Alex made it to his club just before eight. Opening the doors, he went straight to the back into his private office, which was nothing more than a glorified closet with a bed where he sometimes sacked out, a desk, a phone and his computer. Picking up the phone he made the calls. He had a lot to do before noon and little time to do it in. Calling Jimmy and Freddie he put the wheels in motion.

They showed up by ten and Alex walked the security firm specialist through his club. All the darkened spots needed low wall lighting to better illuminate the dim areas for the cameras, without making the club too bright. The front door was covered with a series of new cameras hooked to a central computer core where any frame could be frozen and stored like a photo.

“Jimmy, who’s on the door tonight?”

“Jack and Les.”

Alex nodded. He looked at the time and swore. He needed to get home and get changed. “Okay train them on the new equipment. I want everyone entering the club to stop and smile for the camera - unknowingly. They must look in that direction.” Alex pointed a stop on the club’s wall. “I don’t care how you do it. Put up a chalk board with a frickin’ opinion poll on sexual positions, but get each person entering the door to look at the board and give an answer. Tell them there's a door prize later and distribute tickets or something.”

“Door prize?” Alex just shrugged. Yeah totally lame, like some damn straight party. But he needed those pictures since the killer was able to enter and hide. When he saw the man’s eyes, he would know. It would take him being on the prowl and not in his dormant demeanor, but Alex would know him.

“Just get it done. I’ve got a meeting. Have all the security people out and call my cell if you need me. I’ll be back no later than two.”

“Alex! Alex, what's the prize?”

