Oh Yeah!

OH, yeah, but I had to get a screenshot of this (see above).

Wh0000000000000t!!

Wahooo!!!! Yeeeee haw!! It's 3:47 in the morning and I just finished my NaNoWriMo novel, one day shy of the November 30th deadline. I can't decide whether to crack open the "champagne" or collapse in bed.

Hmmm. Think it's going to be a glass the sparkling Zinfandel.
I don't think I can sleep just yet.

25 chapters!!! 51,108 words!!!!! Wheeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!
(happy dance! happy dance! Now I'm scaring the cats!)

Chapter 25 -- From the Heights to the Depths

It's time to close your eyes now,
begin your fantasy - what does it mean?
Wake your dreams (commence now...)into reality.
Your fears are never wrong or right
Everything is neither black nor white.
In a Winter's Dream - I'll be there for you

Symphony X - A Winter's Dream-Prelude (with one small tamper on the Author's part, sorry members of the band, but I think you meant something other than what you wrote, unless the contradiction was intentional in an artsy way or something...)


Chapter 25 -- From the Heights to the Depths

Mara cursed under her breath as she chased the squirrel around her attic. The little rodent had found a hole under the eaves of her attic and had weaseled it's way in. She was currently trying to trap the animal so she could let it free outside.

Spring had arrived at Pittsville at long last. Mara would have preferred for it to be the dead of winter, but the seasons didn't await her whims.

Rafe had survived his most recent wound and was to the best of her knowledge still recovering either in University of Chicago hospital where the ambulance had taken him, or at his apartment. Or even at the Kuntzlers. Who knew. Who cared.

Mara swore again as she felt the familiar ache of grief building in her chest. She stuffed it down, the squirrel came first and then she could settle in for a nice, comfortable cry. Much to her own disgust.

She looked at the attic windows as the bushy-tailed animal scolded her as it frantically ran back and forth in the attic. "Yeah, I know how you feel, buddy," she said as she watched the animal's fear as it looked for a way out.

"I just hope you don't find those either of those two holes in the floor and disappear into the crawlspace. I really would rather not smell d-dead s-s-quirrel all summer. Aw, shit." She took a deep shuddering breath to pull herself together. "Squirrel now, moping later, squirrel now, moping later," she chanted under her breath as she walked towards the set of windows at the side of the house.

"How about if I open the windows and you figure your own way out, okay?" She pulled the windows at the side of the house open. "Does that sound like a plan?" She walked to the front of the house and knelt to open the small set of windows.

Before she could do that, she noticed that Grove's familiar pickup was parked out front. At the same time the front doorbell rang. She heaved the windows open and shouted down "Hi, Grove, I'll be there in a sec, hang on, I'm up in the attic..."

She trotted down two flights of stairs, somewhat happy that Grove had stopped by for a visit. Maybe he could help her snap out of the bout of crying she felt was going to happen otherwise.

Mara opened the door and gasped in shock. Pale as a ghost, Rafe stood on her front porch.

"Hi," he said.

Mara continued to gape at him as if she were seeing a ghost indeed.

"Um, are you going to ask me in?"

"Oh. Oh, yes, yes, please come in, please...sit down before you fall down, what on earth are you doing here? How on earth did they let you fly? You can't be completely healed. Oh, here, sit on the sofa..."

He lifted two fingers to her mouth to still her babbling. "Mother Hen," he said.

Mara wailed and burst into tears. She plopped down on the sofa next to him and buried her face in her hand, sobbing.

"Hey, hey, I meant that as a compliment, I wasn't trying to insult you. Though I don't blaim you for thinking that the way I treated you at the end in Chicago."

Mara continued to cry.

Rafe reached over and pulled her huddled body closer to him, half sprawling her across his lap. She continued sobbing into his thigh as he rubbed her back in soothing circles. "Mara, sweetheart, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry," he murmured.

After a few minutes she stopped crying or at least had slowed down to a hard sniffle and the occasional hiccuping sob. She couldn't believe was here. She couldn't look at him. Maybe if she kept her eyes closed, she could stay in this pleasant dream where Rafe called her sweetheart and rubbed her back.

"Mara, honey." Rafe pulled at her shoulders gently to move her into a more upright position so he could see her face. He handed her a fresh kleenex as she stared at him, her eyes wide open and disbelieving.

"R-rafe," she stuttered and stopped, seemingly incapable of saying anything else. He grabbed another Kleenex, gently wiped her face and kissed her forehead. Putting his arm around her shoulders, he pulled her close and simply held her for many long silent minutes. He could feel the aftershocks of her crying bout still quivering through her body.

After a while longer, he broke the silence, "Your friend Mr. Kuntzler seems to think I didn't spend enough time out here recuperating before, so he sent me here. Actually, I came of my own volition and was hoping a friendly landlady would take me in for the duration?"

Mara didn't look at him.

"Please? Your guest bed is so much more comfortable than any hotel bed and... and if I were staying here, we could talk, really talk, about us."

Mara finally looked at him. "Is there an 'us'?"

She watched Rafe closely, saw his eyes brighten with unshed tears. "Oh, Mara, I do hope so. I hope you haven't grown to hate me for being such a bastard to you while I was in the hospital. I really didn't mean to yell at you and call you an interfering nuisance or whatever I said. It had to be a mixture of the stupid part of my brain and the morphine..."

He continued after a moment. "When I thought about what I said later, I was hoping you would still come to visit the next day so I could grovel and apologize. Instead, Kevin informed me that you had...returned to Pittsville and that apparently you couldn't stay any longer. I think he wanted to give me what for, but didn't want to yell at a man while he's down and out in a hospital bed. If you had come by the next day, I could have introduced you to my mother. She came back from her out of town vacation as soon as she heard what had happened, that's why she wasn't there right away."

"Your m-mother?"

"Yes, Giulietta, the Queen Bee herself, and I mean that as in hive, not as in beeyoch. She's really a very pleasant, forceful person, in a kind way. Sort of like you. She's been buzzing around forever, nagging me to settle down..." He trailed off and broke his eye contact with Mara.

"Do you mean that?" she asked.

"Do I mean what?"

"She's been nagging at you to...settle down?"

"Yes, and I thought it was high time myself and had even found the perfect woman."

"Oh. That's great for you Rafe, I hope she's a talented beauty and is good to you," she muttered looking away from him. 'I will not cry again, I will NOT cry,' she told herself.

"But the next thing I knew she had left town..."

"I'm sorry..."

"And had flown all the way back to Pittsville."

"Oh. Y-you mean me?"

"Yes my sweetest mother hen. You burrowed your way into my heart and it looks like you didn't even know you were doing that. I'm sorry for the mixed metaphors, my dear Editor, come here." Pulling her close, he kissed her, this time on the lips, a long, lingering kiss.

When they broke apart for air, Rafe said, "I know we really need to talk before I start making any assumptions, but will you at least give me another chance?"

She tremulously nodded her head, afraid to speak. He pulled her close for another tender kiss, then settled her back with his arm still around her shoulders, enjoying the evening and the warmth of Mara next to him.

The squirrel? It found the windows and fled after a long chattering scold down the stairs, causing the two lovers to burst into laughter, laughter that they could look forward to for the rest of their lives.

The End

Chapter 24 -- Why Do We Do The Things We Do

Author's Note: Strong R rating for actual violence.

Hey mister
Your eyes are full of hesitaiton
Make me wonder
What you're looking for
Maybe I want to know
Keep my reputation
And sensation

Goldfrapp - Yes Sir, I Can Boogie

Chapter 24 -- Why Do We Do The Things We Do

Pale morning came. Slowly, surely another day began in Chicago. Unknowing of the drama, of all the dramas, large and small, in the city, commuters began clogging freeways and expressways. They had no need of any other drama, the stop and go traffic eliciting plenty enough of small private dramas. Or at least abundant usage of curse words.

Mara woke and slowly opened her eyes without otherwise moving. Looking around the room, then out the window, she saw the first hint of the sunrise. She looked down where Rafe's head was resting, on her bosom, and was affectionately amused to see that he had managed to drool on her.

She breathed in a deep breath and prayed for many more mornings of drooling on her. Maybe this drooling was a result of his broken nose, maybe he normally wasn't a mouth breather. Though she knew that everyone was a mouth breather at least part of the night, she was saddened because she hadn't slept with him often enough to know if and when drooling came into play.

She started a little when she heard a faint sound out in the hallway: a cell phone ringing, evidently. Rafe didn't wake because of her twitch, he just grasped her waist more firmly and snuggled in a bit more. She smiled to herself. He had better not start fussing with the "pillows."

She heard a voice, one of the guards she supposed, talking on the phone. It was the wrong pitch for The Assassin. The Assassin seemed to be a few rungs further up the Outfit's ladder, she would bet her last dime that he rarely had to pull overnight "guard duty" like the two out in the hall.

Her eyes slid closed as her mind drifted back into a half-dream of being in her own bed with Rafe, his slumber more natural than the anti-inflammatory induced sleep he was in now. She wondered what would happen today. Would they get out? Would Rafe be the same nice guy he had been, the same one who told her he loved her? Or would he wake up and still be this distant creature she had encountered the night before. She drowsed, sleepily pondering her doubts and worries about what was to happen.

What if they were killed?

That thought jolted her fully awake again. She listened, but didn't hear the voice still talking in the doorway.

Her bladder made its wants known. She gently nudged Rafe to try to wake him up, at least long enough so that she could prop him in a sitting position against the wall. He muttered something unintelligible under his breath, but complied.

She stood and stretched and went to relieve herself. After she came out of the bathroom, she walked over to their "bed" and toed her shoes back on. Walking over to the window, she gazed out at what she hoped wouldn't be her last sunrise. Something had to give.

------------------

Jim Davies muttered to himself in the abandoned apartment across the street. Nothing budging, but...something had to give.

"Hey Jim!" the hushed, excited voice of his partner echoed against the walls of the empty room. "There's a woman up there on the top floor."

Davies dashed over to the window and trained his binoculars on the top floor window. "She looks like she matches that description of Kuntzler's missing female friend that may or may not be involved in this whole Lombardo / Moretti mess."

"Yeah that's what I thought, too."

