ONE WEEK EARLIER - FRIDAY

Quinn parked her car at the curb, and walked up the cemented path to the front door, glancing at the mailbox for the house number as a final check to make sure she had the right place.

None of her clients would have recognized her at first glance. She was in the one dress she owned for going to nice places, knee-length, green in a shade that complimented her hair color, in a style that would be appropriate for going to church, if she were so inclined. Her hair was neatly combed, so that, short as it was, most of it lay more or less flat, and her makeup was so muted as to be almost unnoticeable. As she walked up the porch, she took a deep breath. She wasn't usually nervous in social situations, including meeting new people, but this was different. It wasn't just that she didn't want to waste a rare day off her father had granted her. The chance of Quinn's future happiness in life depended on what happened here. And there was a fair chance she wouldn't even make it past the front door.

She rang the doorbell, holding, in her other hand behind her, her last-ditch defense against rejection.

As the door opened, and the middle-aged woman casually dressed in slacks and buttoned shirt said, "Yes?", Quinn put on her most disarming smile.

"Mrs. Bachman?" When the woman nodded, Quinn said, "My name is Quinn Burress. I'm a friend of your daughter Susan."

Coming on a weekday afternoon had been Suzy's idea. Her dad would be at work. Suzy thought her mother might be more open to the conversation Quinn wanted to have with her.

The woman, now confirmed for Quinn to be Emily Bachman, gave Quinn a puzzled look, as if the words "friend of Susan" were a novelty to her. "How can I help you, Miss Burress?"

"I like your daughter very much, but there are some things about her I'd like to know more about. She's not exactly a... social animal." Quinn and Suzy had debated about possible openings. Suzy was sure that her mother -- her mother? Susan's mother? Surely Emily had to be Suzy's as well, whether Emily knew it or not -- was fully aware of Susan's psychological quirks, and how they registered on other people. Quinn eventually agreed with Suzy that a straightforward approach was best.

Emily frowned, seeming a little put off. Quinn felt worried. Maybe that hadn't been the right opening after all. "What is it you wanted to know?"

Quinn decided that there wasn't time to think up a new, more subtle approach. She needed to plunge right in. "I believe something must have happened to her as a child. Some people are very shy from birth, and it's just the way they were always going to be. But when it passes a certain point, there's usually some... trauma, in their past. Something that changed their path in life."

Quinn and Suzy had decided that this, in fact, had to be the case. It was partly due to the fact that Suzy had absolutely no recollection of any event that happened before she was about five years old. She was aware that, not long before that, the family had lived in a different part of town: Suzy, or Susan actually, had once found an old envelope addressed to her father at a different address, with a date that indicated it had been sent when Susan was four years old. She'd asked her mother about it, and Emily had vaguely said "Yes, we used to live there," then changed the subject, successfully steering the conversation away from further questions. Suzy firmly believed that an event as big as leaving her familiar surroundings and moving into a new home was an event sufficiently disruptive that a four-year-old should remember it, but Suzy did not -- and if Susan remembered it, Suzy would.

Suzy herself was fairly sure she had existed as far back as Susan's most distant memories -- Suzy experienced those memories through the same gauzy and slightly removed film that colored any of Susan's more recent memories. Suzy couldn't recall identifying herself as a person separate from Susan until about age twelve or thirteen, but she knew, in retrospect, she had been within Susan for as far back as any of Susan's memories went. And she was convinced that if any of those memories went back farther than about age five, Suzy herself would have access to them.

There was more evidence than just the move to a new house that Susan should remember but did not. One of the earliest memories Suzy did have from Susan was sitting holding her mother's hand in what seemed most likely, in hindsight, to be a doctor's office, and a man, presumably the doctor, saying something about "the incident." Suzy didn't know why that memory had stuck from so far back, other than having a sense that little Susan had thought "incident" was a neat word, with an amusing sound to it. Childhood memories require those sorts of hooks.

