Joel had a small sack ready when Clyde came to fetch him. "What are you bringing?" Clyde asked.

"My Barbie, and some clothes," said Joel. "And I saved one of those candy bars you got me."

Clyde gasped as if shocked. "You're going to give her one of your candy bars? Joel, that's like your average man giving his girl a pound box of candy. I know how much you like them."

"Have you brought her any?"

"Well, no. I've brought her a lot of things, but for some reason I haven't thought to bring her any junk food."

"Then she'll want it."

"She probably will." Clyde patted his head. "You're going to be good for her, Joel."

As they walked along the corridor, Clyde said, "At least this first time we're going to visit her in her room. As I said, I don't expect there to be any trouble, but better safe than sorry. Now Joel, I'm going to leave the door unlocked. If anything happens, and you know what I mean by that, I want you out of it in a flash and running as hard as you can."

"But you..." said Joel.

"I think I can handle whatever she can throw at me, especially since she's never met any real resistance. Don't worry about me."

Joel waved at teh woman at the nurse's station when they went past. Bill Landrue was leaning against the wall, and judging from the longsuffering look on the nurse's face, he'd been trying to hit on her. "Hey, Doc," said Landrue. "You helping Twinkletoes move into a padded room?"

Joel, who had been almost prancing with happy excitement, stiffened, taking a step to put Clyde between himself and the man. Clyde's voice was cold. "You have things to do elsewhere?"

"No. I'm on break."

"I didn't give that the proper intonation. It wasn't meant as a question--you have things to do elsewhere." Landrue flushed angrily, but moved off down the hall. Clyde watched him with narrow, suspicious eyes. He said softly, "I rather hope he does something soon that will require me to DEAL with him."

"I wish you would," Joel whispered.

Clyde patted his arm. "Don't think about him, dear boy. You're about to meet someone much nicer--she's only a psychotic murderer, not a bullying asshole." They'd reached the corridor housing the violent patients. Clyde led Joel to Kathleen Bahste's room, plucking the clipboard from the slot on the door. He gave it a quick scan and made a note on it. 'Instituting interaction between patient and fellow inmate.' He put the board back. "One always knocks before one enters a lady's boudior," he rapped on the door. "Unless you really want to catch her at something."

A voice from inside called, "Well, that must be Clyde, because no one else bothers to knock. Come in."

*That's not Kitten. It sounds like Nareesha. They're still feeling cautious about letting Kitten meet Joel.* He glanced quickly at Joel. *I wonder if he'll notice? This should be interesting.* Clyde opened the door to find the young woman lounging on her bed. Nareesha was dressed in her favored garb--a black body suit, clinging Capri pants, and dramatic make-up. Even without the sleek black hair that Nareesha had described, Clyde could tell which of the girls this was by her posture and amused but watchful gaze. "Hello. I've brought you a visitor." They came in, and Clyde shut the door. "This is the young man I told you about. Joel, introduce yourself to the lady."

Joel, wide eyed and clutching his bag, edged over to the bed, extending his hand. "Hello, miss. I'm Joel Tarnour, and I'm pleased to meet you."

Nareesha took his hand and held it for a moment, studying him. She took in the smooth, somehow childlike face, the timid expression, and the nervous stance, then she smiled charmingly. "Hello, Joel. I'm pleased to meet you, too. Clyde has told me a lot about you."

Joel's expression clouded, and he stepped back, whispering to Clyde. "You said she was a little girl."

Nareesha sat up, eyeing the boy with new interest. "Joel, Dr. Clyde told you about us?"

Joel nodded. "You're lots of people in one body. That's okay. Some peope aren't enough to fill up one body." He frowned, and looked at Clyde. "Did that make sense?"

"Much more than most of what I hear on the outside," Clyde assured him. "We talked about this, Joel. She's a little girl in a grown up body."

"I understand. But I don't think that's Kitten. She sure doesn't seem like a little girl."