Davies pulled out his cell phone to call the First's Office of Criminal Investigation, then radioed the unmarked unit down at street level. Time to start putting together a plan of action.

------------------

Mara was startled by a flash of light across the street. She peered at the window where the flash came from and saw someone was surveilling the area with binoculars. She waited until they looked her way again. It might be more of Lombardo's goons, but she had to try. She waved silently but frantically at the viewer in the window.

"What are you doig?" a plaintive voice asked behind her.

"Shhh!"

"Huh?"

"There's someone out there watching this room," she whispered in an urgent undertone.

"Get away from the window. It might be one of Lombardo's men."

"I...I don't think it is, the man has a parabolic mike, why would Lombardo be eavesdropping on us that way when all he has to do is have one of the guards outside stick his ear against the door. Or, hell, bug the room!"

She saw that the man was now aiming the dish in her direction. She said slowly and clearly, "Mara Pitts, Rafe Moretti, Kidnappees," and hoped that the microphone was sensitive enough to pick up the vibrations from the sound of those words off the window. She waited a minute and then repeated herself.

Mara looked behind her and saw that Rafe had gotten up. He was painfully walking over to the window and when he arrived there, he leaned against the wall next to the window. He peered out to try to see what Mara was looking at.

"See Rafe, that window third story from the top towards the right corner of the building. He's signaling something at us. Oh, crap it looks like semaphore. I don't know it."

"I do." Rafe squinted to try to see what the man across the way was trying to get across. "P..o..l..i... He's spellig 'police.' Okay, got tha... s...t...a...y, Stay..." He continued to whisper a translation of the brief message to Mara.

"He wats us to stay back frob the widdow, agaidst the wall."

"Why?" she whispered back.

"I'b guessig sdiper."

"Huh? Diaper!?" she exclaimed softly, puzzled.

"Crack shot. Doesd't wat to take us out. Sdiper."

"Sniper."

"Yes."

"So we just wait and hang tight next to the wall."

"Yes." Rafe gestured to the wall to their right, letting the policeman know where they would be standing. He continued to watch the signaling and told Mara that they would also try to infiltrate the building, which would be a relatively safer way than shooting across the street. The semaphorist had also told him to look out the window again in thirty minutes for an update. Rafe had signaled back an "okay."

"Well, let's just sit back down on the sleeping bags. And wait. And hope for the best." A tear ran down her face. She abruptly scrubbed it away with a hand. "Damn," she said, torn between fear and a dawning sense of relief.

When she turned away from the window, Rafe had already made his back to the sleeping bag and was setting himself down on it. She walked over to her bag, folded it and sat down crosslegged. She didn't get too close to this new, more uncertain incarnation of Rafe, didn't want to risk provoking a row and attracting the guards' attention.

-------------

The half hour was slowly dragging by, when the door flew open and The Assassin and the guards abruptly entered. "On your feet. We're leaving."

"What's happening?" asked Mara.

"Giancarlo showed up."

"You mean we're free to go?"

"Yes," said The Assassin. The slightest pause before his answer told Rafe a different story.

Springing into action, he shoved a surprised Mara to the floor as two rapid shots fired, breaking the window. Mara covered her head has shattered glass flew everywhere. There was one loud shot in the room, then she heard the whizz of a bullet fly overhead.

Stillness. Nothing moving that she could hear over her frantic breathing and pounding heart. She slowly turned her head to look towards the door and saw four bodies lying on the floor.

Four bodies...

"RAFE!" she shrieked and ran over to where he lay. Quickly rolling him onto his back to see where he had been shot, she saw blood quickly seeping through his shirt. "Oh god oh god oh god oh god," she implored as she ran to the bathroom to grab the towels.

Running back to Rafe, she folded one towel and pressed it down on him to try to stop the bleeding. She reached beneath him to see if the bullet had exited his body. It had, so close to his spine and kidneys, that she found herself uttering another anguished prayer as she folded two more towels and shoved it beneath him. She could tell by her quick touch exam that the exit wound was messier than the entry wound.

She gasped, and looked down the hallway, as the elevator came open, and three policemen burst out from it. She cried, "Oh help, don't shoot, help, help, we've got to help Rafe, oh God," she collapsed in tears over his unconscious body.

She half-heard a policeman calling for medical help as she continued to sob. She looked up at Rafe's still face, and reached out a trembling hand to feel for a pulse in his neck. Either she was shaking too hard or she couldn't feel one. She spit on her hand, and rubbed the spit around, holding her damp hand above his mouth. She couldn't feel any exhalations either.

Mara heard an ungodly howling grief sounding around her. Who was that? She realized that the keening wail was coming from her. They had killed Rafe. The policemen moved her aside and started CPR on the fallen man. She stumbled over to a wall and slowly slid down it, completely and utterly numb from shock. Rafe was dead.

Chapter 23 -- And The Rain Came Down

A/N: PG-13...

Wind is a cycle
that blows through the ocean
Blowing the rag
giving birth to your dreams
Waiting but it's holding me
down to this star
You were always the one to adore
You open up this spiderweb and die
You twist his words, there's no sense to his verbs
It's been raining for years
You're waking me, this urgency you hide
You're everytime I wake, you see me hide
Just don’t trick me
Just don’t stop here
It's been raining for years

Goldfrapp - Sartorius

Chapter 23 -- And The Rain Came Down

Mara found herself pacing the big room again, waiting for Rafe to emerge from the bathroom. The long minutes turned into what felt like at least an hour. She finally became fed up and went to peer into the bathroom.

Rafe was still sitting on the toilet where she had left him. He hadn't moved. She hoped he was just dozing and not unconscious. Surely he would have slid off his perch if he were unconscious?

She warily walked in to the bathroom, not wanting to be accused again of hovering, but wanting to see if he was all right. "Rafe?"

He was startled by her voice and jerked, almost succeeding in losing his seat. The wash cloth on his face fell to the floor as he looked at her as best he could, with a bewildered expression on his face. "Wha..?"

"You've been sitting in here for a long time. I got worried."

"Dod worry about be. I'b fide."

Mara had to bite back a mildly hysterical giggle. Apparently the ibuprofen had done nothing to bring down the swelling in his face. "Well," she said unsteadily. "You want to come out to the main room where you can sit in your sleeping bag and at least be warm?"

He was silent for a long moment and then shrugged. She wondered if she should have checked for a blow to the head, he had been acting in such an uncharacteristic manner. Usually Rafe was ever the gentleman with her, but their last conversation had bordered on acrimonious.

"I'b fide, feel good," he muttered. "Took sob bore ibuproden."

"How much more," her voice mildly alarmed.

"Four bore tabs."

At least that explained his being a bit out of it. Mara made an executive decision, figuring he wasn't completely in his right mind. "Okay, Mr. Moretti, we're going to go out and bundle you up in a sleeping bag so you can get some proper rest," she said trying to emulate good bedside manner.

He shrugged again.

"You don't get a choice in this one, mister. We're getting out of this bathroom."

"'kay," he whispered.

"Can you stand up on your own?"

"Thik so."

"I'll be right by your side if you feel the least bit wobbly."

"'kay." He stood up slowly and teetered, then steadied. Mara put his right arm over her shoulder and slowly walked out of the bathroom with him.

She opened up one of the sleeping bags and helped him sit down on it. "I'm just going take off your shoes. Okay?"

"'kay."

She took off his shoes and he lay back down, his head on the pillow. Wheezing a bit, he uttered, "Cat breathe."

"You were doing all right standing. How about if you sit up and lean back against me." Mara grabbed the other sleeping bag and opened it next to him and sat down on the end. She helped him slide back to rest his upper body against her and she heard his breathing become easier. She zipped up the bag he was in and then brought the bottom half of her bag up to cover them both.

Gently cradling him against her, she felt his breathing slow into sleep. After kissing the top of his head, she laid her head back against the wall to try to catch a few winks herself.

--------------------

Before midnight, the Deputy Superintendent called the Kuntzlers one more time to let them know that the parabolic mike had picked up something like voices. However they were unable to pinpoint the floor where they came from, yet. Somewhere in the top third of the building.

The team at the site was going to go up into one of the occupied apartment buildings across the street to see if they could get a better bearing on the location of the voices. They had problems securing a place in an unoccupied apartment towards the top of the building as the landlord had been been out. Finally, the man had come home and they were able to set up in the vacant apartment.

Kevin relayed this information to Lara. She sighed, "We might as well try and get some rest. I don't know if I can sleep at all just yet, but..."

"Let's just lie on top of the bed with a comforter over us. I'm just going to kick off my shoes, but I do want to stay dressed in case I need to leave in a hurry." Suiting action to words, he walked into the bedroom and kicked off his shoes. He set the cordless phone on the bedside table and grabbed a comforter from the bedroom closet.

Kevin turned around to find his wife already lying on the bed with her shoes off. He unfolded the comforter to cover her and then crawled under the other half.

"Well, Mrs. Kuntzler. How was your day?" he asked half humorously, trying to think of something to talk about other than the tense situation.

----------

Don Carlo sat in his office drumming his fingers. Where the hell was Giancarlo? He was worried that the young man had been killed and the kidnapping of the reporter and his girlfriend was all for naught.

----------

Mara listened to Rafe's breathing as he slept and prayed for them to get out of this nightmare more or less in one piece. Rafe would need to have a doctor look him over. She hoped it would end sooner rather than later.

Chapter 22 -- All We Like Sheep

A/N: PG-13 for language and implied violence.

Oh I miss your kiss
When you are gone
I was young and foolish
Didn't know what I was doing
Didn't know I'd lost you
'Til you were gone
Oh I miss your loving
When you are gone

Robert Palmer - Early In The Morning

Chapter 22 -- All We Like Sheep

Mara stood by the window of the abandoned apartment watching the sky darken towards evening. The sky itself was a hazy deep pink, but the delimiter of the night could be seen to the east, where the pink faded into a deeper blue.

She had spent most of the day pacing. She had stopped only to force herself to eat the fast food that The Assassin's henchmen had delivered for her. Her nerves made her feel like vomiting, but she wasn't going to turn down what might be her last meal.