Of course, there was one major piece of evidence of trauma, a smoking gun, that Quinn had no intention of passing along to Emily: Susan had multiple personalities. That didn't just happen for no reason. Finding that reason, Quinn knew from her reading, was the first step towards doing something about it.

As soon as Quinn suggested that something might have happened in Susan's childhood, Emily began to look a little angry. "Are you a reporter? Trying to get yourself a byline by dredging up a family's heartbreak?" She moved as if she was preparing to slam the door shut in Quinn's face.

Quinn quickly held up her hand in a making-peace gesture, and spoke fast. "Please, Mrs. Bachman, I'm not a reporter, I'm not here to hurt anyone in any way. Susan isn't easy to get to know, but I know she's worth it. I met her in the library, when I asked her where I could find the martial arts books." Quinn had made peace with the fact she was telling a lie by pointing out to herself that at least that was something she had done in libraries. "She told me, and she just seemed so sweet, and when I could tell she didn't want to talk anymore I made the effort. And I have managed to get her talking about herself -- not that day, but I kept trying later." She pulled her left hand out from behind her, holding a seed packet and offering it to Emily. "She mentioned you liked gardening." That was closer to the truth -- it was Suzy who had told her that, but that seemed fair. "These are cherry tomatoes, a sun gold hybrid. They're getting really popular now, because of how sweet and tart they taste. I know it's a little late in the year to get them started, but early next spring would be ideal." She handed the packet to a startled Emily.

Emily stared at Quinn for what seemed to Quinn to be a full fifteen seconds. "Does she know you're here?"

Quinn knew how to answer that. If Susan did know, Emily would wonder why Susan hadn't come herself if she wanted to ask about some traumatic childhood event. Quinn shook her head. "No ma'am. I came on my own. Susan told me her hometown, so I was able to find you. And I promise, I swear, that if you tell me anything that might hurt Susan if she knew it, then I will never pass it on to her. I care about her too much. I just think the more I know about her, the easier it will be to help her." Quinn smiled. "I'm not any kind of doctor or other expert. And maybe you've tried those. But if that didn't work, it's because helping Susan was just a job to them. They didn't care the way I do." She looked steadily at Emily.

Quinn had known that this approach could be dangerous, if Emily Bachman didn't think there was anything wrong with her daughter. But Suzy felt sure that she did. Other than that one disconnected memory, she couldn't recall a childhood full of medical and psychological professionals. But she thought there must have been some.

Emily looked at Quinn for an even longer time. At last, she backed away from the door, made a beckoning gesture, and said in a neutral voice, "Come in."

Quinn sat quietly on the sofa, holding her tumbler of iced tea. Emily was across from her in an easy chair, perched on its front edge, hunched forward, making it an uneasy chair. She stared at the floor in silence. Quinn knew better than to break into Emily's meditations. She knew Emily was not just deciding how to start, but whether. Prodding wouldn't help at this point.

Emily suddenly began speaking, in a low, barely audible voice. "About sixteen... no, it's seventeen years ago, we had what they call a home invasion."

Quinn sucked in her breath. She knew this wasn't going to be easy to listen to. Seventeen years ago. Susan would have been four.

Emily went on, seeming oblivious to Quinn's reaction. "It was in early evening. The funny thing, if you can call it funny, is they had the wrong house. 135 instead of 153. Our neighbors a few houses down had a... secret that wasn't secret enough. Sam, the man who lived there with his wife, didn't trust banks. He kept his savings in a safe at home. We didn't know that, at the time. But apparently he had told some coworkers, and it got to a friend of a friend of a friend, something like that.

"So this wasn't any big organized crime operation, just a couple of guys who thought there'd be easy money.

"It was early evening, about 8. Dark. I was just getting ready to put Susan to bed, but I hadn't started yet. She was in the living room, with dolls scattered around the floor, and the TV tuned to a cartoon channel.

