Table of Contents

- PART 1

- PART 2

- PART 3

- PART 4

- PART 5

- PART 6

- PART 7

- PART 8

- PART 9

- PART 10

- PART 11

- PART 12

McKEE

By

A.C. HENLEY

Ebook by

PDAFiction.com

Disclaimers:

The characters of this fiction are the sole property of A.C. Henley. There is drama, violence, sex between women, and bad language. If any of these things upset you, move along. If you have good or bad things to say feel free to email me at

henleyac@yahoo.com.

Many thanks to Pam and ‘kisses' to Sherry.

Summary:

Just a little story about a PI. She has no special physical skills or supernatural skills. She finds plenty of trouble but in the end everything turns out just ducky.

McKEE

PART 1

ETTA JAMES SINGING A Sunday Kind of Love drifted from the speakers of the white '77 Chevelle as it sat parked along a busy Los Angeles thoroughfare. No one even gave the car or the driver a second glance as they went about their business. It was considered rude to intrude on the privacy of others in LA, and that included making direct eye contact with someone on the street. The trained eye of the driver, however did not subscribe to such a belief and took note of three drug dealers, seven prostitutes, two pimps, and four panhandlers, along with the midday bustle of hundreds of workers going about their afternoon rituals. All were just background noise. The watcher wasn't interested in anything except for the sweaty bald man that leaned against a taco stand on the corner. Gray eyes kept track of his every move from behind dark Wayfarer sunglasses. Where he looked, whom he spoke with, how much food he ordered, how he paid for his meal, the puzzle pieces fell into place in the drivers mind as she watched.

Her tanned hand ran over short, spiked, black hair. A glimmer of silver from slim fingers twinkled in the afternoon sun as the hand came back to rest on the large steering wheel. The other hand gently kept time with the bluesy music against a muscled thigh that was encased in faded ripped denim.

The man looked about nervously, even looking directly at the driver of the car, who just stared passively back at him not caring if he knew he was being followed or not. He jerked his eyes away from the white car, trying desperately to mask the fear that welled up from that brief look. He gathered his bagged food and headed down the crowded walk hoping to fade into the lunchtime mass of humanity.

She watched her prey as he wove in and out of the pedestrians. Giving the man just long enough to believe he had eluded the watcher, the big V8 engine came to life and the white car pulled into traffic.

The man huffed his way warily around a corner and leaned against the warm masonry of a long ago abandoned building. He watched as the car passed him and continued down the congested street. It passed through the next light and seemed to continue on. He sighed in relief, and then felt foolish for his behavior, thinking his paranoia was at an all time high and that he needed to just relax. He stood from his leaning position and continued down the side street unaware of the other set of eyes that now tracked him.

Quang Ngo was a slight man. He was commonly non-descript and could blend in well with the crowded Los Angeles sidewalks. When his victims had been asked to give a description of him the best they could come up with would be Asian, with black hair. His mother was American, his father second generation Vietnamese in this country. He took after his father in stature and coloring; his mother had gifted him with, or was it cursed him with, green eyes that he hid behind mirrored sunglasses, or dark brown contacts. He could pass for anything from Korean to Chinese if need be, and spoke six different oriental dialects to cover all his bases. He had actually only been caught once in his sordid criminal life. That one time brought him to understand how he was affecting society with his behavior, and bringing shame to his family. It also was the reason why he was walking thirty feet behind the man he had been detailed to follow. It was called a ‘favor', but it was actually penance — penance he accepted with great humility. And after all it was kind of fun, Quang had found he was good at following people, finding out their little secrets, and reporting back the minute details to his benefactor. He was always paid for his time, although he often wondered about that. Why should he be paid for anything he did for the one person that quite frankly saved his life, and possibly his soul?

The little man continued on his way for several more blocks, until he came to a redbrick, four stories, and hotel. The building told its age by its wood-paned windows and iron fire escape that zigzagged it's way down the front of the building. An ornate concrete molding ran the course of the roof; Quang thought the little creatures at the corners looked to be fabled gargoyles.

He crossed the street and was able to read the faded sign hanging over the double glass doors that were encased in iron bars. He leaned against the large glass window of a liquor store and lit a cigarette. He then produced a cell phone from his pocket. A short conversation later the phone found its way back into its pocket. Quang now waited. He knew it wouldn't be long, and actually only got two drags off his cigarette before the big white car came to a stop in front of him.

The car's occupant emerged and walked to stand beside him. Slender fingers liberated the burning cigarette from his mouth and helped it find its way under a black boot. He looked indignant as he lowered his mirrored glasses to glare at the woman beside him.

"A filthy habit," the woman said with a shake of her head, "I thought you were gonna quit?"

Quinlan McKee was not a tall woman, nor was she overly burly. She was even a tad shorter than Quang's modest 5'6''. But she had an atmosphere about her that demanded respect. And Quang did respect her, but that didn't prevent him form reaching out and tapping the square patch on her shoulder, exposed by the black tank top she wore neatly tucked into her jeans. "I'm just waiting to see how you do with this. I'm not spending no sixty bucks for a band aid that doesn't work; shit McKee that's twice a carton of cigs!"