Now, she found herself by the window. The colors she saw were blurring together as her eyes swam with tears yet again. She was starting to get angry again. Angry at the situation, angry at Rafe, angry that she kept crying. Surely she had shed enough tears for several years' worth in the past few days. Anger felt better than bleak despair.

She whirled away from the window when she heard the door unlocking. She saw one of the guards hurl Rafe into the room, where he landed on all fours, his head drooping.

Frozen by their actions, she looked away from him when The Assassin snarled at her, "Why don't you two put your heads together and figure out where Giancarlo is. Mr. Moretti certainly doesn't seem to be able to figure out himself." And with that, he slammed the door, blocking out the light that had shone in from the hallway.

The slamming of the door galvanized Mara into action. "Rafe," she said desperately as she ran over to where he was slowly dragging himself up off the ground. She helped him stand and gasped when she saw his face, any anger she might have felt disappearing instantly.

He was now sporting two black eyes, the second one courtesy of what appeared to be a broken nose. She winced in sympathy. "Rafe?" she asked.

"Shit." he muttered indistinctly and spat. Mara jerked away a little at his angry profanity and action, but then put one of his arms over her shoulder and herded him into the bathroom. She sat him on the toilet lid again, and turned around to switch on the light.

Steeling herself, she turned around to face Rafe, concerned that the damage she would find would be worse than what she had seen in the twilight. His head was drooping again and he seemed to be holding himself upright by force of will.

Rafe's research and subsequent meeting with Don Lombardo had evidently not gone well to put it mildly. His eyes and nose looked like one big bruise.

Mara coaxed Rafe around so that he was sitting forward on the toilet. She got him to sit back further, so he could rest against the tank. Tipping his head back, she applied a wet, cold washcloth over his eyes and nose. He flinched slightly, but settled back again.

"Rafe, I'm sorry I can't do anything about your poor nose right now, I haven't the foggiest how to reset a broken nose and..."

"Dote dewspaper editors doe everything?" he challenged halfheartedly his swollen nose blurring his speech.

"No, afraid not. Don't try to talk, just sit there. Here, sit up for a sec." She caught the wash cloth as it fell off his face. "Take these," she handed him four ibuprofen tablets and then put a cup of water to his lips.

He reached up and took the cup from her in a sudden motion, "I cad drik by byself" he grumbled.

"Okay, sorry, sorry."

"Dad it, you're apologizig agaid. Stop it."

Mara stood in silence watching him drink the water.

"Ad quit hoverig," he snarled a bit more loudly.

What the hell was the matter with him? She knew he was in pain, but this angry grouchiness was something she had never experienced from him. "Okay." she said, then more firmly. "Okay. I'll quit hovering, but you tip your head back and I'll put the washcloth back on your face. Hopefully the ibuprofen will bring some of the swelling down."

She rewet the washcloth and placed it over his eyes and nose. Stepping back, she wiped a stray tear from her eye and was starting to get angry again at herself for being...such a wet dishrag. She quietly stepped out of the bathroom, and closed the door, leaving it slightly ajar and went back to the window to stare into the night.

------------------

Kevin Kuntzler and the Deputy Superintendent of the CPD's Bureau of Investigative Services were seated in the First District office for the Organized Crime Division. They were listening to the speaker phone, where the voice of a policeman was giving them a report on what was happening.

An all-points bulletin had gone out on the Lincoln's license plates. A policeman in an unmarked car had spotted it and successfully followed it first to the building where Don Lombardo's offices were located. Another unmarked car followed it to the abandoned apartment building. There was now a third unmarked car about a block away, with detectives monitoring the building.

Day was fading into night. Kevin was exhausted by the events of the day. He rubbed his face with one hand and twiddled a pencil on the arm of the with the other.

The Deputy Superintendent took a long look at him. "Mr. Kuntzler, you should go home now. We're watching the situation. I don't know what's going on in there, but there's a van on its way that's equipped with a parabolic microphone. They'll try and listen in and see if there's any way we can move in with a team. We know for sure that Mr. Moretti is in there. As for Ms. Pitts, there's been no sightings of her, but she may very well be being held somewhere by Don Lombardo's outfit. It's just a matter of time."

"Yeah, I'd better get home, I'm sure Lara's climbing the walls."

"Please give your wife my regards. She's been very helpful in raising money to build that Girls Club on the North Side. It's given a lot of latchkey girls a safe place to go after school."

"I will. Thank you again, sir."

Kevin walked down to the District's parking garage and retrieved his car. He unlocked the door and got in, sitting in his car for long minutes before he could find the energy to put the key in the ignition.

He rubbed his eyes and started the car. No use air-dreaming here. He was sure that Lara was frantic. He was very anxious himself. Two of their friends were possibly in mortal danger and, even with the news world at his fingertips, there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

Twenty minutes later he pulled into the parking garage beneath his apartment building. He had been glad to find that it was just after rush hour and the drive north on Lake Shore Drive had been fairly hassle free.

Kevin found his wife in the apartment, unconsciously echoing Mara's pacing. She heard and saw Kevin come in and enveloped him in a bone cracking hug.

"God, Kevin, I don't want to sound selfish and they are my friends, too, but... I'm so damn glad it's not you that's been kidnapped."

He tipped Lara's face up and looked in her eyes for a long moment, cherishing her. Their lips met in a desperate kiss.

For long moments they stood there, cradling and comforting each other. Kevin broke the kiss off and led his wife over to the sofa, where they both sat down.

She broke the silence first. "What did the police tell you?"

"They managed to tail the car Rafe left in from the office. Apparently, they were up in Don Lombardo's impenetrable hive of offices for a couple of hours. I guess the security there is crazy since the last time the police tried to nail the Don. They left with Rafe, looking rather worse for wear..."

Lara interrupted, "What did they do to him?"

"The plainclothesman said it looked like they had been using him as punching bag. I just wish I knew what the hell Don Carlo wanted out of Rafe." Kevin took Lara's hand and held it, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles, trying to give some cold comfort.

"So where did they go after the oh so charming visit with the Don?"

"They drove south and have been holed up in an abandoned apartment building that's scheduled for demolition in about three months. When I left the PD, the Deputy Superintendent advised me that they were going to try and eavesdrop on the building with a parabolic mike. So far as they know there isn't anyone else in the building. So if they can hear them, they can figure out what floor they're on. So far there haven't been any lights on in any of the apartments, so they haven't been able to tell."

"So what happens now?"

"We wait, Lara. We fucking sit and wait. And hope neither of them is killed."

Chapter 21 -- Strange Days, Indeed

A/N: This chapter is a strong PG-13 for potential violence.



It's hot, too hot for me mama
but I can hardly wait
my eyes they're burning mama
and I can feel my body shake
don't stop, don't stop me mama
oh make the pain, make it go away - hey
no I won't hurt you mama
but its getting so hard - ooooh

Genesis - mama

Chapter 21 -- Strange Days, Indeed

Somewhere between the city twilight and morning, they lost the rest of their clothing. They made love quietly, as if not wanting to give their presence, their activity away. And as quietly they went back to sleep.

-------

Mara woke when the first tendrils of dawn shone through the windows, and the sky was a pale wheat color, the blue-black of the night having faded, but daylight blue was still a promise. Her head was resting on the pillow. Rafe was half sprawled across her, his head resting on her breast, one hand holding her waist.

She stroked his hair and whispered, "Rafe. Love, it's time to get up and get dressed. You can nap a little more after that."

He murmured something incoherent, and drew her closer, settling back into deeper sleep. Mara sighed, wishing that they weren't here, in this situation, wishing that neither of them had to stir. She wanted to go back to sleep, and just hold Rafe, but she also didn't want anyone bursting in on them in their state of undress.

"Rafe. Wake up." She shook his shoulder more urgently.

He finally stirred and lifted his head to look at Mara "What's going on?" he asked blearily. Unthinking, he reached up to rub his black eye, and yelped. "Damn!"

"Ooops. Um, nothing's going on, just...we need to clean up and get dressed."

"'kay," he muttered, untangling himself from Mara, grabbing his clothes and padding naked to the bathroom. Mara had a long minute in which to admire his strong back and firm buttocks and the movement of his muscles beneath his skin.

He began to shut the door, but then stuck his head around it, "And no ogling nude men, okay?"

Mara blushed and pulled the top sleeping bag back over her head. It smelled of Rafe and their love. She wanted so badly to just close her eyes and let her mind drift, surrounded by his smell...

Suddenly the bag was lifted off her face and she started.

"Hey, it's just me. I see what you had planned here, you wanted to get me up so you could hog this comfortable bed," joked Rafe.

"I'm getting up, I'm getting up..."

"Hop to it, lady. I want to lie back down and doze a little more."

She stretched and shivered as the cool air in the room hit her breasts. She looked up at Rafe and saw that he was admiring the view...of her stretching.

"If you keep lollygagging and stretching like that, I'm going to have to lose the clothes again, and I fear that would be...counter productive at this point."

"Okay, I'm up." She grabbed her clothes from where she had tossed them next to the combined sleeping bags. "And no ogling of nude women!"

"Can I make an exception for the one present?" he teased.

Mara bundled her pile of clothes together and sprinted to the bathroom with them and as much of her dignity as she could still intact. She closed the door after grinning out at Rafe, grabbed a washcloth and filled the sink with warm, soapy water.

--------

Two hours later the sun was full up and was slowly warming up the room. "It's almost comfortable in here with the sun shining in," observed Mara.

"It does seem to make a difference. It's been so chilly in here with just me and the rain. So much nicer to have a roommate."

They had dozed for a while longer, fully dressed, then sat up and started looking through Mara's notes.

Rafe shook his head in exasperation, "It's really so simple it's stupid. Don Lombardo hides away any knowledge of his prodigal son from the rest of La Famiglia. Prodigal son disappears from the scene so completely that even the don can't find him. Don L reads my articles about city gang and drug activities, sees the mention of a Giancarlo, without a last name, mind you. I spoke to him, Giancarlo that is, once for about ten seconds. He was spouting some nonsense about who knows what."

"So the Don, having read my stories figures that I must know where the young man is. Before he can pull me in to find the kid for him, Giancarlo takes matters into his own hands, robs a bank and calls to tip me to make sure I'll be there. He then, unsuccessfully, tries to off me. He drives off into the night with my car, which is most probably in parts on fences all over this city by now, so it's not worth it to go car hunting. My boss makes the executive decision, that, since I'm apparently losing my marbles, I need a time out in South Dakota."

