An intricately braided bun - this is his first memory of her. Hair severely pulled back from a rather plain face, stark white doctors' coat hiding her body.

He shook his head to get his thought on the job at hand. It was his first emergency at the hospital and the rush of adrenaline had him in its grasp. He followed behind her, watching the bun bob with each quick, confident step. She pushed through a swinging door and he slipped in behind her, easing the door closed. He watched as she assessed the situation, her eyes taking in the prone patient and the two assistants by the metal table.

A white cover hid the wound and when she flipped up the sheet, he bit his lip to stifle a cry of revulsion. For the eight years in school and all of his training, he still hadn't been prepared for the pitiful sight before him.

A coyote had gotten a small cat and the owners brought the pet in, more dead than alive. A long ragged gash bared the tabby's intestines and in many places, the bones were plainly visible. She didn't even blink.

For the next hour she cleaned, cut, and sewed, the assistants obeying her soft orders with quiet efficiency. He helped where he could and observed at every other chance.

The mangled mess that had been brought in to the animal emergency hospital had been transformed into a whole cat, the even black sutures weaving an erratic line down the cat's belly. There were bald patches where the cat been shaven in order to close the gashes made by tooth and claw.

He glanced at her. A single curl had freed itself from the bun and looped around her eye. And there was a glow tinted with weariness in those eyes. She actually had a look of humanity on her face instead of the tightly controlled, professional facade that she constantly wore.

Nick now sat alone at a table in the lounge. He took advantage of the brief respite and relaxed in the hard chair, closing his eyes.

Across the room he could hear her voice, pleasantly high and clear. She was talking with two of the other emergency vets; their conversation drifted over in bits and pieces.

". . .still together?"

"No, he left on. . ."

"But I thought. . ."

". . .two years. I don't know what. . ."

". . .don't know how you work! And this surgery. . ."

Nick opened his eyes to the merest of slits and peeked at the three women. She was resting her forehead against her hands, her shoulders slumped. Her two friends had consoling arms across her back. She was the one who had just broken up!

He eased his eyes wider and then looked openly. The strong, impassive woman who had just successfully rescued a cat and had done major surgery a day before had disappeared. In her place was a broken hearted girl, all the self-assurance drained away.

Carefully, he eased out of the chair and acted as though he had just entered the room. He put on a bright smile and stepped to the somber table.

"You do beautiful work, Dr. Mantley. I've wanted to see you in action ever since you graduated a year ahead of our class. They're still talking about you, you know!" Nick tried to seem cheerful but not overpowering.

Stella Mantley looked at Nick and he saw the recognition in her eyes. And then he saw the impassiveness fall across her face like a curtain.

"Thank you," she said softly. Her voice was flat.

Nick hesitated. "Would you like to go for a cup of coffee?"

Her face became hard. "I'm still 'on-duty,' Dr. Conpierre. I couldn't-"

Nick laughed away the thought, hiding the fact that that was exactly what he had wanted. "I didn't mean now," he lied. "When do you get off?"

"In two hours."

"Done then!" Nick smiled. "Meet me at the cafe down the street?"

Stella nodded tersely and then abruptly left the room. Her forgotten colleagues sat at the table, unsure. Eventually one of them rose and followed Stella out the door, calling her name down the hall. The other, a Dr. Abbet if he remembered correctly, looked at Nick for awhile. Her mouth quirked into a grin.

"How long have you worked here, Dr. Conpierre?" she inquired.

"Just four days. Long enough to hear about her surgical talent and witness it first hand, though.

"I watched her all through vet school, especially that last year. She was a wonder there. . ." Nick trailed off, aware that the doctor was looking at him oddly. "What?"

"Let me give you a helpful hint about Stella. Don't play when it's time to work around her. She gets the job done as efficiently as possible and she still does it right.

"Besides, she just-" The woman paused, uncertain whether to share. "She just got over a long relationship. She might seem a little - distant. But, well, enjoy your coffee," she finished as she rose.

Nick was left standing alone in the lounge as Dr. Abbet left the room.

He chose a corner table with a view of the busy street and sat for fifteen minutes, watching for Stella Mantley. Finally, he saw her coming down the street, her figure dodging other pedestrians. She came in the door and he stood to flag her down.

As she walked toward him, he realized that she was probably younger than he was. She was always so serious though that she appeared much older. The braided bun she always wore while on-duty had been replaced by a simplistic clip, which only served to keep the hair off her face. The rest cascaded down her back, the curls so thick it was a mat.

Stella sat across from Nick and said, "Well, I'm here." Despite her changed appearance, she was still up tight and very wary.

Nick felt hurt and it showed on his face. "I didn't mean to pressure you into coming. It just looked like you needed a break." Nick shrugged. "Caffeine usually works for me."

The woman across from him sat still, peering into his eyes as if searching for untruths. With a deep sigh, Stella leaned back on the bench seat, glancing out the window.

"You're right, Dr. Conpierre-"

"Nick," he offered.

She said his name softly, to herself. "You're right, Nick. I do need a break. Between work and the break-" The waitress came then to take their orders.

When the coffees were placed on the table, Stella took a long drink and then cradled the cup in her hands. Nick watched the steam curl around her face.

"Why did you really ask me to coffee, Nick?" Stella turned her eyes on him and he sensed that she just wanted to hear him say it, although she had to know why.

"Like I said, I thought you could-"

Stella cut him off with a dismissive gesture.

Nick felt something akin to anger at her flat, disconnected attitude. "What happened to make you so callous?" he demanded harshly.

She looked startled at his outburst. He had always been laid back and jovial, making friends easily. He had tried to be nice and friendly to her. Some of his male colleagues laughed at his efforts, telling him that when she went from Stella to Dr. Mantley, all emotions were put on the back burner. He had been sure he could prove them wrong. . .

He watched her out of the corner of his eye, his focus her reflection in the window. Her head was down and her hands were toying with the half-full mug.

"I'm sorry, Nick," she apologized quietly. "I never meant to come off as callous. I've been a bit difficult this week. My two-year relationship just fell apart and. . ." Stella shrugged.

Nick shook his head. "I may have only been there for four days, but people who have worked there since you have say the same things." His anger was gone - regret took its place.

"I shouldn't have asked you to coffee. I see now it was a mistake. Thank you for humoring me," Nick said as he placed his money on the table. He slid out of the booth and got half way to the door before he heard his name.

Slowly he turned; she had risen from the seat and stepped toward him.

"I think I got us off on the wrong foot," she said demurely. Her face had softened and Nick though he detected a smile on her lips. "Would you take me to dinner, Dr. Conpierre?"

He studied her for a moment and then dipped his head in affirmation.

"It would be my pleasure, Dr. Mantley," he said somberly. "How's tomorrow?"

Stella smiled and it took Nick's breath away. "Tomorrow sounds great!" she exclaimed. She extended her hand and he took it.

"It's a date."

Nick pulled up to her house and almost ran to the door. Just as he was about to ring the bell, the door opened and Stella slipped out.

She was wearing a velvet skirt, which hung in folds to just above her knees. Her blouse was of a fine material and the sleeves hid her hands in voluminous cuffs. To Nick she looked stunning.

"What?" she asked with a smile and laughing eyes.

As she accepted his extended arm, he said, "It's like seeing you in a different light."