“Their lives.” Alex walked away.

~~~

Julia entered her house after early morning church services. Her mother wanted her to stay for lunch or at least noon tea, but Julia had three briefs to review for the following day and really couldn’t spare the time. She liked early morning church because it left the day open and free.

Staring in her refrigerator, Julia frowned at the yogurt and some brown wilting lettuce left over from a burst of domestic energy that resulted in her making salad. Basically...she could microwave. Mostly things like TV dinners, popcorn and restaurant leftovers. She had discovered chicken tenders a long time ago and learned to heat them as well.

Okay, delivery it was. Pizza would be good. She could live on the carbohydrates for a long time. Remembering last night’s reception and the piles of food, for a moment she wished she had brought some home. Those hot wings had been awesome served with a cool buttermilk bleu cheese dressing. Okay maybe she’d make a trip to see the Colonel for a bucket of his best.

Running upstairs to change, she rushed into the bathroom and stripped. Showering quickly, she went to hang up her clothes and sort her laundry for the next day’s trip to the dry cleaners. Putting on a soft sweater dress that was old and worn, she looked for a pair of light shoes or slippers to wear around the house. As she leaned down it was the wrongness that caught her eye, first through the veil of her sweeping hair as she bent over slipping on her shoe.

Slowly raising, Julia walked towards her bed. She was one of those compulsive people who aired her bed and later came back to make it. The covers weren’t drawn back as they should have been, but were covering a lump. Reaching out a cautious hand, she pulled the covers back to the open-eyed blank stare of Jason Rubio.

Stepping back in fear, all she could see was the large sickly smile on his face, but it wasn’t his mouth that was smiling. It was the grotesque slice across his neck, opening up his throat into a red bleeding mouth almost screaming in horror. And that was what she did.

She barely made the bathroom as she vomited for what felt like hours. Rinsing her mouth, she couldn’t see straight. The room felt like a blur, and the sweat was prickling on her skin as black spots danced before her eyes. She wouldn’t faint, dammit. She wouldn’t!

Suddenly she went still as the hair on her skin stood up into goosebumps. The silence of her home suddenly seemed too still. It felt like someone was still there. Rushing into her bedroom, she grabbed her phone from her bedside table, and hit the autodial number 666. She had programmed Sean DeLuca’s phone number in her memory with the number of the Devil’s highway last weekend when she called him a hundred times.

As the phone rang, she whispered to herself, "Pickup, pickup, pickup, you worthless sh-it!" The beginnings of pure terror and her flight response sent her rushing towards the closet. Sitting inside, she put her head between her knees and prayed. Where the hell was her cat? Ms. Fluffy?

“This is Sean, leave a message, and if I’m not tied up or in jail, I’ll call you…...” No! No! No! Julia could feel the movement of the house shifting.

“Yeah…” Sean’s voice came over the line, breathless like he had run a long distance. In fact, he just walked in the door from his morning run. Totally against medical orders, hurt like hell, but after seeing his family off, he needed it. He liked to think he was running from God and salvation, but in the early mornings when it was nothing but him and the hard pavement slapping against his feet, it was almost the only time that he felt close to redemption. He started the day by unlocking Michael, then brunch, and then a quick Family send-off just before eleven, followed by the run when he came home.

“Sean.” He frowned at the low tone barely audible, a husky whisper. Frowning he concentrated and realized who the caller was.

“Julia? Mac, can’t hear you. You need to talk louder.”

Her voice rose, but just barely and in sheer panic. “I found Jason Rubio.”

Great. He knew that he was going to hunt down her missing suspect, so that solved a problem for him. “Good...”

“He’s in my bed.”

Sean frowned at that. He tried to concentrate on what she was saying because her voice remained barely louder than a whisper. He had to have misunderstood. What? “Counselor, I think the judge will frown on the Counselor for the Prosecution sleeping with the accused.”

“Big Sleep, his…not mine...” she didn’t say ‘yet’, but she could have. “Sean,...someone’s in the house.” The line went dead.

Sean looked at the phone, and suddenly what she said in the low panicky tones made sense. Dead. Someone was in her house with a dead Jason Rubio. He tossed down his phone, grabbed his gun and ran. Dammit, Mac, don’t you die! He wanted that pleasure for himself, killing her for scaring ten years off his life.

He hit his lights and siren all the way across town, calling in full backup from his partners and rolling units. He still beat the units. Cutting his siren half a block from her drive, he stopped his car and left the door wide open with the lights still going. Trying the door, it was locked. He kicked it in and slowly advanced, creeping into the silent house.

He made his way up the stairs slowly and cautiously. Ideally he should’ve cleared the bottom floor before going upstairs, but his instinct told him to start with the body in Julia’s bed and work outward. He wanted to call her name, but was afraid that she would respond and give away her location. Pausing silently on the stairs, he cleared his mind and concentrated. He sensed movement to the left along the upper landing, a shifting upstairs and a sound below him. Cautiously he moved to the crime scene, her bedroom. She would pigeon in the first small space. Under a cupboard or closet, but not near the bed.

Sean felt the movement of an air current before hearing the actual popping sound. Quickly ducking down, he heard the impact of the bullet hitting the wall above his head. Silencer. 9mm, loaded with explosive head. Without turning, but concentrating on the trajectory, he returned fire towards the sound. He had a fifty-fifty chance of the prey leading to the left or right of the original position. He chose left for the devil and led it by half a foot. Shooting blind, he heard the sound of a body dropping. That took care of the sound from below. So that left the sound in the upper landing and to the left.

He continued up the stairs and searched the dark carpeted hall, the carpet muffling the sound of his steps. Master bedroom, end of hall, but four doors between. Moving in a slow motion along the wall, he methodically searched each room. It was the bitterness that hit him first, the stalker’s sweat. Inexperienced. This hunter was almost wasted in his own lactic acid wash of anticipation, fear and general anxiety. It was making his breath come in gasping sounds as he tried to keep it under control.

Sean’s breathing was worse. He had just jogged against medical advice and almost pushed his ribs back into his lungs, but he knew that concentration and deep slow breaths through the nose and out of the mouth would even his pulse to a slow beat and calm his body.

He felt the swinging of the arm in a downward motion, and leading under it, he grabbed the arm, moved and pivoted out of the way. Then he helped the arm continue downward, until his would-be assailant’s knife found its purchase in his own gut. Sean leaned in and pushed the knife into the man hard. They stared at each other in silence and Sean watched life seep from the unknown man’s eyes as they became opaque and dead. Then he stepped back and watched the man slide down the wall.

Moving quicker now, he entered the master bedroom. He could smell vomit and bile, and an increasing smell of fear. Looking at the corpse, he nodded to himself. Yeah, that was Rubio with two mouths. The cross cut was sloppy. The murderer had rushed the blade and left a deeper penetrating cut at the left and shallower as it rushed to the right. Right handed, just like his would-be killer with the knife in the spare bedroom.

Closet. She was in the closet. He opened it and saw her cringe from the light. Making a soft noise in his throat, he coaxed her head up from her knees and saw the white knuckled grip she had on the phone.

“Julia,” he said softly. “Julia, it’s Sean.” He reached in and touched her, and her body flinched. Taking her into his arms he pulled her close and watched her eyes lose their faraway pinpoint look. She was shaking apart with the fear.

“Sean.” Her arms went around his neck almost too tight, cutting his air supply, but he didn’t complain. She whimpered against him for a second and then finally broke down with full body sobs wracking her frame.

He kissed her forehead, and held her firmly, making soothing noises and keeping his body between hers and the corpse in her bed. It was a sound from below that alerted him again. Holding a hand over her mouth, he gestured for her to be quiet as he reached on the floor for his gun he sat there when he took her in his arms.

Turning in one smooth motion, he pointed the gun straight at Michael Guerin who stood in the door holding his gun on him. Damn it was so familiar, looking at Guerin from down a gun barrel.

“Put it down, Miko.” Michael nodded and holstered his piece.

“I found two. Your work?”

“Yeah.”

“Nice.” Michael moved towards the bed and looked at the corpse. “They deposited it a while ago. They stayed to watch the party.”

Julia finally understood that. They had put the body in the bed and then stayed to see her reaction. Suddenly it hit her. They were there since she entered her house. They watched her as she stripped and showered, and then dressed under their eyes. In a flash she pushed Sean away from her hard and ran back in the bathroom to throw up some more. At that moment Kyle entered the room with Max and then held back. They had cleared the house, and forensics and CSI were on their way.

