Mary sat in her room in the hospital, waiting for her next patient. It was her winter break, so she spent the whole day in her special room at the hospital healing the people sent to her mostly from the ER.

Her next patient walked into the room a little surprised at the darkness that his eyes weren't quite accustomed to yet. He was young and had a broken arm and clavicle according to the paperwork she had received only moments before he had walked in. He looked confused as he stood in the doorway to the darkly lit room. Mary motioned for the young man come inside and lay down on the mat just in front of the one she was sitting on.

"What are you going to do to me?" he asked after getting settled on his mat and looking around. His voice sounded quite familiar to Mary.

"You'll see. Now what's your name?" Mary asked him looking over the x-rays that they had done before sending him into Mary. She usually liked to strike up conversations with the patients because it relaxed them. Besides, it's always unnerving for a stranger to know your name, even if they got it from paperwork. She never liked to look at the personal records of the person, especially if she knew them, only their medical condition, which was on the second page.

"Didn't they tell you? . . . Aren't you a little young to be a doctor?" he asked in a slightly surprised voice.

"I'm not a doctor, now, what's your name?"

"Stephen Harvey." At that Mary practically dropped her clip board and pen as she blushed furiously, very thankful in that moment the lights were dim.

"Are you okay?" he asked slightly alarmed at the sudden movement.

"I . . . I know you from school."

"You do? Then who are you?"

"I'm Mary. Mary Sinclair."

"Really? I couldn't tell who you were with the dim lights? What are you doing in a hospital? Shouldn't you be enjoying the break?"

"This is what I do. I help the hospital with their injured people."

"So how do you do it?"

"Well before I tell you that, which do you prefer: cold or warm water?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It means everything. Now, cold or warm?"

"Warm." Mary stuck her hand out and a flame came to life right above her hand. Stephen jumped up to his feet and flew to the far corner of the room.

"Come back," Mary said, "you'll break something else. I also need you to take off your shirt."

"Why do I have to do that?" said Stephen as he came back slowly and cautiously. Mary picked up a bowl from behind her, placed it on her right, and put her hand over the bowl that was filled with water. The water rose according to Mary's hand movements.

"I can't heal you unless you take your shirt off." She manipulated the water above the fire and waiting. When she was satisfied, she let the flame go out and watched as Stephen tried to get his shirt off.

When he failed miserably because of the pain of his broken bones, she asked, "Do you need some help?" He frowned sheepishly in response but hesitantly nodded his head.

Mary motioned for him to sit down on the mat in front of her. She carefully grabbed the hem of his shirt and started to slide it up his torso. Stephen lifted his arms, grimacing in pain. Mary stopped.

"I'm hurting you," she said looking at his face contorted in pain.

"It's nothing," he managed to say through his clenched teeth. Mary could tell that he was in pain but didn't want to say anything; she had to do something to keep him distracted from the pain. Mary took up the hem of the shirt again, but this time, she only used one hand to bring it up Stephen's torso. She used the other to lightly stroke and massage the skin that was revealed each time the shirt was pulled higher causing goose bumps to form along his skin. He seemed distracted enough, but still in pain. She decided she would just have to take it off quickly, much like a band-aid. Stephen hissed through his teeth in pain as the shirt was laid by the mat.

"Now," she said, "you have to lay down and stay still. This might take a while."

Stephen laid back down on the mat, still trying to get over the pain along his chest. Mary had to reheat the water in the bowl, but soon Mary was able to manipulated the water over Stephen's chest, neck and arm. He looking concerned as the water wrapped around his torso, and Stephen's eyes got wide as the water started to glow. Slowly he relaxed to the feel of the water and Mary's hands on his skin.

This part of all of her treatments always relaxed her, despite the fact that her patients were profusely flustered at this unorthodox healing technique. She could feel the bones begin to heal themselves, line up properly, and settle in Stephen's chest.

"You can sit up now," said Mary after the glowing subsided. Mary returned the water to the bowl beside her, and began to fill out the rest of the paper work so that Stephen could leave and get back to enjoying his break.

"What did you do?"

"I healed you."

"But . . . how?"

"Simple. Your arm and clavicle were broken. I placed water on them, and they healed."

"But that doesn't happen with normal water."

"Of course not. It takes a healer to do it properly," she explained.

"Oh," Stephen said, though he was still thoroughly confused.

"You'll need to stretch slowly. Then I have to massage you so that I can make sure all your nerves are working properly. I can't let you out until you can move around as usual."

Stephen stretched his arm. He was still stiff and found it hard at first. There was a very awkward silence between them as Mary waited for Stephen to finish so she could massage him.

When Stephen was done stretching, she patted the mat so that he could lay down. As soon as he was settled, she grabbed some lotion from behind her, spread it over her hands, and began to massage his chest. She kneaded the recently healed skin, reveling in the softness of it while Stephen closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her hands on his skin. All too soon, Mary had to stop.

"You know, most of the kids that go to Oaks, that I treat, want their memory stripped, or at least their parents do. So . . . it's up to you really," Mary said awkwardly watching Stephen sit up.

"I don't think I want my memory swiped just yet," he said moving closer and closer to Mary's mat with each word. Mary hadn't realized this; she was cleaning up her space to fill in the awkward silence between them.

When she looked up, she found their faces inches away. Stephen leaded in slowly.

"Just tell me if you want me to stop." he whispered, inches from her face. He continued to lean in. His lips finally reached Mary's in a tender kiss. Slowly, Mary wrapped her arms around Stephen's neck while he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. Stephen's lips moved across Mary's as he reveled in the silkiness of them. He pulled apart a little too soon for both of them, but they both realized that Stephen had to go.

"I'll see you soon, Stephen," Mary said as they both got up from the mats blushing. Stephen pulled her in for a hug.

"I'll see you soon," he whispered into her hair before planting a small kiss onto her temple and leaving the room.