Nareesha laughed. "Oh, he's a perceptive little thing, too. You're absolutely right, darling. I'm Kitten's big sister, Nareesha. I wanted to meet you before you two had your play date. I hope you don't mind?"

Looking relieved, Joel shook his head. "You just want to be sure she'll be all right. Please let her come out. I want to play with her." He held up his bag. "I brought my Barbie. No one around here want's to play Barbie with me. They play cards or checkers, but they think dolls are silly."

"Well, I think they're silly," said Nareesha. "You seem like a nice boy, Joel. Would you like to be my friend as well as Kitten's?"

Joel nodded again. "You're nice. You're laughing, but it's not at me. What about the other sister--Casey? Will she want to be my friend, too?"

Nareesha pursed her lips. "You ask the hard questions. Time will tell, sweetie. Acacia doesn't like many people, I'm afraid. I'm afraid she hasn't had much reason to. But who can say? She'll watch you, and make up her own mind. I think Kitten will enjoy playing with you, though." She twiddled her fingers at Joel, who twiddled his in return. "You tell Dr. Clyde to bring you to visit me sometimes." Her eyes twinkled. "I like pretty boys, too." Her eyes started to unfocus.

Joel looked at Clyde. "Is she going to call Kitten?" "I doubt very seriously if she needs to be called," said Clyde. "I expect she's been crouching just out of sight, like a cat in wait."

"I like cats."

"Then you're going to love these girls."

Bright intelligence snapped into the girl's eyes, and she smiled shyly at Joel. "H'lo."

Joel recognized a fellow innocent immediately, and grinned in return. "Hi!" He held out his sack. "I brought my Barbie. Want to trade wardrobes?"

Kitten looked tempted, but said, "I dunno. I likes what I gots."

"I mean just for now, not for keepsies."

"Oh, that's all right, then." Kitten hopped off the cot and reached under it, pulling out the plastic storage and carrying case that Clyde had bought for her. "I gots lots of stuff--for parties, an' playin' games, an' sleepin'."

"I have one for dancing."

Kitten clapped her hands. "Casey'll like that! Is it a shorty go-go dress?"

"No, it's a ballet dress."

"Oh, tippy-toe dancing?" She'd seated herself on the floor and opened the case, starting to sort through the contents. "Her don't do that. Her says The Bastard wouldn't let her take lessons, 'cause he wanted her all to hisself. He was a mean ol' snot," she said matter-of-factly.

"He sounds like it." Joel sat down beside her, beginning to pull items out of his sack. "I'll let you put my tu-tu on your Barbie if you let me put that red dress on mine."

"Okay." They swapped outfits and began to dress the dolls.

They'd completely forgotten about Clyde, but he didn't mind. He sat cross-legged on the bed, propping his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hand, and watched them enjoy themselves. The meeting was going very well. He'd hoped that meeting another patient would draw the girls out, and it was certainly working. Those two were chattering like a couple of parakeets.

*He shouldn't order me around like that,* thought Bill Landrue sourly. Clyde was technically Landrue's superior, but Landrue conveniently ignored that fact. Like many swaggering men, Landrue was deep down insecure, and anyone who exhibited the least bit of force was viewed as a threat. Dr. Clyde was nothing if not forceful, so it grated on Bill to have to obey him. Anything he could do to make Clyde's life more difficult was fine with him, and taking a patient into the violent section would probably qualify.

Landrue was authorized to carry keys to the most secure area of the hospital, but they were supposed to be only for emergency use. Like most of the rest of the staff, he was highly encouraged not to go there alone. So far he hadn't strayed there, his apprehension over riding his natural tendency to go after anything that had been forbidden. When he came to work at St. Lucy's a year ago, part of his orientation had been seing photographs of what the violent patients were capable of. He'd worked a few months as a paramedic, and whet he'd seen on that job was no match for the images captured by those Polaroids.