"I got up and told her to start putting her toys away and get her jammies on. When I got up, I saw a car come screeching to a stop in front of the house, and two men jumped out. By the streetlight I could see they were wearing masks, and I could see guns. Shotguns. They came trotting up the walk.

"Of course, I was terrified. Greg was working a swing shift then, and I was home alone with Susan.

"The first thing I thought of was Susan. Of course. I didn't think there was time to get her up to her room upstairs, so I took her to ours, just off the living room. I sat her down on the floor of the big wardrobe in the bedroom, and said bad men were coming, and told her not to make a sound, not a single sound, and I closed the door on her." Emily's lip quivered. "I don't know if hiding her in there would have worked if she hadn't seen how scared I was. She was such an outgoing child. She would have heard people in the house and wanted to make new friends." Quinn blinked in surprise, as Emily went on. "I couldn't help it. A child seeing a parent frightened can be devastating. But I just..."

Quinn said quietly, "I know. When you're scared, you're scared. And if she'd just thought it was a game, you're probably right, she'd probably have come out to see what was happening. That might have been worse."

Emily nodded, and wiped away her first tear. "I went back out to the living room to lock the front door -- I know I should have done that first, but instinct just made me get Susan out of there before anything else. I was too late, the men got in. They started shouting 'Where's the safe?' and waving their guns around.

"I had no idea what they were talking about. We didn't own a safe, and I told them that. They didn't believe me, and one of them hit me. I started screaming for help, and he hit me again. Three or four times, I think."

Quinn was shaking her head. Children consider their parents the rocks of their life, unshakeable, protecting them from all dangers. Susan hadn't just seen her mother terrified. She'd heard her being beaten, crying out for help.

"While the one was hitting me, the other started searching the house. Starting with the den, the first room he came to. I could hear him turning over furniture, knocking things over.

"And then he headed towards the bedroom. I screamed.

"And then suddenly there were sirens. Our neighbor across the street had just happened to look out his front window when the men arrived. And called 9-1-1.

"The men took off when they heard the sirens. I saw them leave. I don't exactly remember what I did next. Everything is kind of hazy."

Quinn nodded, though Emily wasn't looking at her.

"I do remember the police being in the house with me when I went to the bedroom. I ran to the wardrobe, yanked the door open.

"I remember I reached down for Susan, to pick her up, saying 'Hey, baby, it's okay now,' or something like that. I could see something was wrong. She was..."

Emily stopped and swallowed convulsively. She ran the side of her glass of iced tea across her forehead. After a time she went on. "She was in a fetal position, with her eyes squeezed shut tight, in a catatonic stupor. You know what that is?"

Quinn, shocked to her core, could barely rasp, "Yes." A psychiatric state in which the sufferer is frozen into immobility, unresponsive to any stimulus, for a prolonged period of time.

"Caused by post-traumatic stress, the doctor at the hospital said. She didn't move for two days. I stayed with her the whole time, in her room -- there was a very sweet nurse, Jenny, who brought meals to me -- and Greg was there whenever he could be.

"After those two days, she kind of unwound. I woke up from a nap, and she was looking at me. I hugged her and we both started crying.

"I couldn't go back to the house, of course. Ever. We stayed in a hotel a few days, until Greg found a house to rent -- this one. I wanted to get as far away as possible, but we still needed to be close enough to Greg's work. My sister and Greg's brother helped him get all our furniture and stuff moved here.

"I kept thinking, kids are resilient, Susan will get through this. But... she was never the same. She'd been such a happy, active child, and she loved people. But after... well, you know. She was scared of anything and everything. Especially people. She couldn't bear to be around them. It was a major trial getting her to go to kindergarten. She'd come home crying every day." Tears were streaming down Emily's face now.

Quinn had set her glass on the floor, and sat now with her head in her hands, shaking her head without really being conscious of it.