Black sunglasses were pushed up to rest in the thick black spikes of hair. "You are a coward Mr. Ngo." Gray eyes pierced green. Quinlan liked the kid. He turned out to be the best backup out of all the people she had to choose from. He had come a long way in the four years they had been associates. She knew without a doubt she could trust the man with her very life if need be.

"Nope… I'm cautious." Quang retorted solidly. "And you owe me a cigarette."

McKee smiled, flashing straight white teeth. "I'll see what I can dig out of my couch when I get home." She looked over at the hotel, "think he's had time to settle in?"

Quang pursed his lips in thought and finally answered, "Sure sure, by the time we find out what room he's in he should be settling down to chow."

McKee nodded. The two pushed off the window and crossed the street, dodging the indifferent traffic. Quang stayed a few feet behind the woman as they entered the building. He knew his job at this point was to watch her back as she worked. This freed her up to do what she needed without distraction. His eyes traveled to the .45 pistol tucked in the back of her jeans. He had never seen her shoot the weapon, but had been on the end of that very gun one time. He shivered at the memory.

The door opened with a clank, then settled closed with an agonizing squeak. McKee stepped up to the counter that was lit by a bare bulb that swung in the wind caused by the inadequate fan that wobbled and moaned persistently from the middle of the ceiling in the dingy lobby. She wondered to herself why these places always smelled like urine and stale beer. It was all so cliché. A skinny man with a patchy beard sat behind the counter, his attention focused on Judge Judy. The pale glow of the TV gave his skin a sick blue hue that just seemed to fit the whole setting.

She tapped the counter with her blunt nails gaining the man's attention. He seemed reluctant to leave his chair, but eventually stood and shuffled his slipper-clad feet to stand before her. She spoke evenly, "I want the room number of the man who came through that door just a few moments ago." She pointed to the entrance to clarify her request.

The man scratched his beard. The woman wasn't a cop that was for sure. She didn't have that cop veneer. He took a quick look at the man behind her. Round mirrored glasses reflected his face back at him. Neither one's a cop, maybe mob? He thought as he considered the request. A strong hand gave a swift jerk that brought him closer to steely gray eyes.

"Two ways old man: easy or hard. I don't care which at this point."

Now his attention was focused only on the gun that was pressed between his eyes. He should have known something was up with that guy. It was always that way with the ones who paid their rent up three months in advanced. "44, top floor, second door on the right." He spoke rushed in an endeavor to have the item removed from his flesh.

McKee smiled sweetly, "Well that was easy." She chided as she put the gun back in its place. She took one look at Quang who simply nodded and moved to take her place at the counter. He would watch the clerk to be sure he didn't tip off the man upstairs. He lowered his glasses on his nose to let his unnatural green eyes rest on the scruffy clerk.

With her back covered in the lobby, McKee opted for the narrow staircase. The small elevator looked a little dubious. She arrived at the fourth floor with a sigh; her legs burned a bit with the climb, and she admonished herself for not doing her daily run and exercise. She made a mental note to rectify the matter soon. Room 44 was right where the clerk had said it would be.

The brown door looked like it needed a new coat of paint, and one of the fours hung askew to its partner. McKee pressed an ear to the door, listening for activity on the other side. All she heard was the muffled sound of either a TV or a radio. She gently tried the knob to see if it would turn. There were times she got lucky with this maneuver, but today wasn't one of those times. A small leather case emerged from her front jeans pocket, she knelt and the small metal picks found their way to the lock. The smallest of clicks announced her success, and she eased the door open just a crack.

The bed blocked her view, but she could see the man she had been following for three days sitting at a small table in front of a window. He was happily eating on a large burrito, the sauce ran down his chin, and he seemed to moan, enjoying his meal, oblivious to being watched. The man moaned again, longer this time, and a slight movement from below the table caught McKee's eye.

A small blonde head bobbed up and down at the man's crotch. The implication of this action was immediately clear to McKee as she stood from her crouched position and silently entered the room.

Donald Peterson was enjoying his lunchtime ritual. He closed his eyes as the boy between his legs serviced him as he had been taught. The sudden departure of the table in front of him and the warm wet mouth on him, brought his eyes open. A powerful hand clasped his throat, causing his mouth to gasp for air and expel the partially chewed food. The cool metal of a gun muzzle soon replaced it.

"One move you sick pervert and the tax payers of Los Angles get to save the money it will take to keep you in prison for the rest of your sorry life." The words were firm and unwavering. Quin pushed the gun further into the man's mouth and removed her hand from his sweaty neck, wiping her hand on the man's shirt. She looked about her quickly trying to locate the small boy she had pulled off the man. She found him huddled next to the bed beside another boy with dark hair and sunken brown eyes and a collar and chain fixed about his neck. Her rage rose quickly, and she was quite unable to prevent her fist from striking the man in front of her squarely in the face. A gush of blood from his nose covered her hand holding the pistol. She withdrew the gun as he whimpered in pain and cursed at her.

