

"Of course, I might have poisoned it," she laughed.

I snorted and coughed and she laughed even more and shook her head. The old Stella was nearly back, and playing practical jokes would tend to suggest she was feeling better.

We sat down and finished out teas, "So are you feeling better?" I asked.

"At times, seeing you makes me feel better."

"That's nice to hear," I blushed back.

"I know I'm not quite ready to come home yet, but the therapy and the pills are helping."

"I'm really glad."

"Of course, I could have still poisoned you, given you one of my pills which would send you to sleep on the way home."

"I don't think you'd do that to me."

"But can you be sure?" she was really searching me.

I paused for a moment. I couldn't be sure, of course I couldn't. Common sense would tend to suggest she wouldn't have much opportunity to get pills and doctor the teas, but she could have done. If I had really suspected she had, would I have drunk it? I don't know. I felt queasy, but that was because she was taking me out of my comfort zone. I so needed to trust her, I loved her, if she really wanted to hurt me, she would anyway. I wasn't responsible for her actions, only my own.

"Yes," I replied, feeling more sweat run down my back, "because we're sisters."

She rushed into my arms and we hugged and wept together for several moments.

"We are sisters, Cathy, and I love you."

"I love you too Stella. We must never let anything come between us."

"Including Simon?" she said and snorted.

"Well, maybe we'll make an exception for him."

"Yeah, I suppose so," she laughed and we hugged again.