Sean and Michael shared a look. A present from Pierce was never that easy. He didn’t just like to leave the present, but wanted a memento in return. The last person receiving a present from him lost an eye. Sean clinched his teeth, as the muscles in his jaw spasmed. What if he hadn’t made it in time? What if she left the bedroom and walked right into the waiting arms of the hiding killers?

Julia was back at the door, suddenly highly agitated. “I can’t be here. I can’t.”

Sean couldn’t catch her before she took flight out of the room, and down the stairs. He could feel the fluttering of her heart as she rushed passed him.

“Michael?”

“I got it. Go.” Sean looked at his partner, Kyle who just nodded. He would call for a cleaning crew. Sean rushed down the stairs and followed her out of the house. She was gone. It took him ten minutes to track her down in a playground sitting in a swing. The skies had been overcast earlier, but now they opened up and rained down on her, on both of them.

“Julia.” She didn’t talk. He reached down and pulled her against him and slowly walked her home. Sean tried to lead her back into her house, but her whole body stiffened. Instead, he opened his passenger car door and put her in out of the rain. Going to the other side, he got into the car and drove them away from the chaos.

Five minutes later, thoroughly drenched and chilled to the bone, they pulled into the garage of the Sean's building. He glanced sideways at the forlorn Julia beside him, an evil chuckle of his own rumbling up from his diaphragm. She looked like a drowned rat, but he had more sense than to mention it to her. The shock was slowly wearing off and he knew anger would soon replace it.

"It's not funny, dammit! I’m not having a good day!" she could barely get the words out, her teeth were chattering so furiously. She seemed to understand the chuckle, and if there was going to be hell to pay, it was going to pay in spades.

"Let's go in and get dry. I may even cook dinner." he kidded her, jostling his shoulder against hers before sloshing out of the car.

"Can't we just send out for something?" she pleaded, remembering the fiasco of the last time he made her feel obligated to him. He wasn’t above blackmail, and Julia wasn’t feeling like playing. "This place is too nice for you to burn down, and you’ll no doubt blame me for it." Sean was just happy to see her talking again, with a touch of the old fire.

Sean held the door for Julia, closing and locking it habitually after she had entered. The keys went into a special bowl sitting next to the door as he passed, calling out behind him, "Just wait here for a second and I'll get some towels so we don't drip all over the place."

She watched as he pulled his sweatshirt over his head, the soggy grey material sliding over his well-defined muscles with some reluctance, as if it longed to remain in contact with his body. She let her eyes run over his form noting the bruises and barely healed abrasions. Some how it just emphasized his masculinity, and Julia looked around helplessly. This was a mistake.

Letting out a deep sigh she looked around the apartment. It was nice. Small and easily taken care of by a man that had too many other things on his mind, the place had a nice sense of clutter. Absentmindedly she picked up the discarded wet shirt he tossed and ran her hand across the garment, it was still warm where his chest had filled it so prominently mere heartbeats ago. Dropping it almost as if it burned, she turned away. This was a terrible idea. She turned away from it and looked at the door he went through as he disappeared from her sight, thinking that it would do her well to follow his lead and remove her water-laden outer clothing.

Julia put her hands to her head and clutched herself for a moment. Why, oh, why did I ever go out with this guy? I must have been out of my mind! Blackmail or not, he had been a total pain to get out of her head. When she walked into that room...saw what was left...she stopped thinking. Her first and only instinct was to call him, call her detective, and he would make it go away. Oh god. Julia looked around the room hoping to spy something, anything resembling hard liquor. The shakes in her body started deep inside and she stood in a puddle hugging herself.

Sean rummaged through the top drawer of his dresser, tossing socks and plaid boxers on its unvarnished surface. A t-shirt, one that was actually too small for him-Parker's or some other woman’s--joined the small pile of dry clothing. Grabbing clean towels from the special linen closet in his bathroom, he trotted back down the hall only to pull up short at the sight before him.

Like some ragged fairytale heroine, she stood in a slowly expanding puddle of water, The stark contrast created by her liquid-darkened hair plastered against her creamy flesh, with rivulets streaming freely wherever it touched, made her seem all the more pathetic, defenseless and in need of protection. Then she looked at him and his breath stopped in his throat. Her eyes were hot, dancing with fire of anger and he could see the nervous tick in her hand as she methodically rubbed her own arms trying to get warm. This wasn’t a woman who liked to feel defenseless or vulnerable. She needed to be in control, and today that had been ripped from her. She was holding the anger inside with difficulty.

“So...I had this joke I was going to tell you last night at the wedding, just to put you at ease, get you to lighten up and take the party as a fun event and not some obligation or a mercy date.” Sean said he tossed towels on the floor to mop up the water before it became a slippery death trap.

“That wasn’t my fault. You put it at that level, not me.”

“I know,” he said softly. Placing the clothes down on the sofa’s back and taking off his own shoes, he looked up at her from where he was untying them. “Want to hear it?” She bent down and pulled off her shoes as well and looked at him suspiciously, almost accusingly, expecting him to take the opportunity to steal more of her footwear. That was so unfair. He had given her other one back last night. Although those shoes did nice things for her legs.

“Well it’s called, You Gotta Love Texan Girls. ” Sean snickered under his breath as he watched her eyes narrow waiting for a slight against her and her Texas origin. Sean tossed her a towel and she started rubbing the moisture from her hair and just shrugged.

He brought a towel around her shoulders and unthinkingly pulling her to him. “A girl from Texas and a girl from the east coast were seated side by side on an airplane. The girl from Texas, being friendly and all, said: "So, where y'all from?" And the east coast girl said: "From a place where they know better than to use a preposition at the end of a sentence." The girl from Texas sat quietly for a few moments and then replied: "So, where y'all from, bitch?"

Sean smiled at the chuckle coming from the head just a little below his. She was standing in her bare feet on a towel that soaked up the water. She was a tall woman, but her bones were delicate and finely crafted. He could feel them beneath his hands as he rubbed the towel over her. A sudden sneeze startled him from his reverie and he stepped away from her cold, shivering form.

"Why don't you take a hot shower while I get a fire and dinner going?" He turned away quickly, not wanting her to see his obvious arousal. Had she always smelled so alluring? "I put some things on the back of the sofa for you to change into. They might be a bit big."

"Thanks, Detective." she said quietly trying to keep some professional distance between them, but the heat of his body lingered, making her ache for more. Gathering up the clothes he placed on the back of the sofa, she went down the hall following his instructions. She stepped into the bathroom and removed the rest of her clothing. Climbing into the shower, she allowed herself a fleeting glimpse of what it might be like to feel that body a little closer, a little longer. As her bones thawed, her resolve solidified. She was going to use his damn shampoo and wash that sneaky, conniving, too charming for his own skin man out of her traitorous head!

He listened to the sound of the shower starting and imagined the spray of steamy water caressing her body. Closing his eyes for a moment wishing his hands could be so lucky, he gave himself a mental shake. He wasn’t using this situation to get her into his bed because it smelt too much like him taking advantage of an opportunity. He was going to get her dry, feed her and keep her warm while her place was processed and the cleaning crew he called got it clean of all the fingerprinting dust and restored her home to its normal order. They'd better call soon, because he wasn’t noted for being a strong man when it came to his desire for gratification. Actually he bordered on gluttonous. Sean grabbed the small pad of paper he now kept close at hand to jot down a note to ask his therapist about that. That damn therapist was going to take away all the fun things Sean liked to do in his life. Bastard.

The fire crackled in the grate, dispelling the clammy atmosphere the apartment had taken on from the unexpected and unusual rain, and Sean took his phone and hit the speed dial on his way to his bedroom. The store that delivered his groceries promised to get him what he needed quickly. Sean never kept too much food on hand since sometimes an entire week of hanging from a meat hook could go by, and he was left trying to delouse and clean his refrigerator.