"Rafe, I only made you stand in the corner that one time!" she laughed at his description of the time he spent in South Dakota. "And I never had a chance to spank you..." her voice trailed off as the key rattled in the door.

They both watched as The Assassin and both guards came in. "Stand up, Mr. Moretti, you're coming with us," he said with a pleasant smile.

Mara shivered with dread when she saw that smile. She stood with Rafe and held onto him.

"Ms. Pitts, you're not going anywhere, so please let go of Mr. Moretti."

"Rafe," she gasped in an urgent under voice.

"It's okay, Mara," he comforted her, when both of them knew that it most certainly was not okay.

She turned him around to face her, and kissed him, lingering on his lips. "I love you," she whispered.

"Come on, Mr. Moretti, we haven't got all day."

Rafe hugged her firmly, let her go and strode towards the waiting men. With the guards flanking him, they went out the door. The Assassin spoke again, "We'll just leave you here, Ms. Pitts to assure Mr. Moretti's good behavior. I'll be back with lunch in a couple of hours."

He closed the door. Mara sat back down on her sleeping bag with a thud and hid her face in her hands.

---------------

After several minutes of silence in the car, The Assassin moved his gaze back to the interior after staring quietly out the window. They were driving north on Lake Shore in the same anonymous Lincoln Continental that had transported Mara the previous day.

"So, Mr. Moretti."

"Yes?" Rafe replied calmly, even though he was anything but.

"Don Lombardo figured you'd need a little help finding young Giancarlo and a little encouragement. Ms. Pitts is your, shall we say, encouragement to succeed..."

"Don't even think about hurting Mara," Rafe growled. "She innocent, she's got nothing to do with this. It's my story the Don's latched on to, not anything to do with her."

"Well, well. You'll just have to find Giancarlo, won't you," The Assassin smiled pleasantly, apparently enjoying Rafe's anger and frustration at the situation. "And don't, I beg you, even think about trying to overpower me. If I'm not back at the Don's office by a certain time, your acquaintance with Ms. Pitts shall be cut tragically short. Just sit there like a good boy. The Don has faith in you. He's even going to let you go do some more...research. So where would you like to go? Alas, none of our fine neighborhood police precinct offices are an option."

Rafe rubbed his forehead thinking quickly about where the best bet to go would be. "Take me to my office. I've got to check in with my boss, anyway, or he'll be the one calling the police and filing a missing persons' report. I can call him from my office and let him know I'm okay and then I'll have more time to...try and find the Don's missing son."

"That's fine. Just remember I'll be coming with you to remind you that I'm on a schedule as well..." The Assassin trailed off meaningfully.

They rode the rest of the way in silence to the tall building that housed the offices of Kuntzler News. Rafe and the man got out of the car and walked into the building. At the lobby security desk, the guard recognized Rafe and didn't demand his ID. Rafe signed out a visitor's pass for The Assassin.

When he was finally seated in his office, Rafe drew a breath. The entry into the building and the ride up to the 23rd floor had been rife with anxiety. He gestured to one of the chairs in his office. "I'm going to call my boss Kevin now. Is that all right?"

"Just so long as you don't try to do anything crazy like dial 911 or call that security guard. I'd really hate to have to shoot my way out of here." He pulled back one side of his jacket to reveal a holstered Beretta semiautomatic.

"Okay. Nothing crazy or stupid. I'm just calling my boss." Rafe quickly dialed the extension for Kevin's office praying that he was there and not in some interminable meeting. He almost sighed in relief when he heard Kevin answer.

"Kuntzler. Hey, is that the real Rafe Moretti or is someone just using your phone. I've a bone to pick with you. You show up, but now Mara's gone missing. I was going to call the cops on either one or both of you this afternoon. So fill me in, just what the HELL was this lead you were so hot on the tail of?"

"Easy, boss, Kevin. It's a pretty good story, but..."

"No Buts, Moretti." Kevin was seriously pissed. "Just tell me where the hell you've been and if you know where the hell Mara is."

"Mara's here?" said Rafe, feigning surprise. Turning to look at his unwanted visitor, he saw that the man had pulled out the Beretta and now was aiming it at him.

'Hurry up,' mouthed The Assassin.

"Well I hope I can find some time to see her, but as they say, 'Watson, the game's afoot.' I've found some interesting follow up material to that series I did a few weeks ago. Got to run now, I'll check back in a day or so. Bye." Rafe set the handset down in its cradle.

"Let's get moving so we can check in with Don Lombardo," The Assassin said, holstering his weapon.

Rafe let out a long sigh and preceded the man out of his office.

-----------

In another office on another floor, Kevin Kuntzler stared at his phone, startled to the core. Rafe had just given him a preset code phrase borrowed from Sherlock Holms to let him know that he was in deadly danger.

He dialed one of his other reporters and told him to go down to the lobby and watch for Rafe, but not to say anything to him or do anything. He was just to keep an eye open to see where Rafe was off to now.

After he hung up with the reporter, he called the police. He asked to speak with the Downtown Precinct's superintendent, bullying his way past the man's secretary using his name to get through.

He sighed with relief when the man came on the phone. Kevin briefed him on what was going on, or as much as he knew. He now knew from what Rafe had said that this was indeed something to do with Don Lombardo, but who knew what.

When he hung up the phone, it immediately rang again. It was the reporter calling on his cell phone from the lobby. He had seen Rafe and another man, who appeared to be armed leaving in a black Continental. He gave Kevin the plate numbers from the car and that the car was last scene moving southbound on Wabash.

Kevin relayed this information to the precinct. He let out a long breath and rubbed his face with one hand, wondering just what the hell WAS going on. And where the hell Mara was.

Chapter 20 -- The Colors of Night

Author's Note and Warning: We are now back into hard R to NC-17 territory for sex. You have been warned



It's a strange day
No colours or shapes
No sound in my head
I forget who I am
When I'm with you
There's no reason
There's no sense
I'm not supposed
To feel
I forget who I am
I forget...

Goldfrapp - Utopia

Chapter 20 -- The Colors of Night

Mara stood by the window looking out into the semi-darkness that was night in Chicago. She couldn't tell if the sky was overcast any more, the ambient light of the city made it impossible to pick out any stars. It was strange to see the night thus denuded of stars. There was no moon in site.

She felt Rafe's hand on her shoulder. "Come on, Mara. It's time for bed, such as it is," he chuckled.

"Look at the night. I forget how..."

"You forget how?"

"How many stars are out there. Makes me realize why violence is such an easy thing in the city. There's nothing out there besides other people to tell you how small you are. And from people, all you get is small. You lose the feeling of being a small part of something so much bigger, bigger than you can even comprehend. Just being people-small is degrading to those who have been made small. Being a mote in the universe, that is being a small part of something incredible. And everyone around you is part of something incredible. So why would you hurt anything...so amazing?"

"She's an editor and a philosopher. Has the city always made you feel small?"

"Yes. It's overwhelming. It's a gift and a curse that you can disappear into."

"A gift and a curse?"

"Never mind, I'm just...wishing I could see some stars tonight."

Rafe put his arm around her and led her to their makeshift sleeping bag bed. "I'm going to take a chance and be a small part of something incredible. It gives me courage somehow, that even if I cease to exist..."

"Don't say that!"

"We all...stop someday. For some it's just sooner rather than later. Anyway, from to the sublime to the ridiculous. This has given me to take off my shoes, for tonight anyway. I hope you'll join me? He toed off his shoes and crawled into the double sleeping bag, leaving the side with the pillow for Mara.

"You are such a gentleman, but I don't need a pillow, when I can rest my head on your shoulder...if you don't mind and it won't hurt you..." she trailed off uncertainly.

"Get in bed, woman," he mock-growled at her.

She got in, but made sure he had the pillow first. She compromised and used her backpack as a pillow.

Closing her eyes to the darkness around her, she took a deep breath. She could smell Rafe, who smelled surprisingly un-rank after being cooped up in less than hospitable circumstances for several days. She commented on it, "You smell good."

"Hah!"

"You do. Here, I'll prove it." She slid closer and sniffed his shoulder. "Not bad considering."

"I do have access to a bathroom, you know," he said, slightly miffed. "What I don't have access to is clean clothes."

"You want to take them off? Let them air out overnight?"

"I don't know if that would be smart..."

"You know me. I'll probably wake up at the crap, er I mean, crack of dawn, especially with the big window facing northeast."

"You're just trying to get me naked."

"Rafe, I'm not trying to seduce you."

"Hah!"

"Okay, maybe a little."

"So explain to me, Ms. Pitts, just how do you seduce someone just a little?"

"Like this." She propped herself up on one elbow and brushed a strand of hair off his face. She leaned in and kissed him on the forehead, then on his good eye and ever so gently, his blackened eye. "I love this nose," she murmured, kissing the bridge and then the tip of it.

Slowly she moved in and lightly kissed his mouth. Then she lay back down. "That's how I seduce someone a little."

"Nope, overshot 'a little' by a large margin into 'a lot.' Your simplest touch..." he paused. He brought her hand up to his mouth and began planting lingering kisses on it. When he sucked one finger into his mouth, Mara shivered with the sensation that shot through her whole body from that simple touch.

"You're cold?" he asked. "Get closer Mara, I promise I won't bite...unless you ask me very nicely."

She softly laughed, a husky sound that let him know how much his attentions to her hand had moved her.

"Come closer," he murmured again.

She slid right next to him, and he put his arm behind her head. They were so close that their entire sides, from ribcage on down were touching.

"It's nice to have someone else churning out the body heat in this joint besides me," he whispered in her ear, then kissed it. She sighed and rolled to put her arm around his waist.

"Ah, ah, ah," he warned, and took her arm and turned her back flat on her stomach. "If you're hugging me, I can't touch you like I want to."

"How...do you want to touch me?"

"Like this." Rafe stroked her face and trailed down her neck, to her collar bone. He rolled toward her and slipped open the top button of her blouse. "And this," as he kissed the skin at the top of her sternum. "And this" Slipping a couple more buttons opened, he kissed between her breasts.

