Sophie was on the computer, checking out her email and also reading the latest news. Warren was in the room, playing with Betsy.

"It got out," Sophie said with a grin.

"What did?"

"Ryan’s marriage. It’s in the news. ‘American Ice Dancer Ryan Killen married his lady love, Jessica Reidel, in a surprise ceremony in Las Vegas.’"

Warren laughed. "We’ll have to tell Jess she got her name in the paper."

"Yep," Sophie grinned. She read for a few more minutes, then burst out with, "Oh, wow!"

"What, Pookie?"

"The Westerlund burned down!"

"Really?" The Westerlund was an old, historic skating rink—attached to a hotel—in Colorado Springs. It’d been the center of US figure skating for many decades. Though it had lost its singular prominence, it was still a training center, and events were still occasionally held there.

"Yeah. Burned right to the ground. Doesn’t Chris train there?"

Christine Arsenault, Sophie meant. "No, she trains in Denver. She’s from Colorado Springs, but she trains in Denver."

"Oh. It says here all the skaters got out. Three firefighters died, though."

Warren looked up. "Oh, shit!"

"What?"

"Christine’s brother, and her new boyfriend, are Colorado Springs firefighters."

"Oh." Sophie looked at the screen. "One of the dead firefighters is David Arsenault."

"Aw, fuck. That’s her brother. Oh, poor Chris. He’s her big brother—she idolizes him."

"Damn. What’s her boyfriend’s name?"

"Ben something-or-other, I forget his last name."

"The other two weren’t named Ben."

"Well, that’s good." Warren took out his cel phone. "Hi, Chris? It’s Warren. We just heard." He talked to her for a while, then hung up. "She’s absolutely inconsolable," he told Sophie. "Completely devastated. One good thing—her boyfriend wasn’t on duty. He got called down there, of course, but it was pretty much over by then." Warren took a breath. "Apparently, her brother got four terrified young skaters out of the building—but the smoke overtook him before he could get out."

"Wow."

"Wow is right. He was 31. Left a wife and three small children." Sophie just hissed at that. "I know. Listen, Pookie, you’re on the computer—get us some airline tickets to Denver."

"Good idea."

They landed a few days later, and found a hotel. They then rented a car and drove to Colorado Springs. Ellen had kept Betsy for them—she was rather young to be attending a wake and a funeral.

They got into town just in time for the wake, and couldn’t believe the number of people lined up to get in. "Well, that makes sense," Sophie said. "Look at all the firefighters."

They got in line to pay their respects. When they got to the front of the line, Christine saw them, and broke down. "I can’t believe you two came all the way out here!"

"We had to," Warren said. "How are you holding up?"

"God, it’s just awful. Will you guys stick around until after?"

"Sure."

They did, and Jack Garrison and Liz Cushman had also come out, and they stayed as well. "Jason just started class, so he couldn’t come, but he wanted me to," Liz told them.

They all went out to a diner afterwards, where they met Christine’s boyfriend Ben.

"David was the one that took me under his wing when I first joined the department," Ben told him. "He showed me the ropes." Ben grinned at Chris. "Then he introduced me to his little sister." The grin disappeared. "And now he’s gone. I can hardly believe it."

"I don’t know what poor Janet’s going to do," Chris said. "She’s 30 years old, with three kids under the age of 8, and now she’s a widow. My little niece is one year old. She’ll never know her Daddy." Christine started to sob at that. Ben wrapped his arm around her.

"I enjoy being a firefighter, but this is the downside," Ben said. "It could happen to any of us."

"And that scares the shit out of me," Christine admitted.

"I know it does," Ben agreed. "You think it doesn’t scare me? But think of it, Chris. You knew your brother better than I did. He got four young girls out of that burning building. He paid the price, but he got them out. He would’ve wanted it that way, and we both know it."

"I know," Chris agreed. "Sometimes, that’s the only thing that keeps me going, knowing that."

Ben turned to the rest of them with a slight smile. "I got a baby out, about a year ago. Cute little thing, only about six months old. The mother was out in the yard when the house went up. The poor woman was hysterical that she couldn’t get back in and get her baby. I got her. She had some smoke inhalation—but she’s fine now, I’ve kept in contact. The thing is—when you’re going in to get someone out, you don’t think about yourself. You just don’t. Not until the person you’re trying to get is out and safe. Then you think of yourself. David just didn’t have time."

"I understand that," Chris said, "but it’s not just yourself. That’s the problem. It’s the people outside waiting for you. Not me, so much—I had 24 wonderful years with my big brother and I’ll always cherish them. But Stephanie, my niece, had one lousy year with her Daddy. Because he wasn’t thinking about himself, he wasn’t thinking about her. And I know that’s horrible. Believe me, I know it. It’s very selfish."