He changed quickly, eager to be dry and in the kitchen, hoping the actions of preparing food would distract him and ease the pressure in his groin. With each passing moment, his fascination with the prickly ADA Mac intensified until, at last, he could no longer grasp a utensil without his hand shaking with desire. Aw, sh-it. Sean looked at his phone and suddenly wished his mother was still around. He could’ve called her, and all those female family members would have descended on him like the plague with good chaperoning intentions, frustrating him to hell, but still keeping him from doing something wrong.

Sean put a large pasta pot on the stove, quickly preparing what little food he did have in house as he waited for his delivery. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and collapsed into the large, pale mohair chair that was his favorite comfy seat, lurking in the corner of his living room. He leaned his head back, letting the swig of beer he'd taken trickle down his throat. Eyes closed, he thought about ADA Mac rubbing soap across her slick wet body. Not just any soap. His soap. Sean smiled to himself and decided to let his thoughts have free reign. That damn therapist should have to work hard for the money he charged.

The bastard was right. He had told Sean that he was living an unexamined life. Going about his everyday routine doing and saying the things he wanted to do and say, without really looking at the reasons he did and said them.

Men. He liked men. Actually not all the time, but at times. It was rarely about sex, and more about power and giving it up. They didn’t have to be bigger than he was or even stronger, just more dominant. Sean only searched for a man’s company when he was feeling a certain way inside. The therapist would call it self-destructive, but Sean really knew what it was. It was pain. Unshakeable pain.

This world was short on mercy and long on hunger, and walking in it day by day, seeing the hollow eyes of the victims of a cold uncaring world, he felt nothing but pain. Strong men had strong arms and tight hugs. They felt like they could hold his insides together. He liked just resting for a moment and feeling like his partner could keep watch while he broke down.

Then there were women. He liked everything about them. Everything. The smell that was somehow intriguing and gentle, the softness of their skin, the way they looked and the soft curves of their bodies. To Sean, men meant hard unyielding sex, a reprieve from being on guard and controlled. Women...they were everything else. But over the years he had shifted his desire for women towards a stronger creature. A woman that was dominant and unyielding in her beliefs, able to control and yet gentle enough to let him take care of her. He was looking for a mate, a female that encompassed all the things he searched for in male lovers with all the things he needed in a woman.

Sean sat straight in his chair quickly swallowing the mouthful of beer he almost spewed across the room. He wanted a version of Michael Guerin and Liz Parker! Sean could see the two, and the mixing of their features into something horrific. Damn, that just took all the fire out of his blood, and softened him. He’d be lucky if the very thought didn’t leave him impotent. He wanted someone strong like Michael who could be strong when Sean needed to be weak, someone he could count on to watch his back and not break. On the other hand he also needed someone softer and more vulnerable, someone he could protect and be strong for, someone that would let him be who he was. Sean just sat back again and closed his eyes. He was going to be alone for the rest of his life. Once you knew what you wanted, there was no going back or settling for less.

Michael had found that with Maria. She was strong enough to hold him, take care of him. She was the only person he ever let himself be completely open and vulnerable to, and she never used it against him. And she needed him equally. There were places in Maria that still hid in the closet with nightmares that overwhelmed her. Outwardly she became a hyperactive, over-charged maniac running from her own skin. Michael just calmly let her rage until he couldn’t take it anymore, then he just held her shaking body until all the fight drained away. They stood toe to toe arguing every point and piece of ground in their relationship. Then too angry to talk, they both went off and sulked and brooded until they found a sort of compromise. Once back together they took each other's solution and created a joint compromise that both could happily live with, and then they moved on to the next battle. Their entire life together was the battle to keep their own special identity without becoming overwhelmed by the other, because it was too easy for them to lose themselves in the other. As far as Sean could tell, they were fast melding into one person, and he let the envy of it eat at him for a moment or two.

ADA Mac. That’s what attracted him to her. Her fire, her strong resolve, her ability to throw her shoe at him. Liz Parker would have just taken it and never said a word, and Michael would have beaten him to pulp. Mac just spit in his eye, breathed fire, but somehow was feminine enough to feel overwhelmed by him, to let him kiss the stuffing out of her in an elevator. And when she was frightened and in need, she called him. She called.

His mind, holding on to that exquisite first look, wafted back into the present, melding with and strengthening the undeniable attraction he felt for Julia. Seeing it for what it was, seeing her as his tower scaled, Sean bit back a curse. It was too soon. He had no time, no preparation for her being in his life. Unknowingly, he whispered her name aloud.

“Yes?” Her voice startled him. It’s soft accented lilt hit him like a ton of bricks, and seeing her still wet hair clinging to the curve of her neck, the warm scented smells of her shower, and the gentle sweep of her eyelashes on her cheek as she blinked at him in confusion.

“I...you, I mean…” Sean cleared his throat. “You done? Feel better? Clean? Um, hungry?” Dammit Sean, ask one question at a time and give her a moment to respond.

“I am.” Sean almost closed his eyes and moaned. To all of them, one or another? He couldn’t do this if she didn’t speak. He jumped up from his chair and actually backed away from her. It was the ringing at his door that saved his life. He had almost rushed her, pulled her into his arms and made love to her right there. “Food! Just a second.” Sean rushed to the door wondering if he offered the delivery boy a hundred bucks if he would stay for dinner and act as a buffer between him and the ADA. Sean didn’t even ask. That weak part of his soul wanted her all alone with him.

She came over and watched him unpack the groceries. “I thought the delivery was food.”

Sean just looked at her and then pointed to the stack of groceries. “This is food, Counselor.”

She just frowned at him, her eyes narrowing at his tone. “I know that. I just meant...already cooked food.” Her suspicious nature at the better of her. “You do know how to cook?”

Sean just snorted. “Just let me work. You make the salad. Cut the asparagus tips and give me the tougher stems. I’ll use them in the sauce. The tips can be tossed in balsamic vinegar, a pinch of sugar, and lemon juice with olive oil along with the baby mushroom caps. They’ll be part of the dressing.” Sean started pounding on some chicken breast, flattening them.

Julia looked at the boiling pasta water and the pile of uncooked pasta he had next to it on the counter. “Want me to toss the pasta in? Your water is boiling.”

He looked at her in horror. “No, pasta is always cooked last. Unless you like it lying on your plate like a limp-dicked man. Pasta needs to be al dente with just a touch of stiffness, something you can work with.” Sean couldn’t believe he was talking in food sex talk. Where the hell was his control?

Julia caught the double meaning and chose to ignore the heated blush rising up her neck. “So what are you making exactly?”

She watched him toss the pounded chicken into a heated skillet with olive oil, shallots and garlic, tossing in capers. He quickly moved the chicken around creating a glaze and when it looked fully browned he poured white wine in from a bottle added some warming chicken broth from a pan on his stove. Sean took out two wine glasses and poured them both a glass. Taking some fresh tomatoes he chopped them fine, with fresh oregano and basil and parsley. Tossing it in with the chicken. She watched him toss the ingredients around in the skillet, stop and taste it with him finger, then add in some sea salt and fresh ground pepper. Taking some of the simmering sauce on a spoon, he let her taste. Julia just looked at him in surprise. It tasted...oh God, he could cook! Then he tossed his pasta into the pot.

“I’m making, or we’re making a simple chicken piccata.” Sean took the salad dressing from her and tasted it with his finger again. She watched as he tossed more olive oil in and then took fresh raspberries from the refrigerator and tossed them in as he crushed them in the bowl. He took the salad fixings from her, arranged them on a plate and then spooned the mushroom and asparagus raspberry vinaigrette over the top. Testing the pasta, he let it cook a little longer as he stirred the chicken in a tomato wine sauce. Then he rinsed the pasta, tossed it on a huge serving platter and poured the chicken and sauce over it. Last thing he did was squeeze lemon over the top and added some fresh grated Parmesan cheese. Taking the two platters into the living room, he set them on the large coffee table, turned on some music, and came back for plates, and utensils. She followed him into the living room and sat down on a pillow on the floor in front of the fire as he served her some food. She knew he chose to eat in the living room so she could get warm by the fire.

Damn him. Just when she thought she knew everything about him, had him pigeon-holed into a known quantity, he changed and showed her something new.