Mara felt her breathing speed up. Such simple touches, and yet she was turning into a warm limbless puddle at the hands and lips of this man.

Rafe untucked and unbuttoned the rest of her shirt. He was delighted to see that she was wearing a pretty, lacy front-clasp bra. Undoing the clasp, he cradled her right breast with one hand. He ran a thumbnail lightly over the nipple.

She didn't know if it was the situation they were in, or her relief to know that he felt something for her, but she had never been turned on by a touch so quickly. She arched her back up, pressing her breast into his hand.

He ran his tongue around the nipple of her other breast, then drew back, causing her to gasp and arch toward him.

"Oh, god, Rafe," she sighed and tangled her hand in his hair when he dipped back down to caress her breast with his tongue again. He suckled the nipple more firmly and she arched up toward him again. "God, Rafe. We've got...to stop. This isn't a..." he cut off her protest by kissing her.

His hand worked its way down her waist and around to the front, until it found the snap to her jeans. He unsnapped them, then his hand wandered back up again, to fondle her breasts, alternating between them, as he continued his compelling kiss.

They broke off when both felt the need to draw a breath. She undulated toward his hand, silently begging for more attention to her breast. He drew the nipple of the other breast into his mouth, this time. His wandering hand made its way down to the front of her jeans, unzipping them.

Slowly, so slowly, that she would have berated him for his slowness had the circumstances been different, his hand slid into her underwear. His middle finger found her cleft and slid in, searching for her clitoris.

He rubbed the one finger up and down, slower than she could bear, as she writhed under his hand. She groaned as he slid that one finger into her vagina and let it rest there, his thumb just in contact with her nub. Her hips bucked up toward his hand. He left it there, unmoving.

"God, Rafe, do something, I'm, I'm dying here."

"You're looking for the little death?" he asked lifting his mouth from her breast. His breath on her damp nipple made her shiver. She reached her hand towards his to try to get him to move. "Don't," he stopped her with a word.

Mara lay her hand back down beside her, where it clutched at the sleeping bag as he stroked her leisurely, apparently in no hurry. He slid two fingers into her, then a third, and she gasped at the full feeling. "Too much," she gasped. He slid his fingers out, but reinserted his index and ring finger into her, his thumb still stroking her nub.

"Let me...guess," she panted, "You played piano...when you...were.. a kid... a veritable...prodigy...with your...hands aaauaghh. She groaned out as she felt the beginnings of her orgasm.

He felt her muscles clench his fingers and he slid them out of her, teasing her nether lips, but not quite ever touching her where she most wanted to be touch.

"You...tease! Please..."

"Please, what?"

"Please, just please."

"Please what, Mara. I want to hear you say it. Your voice is so sexy when you're aroused. I want to hear you tell me. Tell me. Just. What. You. Want."

She blushed furiously at his request, but breathed out, "Please, please put your fingers in me, in my vagina. Oh!"

"Okay, now what else would you like me to do? Do stop moving your hips around, if you can," he dared her. She could see his wicked smile glint at her in the city-lit twilight.

Mara let out a half-groan, half sigh as she tried to stop her hips from moving. She almost succeeded, except for the persistent tremors of pleasure that ran through her whole body, starting from where Rafe's hand rested.

"Well?" he prompted.

"Please...rub my clitoris...with your thumb..likebefore, ohgodyes..."

"Since you asked so nicely I could hardly refuse, now could I?" He started plunging his fingers in and out of her.

She shuddered and shuddered, no longer able to keep her hips still. He pressed and circled her nub more firmly. She opened her mouth and gasped out, "Rafe, love you. Her gasp turned into a keen of pleasure. He covered her mouth with his to keep her cry from sounding very loudly in the room, as he felt her internal muscles spasm strongly and rhythmically against his fingers.

Rafe lightened his touch on her clitoris, but kept a steady pressure on it, prolonging her orgasm. When she calmed to mere tremulousness, he pulled her close, holding her, feeling her body vibrate with the aftershocks of pleasure.

Mara felt as limp as a very cooked noodle, as she caught her breath in Rafe's arms. She angled her head upward and lightly nipped his earlobe. "So do I get to return the pleasure?" she breathed into his ear.

She felt rather than heard his sigh of pleasure. "I hope you do feel...up...to it, you were so...inspiring just now," she husked into his ear.

"Hell, woman. Are you trying to kill me?" he murmured under his breath.

"What was it you were saying about little deaths?" she asked as she pushed him back on his back.

"If you're going to do anything, do it quickly. You falling apart was such a turn on, well, these jeans aren't very comfortable right now."

"Let's see what we can do about that." she sat up and undid his belt and opened the button and fly of his jeans. Running her hand over his erection, she laughed a little, "What. No silk boxers today, just tighty-whities? Not that I'm complaining. Here." She tugged at the waistbands of his jeans and underwear. "Let's just slide these out of the way."

Rafe lifted his hips, flinching a bit at the strain on his ribs, but he wasn't going to stop her now. Not when she had such a determined...interested...gleam in her eye. He wanted to feel her lovely warm mouth around him. He helped her guide his underwear down over his erection.

She slid his jeans down, just past his buttocks. "Now. It's your turn to...hold...still." She pinned his hips down with her hands and licked the underside of his cock, using her full tongue firmly against it. He groaned in response.

Surprising him, she suddenly slid her mouth down over his penis, slowly sliding it in further as she relaxed her throat muscles. He shuddered with pleasure as she took him all the way in.

She slowly, painstakingly moved her mouth up and down on his cock. One hand stilled his hips, and the other went down to fondle his balls, running her fingernails gently over his flesh. His hips jerked and she lifted her mouth off of him. "Ah, ah. What did I ask you to do? Let's see if you can hold your hips still, Mr. Moretti."

Leaning back over him, she enveloped him with her mouth. His hand found her hair and tangled up in it stroking her head as she sucked on him. His eyes rolled back in his head at the sensations she was evoking.

She sped up her attentions and he found he could no longer keep his hips still. He bucked up to meet her mouth as she went down on him. The hand that was torturously fondling his balls snuck a finger behind them and rubbed his perineum, stimulating him further.

He groaned quietly as his thrusting quickened and became uneven. She could feel his balls start to tighten up, and became more vigorous in her licking and sucking. Another long, sotto voce groan sigh came from Rafe as he spent in her mouth. She swallowed and kept licking and sucking at him as he shuddered beneath her.

Pulling up the covers over them both, she put her head on his shoulder and listen to him catch his breath. "Now, I'd say it's bedtime for Mr. Moretti."

"Amen," Mr. Moretti responded on a long sigh.

Soon, they fell asleep, huddled closely together, half unclothed.

Chapter 19 -- I Must Have Dreamed A Thousand Dreams

A/N: Still in PG-13 land. I suspect everything from here on out may be a strong R, or worse. You have been warned...



oh lordy,
trouble so hard
oh lordy,
trouble so hard,
don't nobody know
my troubles but God

Moby - Natural Blues

Chapter 19 -- I Must Have Dreamed A Thousand Dreams

Rafe pulled Mara more tightly into his arms. They stood in silence, taking comfort in each other's presence.

They broke apart, and turned toward the door when they heard the key in the door. The Assassin stepped into the room with the promised first aid kit. "I'll be back with some food for you later." With that, he left.

"That's it?? A stupid first aid kit and a promise of food! How long have you been up here? What's...?" Mara sputtered.

"Shh. I've been up here about three days."

"Why did they kidnap you? Why in God's name did they beat you?"

"Don Lombardo seems to think I know something about the whereabouts of his son, Giancarlo."

"Who is this mystery son? Kevin seemed to think that Lombardo was after you for something, but nobody knew what. I've had a crash course in everything you've written in the past five years, Lombardo AND the Chicago Outfit. I don't remember any mention of the man having a son or any offspring."

"Maybe he's trying to protect The Outfit from Giancarlo's extrafamilial activities."

Mara raised an eyebrow at Rafe, "So?"

"Young Giancarlo is interested in more adventuresome activities than the usual run of the mill racketeering, blackmail and embezzlement -- the white collar crimes The Outfit usually indulges in. He's into robbing banks, and perhaps drugs as well."

"So what do you have to do with this...family feud?"

"Let me go back a bit. I need to tell you what I know. We can compare notes then, and see if we can make any more sense of this mess."

"Let me take care of you first, while there's still daylight. There's a fixture up there, but no light bulb, so I suspect it must get pretty dark?"

"Yes. The only room with a working light in this...apartment, or whatever it was is in the bathroom. I'd probably not look so frightful, because there is running water. However there's no mirror, and I was concerned about doing more damage. I can't tell if there's a cut mixed in with my shiner, and..."

Mara put her hand up to his mouth and smiled, "You're starting to sound like me when I get nervous. Come. Show me where this lovely dee-luxe bathroom is in this suite. Let's clean you up a bit and then we can sort through what's going on."

He took her hand and lead her to one of the doors along the walls of the room. "This is the only one that opens. I don't know what's in the rest of them, if anything. All the other doors are locked." He opened the bathroom door and flipped on the light.

What may have at one time been an opulent bathroom was illuminated. Tiled in a soft aqua with matching sink and toilet, Mara saw. "That is such a gorgeous color. And it looks like real ceramic tile, none of that faux plastic stuff. Nice." She commented when she saw the spot where a bathtub presumably had stood. All that was left was a capped drain in the floor and two capped pipes. "Guess the tub musta been something, if it was taken out so neatly."

Rafe chuckled. "I had a feeling when I saw the color scheme for this room, that you'd covet it. What is it about you and that shade anyway?"

"You must think I'm incredibly silly, drooling over the bathroom where we're being held as...prisoners? or whatevers? Kidnapees? No, that would be just you, I came of my own free will."

"Jesus, Mara! You're nuts!"

"Yes, I know. And probably certifiable. I'm adding to your worries by being here, but when Mr. Anonymous Assassin told me he knew where you were, I could NOT not go with him."

She ran the water in the sink for a few minutes, and pulled the knob to shut the drain, letting the sink fill. "Wow, I'm surprised. This water is actually hot. Wonder where they've got the water heater stashed?"