"We thought it was kind of a breakthrough when she moved out and got the library job. We've been giving her some space. We call to check once in a while, but Greg and I are hoping that being independent will get her reaching out more to people. The way she talks about her life, though, it hasn't sounded like much has been different." Emily gave Quinn a weak smile. "There's you, though. Just interacting with another person, like you, that's something new. Though from what you've said, you could tell all along something was wrong."

Quinn looked up and said quietly, "I could, yes. If it helps, though, I've found she's really sweet. I guess I said that already. But just... really closed off."

Emily just nodded, at that.

A lot of questions answered, Quinn thought to herself. Like for example...

Quinn was startled when she played back in her mind something she had only half-heard Emily saying. She looked up at Emily once more. "I'm sorry, could you say that again?"

"I was just saying, one of the strange things was the whole issue about her name. Of course, it's Susan, but all her life we'd always called her Suzy. Me and Greg both. After the... thing... she suddenly didn't want to be Suzy anymore. She insisted on wanting to be called Susan. We never saw a connection -- I mean, I hadn't called her by any name while the whole thing was happening, and the men definitely wouldn't have called her anything. They wouldn't have had any idea she even existed. So it's not like hearing the name 'Suzy' could have set off memories. So it's just one of those mysteries."

Quinn's jaw dropped, and she had a minor episode of catatonia herself. She could not make herself move. At last she collected herself. "Mystery. Yes. Who knows." She was shaking her head, feeling as if the world was whirling around her.

Emily hardly noticed Quinn. She was sitting wiping tears away, sniffling. She got up and went to the kitchen, found a tissue, and blew her nose. She came back out. "Does that... I don't know what you were looking for. Does that help?"

Quinn stood. "I'm not sure, ma'am. I'll have to..." She caught herself just in time. If she had followed "I'll have to" with "talk it over..." as she nearly had, she would have been in trouble. Emily would expect Quinn to keep this entirely to herself -- and certainly she wouldn't understand Quinn wanting to talk to Suzy, whom she knew nothing about. "...think about it. But I can't tell you how much I appreciate you telling me. I know that wasn't easy."

Emily gave her a shaky smile. "I've never talked about this with anyone but police or doctors. But I somehow... felt like you were the right person."

"I hope so, ma'am. I'll try to help any way I can."

"Thank you." Emily surprised Quinn by hugging her.

THAT NIGHT

Quinn and Suzy lay facing each other in Susan's bed, their arms around each other, legs tangled together, sheets rumpled around them, their faces inches apart but not kissing. Their clothes lay scattered on the floor in a line from the front door to the bed. When Quinn had arrived, with Skittles for Susan, they both knew they had a lot to talk about, but neither could think with sex hanging over their heads. Now, in the afterglow of lovemaking, Quinn's arm was draped across Suzy's waist, her hand idly stroking Suzy's butt. Suzy's hand was behind Quinn's head, fingers lightly playing with her hair.

Quinn had just finished passing along the story of the home invasion, holding back, for the moment, the most important thing she had learned. She wanted to deal with that as a separate issue. "Okay," Suzy said, "Let's see if we can put this all together. Susan is hidden in the wardrobe. She's seen that her mom is really frantic with fear, she knows bad men are here. She can't see what they're doing, but she hears the shouting, her mom screaming, can probably tell these guys are beating up on Mom. Mom told her to be quiet, don't move." She shuddered.

Quinn nodded gravely. "She's terrified, and she's doing exactly what Mom said. She tries as hard as she can not to move a muscle, not to make a sound. She squeezes her eyes closed, thinking if she can't see anything, then nothing can see her. Little kids think like that."

Suzy nodded. "I think this has to be where the whole bondage thing came from. The experience left Susan with this internal command, an imperative, that she must not move, has to hold absolutely still. Bondage helps with that. When she's tied up, she can't move, and she feels so much more comfortable, more safe, when she's not able to move."