Though Clyde pretty much ran the hospital on a practical level, Costas was the official head, and he didn't like anything that seemed to undermine his authority. Had Clyde gotten permission to take the boy into what was considered a potentially dangerous area? If he hadn't... That might be a termination offense. Frankly Bill couldn't think of any good reason for bringing Joel Tarnour around the hard cases. He supposed it was possible that Dr. Clyde had just wanted a chance at some semi-private nookie. In either case, catching him at it would give Bill some excellent blackmail material. Still, if he was going to go into restricted territory, he ought to have at least a marginally reasonable excuse.

Landrue had made himself scarce from the nurse's station simply because it was easier (and less hazardous) to obey the doctor's command, but now he had an idea. He went back, waited till she was on the phone, and slipped a piece of paper off the counter, strolling away with it in as nonchallant a manner as possible. He was careful to turn right at the corridor junction, heading toward the recreation room. He waited peered up into the round observation mirror that was mounted on the corner. A person positioned correctly could see down all three of the corridors at the T section. He glanced down at the paper. It was a memo from Costas about paid sick leave. He figured that if he ran into the doctor he could use it as an excuse, saying he'd been bringing it to him.

Bill waited till the nurse had turned away, then quickly crossed the hall, entering the corridor that led to the secure section. When he entered the patients' rooms area, he began checking the little lights above the doors. They lit automatically when someone entered, and had to be shut off again at the area entrance. That way there was always some way of telling if a staff member was in a room with a patient. Any one who forgot to reset the lights when they left was in for a royal reaming. The last time it had happened half the security force had poured into the room in question, scaring the piss out of the poor looney inside, when the doctor (subsequently fired) had left several minutes before.

The light was on over a door halfway down the corridor. Landrue checked the chart that was posted at the head of the hallway. *Bahste. I haven't seen that one--they've really kept her bottled up tight since she's been here. Catatonic. What's she doing on the violent ward if she's a vegetable? Seventeen. Hmm...* He grinned, and it was a nasty expression. *So what we're saying is that she's a full sized living doll. That could be a mighty amusing thing for the right person.*

The door of Kathleen Bahste's room started to open, and Landrue moved quickly. He scuttled, rather like something that might have crawled out of the darkness under a rock, and become panicked by the light of day. He dashed across the corridor and went into the men's room in the hall opposite. He cracked the door, and could just see the security mirror, while staying hidden himself. Dr. Clyde and his little playmate emerged from the room and started down the hallway toward him. Clyde had his arm around the other man's shoulder, saying something that was making him giggle like a girl. That irritated Landrue. Anyone having a good time that Bill himself didn't cause irritated him.

Bill realized something very interesting--he hadn't seen the doctor lock the door when he left Bahste's room. *Oh, that's a dreadful oversight. I ought to go take care of that right away.* He started toward the room. *And maybe I should just step in and see if she's all right.* Pulse speeding up in anticipation, he started across to the other hall.

"Going somewhere?" Clyde was standing just around the corner in the main corridor, close enough to reach out and touch Landrue.

Landrue didn't hesitate. For a crude man, he could be remarkably smooth in his lies. He held out the paper. "I think you haven't see this yet."

Clyde's gaze didn't even flick to the paper. "What is it?"

"It's a memo from Director Costas about sick leave."

"Landrue, in your time here, have I ever taken sick time?"

"No."

"You looked like you were about to pursue me into the violent ward. I do hope I was mistaken."

"I was going to wait for you at the entrance."

"I'm glad to hear that. Put that back where you got it, and don't go poking about in there." Clyde leaned toward him slightly. "Because let me tell you very seriously, Landrue--that place is St. Lucy's equivalent of the deep, dark forests. There are dangerous things in there--things with teeth, claws, and bad attitudes. You wouldn't be safe in there."

Landrue knew that it wasn't a good idea, but he couldn't stop himself from responding. "And you are?"

Clyde smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I understand them, Landrue." The smile broadened. "And I'm stronger than I look. Take my advice--stay where you belong."

Landrue's voice was faintly snide. "Or it'll go on my permanent record?"

Clyde's answer was cold. "I think something permanent might happen, but your record will be the least of your worries."