"Aren't we lucky? All the comforts of home," Rafe interjected with false sincerity.

"Come in here." She grabbed a wash cloth off the towel rack. "Hey, nice towels, too!"

"How hot is that water?"

"Not too hot, I'm a wuss when it comes to hot water, at least for bathing or washing my hands. I make the exception for washing dishes, of course, as well you know," she mock-boasted.

"Yeah, and that tepid stuff you call coffee. How you can drink it after it's been sitting there and cold..."

"I thought iced coffee was trendy! Now, enough chatter, come here!" She took him by the hand and pulled him into the bathroom. Putting the lid down on the toilet, she said, "Sit. You're too tall for me to reach up. I wonder if there's anything antibacterial in that first aid kit I can add to this water, though it does smell nice and chlorine-filled. Chicago water, amazing stuff, you can drink AND swim in it. Can you tip your head back a bit?" She smoothed his long dark hair off his face, securing it in back with a rubber band.

She looked through the kit and saw it was a fairly standard kit. Though there were some unexpected additions, the most notable being the 3 inch wide surgical tape and way too much gauze for the average kit.

Mara pulled out the roll of tape and its twin. "Good. We can use this to tape your ribs just in case there's anything broken and not just bruised. It will be easier for you to breath."
She put them back into the box. Riffling around the case some more, she found an antibacterial ointment as well as liquid antibacterial soap. She put the ointment on the side of the sink, and added some of the liquid soap to the water in the sink, swirling it around with her washcloth.

Wringing most of the water out of the washcloth, she started cleaning the blood off Rafe's face. He flinched a little when she cleaned the cut made by Lombardo's ring. Other than that, he kept his face blank. When she was done with the washcloth, she dabbed some of the ointment on the cuts, and covered up the ones on his cheeks with the small butterfly bandages she found. "That one cut is kinda deep. I hope it won't scar."

Rafe gave her a lopsided grin. "It'll just give my face more character."

"Oh, you've plenty enough character without that! There," she put on the last bandaid. "I really can't do much about the cut in the corner of your mouth, or the small one on your lower lip..."

"You can kiss it better..."

Mara giggled and complied, planting a chaste kiss on his upturned face. "Now, off with that shirt..."

"Wow, one kiss and you're ripping off my clothes? Whatever happened to foreplay?"

"I thought guys weren't all that much into foreplay," she quipped in return.

"This one is! I am not one of those wholly penile focused types who think sex is all about intercourse, I'll have you know."

She blushed as she looked him in the eye. "I do know," she murmured, surprised at the warmth she felt building in her lower belly. "Now, off with that shirt," she ordered again, to distract herself.

And was distraught to see the bruising on Rafe's torso. "Holy Mary, Mother of God. Did they go at you with a crowbar or something. My God!"

"No, nothing that forceful. Just fists. Oh, yeah and one guy got a good kick in, but other than that, it was pretty traditional. Now hurry up and tape my ribs, woman, I would like to be able to draw a deep breath with minimal pain."

Mara looked at him, horrified for him, for what he had been through. She gently ran her hand over the worst bruise that she could see. "Is this the extent of it? Or...?" she lowered her gaze down his torso significantly.

"No, they were kind, they didn't harm the family jewels. They were more interested in me talking than puking my guts out on their shoes."

Mara shuddered, her face flinching up in sympathy. "Please stand up. Can you raise your arms up to about shoulder level?" He complied and she taped up his ribs, running her hands over her handiwork when she was done.

"Hey, that tickles," protested Rafe.

She drew back, "Okay, I won't make you laugh, you might not enjoy the experience at the moment."

"No, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't. Thank you for your help." He pulled her close into a warm hug.

The door leading to the hallway rattled again, this time with Mr. Assassin returning with pop, hamburgers and french fries. Mara and Rafe had moved out of the bathroom to watch as he set the bags of food down in the same spot where he had put down the first aid kit. He turned to one of the guards and retrieved another sleeping bag and a pillow.

"I see how you rate. You get a pillow," Rafe murmured in Mara's ear, closely watching the man all the while. The man left as quietly as he had come in, with a pleasant smile for Rafe and a half-bow in Mara's direction. The door closed behind him, and was locked.

"Well, Rafe, our picnic awaits." She opened up the sleeping bag and spread it on the floor. She gestured to Rafe to have a seat as she eased her shoes off. As she sat down she saw that Rafe was sitting, with his shoes on, and his feet on the floor rather than the bag. "Would you rather I kept my shoes on?" Mara asked.

"I've been keeping mine on, just in case there might have been a chance to escape. Hasn't done me any good, though." He shrugged and toed off his shoes as well, turning more fully onto the sleeping bag cum table cloth.

Mara was busy parceling out the food. "They have fed you prior to this, right?"

"Yes they've been feeding me. One night I even dined on Taco Bell. It's been pretty much two meals a day, one for lunch and one for dinner. I keep wishing they'd bring some good coffee, but maybe they're worried I'd throw it at them and scald my way out of here. Then they'd probably sue me and whatever restaurant of finer dining they procured the coffee from for damages."

"Maybe I can talk them into some coffee tomorrow. It would be nice to have something warm to sip on. Or maybe I can talk them into tea bags and we can run the tap water hot enough to steep the tea..."

Rafe made a face at the last comment.

"Okay, so no tap water tea. How do you feel about warm water and a slice of lemon...?"

"Other than I'd probably be living in the bathroom from drinking a steady amount?"

"It is supposed to be good for your digestive system first thing in the morning. But I've found that coffee works just as well to get everything, er, moving, as it were."

"Why Mara, is that a folk remedy taught you by Miss, or was it Mrs.? Simonson or one of her cronies?"

"No, actually I read about it somewhere. I don't remember now. I think it might have been the Tribune the last time I was here in Chicago a few years back," she smirked.

"Touché," Rafe raised his right hand accepting the hit. "No more snotty comments about the resident storm lady. She was pretty damn accurate with that blizzard... Hey. What's wrong? What did I say?"

Mara's face had fallen at the mention of the blizzard. "No, you didn't say anything, I guess I was just remembering how cosy I was, we were," she amended, "All snug in bed while the weather did what it willed outside."

"You know, we could probaby recreate that experience here," Rafe said in a teasing voice.

She looked up at him in surprise. "Er, last time I checked, I didn't see a bed up here..."

"After we're done eating, I'll take a look and see if these two sleeping bags can be zipped together. That would be a lot more cozy than sleeping each in our own."

Mara felt her heart flutter, thinking about sleeping beside Rafe again. She then chided herself, he was hurt, they were kidnapped and here she was thinking about...

Rafe was watching her face. "Okay, what just ran through your head? I saw your eyes light up, and then dim. Sorry there's no mattress in here. They probably think I'd pull out one of the springs and pick that thrice damned lock or something."

"It wasn't that. I was just...thinking thoughts...inappropriate to the time and place." She blushed, and cursed her fair skin for giving her away like that.

He mock-leered at her. "And what is Ms. Pitts thinking of? Was she thinking of taking advantage of poor little old me?"

"Well, now that you mention it," she chuckled in response. "But that's not feasible, your ribs," she gestured at his torso and trailed off.

"Hmmm. Oh well. Hope springs eternal. Are you done with that?" He grabbed the now empty burger wrappers and fry envelopes and threw them back into the fast food bag. "I'd like to take a look and see if we can assemble our love nest here..."

Mara grinned at him, and shook her head. He continued to meet and pass her humor keeping both their spirits up in a dire situation.

Rafe stood up slowly, favoring his ribs.

"How's your leg?" asked Mara suddenly as she stood and stepped off the bag.

"Fine as far as I know. I haven't had a chance to see if it can predict weather yet, but you never know."

"To the best of my knowledge that only happens where there's a broken bone or arthritis or some other degenerative disease involved with the joints."

"Groovy. My ribs will be able to do forecasts. I'll be able to make twice as much money, both as a reporter and a meteorologist. Life is good!" He carried the sleeping bag over to his and managed to mate up the zippers of both bags, effectively creating a 'double bed.'

"Do you think you've a broken rib or two?"

"Probably. Could have sworn I felt something shifting every time I breathed too deeply or turned too suddenly. Great! This works," gesturing at the two sleeping bags, he disconnected them when he was certain Mara approved. "Here, wrap yourself up in this. I know you've got a jacket, but it gets kinda cold and damp up here after sunset."

"Where would you like to sit?" she asked. "I don't suppose there's anything that we could pretend was a heat register or radiator."

"Nope."

"I'd suggest we sit in the bathroom and run some hot tap water, enough to warm it up, but then we'd probably end up damp from the steam and it's already clammy enough in here. I'd forgotten how humid it here because of the lake."

"I've been sitting over here," he gestured towards the wall, next to the window. "So I could look outside and try to figure out where the hell I am. Well I know I'm someplace south side, look, you can see Navy Pier..." They sat and wrapped themselves up in the sleeping bags.

"Just like at Kevin and Lara's. You've seen their view, haven't you? It's gorgeous."

"So is that where you've been bunking up since you arrived in Chicago? When did you get in?"

"A couple of days ago. Lara and I had a long talk. Okay, she talked at me until I...spilled the beans about us. Then she invited me out here for an impromptu vacation. Only when I got into town, my favorite reporter had mysteriously disappeared, so that almost ruined my vacation..." she chortled half-heartedly.

"Lara knows? Good Lord, we'll never hear the end of it!"

"I hope it's okay? She'd make a hell of a good correspondent herself, the way she weaseled information out of me. I should have known she

"I'm not mad. I figured Kevin knew something was up when I showed up in Chicago looking a bit like death warmed over." He grabbed Mara's hand. "I think he thought I would be in better shape, but it's hard to be 100 percent when you've left your heart somewhere else." Bringing her hand up to his lips, he kissed it.

Mara felt the warmth of the kiss start warming her up all over again. He gently pulled on her hand, and she scooted closer to him in response. Putting his arm around her shoulders, he said, "So what do you think is going on? Or, let me rephrase that, what did you discover in your research?"

"Hmmm. First off, Mr. Moretti, I'm not hurting your ribs am I?" at his negative shake of head, she continued, "*you* are one hell of a writer. I knew you were good when you wrote those articles for the Prairiedog, but wow! That series of articles about gangs and drugs that seems to have landed us in this mess? That's Pulitzer material."