~~~

Jonathan looked at the clock as the members of the board slowly trickled in. They met on the first Sunday of each quarter month all year long, unless an emergency meeting was needed. The full board consisted of seven members, not counting Maria DeLuca. The full board was nine. They had the luncheon catered and served so waiters were busy serving the members.

Kenneth Price was already there talking to members while eating. Jonathan wasn’t surprised that Professor Price had some surface charm when the need rose, because a man such as he didn’t earn his position without some type of campaigning. That was usually the problem. Some people presented wonderfully normal and well balanced images, but lacked anything substantial under close inspection.

The world revolved around the whole concept of buying the packaging and rarely the product. Everything from normal consumerism to actual relationships started at the superficial level, and for the most part rarely moved beyond that. It was easy to sell something when the outside was all pressed and presentable. It was a ‘buyer beware market’.

“Professor.”

“Stiller. I see the existing board members, but I don’t see your replacement proxy.”

“I expect him to be a little late, but feel free to eat more food. I understand that they outdid themselves today in the kitchen.” Price understood that to be a general brush-off from the man.

After the numerous members had eaten and the meal was cleared away it was time for coffee and dessert, which was the beginning of the meeting itself. That was the moment when Maria’s proxy voter arrived - Alex Whitman.

“I sorry I’m late.”

“That’s alright, Mr. Whitman.” Jonathan stood up and motioned for a server to bring Alex a plate of food.

“Alex, and no thank you on the food.” Alex caught the server’s eye and cancelled the order. Walking to a beverage cart, Alex grabbed a bottle of water and took the seat that Jonathan offered him. Introductions were made, and finally the business began. The question of the appointment of Professor Price came up at the end of the New Business agenda, and as promised, Jonathan allowed Kenneth Price to present his qualifications and make his case for appointment.

The discussion went on for some time. Jonathan made his concerns and wishes perfectly clear, as did Price. The two were in deadlock, and the other board members tried to retain a degree of impartiality. Alex just calmly sat there listening to all sides, but not saying a word. It was finally winding to a close when open ballot voting was requested, or a motion to table the topic until the following quarterly meeting.

Jonathan frowned at the suggestion. He didn’t want to go through another three months of Kenneth Price's campaign. It was time to put an end to the argument and either appoint or refuse. Stating his feelings on the matter as being unfair to Professor Price to force him to wait so long, the other board members agreed to the vote. Professor Price was on his way out the door to allow the members to vote, when Alex finally spoke up.

“You can stay. I have no objections if the other members do not as well.” Alex kept his eyes on Kenneth Price and the other members all looked at each other and nodded. Jonathan began open voting, leaving the proxy for last. If enough members voted with Jonathan then Maria’s proxy votes would never have to be cast.

It held in a deadlock until it was Alex’s turn to vote. Alex studied the man and then glanced down at the notes he made during the discussion.

“May I ask one question?” This was highly unusual since the discussion was tabled, but the Foundation was very informal so the members agreed to let Alex ask a question.

Jonathan looked at Price and asked for his consent. “Professor?”

“By all means, Mr. Whitman. Ask your question.”

“Thank you.” Alex looked down at his notes, and then put them in a pile and pushed them away. Looking directly at Kenneth he asked, “What do you get out of being a member of the board of this foundation?”

Alex’s eyes never once wavered from Price’s as he patiently waited for his answer. Jonathan was impressed with Whitman’s insight. Reward systems were high in big business, and people who wanted to swim with the big fish expected a compensation. He had told Price that his rewards were different than simply power and prestige, but Price’s were openly apparent. Price had very few options open to him. If he lied and tried to altruistically reason his rewards then his hypocrisy would be obvious. But if he told the truth, then he would be looking at being ousted by Whitman for not being appropriate.

Price paused for a mere second and then began a long explanation in his Professorial voice to explain his positive traits in a cost benefit analysis manner. Jonathan was almost impressed. The explanation was reasonable and sounded as though it was within keeping of the primary goal of the Foundation. Alex listened patiently until Professor Price finished.

“Thank you, Professor. That was very informative.” Alex took a drink of water and then walked over to toss it away. “I found your explanation to be exactly what I expected to hear. I wouldn’t have believed that you were interested in helping the poor victims of the world, or those who made mistakes. That would’ve been misleading. My vote is against.”

Price stood there shocked. He could have sworn that Whitman would’ve sided with him. His presentation was flawless. It was tasteful, with just the proper inflection to give the impression of concern and interest. Ken couldn’t move for a second, but his glance met Jonathan’s who seemed to be taunting him, tempting him to make a scene. Instead Kenneth picked up his jacket and belongings, thanked the board members for their time and left.

Jonathan sat at his seat when the meeting was over and looked over at Alex Whitman who was finally eating. They were all that remained. Alex looked up from his food and nodded to him, gesturing him to speak his mind.

“Why?”

Alex just shrugged and sat back in his chair looking at Jonathan. “Because. You sent me information and the mission statement of the Foundation as it was conceived. That’s the only true response. That a mistake doesn’t mean there can be no redemption or second chances, and the only benefits should be self-illumination.” Alex reached into his pocket and took out his cigarettes, and lit one. “If he just said simply that everyone deserves a second chance, that he deserved a second chance, I’d have given it to him.”

“You’re an interesting man, Mr. Whitman.” Jonathan meant that completely. He had been truly surprised and intrigued when his secretary informed him that the owner of Club Hell was one of the largest contributors and philanthropists in the city. It was a spark of pure self-interest and even mischief that he wanted Whitman for the proxy just to see Price’s face. And it had been Price-less.

Alex just shrugged. “I’m just a man.” Alex stood up and shook Jonathan’s hand. “It made for an interesting day and a nice side distraction, but I need to get back.”

“Wait, Mr. Whitman...”

“Alex.” Alex stopped and waited.

“Did you for a moment think that Professor Price deserved that position?”

Alex shook his head. “There could be no second chances for that man. He doesn’t believe in them. The arrogance emanated from him like a disease, and people who pride themselves on such high standards rarely can understand people who can’t live up to them. This was no place for him.” Alex smiled, lacking real humor. “I didn’t like his eyes.”

Jonathan frowned. “His eyes?”

“He was using the motivational speaker trick of direct and unwavering eye contact to promote and project sincerity. If someone has to try that hard, more than likely they're projecting an image, and not a correct one.”

“Smoke and mirrors.”

“Something like that.”

Jonathan laughed. “That’s hardly a crime. Many people project an image of what they want people to see in them or believe. It’s human nature.”

“It’s not just human.” Alex said as he nodded and headed for the door.

“Wait, Alex! If I asked you the same question you asked Price, what would your answer be?” Jonathan liked this deep quiet man.

Alex just smiled slightly and said on his way out the door. “That I believe in doing it over until you get it right, and sometimes second chances mean more than the first, because you’ve got to work so hard for it and really want it.”