"Right! Remember that first time I tied her up, on the bed? You told me to do it that way, because you knew she'd love it -- tied so stretched out she could barely move at all. That's when Susan is happiest -- when she's least able to move. In her daily life, ever since her catatonic episode ended, she's known she has to move around to live. But she hates it! When she's in bondage, everything is the way it should be."

"Oh, and of course, it's why she especially likes the gag and blindfold. She doesn't want to make a sound, so she feels more comfortable with a gag. And the blindfold -- when she's blindfolded she feels invisible, like you were saying. And that's what she wants."

Quinn picked up the thread. "And it's why she can't bear to be around people. It's like -- how did you put it that time? -- it's not that she's afraid OF people. She's terrified of being seen BY people. Of having them know she's there, of having them thinking about her. Because that's exactly what she was afraid of, in that wardrobe."

Suzy bit her lip. "There's still one thing I don't get. How did it get to be a fetish? I mean, why the sexual component, where the bondage totally turns her on? I've always known how Susan feels about that, but I've never known why, because she doesn't know why either. If this all dates from when we were four, there wasn't anything sexual about it then. And she was sure as hell too scared to be turned on anyway."

Quinn frowned. "Okay, I don't know. Anything can get to be a fetish, but I don't know why this did. You're right, it doesn't seem like there should be a connection." She looked away, thinking. "But there is. And it takes in everything that was happening to her right then. Including fear. When she can't move, can't make a sound, and when she's afraid of something -- the more of that there is, the more she responds to it sexually. For some reason."

"There's one other thing I also don't get. When she knows the bondage will be really hard to get out of, will take a lot of work, that also adds to the arousal. I can kind of see that, ordinarily, for anyone who loves being in bondage, but I don't see how it matches up with anything she experienced in the wardrobe. Everything else traces back to that, so this should too."

Quinn frowned. "Okay, I don't see that either. And I'm not inside her like you are. You haven't caught anything that explains that?"

Suzy shook her head. "I know exactly what she feels, when it's happening, but no idea why she feels it. It just happens. I can't catch any thoughts about why, because she doesn't know." They both sat silently for a time, thinking, though they both knew Suzy's time was running out.

Suzy's eyes widened suddenly. "You know, when she was in that wardrobe, she could have moved. She wasn't tied up or anything like that. She was just afraid to. If the whole atmosphere of the wardrobe gets her off now, for whatever reason, then there's a way to get her even higher than bondage would. Make it somehow so she's afraid to move, even though she's not tied up. That would be a more accurate reflection of the situation."

Quinn gasped, and grinned. "Hey, you're talking to the right person. That gave me some ideas."

Quinn took a deep breath before continuing. Up to this point, they had purely been puzzle solving, and they hadn't talked much about what the goal would be when the puzzle was finished. Quinn knew Suzy felt her body belonged to Susan, but they had agreed they wanted Susan to be able to turn control over to Suzy at will, without having to get drunk to do it, so that Suzy could at least experience the world, on occasion, in a non-inebriated state. But Quinn had one more thing to tell Suzy, and she wasn't sure what the last piece of information would do to Suzy, except that it would upend her entire sense of who she was. So Quinn had been hesitant to bring it up, not knowing quite how to say it or what effect it would have. But Suzy absolutely needed to know. Just tell her, Quinn ordered herself. "There's one more thing." Quinn hesitated a little longer.

Suzy could easily sense Quinn's reluctance to continue. "What is... Is everything okay?"

Okay, thought Quinn. Here goes. "The girl your mom put in the wardrobe -- we need to call her Suzy, not Susan. Because it wasn't her." She continued, her voice shaking with the overwhelming awe she felt. "It was you, babe. You were the terrified little girl in the wardrobe. Honey... You're the original personality. Not her. You."

Suzy stared at her for a period that seemed forever. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"Your mom told me that before this all happened, she and your dad always called their daughter Suzy. And she was like you, not like Susan. She was really outgoing, loved meeting people. Then suddenly this whole thing erupts, and afterward... their daughter started insisting on being Susan. You didn't come into being in the wardrobe, babe. SHE did."