He looked surprised, "You really think so?"

"Okay, no false modesty here, you're a good writer, no, a great writer."

"I guess I never thought in terms of whether I was a good writer, it's more been a thing of polishing till the story shines."

"It shows. So what did you find out during your research on that?"

"I did comment on Giancarlo Lombardo, but it never dawned on me, I never put it together that Don Carlo was related. There're so many Lombardos and Morettis and Margaglianos around this town. I should have known better. Damn, I should have known."

"And so the Don kidnapped you because he thinks you know where Sonny-boy is? Aren't you happy he seems to have made the connection?" she asked, half teasingly?

They continued discussing the various possibilities and fretting over whether Giancarlo was at all findable, when Mara suddenly yawned largely.

Rafe grinned at her. "All right. It's bed time for Ms. Pitts," he announced, standing up and offering her a hand up.

Chapter 18 -- Neither Rhyme Nor Reason

A/N:PG-13 for language and alcohol usage...

With a promise dealer, understand:
All freedoms fade away
To a point of view
Where many different pathways meet.
And we're standing on this precipice
With nothing much to save
But the deep blue screams
Of falling dreams
With our next move

Arcadia - The Promise


Chapter 18 -- Neither Rhyme Nor Reason

The black Lincoln Continental was like many other such cars, black, anonymous. The windows were tinted on all sides, whoever was inside could look out, but no one could look in, save to see the driver through the windshield.

Mara knew no one would be able to see her in the back seat with the man who was her... Captor? Keeper of secrets? There was a glass window between the backseat and the front.

How did he know about Rafe? Why did he know about her? A thousand questions flew through her startled mind. She couldn't pick one to ask. Except..

"So, you know my name is Mara. What's your name? Yeah, yeah, you probably can't tell me, but make up something. It's kinda scary for me here, you know, riding in car with one guy who tells me he knows where Rafe is. And an equally anonymous chauffeur. Ah, shit, I'm rambling. I'll shut up now, okay? Okay?

"Don't worry Ms. Pitts, you're safe..." said the man sitting in the back seat with her.

"For now, don't you mean, for now?

"I can't say anything about the future Ms. Pitts. But you are safe for now. Would you like a drink?" He pressed a button. A door slid open revealing a bar in the back seat. Mara looked at it, surprised. She hadn't thought Continentals came with such amenities, only stretch limos.

The man poured a splash of scotch over some ice. "Name your poison. There is a small, but nice selection in here."

"Poison. You wouldn't p-p-poison me, would you?" Mara almost started giggling with mild hysterics, but bit her lower lip instead.

"Just let me know what you want. No poison involved other than alcohol itself in excess being a sort of poison."

"All right. A vodka Martini. Like James Bond, you know with all this cloak and dagger, and well, whatever..." she ground to a halt.

The dark haired man, she had had a chance to take a closer look at him, held out a small bottle of vodka and a small bottle of vermouth. They were the small bottles, like one would purchase for a drink while flying. Mara looked them over closely and handed them back, satisfied that the small bottles hadn't been tampered with.

The man himself was ordinary looking. Dark hair, dark eyes, but other than that, there was nothing particularly striking about him. 'It would be a bitch to pick him out in a line-up,' she thought to herself, shuddering. A little too ordinary looking. A man like that could be an assassin, a doer of dirty work for others.

He quickly made a vodka martini for her. She took it from him and the cocktail napkin he proffered her, her hand only shaking slightly. "You didn't poison the pimento in that olive did you?"

The man broke out laughing. "Ms. Pitts, with your paranoia, I doubt anyone could get anything past you!"

"Actually, it would probably be terribly easy for you to get anything past me, I'm used to small town life, no one's offered me a ride to who knows where in South Dakota."

"Pittsville. Lovely little town."

Mara looked at him, startled, "You were in Pittsville? When?"

"Oh, no, I wasn't. I'm a little too... shall we say I look and sound like I belong in a big city. Would you like a cigarette?"

She shook her head in negation. She looked at him, and realized, while she would never be able to pick him out in a line up, she would recognize his strong Chicago accent anywhere.

"I just saw some pictures, googled 'Pittsville' on the Internet."

"Googled..."

"It's amazing what you can find out there. Just type in a word and pictures come up for it."

"Who was in Pittsville?"

"Ah. That I don't know. Just someone Don Lombardo sent out there. Probably a couple, so they'd look like tourists just passing through. We were interested, you know, to find out what Mr. Moretti found so...interesting in South Dakota."

"I-I can't imagine anything being that interesting in South Dakota, I mean, I love living there, the prairie is beautiful, there's Mount Rushmore on the west end of the state, plenty of neat historical stuff..."

"Try your drink, see if it's okay."

Mara took a sip, then a bigger one, trying to settle her nerves. Instead it was too big a sip and she started coughing as the alcohol burned down her throat. The man took the drink out of her hand.

"You all right?" he asked solicitously.

"I...(cough) will be (cough) give me a sec," she gasped out. "What...the hell was in that drink? Everclear?"

"That, Ms Pitts, is Spirytus Wesoly, one of Poland's fine vodkas, weighing in at a 150 proof."

"I wish you had warned me. Where are we going? When..."

"Here's your drink. We'll get there when we get there. Shouldn't be long now."

Mara gave up trying to pry any information out of Mr. Anonymous Assassin as she had dubbed him in her head. She had noticed through the opening in his jacket that he was wearing a side holster. Whether or not he was actually armed, she couldn't tell. She sipped her drink and rubbed the spot between her eyebrows, trying to get rid of the tension headache that was trying to form there and in her neck.

She glanced out the side window then the front. The car was heading in a southerly direction. 'Damn, the South side, which I know diddley squat about. How the frick am I going to get out of this one? What the hell.' She thought as she tossed back her drink, this time just barely keeping from coughing.

A warm buzz started in her stomach moving to her head. 'Damn,' she thought, 'they DID poison me. No, no dumbshit, that's 150 proof you just tossed back. When was the last time you had anything stronger than wine?'

The car eventually pulled into a parking garage under what was apparently an apartment building. Mara sighed. She had been unable to pick out anything about the building or the immediate side streets, hell, she didn't even know which street she was on.

She let out a very small hiccup, startling herself. She looked wide-eyed, at Mr. Assassin and covered her mouth with her hand. She hiccupped again.

He chuckled, a surprisingly friendly chuckle for someone who was probably going to kill her, and relieved her of her drink. He then handed her a glass of water. "Here. Drink that down all at once. That will stop your hiccups AND water down some of that booze you just swallowed. Let me guess. You don't drink."

Mara took the glass from him, "I do, but not usually anything stronger than wine or beer, though some of Grove's home grown beer can pack a bit of a punch, it sorta sneaks up on you, you know and..."

"Pinch your nose and chug-a-lug that down. The sooner you drink it, the sooner you'll see your...friend."

Mara, pot-valiant, said, "I don't like what you're insi-sinuating."

"C'mon lady, drink up."

"this isn't poisoned is-si it?"

"No. Just water."

"Okay." She hiccupped again, took a deep breath, pinching her nose. As quickly as she could she drank down the large glass of water. Her lungs were just starting to demand fresh oxygen when she finished, with a gasp.

"Hey, that worked!" she said, surprised.

"Great. Now let's get out of the car, nice and slow."

Mara shuddered, sobering up slightly as she realized that she was still in deadly danger. She heard the lock on her door pop, probably by the chauffeur, as there was no way to unlock the door from her side, anyway.

She opened the door and got out, dragging her backpack slowly out behind her. Suddenly it dawned on her that she could probably use it as a weapon...and looked up and met the eyes of the Anonymous Assassin. He was grinning at her, as if he could read her mind. He quirked an eyebrow that said 'try it, won't bother me, there's two of us and one of you...'

She looked away, suddenly feeling even more vulnerable and stupid for coming along with this man so blithely.

"You ready?"

"As much as I guess I ever will be..."

"Good." He came around the car, and once again took a hold of her upper arm, leading her to an elevator. The three of them got in, with the chauffeur pressing the button for the top floor.

The elevator seemed to drag itself slowly upward. She thought they would never get to the top floor.

Mr. Assassin saw her eyeing the floor numbers changing. "This used to be a rather posh place to live. Apparently the architect thought a slower elevator equalled posh or something."

She essayed a shaky smile as the elevator finally came to a halt on the top floor. Great. She now knew she was on the 40th floor of an apartment building in a city with many such buildings.

Her abductor and she stepped out of the elevator. The chauffeur peered out to make sure that the guards were still next to the door at the end of a short hall, then stepped back into the elevator, letting the door slide shut.

During the short walk to the door, Mara could feel herself starting to shake harder. What was behind that door? They stopped walking just in front of the door, one of the guards taking her backpack. He rifled through it quickly, pulling out her pens and pencils, and anything else that could be possibly used as weapon. Zipping it shut, he handed it back to her.

The other guard pulled out a key and opened a door. Mr. Assassin gestured her to go in first. She took a deep breath and stepped in.

And saw Rafe. She gasped and dropped her backpack and ran to him across the large empty room.

"Oh my god, oh my god, you're alive." she threw her arms around him and hugged him, but stepped back quickly when he flinched.

"Mara." he said with a defeated tone of voice.

She got a closer look at his face. "Oh no, you're hurt, and shit, I'm sorry I hurt you when I hugged you, dear god, I'm so sorry..."

"Mara, shhh. It's all right."

Tears started rolling down her face. The happiness that she had felt upon seeing him quickly crystalized into a righteous indignation when she saw his bruised and bloodied face. "What have they done to you? Did they even do anything...?"

She wheeled around and ran back to the door where The Assassin and the guards were still standing. "What happened to him?" she demanded. The words and tears started coming out of her in a torrent, "My God, you've beat the hell out of him, and then left him up here, in this gloomy hole of an apartment, I don't care just how posh this place used to be, it's COLD in here. Could you at least get me a first aid kit, you...you..." she ran out of words as her anger threatened to overwhelm her.

The Assassin grinned at her and gestured for the two guards to out. "I'll be back in a minute. I believe there's a first aid kit down in the car." He stepped through the door and she could hear them locking it again.

