When she'd arrived, it was to find the place inundated with patients from a massive fire at a club located in the warehouse district. Miranda's hospital had been swarmed with casualties from patrons, employees and several fire-fighters who'd been trapped when a section of the building had collapsed with them inside.

She'd spent the next ten hours in surgery, working two different cases. The first had been a young man whose chest had been crushed when panic had ensued and he'd been trampled by those trying to escape. He hadn't made it, and Miranda had watched through a glass window as the doctor informed the family of their son's death. The mother had collapsed in her husband's arms, crying for her baby boy. Her wails could be heard outside the closed room and the sound of her anguish had torn Miranda's heart in two.

Later, the other case had managed to stitch part of the edges back together. Miranda had been part of team that had worked on a young woman, who'd started to haemorrhage after going into early labour when the restaurant, next door to the club, had been evacuated. They'd managed to not only save the mother's life, but her son as well. The baby was born at thirty weeks gestation and would have an extended stay in the neonatal intensive care unit, but mother and fathers couldn't have been happier. That last little bit had thrown Miranda for a loop. At first when she'd stood with the surgeon to impart the happy news, she'd assumed the man standing with the woman's husband was a friend, but it turned out he was actually the couple's partner.

As Miranda had later prepared to leave, she'd walked by the woman's room, unable to get the threesome off her mind. It may have not been the most professional behaviour on record, but she couldn't help but stare in fascination as the two men hugged and kissed each other while sitting next to their wife's bed. Her hand had been secured between theirs, and even through the sedating effect of lingering drugs in the woman's system, the love she shared for her two men had been obvious.

Miranda had never had much exposure to anyone who was gay, and had been a little shocked by the tingle that went through her while she watched the two men kiss. Knowing that those men also made love to the woman, maybe even at the same time, had caused Miranda to clinch her muscles below as she felt moisture seep from her folds.

Miranda jolted back to the present as she realised she had almost missed her turn into Sheridan, she'd been so caught up in the memory of watching the family celebrate their good fortunes earlier. She made sure to pay closer attention as she continued to wind through town. It was three in the afternoon and traffic was busy with early commuters and carpools making their way home from school.

Finally Miranda pulled into a parking space outside of her condo complex. The green grass and flowering trees were bright against the aged red brick and brownstone facade. She'd been lucky to find a spot right outside her building. Maybe that meant good fortunes for the rest of the day. After shutting off her engine, she gathered her purse and slowly made her way down the sidewalk towards the iron gate enclosing the courtyard in the centre of the buildings, from which all entrances were reached. It seemed now that she was home, exhaustion hit her as if it were a tsunami. All she wanted to do was climb in bed and sleep for at least a few hours. Maybe Drew would let her nap till it was time to make dinner. She carefully slid the key into the lock of the gate. It seemed to take all her strength to twist the little piece of metal.

Their condo was on the first floor of the north building. Miranda made her way inside the building then unlocked the front door. When she pushed it open, she knew immediately that Drew wasn't home. She felt a little guilty at how relieved that made her. She carefully hung her jacket and purse in the closet beside the door. A few more steps and she was in the living room. As she looked around, unbidden tears came to her eyes. There were magazines littering the floor, and a pile of clothes scattered all over the floor between the living room and kitchen. It looked as though a tornado had been through their place, with the cushions of the sofa strewn all over the place, and the rug scrounged up in front of the entertainment centre.