Jonathan opened his mouth to say something else, but Whitman was already gone.

~~~

Julia couldn't believe she had eaten three helpings of Sean's cooking. He had forgotten the bread so she was amused when he went for a loaf of fresh French bread. All the tension and horror of the day seemed to fade away as he told her funny stories and asked her questions about her life. Oh god, they were on a date. Julia hadn’t thought about that until suddenly it hit her. She was talking to him, and learning more about him in that short space of time then she did last night on their official ‘date’.

“Where’d you learn to cook?”

“My mom. She took one look at me when I was a child, clicked her tongue in a disapproving manner, and took to teaching me how to cook against my father’s protests. I guess she decided by just looking at me, that I was destined to a life as a bachelor and she didn’t want me to starve.” Julia laughed at that. She had little doubt that Sean’s mother adored him. “Someday, I will make you this lemon dessert. I need really fresh lemons, like the ones from my father’s trees with a touch of mint.”

“What is it?” Julia asked polishing off her wine. “This dessert?”

Sean smiled slightly and finished his wine. Looking at the time he pushed the glass away. He was scheduled to be at the club in less than two hours. He couldn’t show up slightly hitched.

“An Italian ice, more of a chiffon sorbet.” Sean turned from her, and started picking up and stacking the dishes to take to the kitchen.

Warm, soft hands slid under his shirt, startling him with their knowing touch, causing his eyes to close as he concentrated on the sensation. He opened his eyes as she pulled him back to lie down on the floor next to her and draped her body full length atop him, slim fingers catching the fabric they had just crept beneath and dragging it over his head. Powerless and unwilling to resist, he raised his arms to facilitate the removal. One arm free, Sean pulled Julia tighter against him, the bulge in his jeans straining to be closer still. Damn, it sure didn’t take long for her to break his ‘hands off’ resolve and have him practically panting after her like a bitch in heat. "Jul...."

"Shhhh," she murmured, dancing hazel green eyes closing as she arched forward to press her lips to his. Their tongues met for a hungry yet patient waltz, each savoring the taste of the other.

His other hand, released from its cloth restraint at last, hesitantly glided its mildly callused palm up the back of her thigh, stopping at the leg cuffs of the pair of boxers he had given her to wear, and then to moved his hands up under the cloth to cup her smooth ass. God, how he wanted her! Needed her!

Julia groped downwards to stroke his skin as the kiss went on and on, she was careful of the bruises, and stopped to follow a cut. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispered against his lips. Sean’s tongue darted out and licked the underside of her top lip before sinking his hand in her hair and bringing her mouth in for another kiss.

“I can take it.” Sean said huskily. A part of him was screaming to regain control and stop this. It was never his intention to seduce her while she was vulnerable, but he wasn’t prepared for her to touch him first.

Julia took him for his word and somehow maintained a languid pace as she undid the top button of his fly. She ruffled the coarse hair that started just below his navel, liberated the second button when he shuddered beneath her, freed the third as a moan resonated through his chest. The briefest touch of her nails along his skin biting while her palm rested hard against the outline of the shaft of his c-ock though the rough denim. The pressure from her snapped him up into a less reclining position, his hands--one at the small of her back, the other in the hollow between her shoulder blades--crushed her inwards, the cloth of her shirt almost painful against his bare chest as his sense of touch expanded with each eternal second.

Sean shifted to allow her to remove his hampering clothes. It took a second for him to realize that only did she have him stripped bare, but she was still wearing the boxers and top he lent her. But he knew that was all she was wearing. He reclined back a little and decided to follow her lead. The change in air temperature between the air by the fireplace to their front, and cooler apartment air to their back added to the sensation of coolness and contrasting the rising heat between their entwining bodies. She caressed his broad back as he leant back. He sat up straighter again, tilting Julia backwards, breaking their tonsil strumming kiss to nip and nuzzle the winter pale skin of her neck, her collarbone, leaning himself still further up, her back curving like a wave to give him access to the hard, flushed nipples jutting for attention concealed beneath the fabric of her shirt.

He grazed his teeth, simultaneously suckling tenderly back and forth around the pert nub of her right breast through her clothes. It had to be her decision, not his to remove the garment. Her scent changed, bringing him to another level of arousal, as she became more aroused and her body heated up. Still they prolonged their tryst, each movement agonizing in its patient deliberation, reinforcing the bond, the need, the lust they could no longer deny.

She was slowly torturing him, moving her hands and mouth over his skin, touching the bruises and cuts, almost like she was kissing them better. Sean closed his eyes and suffered her soft regard, but it was the biting hardness of her hands on him that made him look at her in surprise.

“I don’t think you should be doing this, Detective. Those ribs aren’t even healed, and the sutures from surgery are making you look like a patchwork quilt.” Julia sat back from him, sitting on his upper thighs and looking at him critically. No, he looked too beaten to take a role around on a hard floor in front of the fireplace. “I don’t think you will survive this floor.”

“Julia...”

“You better get on the sofa.” Whatever he was going to say was lost. She wasn’t talking about stopping, just negotiating a change in venue. Sean leaned forward and lifted her off his lap and legs in a show of surprising strength, but settled them in his oversize mohair chair.

“Defiantly choosing another location? I bet your mother spent your childhood beating you with her wooden spoon.”

“You have no idea.” His hands moved up to frame her face.

Sitting up on him, she slowly peeled the shirt from her body and tossed it on the floor next to the chair. Reaching behind him to grasp the back of the chair she lifted up so he could remove her boxers. They hit the floor with the hissing of his breath as she settled on him. No waiting, no teasing just straight down, into his lap, taking him in deep. Damn, she felt good! But it wasn’t hard to see that he was in trouble as she set the pace, kissing him, forcing his mouth to happily suck at her breasts. When she had him close, she suddenly backed off and rested by going at a slower pace. They kept that game going for what felt like an eternity. Fast racing toward completion followed by a slowing of the movement and almost too much stimulation from her mouth and hands. He was definitely 'Love's Bitch', because she had him begging.

"Now, Julia...I need you now."

She breathed huskily as she put her hands on his shoulders, pressing him into the chair, taut, sweat-sheened muscles contrasting with surprisingly soft, yet scratchy material. She removed him from her and wrapped a hand around his throbbing c-ock while her mouth and tongue raped his mouth. Biting his tongue hard, she slowly unwrapped her hand and settled on him again rewarding his whispering moan with a violent nip to his neck. A groan sounded deep in his throat. Damn. F-ucking. Perfect. She was into pleasure and pain rewards.

They thrust as one, joined pelvis to pelvis. She used her weight, slight as it was, to set the pace--a gentle, almost lazy rocking, using her internal muscles to clench on him with every upward forward stroke, releasing to take him deeper within herself on the backward and downward slide, increasing in speed and grinding pressure as their release neared.

"Ride me hard," gasped Sean, hands clutching Julia's hips, holding the pace to a measured buildup, keeping them locked together. Nearly passing out from the biting pain in his labored breathing and the sharp stitch in his side from his ribs, it was her hard bruising hold that had him whimpering when her nails left grooves in his skin, and as he let himself experience the full sensation of her rhythmic spasms engulfing him, spine tensing and pulling him away from the chair, he murmured again, "Ride me!"

"Like the stallion you are," she teased with a slight bite to his lip, increasing the pace from a trot to a full gallop. Her nails blazed a trail of fire down his back as she climaxed, Sean followed a mere second behind. They remained there frozen as the orgasm hit them and drained their bodies, feeling the stress on every taut tendon and ligament, stretching themselves to their limits to prolong the moment.

They took their time relaxing, falling gently into each other, releasing tense muscles with great care to deter muscle spasms from their position. Julia sat astride Sean, weight distributed evenly, waiting for his eyes to focus. He reigned in his vision, narrowing the field to settle on her face. Her quirky infectious grin was mirrored on his face. He reached up to pull her in for a well-earned kiss, hazel eyes deepened to teal and promising another lap around the track.

A not exactly discreet noise disrupted their afterglow contemplations as the phone next to the chair came to life. Sean snapped his head to the left to peer around Julia to the offending instrument. He should rip it from the wall. Seeing the outrage battling with chagrin for dominant expression, Julia glanced at him, slowly moving on him again despite the settling lethargy in her thighs. He groaned in appreciation for the stimulation.

“You going to answer that?” She asked softly.

“No.” He watched her eyes narrow remembering all the messages she left him a weekend ago. He sighed and picked up the irritating phone. “Yeah!”

His brusque voice, almost unrecognizable from both impatience and irritation, intrigued her, and he looked at her as he tried to appear embarrassed and apologetic at the same time. This struck her as extremely funny. All it took was Sean's menacing bark of, "Guerin!" to circumvent her last shred of propriety. One look at Sean's expression changing as he listened to Michael on the phone got her to descend into a fit of giggles. He had forgotten about work and was already an hour late. His reassurance to Guerin that he was ‘coming’ set her off in uncontrolled mirth, as she rocked on him while biting his ear lobe. Tears streamed down her cheeks as the chuckling escalated to full force gales of laughter, racking her entire body.

Sean had to grab her quickly to keep her from falling backwards off of him and onto the floor. He glared at the phone again, and hung up rather abruptly. She wrapped her arms around Sean, her snickering muted by his neck. He sighed as she kissed his neck, and as Julia’s laughter subsided but came back again, decided that if he couldn't beat her, he may as well join her. Holding her tightly against his chest, he thought of what Michael was thinking of his tardiness and the sounds of Julia’s laughter in the background, he gave into his own amusement.

“You need to go.”

Sean nodded, and kissed her again. “I do.”

“Hmm, then I should head home too. The place has to have been cleaned up by now, and...”

“No.” Julia stopped talking and looked at him.

“No?”

“No. Stay here. Eat more food, watch TV, anything you want. Just stay. Sleep in my bed. I’ll be out until real late, maybe four in the morning, but I don’t want you in your house alone until we can get you some better locks and a security system.”

“Sean.”

“Julia. Someone entered your house, and left a dead Rubio in your bed. They can still come back. Those two men aren’t the only ones Pierce has.”

Julia slowly got off him, hissing as they disengaged. She reached over and grabbed the shirt he had lent her and put it back on along with the boxers. Looking at his nude body still reclined in the chair, and the al dente status of his...yeah, that. Julia refused to refer to it as a ‘noodle’. She just shook her head and went back into the bathroom to shower again and find her clothes.

Sean joined her, ignoring her protest. He firmly turned her into the shower head and quickly washed her body and his own. He was late, and he needed to get this settled.

“Stay.”

Julia just shook her head no. “I can’t. I can’t allow fear to enter my life, my profession. If I let them run me out of my home, then they win. I can’t live my life afraid and under some thug’s thumb running scared. This town, it seems so peaceful, but it’s not. Even the short time I’ve been here I can feel it. It’s a pressure cooker waiting to explode, and like a swirling vortex, I don’t want to get caught in the backwash. I can’t do my job and be who I am if I'm afraid.”

Sean just shook his head and held her firm. “Be afraid! You should be very afraid. That wasn’t a love letter from an admirer. That was an invitation for a hard f-ucking from a psychopath. Pierce is nothing except undiluted evil. And I won’t stand around and watch you put yourself in his path because of some misguided idea of pride.”

Julia ripped the shower curtain aside and stepped out of the shower to grab a towel. “Back off! You don’t know me. How can you? One meal and a quick f-uck doesn’t make you an expert on me, or my life, or how I need to be to live it.” Julia wrapped herself in the towel as he shut off the water and faced her dripping wet on the tile. “Who the f-uck do you think you are?”

“I’m the man who for some unknown reason keeps throwing his body in between yours and that path you choose to walk.” He grabbed her hard and brought her up to him close until they were standing face to face. “A whipping boy for the cause, and beaten to an inch of his life while volts of electricity were frying my brain cells. A lifetime of living in pain has taught me nothing but respect for how much evil that can be visited on others in this world.” Sean released her almost tossing her from him. “Well I don’t want to come home tomorrow to a news report of your assault, rape or murder. He’ll mutilate you. That’s what he does.” Sean leaned in and rested his forehead against her collar bone. “I’m tired. I’m so f-ucking tired. Don’t make me worry about you all night when I should be finding a mass murderer who takes children off the streets.”

Julia stopped raging and looked down at his bent head. Sighing and placing her hand over his head and running it down his neck she felt him shudder. He had been stronger than she knew any man could be. What he had lived through in the short time she had known him would have broken lesser men. Nodding and pulling his head up she gently kissed him. She only wanted to push him and keep him on the edge, to keep her control so he didn’t take her over. She never wanted to be the cause of his pain or the breaking of him. He had a job just like she did, and she was suddenly making it harder on him. When the hell did she get so much control? So she gave it back.

“Okay, I’ll stay. I’ll stay until I need to go home.”

Sean hugged her to him. “Thank you.”