"Hey," Warren said, putting his hand on hers, "we’re all selfish at times. It’s only natural."

They stayed until the funeral, two days later.

Afterwards, Christine stopped them. "You guys are going to be here in three weeks, aren’t you? For the pro-am in Denver?"

"Yes."

"Good. I’ll see you there. Yes, I’m skating in it. David would’ve wanted me to."

When they got home, Warren and Sophia had an idea. "I think we need to skate something special in Denver," Warren told Sophia.

"I think you’re right. Any idea?"

Warren did have an idea. They had only a short time to work on it, but they pulled it off.

Christine met them when they got into their hotel room in Denver. "I don’t know how to thank you guys for coming to the funeral. That was above and beyond."

"We’re friends," Warren told her. "How are you holding up?"

"Better. It hurts, and I’ll miss him forever, but it’s better. Poor Ben’s really shook up about it."

"Really?"

"He’s going to take classes to become an EMT. He can do that, the Fire Department runs the ambulances. He says he wants to save lives without putting himself in danger. It’s really spooked him. I told him to think about it, but he will, anyway—the EMT classes take a while. So, he can think about it while he’s taking the classes. And having EMT certification can’t hurt, even if he decides to stay a firefighter." Chris smiled a little bit. "And he asked me to move in with him."

"Are you going to?" Warren grinned.

"Yeah. I think he’s gearing up for a proposal—but, for now, he wants me to move in. I’m thrilled."

"Excellent. Are you skating something special?"

"Yes. Wind Beneath My Wings. It’s a cliché, I know, but it really is true. Except for my parents, David was my biggest booster. He was so proud of his skating little sister, you have no idea. He got me through some of the tough moments when we were younger. It just seemed like an appropriate song. And Janet and the kids are going to be here, plus half of the fire department."

"Good," Warren said, not revealing their own plans.

Even with Warren and Sophie’s success, ice dancing, in the USA, was still the runt of the litter as far as figure skating went. So, while there were 7 or 8 singles skaters at the American Pro-Am, and 6 pairs teams, there were only 4 dance teams. Besides the Kellehers, the other eligible team was Brenneman and Watts, the British couple. From the professional ranks came Nicholas and Coleman, and Bradochkina and Zhargov.

Warren and Sophia hadn’t seen Olga Bradochkina in some time, and were glad to see her again. "Darlings," she said as she saw them, "how are you?"

"Not bad, Olga, and yourself?" Warren asked.

"Marvelous. How is knee, all better?"

"All better."

"Good. I expect gold medal this year!"

"That’s what we’re shooting for!"

Warren and Sophia enjoyed meeting up with their old friends, and getting back on the ice.

They did the rhythmic program they had planned, the Beach Boys medley of Catch A Wave and Fun Fun Fun. It was fun and difficult, and it went over well, and they ended that part of the competition in first place.

The interpretive program was where they did their tribute to their friend’s brother. Christine, who’d skate her interpretive program later in the night, was in the stands watching.

They came out in all black. And they had picked an appropriate piece of music. Despite Warren’s joking about "going to the Springsteen well again," it really was the only choice—Springsteen’s impassioned Into The Fire. Written about the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center, it still worked as a tribute to all firefighters and rescue workers.

Warren and Sophie’s program was understated, but still intense. It was also very beautiful and evocative. They’d done a remarkable job on it in a couple of short weeks.

When they were done, they received a standing ovation. Plus a hug in the kiss-and-cry from a very emotional Christine.

They didn’t even think of winning. There was no time limit on an interpretive program in a pro-am, but there was a minimum: three and a half minutes. Into The Fire was slightly over five, it was slow-building, and they didn’t even touch until over a minute into the program. Despite all that, they won.

Being interviewed afterwards, they commented that it was an emotional program meant as a tribute. "We didn’t even try to win, that wasn’t the point." Warren said.

"Well, you must be glad of the victory anyway," the interviewer said.

"Yes, but only because of the prize money. And only because we’re not keeping it," Sophia told the interviewer, plus the TV audience.

"David Arsenault left three small children," Warren continued. "There is a scholarship fund set up for them. For information, contact the Colorado Springs Fire Department, they have all the information. Our first-place check for this competition will be signed over to that scholarship fund."

After the competition was over—and Christine had won the ladies’, leading Liz Cushman to remark that she’d never been happier to lose in her life—Warren and Sophia went to the competitor’s party. There, they were able to meet Janet, David’s widow, and the three children. Janet hadn’t heard what they had said, and was flabbergasted to be handed the check. "And we put out an appeal when we were interviewed, so hopefully there will be more," Sophia told her.

"I can’t believe this," Janet said.

Christine was sniffly. "You know, they always say, when the chips are down, you find out who your friends are."

"Always," Warren smiled at her.