Suzy goggled at her. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Quinn continued, "You were SO scared. You were too afraid you'd mess up, move your foot and knock something over, make a little squeaking sound in your throat -- anything you might do could give you away, and you couldn't handle it. So... You broke off a piece of yourself. One that was created for just one thing: to stay still. To stay quiet. To stay invisible. A new you who could concentrate on that one job, and not be distracted by anything else, to avoid a disaster beyond anything you could imagine."

Suzy's eyes widened. "It... it..." She swallowed convulsively. "That has to be right. All this time we've been talking about the... the whole thing, the guys with the guns, Mom getting beaten, Susan hiding in the wardrobe, I wasn't making any sense out of why she'd create me in her head. It didn't seem to accomplish anything. But... This, this way, it does fit together. To create a specialized personality, just for doing this one thing. And that was Susan, and after I made her, she couldn't figure out how to give my body back to me. Or was just afraid to." Suzy began breathing hard, and covered her face with her hands.

Quinn could feel Suzy's body shaking. She pulled Suzy against her, wrapping not just her arms but also her legs around her. She held her without speaking for several minutes.

At last Suzy's hands fell away from her face. She looked directly at Quinn. She tried to speak, and finally settled on "Wow!"

Quinn nodded. "Yeah, exactly." She looked at Suzy closely. "Does this change anything?"

Suzy looked blankly at Quinn, then realized what she meant. "Yeah. OH, yeah. If it's my body..." She let the sentence trail off. It was obvious what the end of it was.

She put her fist to her mouth, and chewed on the nearest knuckle, looking down. "She still doesn't know how to turn it back over to me. She wasn't... built with a system for doing that. She never let go, in all those years, until the very first time in her life she got drunk. Like anybody when they get drunk, she lost her concentration, her focus. She's drunk right now, and that's why I'm here. My body is drunk. I can think, and I can talk to you, but my head is still kind of spinning." She giggled. "Even more now." Then she frowned. "But we can't keep me drunk all the time. And it doesn't even work anyway. Susan eventually gathers herself, and gets herself back on the job. When I'm me and I drink more, it doesn't stop her from doing that. We saw that."

Quinn's eyes widened. "Yes, but it still tells us something important. It proves she doesn't have a total lock on the body! She has to work at keeping hold on it, and when something interferes, like drinking, she loses the ability to stay in front of you, at least temporarily. So she can give it up, even if it's been accidental and involuntary so far. What we need is to get her willing to give it up, so she can relax her hold on it and let go. So we have to figure out, what would make her willing?"

"I don't know if it's that easy. I made her to protect me. If that's her whole reason for existing, she's not just going to say, Okay, I'll stop doing it."

Quinn closed her eyes in thought. "What if she could be convinced you were safe? That you are safe. That her job is done, and she doesn't have to do it anymore."

"How? She doesn't even consciously remember why she's doing it."

"I know, but something in her knows. If I..." Quinn smiled. "I'd try to convince her you'll always be safe with me. That I will never let anybody hurt you."

Suzy blinked. She wasn't sure how to respond, because Quinn had never, at any time, suggested where their relationship was going. And now they were talking about Suzy reclaiming herself, being the person she was meant to be. Was Quinn now saying she saw their relationship as something permanent? With that thought out in the open, Suzy had to know what it meant. Now. "You'd have to mean it. I'm pretty sure she could tell if you're not sincere." She held her breath, waiting for Quinn's answer.

Quinn smiled. "I do mean that."

Suzy tightened her arms around Quinn, pulled her tight against her body and kissed her. And kissed her again. She hurried to roll over onto Quinn before Quinn could take her the other direction. They had an unspoken rule that whoever got on top first could stay there. Suzy didn't get there very often.