~~~

The Club was loud and jumping just after opening. Michael sat at a monitor with his trusty supplies of food near him. He was eating every three hours now, incredible amounts. He felt drained and the food helped. It had been a shock to weigh himself that morning and realize that he had somehow lost ten pounds despite eating everything in sight. When the final tally on their grocery bill was done, he was sure that they would need a loan just to get through this pregnancy.

The pregnancy. It was strange, but since Maria almost lost the baby it was as if they both had an unbreakable bond to their unborn child. It was practically all he thought about - the baby and Maria. Instinctually he knew from his internal reactions how insane he could get over his offspring and his mate. But never in his wildest imagination could he have foreseen how intense and violent it would be.

Things were bothering him. Strange things. Unexplainable things. Maria didn’t have a ready explanation so she just ignored it. Science was her god, the foundation of her life and her understanding of the world, along with a reluctant deference to God and the esoteric. This was outside her ability to reason. So she shelved it until more information became available. His professor was nothing if not dogmatic when it came to academics.

The cuts and bites were gone. It never registered to either of them that no matter how many marks they left on each other, no matter how often, that within a few hours or a few days there wouldn’t even be a blemish remaining. He watched Maria walk into the bathroom on Saturday morning, and as her smooth back was facing him he searched for it, the mark he had just created there, but it was healed. So was the bite he had left on her back, the beard burns, and following her into the bath later, he searched her arm where she sliced it, and it was gone. Unmarred. Michael searched his body, the cut on his chest, the bite on his inner thigh...nothing. Gone. They had both healed miraculously.