Shaking her head at her own folly, she turned and walked back to Rafe. "Oh love, I'm so sorry, God how horrid for you..."

Rafe silenced her with a gentle kiss, which she broke away from, tasting blood. "Your poor mouth, oh, how I want to kiss you, but, but..."

Rafe shook his head and grinned a half grin at her. "Mother Hen," he teased.

Those two words caused Mara to burst into sobbing, as the emotional floodgates she had kept so carefully closed for the last few days burst open. "How could you leave me? How could you leave me without telling me?"

"Mara, I'm sorry. I... I just didn't want you even catching wind of this mess. Bad idea, I guess, huh?" He drew her close, letting her cry on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, love, I'm sorry. I didn't know, I didn't think I would hurt you like this."

She pulled herself away from him, her eyes blazing. "Damned straight you didn't think," she raged at him. "You just didn't THINK. Crap, I'm sorry, you're hurt, I didn't know if you were still alive, and here I am yelling at you like a fishwife..." she trailed off as he drew her close again.

"Mara. I'm so sorry. I don't know if this will make any difference, but I promised myself I'd tell you if I lived long enough..."

She stepped back, looked at him, her brown eyes sorrowful.

"Don't look at me like that, I can't stand it. Mara. Listen. I love you. Honey, I love you."

She held back another sob as she gently wrapped her arms around his waist. Kissing his cheek tenderly, she pulled him closer to the window. She brushed a long strand of hair out of his face. "You love me." she said, wonder in her voice. "You love me."

Yow, 35K+

Wh00t! (grabs a Miller Highlife and pops it open) Never ever ever ever thought I would make it this far. Now I hope I don't run out plot before I reach the Ultimate Goal.

Oh well, can always write gratuitous sex scenes. Those always seem to get the muse going.
Normal chapter: about 2000 words.
Chapter with sex scene: 3000+ words without a struggle.

Sigh. It's supposed to be a romance :-) , not pure erotica 8-D !!! Well, I'll take what I can get at this point!

Chapter 17 -- Research and Discovery

A/N: Rating = PG-13

She can see him on the jetty where they used to go
She can feel him in the places where the sailors go
When she's walking by the river and the railway line
She can still hear him whisper
Let's go down to the waterline

Dire Straits - Down To The Waterline

Chapter 17 -- Research and Discovery

Back at the library the next day, Mara set up today's carrel with her pens and pencil...and notebook. She grinned, remembering, as she pulled the notebook out of the backpack she had borrowed from Kevin.

When she had returned to the Kuntzlers' apartment the night before, she had found both Kevin and Lara in residence. Lara had given her a conspiratorial grin and rolled her eyes. Kevin was seated on the sofa, reading a book.

He looked up from it, and mock-scowled at Mara, "Ah, the prodigal guest returns!"

Mara had flinched, not sure if he was going to lecture or tease.

Kevin's expression became rueful when he saw her reaction. "Ms. Pitts, I have a feeling I know exactly what you've been up to today. However," he eyed her small handbag, "I find myself a bit bewildered as to how on earth you're stashing any kind of decent pad to write on in that bitty purse.

She had smiled and pulled out her fistful of scratch now rather crumpled after being shoved into a purse without a lot of room.

Kevin had burst out laughing, "I can do something about that." He opened a drawer in the coffee table and pulled out a steno pad and a notebook. "Choose your weapon."

Mara had reached for the notebook and he pulled it back from her, saying, "Ah-Ah! Before I give you any encouragement in what I presume your research is, promise me you'll come to me if you do find anything that looks like a lead. I don't want to have to answer to my wife here if something untoward happens to you."

Lara had merely grinned and rolled her eyes again. She was still concerned about Mara, but saw that the other woman looked much better today. Mara still looked under slept, but there was some color in her face and her eyes didn't look as dull.

"Okay, I promise," Mara had said, annoyed with herself that she was that transparent.

Kevin picked up on that and teased, "My dear Ms. Pitts, it's not rocket science. Mr. Moretti returns to Chicago. Mrs. Kuntzler contacts you to see...if you are alright. She, in the inimitable way women have of communicating with each other, pries the necessary information out of you and invites you to come out to Chicago. You, surprisingly, at least to me, jump at the chance. The only thing that still has me a bit puzzled about all this, and what I'm concerned about is: did you come out here to kick Rafe's butt or to save it?"

"Since at the time I didn't know he was in need of saving, Mr. Kuntzler," she teased in return, "You'll have to assume the former."

"Poor Rafe," Kevin had said, half seriously.

Mara had looked away from Kevin, exasperation clear on her features, "I'm not here to 'kick Rafe's butt' as you charmingly put it." Her eyes had filled with tears. "I'm not sure why I'm here except...Maybe I'm a crazy, lonely, old fool." She abruptly sat down in the armchair next to the sofa.

"All I know is Lara invited me and here I am." She covered her face with her hands, refusing to give into tears of loss and worry. Drawing a deep breath, and swiping at her eyes with her fingertips, she said, "And there you have it. When I figure it out, I'll let you know. I may be a writer, but I'm no poet and I'm afraid and mortified to find that there's poetry involved here. I have no use for that kind of thing, usually, except to read the occasional verse, and suddenly find myself looking for the right words... and all that comes out are the most banal clichés."

She had let out a watery giggle at that and grabbed a kleenex from the box that Lara offered her and blew her nose. Kevin smiled in understanding.

After a brief moment of silence, she asked, "So do you think Rafe is in need of rescue?"

Kevin shrugged, "I really couldn't tell you. He's usually pretty good about checking in every couple of days, but it isn't unheard of for him to not touch base for four or five days."

"And?" Mara had prodded, "What now?"

"Today is day four by my reckoning," Kevin slowly replied, "That means we can officially start to worry tomorrow evening. Okay? If I don't hear from him by tomorrow afternoon, I'll check with the Chicago Police Department to start filing a missing persons report."

"Okay. I think I can live with that."

They all sat in silence for a few minutes, then Lara had said in the most prosaic way possible, "Poetry and missing persons aside, dinner'll be ready in a few minutes, so come help me set the table..."

----------------

Mara at the library, found herself tearing up again, thinking about the kindness and understanding her friends were showing. Kevin hadn't read her a riot act after all, and was showing concern about Rafe's whereabouts.

After a couple of hours of sifting through articles, she stretched and felt her spine popping. Bleary eyed, she knew she couldn't read any more for a bit. She needed a break.

She packed up her backpack and headed out to walk around the city. After about 45 minutes of wandering, she found herself in Grant Park. Feeling the lake breeze on her face she started walking more purposefully in an easterly direction.

A bit later, she found herself on the Grant Park pier, which overlooked Lake Michigan. She walked along the pier, a bit surprised at the number of larger sailboats already moored there. Brave souls going out on the Lake in the spring. Wetsuits, wind and choppy waters with whitecaps, the boaters had to have a sense of adventure.

She sat down on the pier, dangling her feet over the edge. The sound of the waves and the occasional scree of a gull flying over head helped her relax from stress she hadn't even realized she was carrying.

Looking out at the mist rising over the lake, she was able to ignore the city sounds behind her. Not quite willingly, she slid into a day dream of Rafe. She had known he would be trouble the first time she set eyes on him, but little had she suspected that trouble would bring her back to Chicago, the city she had been forced to leave abruptly and hadn't visited since.

Rafe. His grin, his sarcasm, his smirk, his sweet smile, his intelligence, his sense of humor, she could go on and on about what she liked about him. And that just barely touched the tip of the iceberg.

She shivered in the damp breeze. Rafe certainly was no iceberg, but he had...such unsuspected depths. She had enjoyed just sitting around and talking with him, knowing that she most probably wouldn't have to explain anything she said. That camaraderie, and the sex, well, that had been mind-blowing.

She smiled sadly. Even if they never got back together, she certainly had enough fuel to feed her fantasies for the rest of her life. Closing her eyes against some tears that threatened, she realized just how long that life would feel, how long and how bleak, without Rafe in it.

Mara turned her mind towards a more pleasant fantasy than imagining her future without Rafe in it. His kisses, all their contrasts, gentle, passionate, devouring, she wished she were a poet so she could encompass everything he had made her feel with just the touch of his lips. She drifted in her mind imagining his kisses.

A particularly loud screech from a gull almost covered the sound of a footstep too near her for comfort, brought her out of her daydream. Her eyes snapped open and she looked around.

A man was standing to her left, not more than two yards away, apparently admiring the view of the Lake. She turned away to enjoy the view of the lake as well, mildly annoyed that out of all the many yards of lakefront pier, this person decided to stand so close. Oh, well, city folk were used to less space around them, so he probably didn't think he was in her space. But it felt like it to her.

The man sat down, drawing Mara's attention. She saw that he had moved even closer, and began to get perturbed. It was time to get back to the library anyway, so it was fortuitous that this stranger was invading her space.

"You're Mara Pitts," said the man with no doubt in his voice.

Mara twisted herself to look at him in shock, neither confirming nor denying. Though with the way he had said it, she was almost certain he knew who she was.

"Do I know you?" she quavered, her voice cracking in startled surprise.

"Nope. I do know someone that you're probably looking for, at least if your research at the Library was any indication."

She gasped. The man had evidently been following her, and she hadn't even noticed. She looked out at the Lake again, this time fighting tears. "Rafe," she murmured.

"That would be him."

"Where is he? Is he alive? What's going on? DO you know where he IS?" her voice rose with each question.

"Shh shh, keep it down. No need to announce our business to the whole park. In fact, it would probably be in your best interest not to attract any attention."

She looked at the man again, really seeing him. "Where is he?" she demanded in an undervoice.

"He's currently a guest of my boss."

"Can I see him? Take me to him. Now." she grated out, starting to shake with fear and adrenaline.

"As a matter of fact, I was hoping you would say that. Come with me."

Mara swallowed and stood up. The man took her arm, and started walking westward away from the lake. She was tempted to yank her arm away from him, but he didn't have a hostile grip on her upper arm, so she followed along.

'Like a sheep being led to the slaughter. Hell's Bells, Mara, what have you gotten yourself into now?' she thought.