Suzy paused suddenly in mid kiss, supporting her weight on her elbows on either side of Quinn as she looked down at her. "Wait! I just thought! If we do somehow fix it so I can take over, and always be in control of my body... Susan will be dead!" She blinked over wide eyes, horrified that she had neglected to consider this basic point. "When I'm out front, I can't hear her at all, and I know that every time she comes back, she's totally blank on the periods when I'm in charge. She's not there now, for example. If I took over forever, she'd be gone forever!" Tears began leaking from Suzy's eyes.

Quinn looked up at her in surprise. She obviously hadn't given it any thought either. After a few seconds she nodded her head slightly, with a look of having made a decision. "Once she knows she can give up control, she'll see how to do it. We can set aside time for her to be herself. Once a week, maybe. And it won't seem limited, to her. She'll perceive her life as continuous -- maybe with little jumps, where she's suddenly somewhere else, but she's already used to that -- and we can keep setting up bondage things for her, like you do now. She'll be happy with her life and won't have a problem with giving it back to you, as long as she knows she can keep coming back." She smiled, reached up and gently brushed the tears off Suzy's cheeks.

Suzy, her eyes now alight, said, "Perfect!", and kissed Quinn again. She glanced over at the clock and bit her lip. "It's late, and my head is starting to settle down. She'll be back soon."

Quinn raised up her head to kiss Suzy lightly. "I could stay until she gets here. This isn't any secret."

Suzy nodded. "I know. She figured out a long time ago what we do when you come over. But she's sure that because of the way she is, she'll never have a boyfriend, as much as she wishes somehow she could. I don't like to throw this in her face." She returned Quinn's kiss.

"I understand. Totally. Talk to you Sunday night?" She slid out from under Suzy, out of the bed, and started hunting down her clothes.

Suzy followed her to the door, to give her a hug and goodbye kiss, and said "Sunday sounds good." After Quinn closed the door, Suzy returned to her bedroom, picking up discarded clothing along the way, got into her pajamas, knowing how uncomfortable Susan was with being naked, even alone, and began stripping the bed. It was a matter of being polite to Susan, but Suzy was feeling extra warmth towards Susan right now, having learned what an important part of her Susan had been.

She was sitting at the table, in her PJs, staring at the bowl full of the Skittles she'd asked Quinn to bring, when she felt herself losing hold. She relaxed and let Susan come up.

Quinn walked down the hallway to the stairs, still feeling Suzy's last kiss on her lips. She felt taut all over, in the realization of how very much she needed a plan that would work. She had never had a live-in girlfriend, but she suddenly realized how very much she wanted to be able to wake up in the morning and feel Suzy's warmth pressed up against her. That it wasn't possible under present circumstances, that there was simply no way to be with Suzy for more than a few hours every few days, was the greatest frustration she'd ever known.

ONE WEEK LATER

Okay, thought Quinn, as she finished giving Susan her revealing biography. Time to see if this all works. Still holding Susan's right hand within the grip of the duct tape, turned to face her directly, took her other hand as well, and looked intently into Susan's eyes. She began speaking again, softly now, slowly, distinctly.

"Susan, there's a reason I told you all this. I want you to see I'm a good person, I try to look out for people's needs, and I'm really determined and work very hard to do what needs to be done."

Quinn's reading during the past week had led her to this two-part strategy. Her first goal had been to do as much as she could to establish Susan's complete trust in her, and in particular, for Susan to trust that she was completely safe with Quinn. Quinn had put Susan in a helplessly bound position, where Quinn could have taken advantage of her at will, and had instead Quinn had simply gratified Susan's sexual needs and let her go. She had bound Susan's hand to hers, and taken Susan on a walk through the woods, hoping to make Susan feel she and Quinn were close friends walking along holding hands -- doing so by forcing the hand-holding wouldn't have worked on anyone but Susan, who felt far more at home in bondage than freedom. Quinn had given Susan that biography of herself, revealing some things that didn't especially present her in a good light, hoping Susan would see the trust Quinn was placing in her, hoping Susan would reciprocate.