There were other things. The sex. It wasn’t just the blood. It was the sex too. Blood wasn’t enough. Sex wasn’t enough. It was the combination that was keeping Maria healthy. It had to be the connection. That rush of pure energy and sensation that made them lose time - not minutes, but hours. Michael didn’t know who to tell or ask about this, not even Max. It was too personal and too bizarre. He kept his own counsel and started mentally cataloging all the differences, as if he were building a case.

“You need some more food?” Alex asked coming into the room and sitting at the monitors with Michael. He looked at the pile of snacks and sandwiches with amusement.

“I’m fine.” Michael looked at Alex in suspicion. “What did you do, Alex?”

Alex just lit a cigarette. “What do you mean?”

“This operation was dead. The killer found a new killing ground, so staking out your joint is a practice in futility. Yet, you called my team and specifically requested cop intervention.” Michael’s jaw clenched. “So I’m asking you again, what did you do?”

Sean entered the room at that moment. He stood silently watching the two men in a staredown. The testosterone was peeling the paint from the walls in that room. Michael was a dominant alpha male, but Alex was equally intense. Sean just sat back the door jamb and watched in interest. He liked his dominant side to have a little of feminine in pink. The women liked that better.

“I added more security monitors including a nice stop action photography to get a shot of all persons entering my doors.” Alex sat down and turned on a computer and they watched the digital relay as each person entering stopped to talk to the doorman and pay the cover fee. Then they stopped and read a chalkboard laughingly signed a stub and tossed it in a huge fish bowl.

“Why Alex? Why do you think he’ll be back here?” Sean asked from the doorway. Alex looked at him and shrugged as Max entered the room followed by Kyle.

Max went to sit on the edge of the table next to his partner and watched the three interact. He was finding them more and more a source of interest, an fascinating combination.

“He closed the field.” Michael said quietly. The others exchanged confused looks, but Michael never removed his gaze from Alex. “How?” Michael's voice brooked no refusal or hedging.

“I closed down all other hunting grounds. They're marking their clients in piercings and tattoos. He’ll be back once he realizes that this is the only place available. He has an aversion to being marred and flawed, and he won’t enter the other establishments if it requires he be tattooed or pierced.”

“He’ll know that he’s being corralled.”

“I know.” Alex took out a cigarette and offered one to Sean. Sean reached for it, but caught Michael’s eyes and then refused. It was too bloody awful watching Michael destroy a perfectly good smoke. He’d nab one later when ‘daddy’ wasn’t watching. “It’s no longer just a hunt for him. His sheer gall and arrogance has turned this into a battlefield. He took from us, and we took from him. My instincts are telling me that from the depth of his last Dump that this is his nesting ground, his home. He’ll not be wanting to move or leave here. And I just closed his hunting ground, so he must either alter his hunt, or take back.”

Michael nodded. It was smart. The hunter wasn’t going to let the prey outsmart him, elude him. It would be a matter of pride and a need to punish the insolence. He would take from this club again, under their noses to punish them. He was perfect and they were flawed. His sense of world order wouldn’t allow himself to be bested by flawed, imperfect individuals.

“When?”

Alex just shrugged. “It starts tonight. It depends on how out of control he is. How much he’s walking on his own edge. A man that can hide the monster inside for over ten years and dump in his own nesting ground is careful. He stopped being careful for some reason, and his anger is making him sloppy.”

Sean nodded. “Once he realizes the trap, he’ll become angrier.”

“Count on it.” Alex went to leave to circle his club.

Max silently asked, “Why did you do it?”

Alex stopped in the doorway and placed a balled fist against the wall at the door. Looking back at Max with dark eyes, almost dead he said quietly, “Because I can.”

Sean watched Alex leave the room. “Michael.”

“Go.” Sean quickly followed to keep a close eye on Alex.

Max just shook his head as Sean left. “He’s not going to make it.”

“It’ll be close. But he’ll make it.”

Max looked at Michael and nodded. They couldn’t afford to lose Alex now. He was important. And if it took everything they had, they needed to protect him.

“You’ll see to it?” Max asked softly unaware that the question wasn’t really a question, but a command.

“Done.”

Kyle was watching the monitors and snickering at Hanson on the dance floor shaking his groove thing with a young woman dressed Goth with her eyebrow pierced. It had to be the funniest thing he’d seen all day. Strange, that Hanson. They tended to tease him the most and he ended up the butt of their jokes, but in truth he was a nice man, mild-tempered, laidback and methodical. Slowly he was finding a place among them without them realizing he was there.

Kyle stood up, “I’m going to go hit the floors again.” Kyle looked back at Max. “You coming?”

“No. You go.” Kyle just nodded and left.

Max looked at the new monitor Alex had installed and was looking at the incoming patrons and flipping through freeze frames on a split screen. “This is a sweet setup. How much do you think it cost him?”

“More than you know. He’s violating the privacy of his clients. The cost of closing down the other clubs, the added security, and even the compromise to his own principles...he’s paying a grave price.”

“He spent the night with Isabel last night.”

Michael looked at Max. Neither man said a word. It was a hard situation. Whitman wasn’t the man they would have chosen for their sister, but it was still her choice. His life looked to be too much a temptation for Isabel, a pitfall. And they had just got her back. Neither of them wanted to lose her again.

“That must have been uncomfortable, all three of you in your apartment.”

Max smiled in the sheer joy of telling Michael something to get his response. “Oh, I wasn’t there.” Michael looked at his partner with narrowed eyes. Don’t even say it. “I slept over at Jonathan’s.” Michael just rolled his eyes. “All night.”

That did it. Michael exploded. “Dammit, Maxwell! How many times do I have to tell you not to give me details? ” Michael sat there huffy for a few minutes, and then reluctantly asked. “So...how was it?”

Max looked at Michael and wiggled a brow at him and suddenly both men started to laugh.

Sean came into the control room a few hours later. He was hot, sweaty, tired and wanting to go home. In a rush of honesty, he admitted to himself that he wanted to go home so he could climb into bed with Mac and watch her sleep.

“So you were late.”

“Yeah, shoot me.”

“The ADA?”

Sean’s look became guarded and stern. “Yeah, what about her?”

“Is she okay?”

Sean just shrugged. “She shook it off after I fed her and got her into dry clothes. The real test will be her walking back into her house and staying there as if nothing happened. She freaked a little about her cat, but called a neighbor and found out they had it. Guess it was crying to get back inside, so they took it in.”

“Where’d you put her?” Michael asked. He didn’t remember seeing a cat. All the noise and confusion must have kept the animal away. He vaguely remembered seeing pet dishes for food and water.

“My place, at least until I can get her a security system.”

Michael rubbed his jaw and looked at the monitors. “So what did you feed her?”

“Italian.” Michael looked up at that and a knowing look passed over his face.

“No wonder you were late.”