Bright Skyes

Part 1


The prison gates clanged shut behind Lana. Prison gates always clanged. In a way, it was the building's way of telling you that you were on one side of the gates and that that's where you would stay.

Fortunately, this time, Lana was on the outside of the gates.

The road outside the prison was mostly empty, which made sense. Between the prison and the city there was nothing, except that road. Currently a very old-fashioned, almost certainly second-hand white Saab stood on the road. And leaning against the car's door was Ema. She looked the same as she always had. The white labcoat, the red glasses resting on her forehead in case some emergency luminol testing was required and, slung around her shoulder, the leather bag with its assortment of testing fluids.

Lana stood still for a moment, uncertain of what to say or do. 'Hello' seemed so... inappropriate.

Apparently Ema did know what to do. All it took was a few steps and her arms were around her. Smiling faintly, Lana put her own arms around Ema and felt her younger sister pull her closer.

"I missed you," Ema whispered.

"I'm glad I'm back," Lana replied.

Ema chuckled once and let go. "OK then. I guess we should be heading home."

"I suppose," said Lana.

"Don't worry, I already moved most of your stuff to my apartment," Ema said, walking to the car and opening the door on the driver's side.

"Most?" Lana asked, taking place in the passenger.

"Well, I didn't want to bring stuff that'd remind you of... you know... him."

Lana felt a surprise bordering on shock at hearing such venom in Ema's voice, but decided not to comment on it. "Thank you," she said simply. "So, how as Europe?"

"What? Didn't you recieve my letters?" Ema asked, turning the car around and starting the drive down the road.

"Of course I did, but I'd like to hear you tell me."

Smiling, Ema glanced briefly at her sister before turning her eyes back on the road. Then started telling all the stories Lana had already read. Lana didn't really pay attention to any of the actual words and knew that Ema knew that she wasn't paying attention. Ema's stay in Europe had been as pleasant as could be and as she told Lana about it, her eyes shone and her voice filled with enthusiasm. That was what Lana paid attention to and what she had missed so much in prison. And... before.

Although Ema needed to keep her eyes on the road, Lana had no such obligation and so spent her time watching her sister talk. It began to dawn on her that her first impression had been wrong. Ema had changed. Not in her taste of fashion or love of forensics, but she had aged, which was no big surprise. In Lana's mind, the girl who had written the letters had always been that enthusiastic if sometimes slightly awkward teenage girl. But the girl now sitting in the driver's seat wasn't a girl any more. She was obviously a young woman and, underneath the hair that barely saw a comb or the clothes that were worn for practicality, she was a surprisingly beautiful young woman.

Lana felt a sudden stab of pain. Her sister had matured from teenager to woman and she'd missed it. All that time... gone.

Lana looked away and out the window at the landscape. Next to her, Ema's voice quickly fell silent.

-----

The apartment was... small. It was clean and bright and nicely decorated (although clearly by Ema), but it was still small. Ema nervously hovered around her.

"OK, so this bit here is the living room, because it has the couch and the TV. Over there's the kitchen and dinner area. That door leads to the bathroom and those doors lead to the bedrooms." Ema looked around helplessly for something else that needed saying.

Lana reached out and put her hand on Ema's shoulder. She could feel the younger woman instantly relaxing under her touch. It was a reaction that was strangely warming.

"It's a very nice place," Lana said.

"Well, it'll do for a rookie in forensics," Ema said. "But it's nothing compared to what you had when you... uhm..."

"When I was Chief Prosecutor? Or star detective?"

"Yeah," said Ema. "Sorry."

"Don't. This place is infinitely better than what I had then. In any case, which bedroom is mine?"

"Right," said Ema, grabbing Lana's hand, walking towards the two bedroom doors and opening the door on the right. "Here it is."

It was a very small bedroom with a bed and a closet and nothing more. Several cardboard boxes were stuffed into a corner.

"Well," said Lana, taking a few steps into the room, "I might need to get used to this."

"It'll look better once you unpack some of your stuff," Ema said confidently.

"I'm sure it will," said Lana.

Suddenly Lana felt Ema pressing against her back, her sister's arms around her waist and her head resting on her shoulders.

"Welcome home."

Lana smiled and put a hand on Ema's hands. "Thank you," she said. "It's good to be home."

-----

Moonlight fell into the bedroom, but its faint light was pushed aside by the glare of a city that never to sleep. Lana sat on the edge of her bed, looking out the window. Dinner (insofar an ordered pizza could be considered 'dinner') had been mostly quiet. She'd wanted to say something, had felt the unspoken words in her chest, but hadn't been able to form those same words in her mind. So she'd chatted about inconsequential things and felt slightly ashamed for it.

It had something to do with Ema, she knew that. Of course, most everything she said or did or thought had something to do with Ema. After all, Ema was... she was...

And again there was that feeling she was screaming inside, but her mind was drawing a blank.

Ema was her sister.

Well, yes. Obviously. That was rather hard to deny. But she was also...

Important.

And again, a statement of the blatantly obvious. If she told Ema she was important to her she wouldn't be telling her anything she didn't already know. After all, few people were willing to die for someone who wasn't really important to them. No, she wanted to tell Ema... tell... tell her that she was... that she was more than important. She wanted to tell her that she... that she...

Loved her.

Lana froze as she felt her body being filled with the depth of that love. And it clearly wasn't mere sibling love, although that was a part of it. Ema, the teenager who wrote her letters in prison and the young woman who now shared her apartment with her, was someone she desired.

Lana put a hand on her chest and closed her eyes.

"I see," she whispered to the darkness.