All of that led into the second part of the strategy. Quinn wanted to take Susan back to a time before bondage, closer to the time when the imperative to stay motionless, quiet, and invisible didn't yet have the crutch of bondage to support it. That is, closer to Susan's beginning, before her ownership of the body had been locked in as tightly as it was now. And at that point, the last step was to nudge Susan the final distance back into the trauma that had created her, a dangerous thing to do if Susan were alone, but the key was to make Susan feel she was not alone. Quinn, trusted Quinn, with whom Susan felt safe, would be there with her. Quinn had read the report of one therapist who claimed to have had success in treating a patient with multiple personalities by following such a strategy.

Now it was time to take Susan there.

"Susan, I love Suzy. I would do anything for her. She is the one woman I will never hurt. She is the one woman I will never want to hurt."

Quinn saw Susan's surprised reaction to that. Quinn had never yet told Suzy that she loved her. The reaction in Susan had to be Suzy's, and it was an indication that Suzy was very likely closer to the surface than Susan had ever before allowed her while in control. It made up Quinn's mind to take the final step.

Quinn slowed her voice still more. "Susan, you don't have to stand guard over Suzy anymore." Quinn saw Susan's eyes go wide. "I promise, I will never let anything or anyone hurt her. You know me now, and you know I can keep her safe, and let you rest. And as long as she lives, she promises you will never die. She won't let you. She and I will make sure you have the wonderful life you deserve, after everything you've done. Remember last night. I can do that for you. We both promise that. Feel that promise inside you."

Quinn paused to let what she'd said so far have its effect on Susan, then resumed speaking. "Let us take care of you, the way you took care of her all these years."

Quinn saw she had Susan's full, absolutely undivided attention. Susan's eyes seemed unable to look away from Quinn's.

Quinn took a deep breath. This is it, she thought. "Susan: Let me join you in that wardrobe. Let Suzy come over to me. You don't have to protect her anymore."

Bingo! thought Quinn. That meant something to her! It's not at the conscious level, but something down deep in Susan remembers the wardrobe, and what she was created to do.

Susan's jaw dropped, and she leaned back, jerking her left hand out of Quinn's grasp to put it behind herself for support, to keep from falling over. Quinn saw Susan's eyes go blank for a moment, fixed on nothing, but only for an instant. Expression returned, in those eyes and around them, the whole face lighting up in an expression of pure joy.

"It worked!!!! I'm here! And I'm not drunk!" Quinn recognized the voice as Suzy's. Suzy slapped her free hand against her other arm, tilted her head in both directions, seeming to be trying to verify that she wasn't imagining it -- that Susan had let her take over. Suzy had possession of what she now knew to be her own body.

Suzy lunged at Quinn, bowling Quinn over onto her back, raining kisses all over her face as they both laughed.

Suzy stopped suddenly, giving Quinn an intense look. "Did you mean that?"

Quinn had to think for only a second to know what Suzy meant. "That I love you? Of course I meant it!"

Suzy laughed with delight. "I love you too!" She kissed Quinn hard on the lips, then began babbling, "I want to go out with you. Tonight! I want to dance with you! Is there an all-girl bar in town?"

She gave Quinn just enough time to say, "Here? I don't know, but there's one in Watney..."

"Can we go? Tonight? Can we dance? Do you know how to dance? I don't."

Quinn grinned. "We'll learn together." She pulled Suzy down for another kiss. Then she turned Suzy's head to whisper in her ear.

Suzy turned immediately back to her, her eyes and mouth both open wide. She shouted ecstatically, "YES!", then began another shower of kisses on Quinn's face.

Suzy jumped to her feet, pulling Quinn up by their bound hands. "Let's go find the scissors to get this tape off, and the key for these cuffs. But I'm not letting go of your hand anytime soon." With Suzy leading, because only she knew the way to the place she had hidden the keys and their clothes, they ran together through the woods.