She picked up a dirty towel from the table and wiped her gun and hand clean of blood. She spotted the phone cord running from the wall a few steps away. It took little time to tie the man's hands behind his back, securing him to the chair. She paced a few minutes, trying to calm down enough to do what she needed to do, but her eyes found the two boys again and she was compelled to take a bit of revenge.

She didn't want to kill the man, just make him hurt. Her training was extensive in the martial arts, and she knew how to inflict pain without causing death. By the time she was finished he was still conscious, but a lot worse for the wear. McKee shook her right hand; the last punch to the man's jaw was hard and she thought that perhaps she had broken the throbbing appendage.

"You won't get away with this. I have rights!" The man spat through his now bloody mouth. Several teeth had found their way to the floor during his beating. "Cops just can't come into a person's home and beat em' up!"

McKee sneered at the man, "I'm not a cop." She approached the boys slowing her movements as they shrank from her. Their condition was intolerable; bruises and burns littered their small naked bodies. Ribs stood out, skin stretched over muscle less arms and legs. She examined the chain that held one of the boys. It was welded to the metal collar that encircled his neck. She reached out to turn the collar, hoping it had a release, but the boy scurried away, up onto the bed, as far as the chain would permit. It was then that McKee noticed that the boy was castrated. Her eyes closed momentarily then popped open. She was on the man once again. This time he may not survive what she was in mind to do to him.

Her swollen right hand retrieved her gun and pressed it against the still exposed genitals of the man, blood trickled from cuts on her knuckles, though she wasn't feeling any pain at the moment. The man's eyes went wide, and he pleaded with the woman. Before his first sentence ended, the sickening pop of a bullet passing through one of his testicles rendered him speechless. He then bucked in the chair as a feral smile crossed the woman's face. She adjusted the gun and calmly squeezed the trigger again, sending the man's other testicle into oblivion.

Quang's head jerked up at the faint popping sounds. He took off up the stairs calling 911 as he made his way up. Adrenalin propelled him into the room. He wasn't prepared for what he saw. A pool of blood was growing under the fat man in the chair. McKee sat on the unmade bed holding two boys, rocking them gently, and speaking softly to them. A faint siren could be heard in the distance. He knew he needed to get his friend out of there. He picked up the gun that lay on the floor between the bed and the unmoving man, and tucked it into his waistband. He took McKee's arm and gently moved her away from the boys who immediately huddled back together.

"Come on Quin. We need to get out of here; cops are on the way." The sirens grew louder and came to a blaring stop. "Fuck! Move it McKee!" He said a bit more forcefully. It seemed to do the trick as the small woman snapped out of her daze and moved through the door with a last quick look behind her.

They couldn't go down so they went up to the roof. The next building was a short leap away. Once on that roof they made their way back down to the street. They crossed at the light and ambled back to the car. Soon one police car turned into several and two ambulances joined the scene.

Quang knocked a cigarette out of a crumpled pack. He tried lighting it several times, his shaking hands betraying his inner panic at the situation. A small steady hand took the lighter and ignited the end of his cigarette.

McKee then dug another cigarette from Quang's pack, easily lighting it, and taking a deep drag into her lungs. "I'm sorry." She said softly as she exhaled, "I kind of lost it in there."

"What happened? Who were those kids?" Quang asked as his shaking hand ran across his black straight hair.

"I… I'll tell you later." McKee said as she took her gun from the Asian man's waistband, and tucked it into the back of her own. She went to her car only to return shrugging into a light denim jacket to ward off the cooling fall air. She flexed her hand repeatedly as she rejoined the Asian man.

Quang knew when not to push the woman. The tone of her voice told him she wasn't going to discuss it any further.

"Go home Mr. Ngo. I'll call you tomorrow." McKee said, the young man sighed and started to walk away. "Quang!" She called out and waited until he turned his attention back to her, "Thanks."

He smiled at her and nodded his head. He gave a brief wave and made his way back down the street.

McKee focused her attention on the scene across the street. She knew she'd gone too far, but found she had little regret. Some people weren't worth saving she thought. A stretcher came from the double doors of the hotel. Its contents clearly that of the man she had shot. The way the attendants rushed it to the ambulance indicated that he was still alive. That made a small smile appear on her face, she hoped the bastard lived a long life with out his balls.

Two female uniformed officers appeared next, each holding a small bundled child. They were escorted to the second ambulance that headed off in the opposite direction as the first. As it moved it revealed a tall, shapely, blonde woman who stared directly at Quinlan.

The small brunette finished the cigarette, sending the butt into the gutter with a flick of her fingers. She studied the blonde who hadn't looked away yet. She wore black tailored slacks and a white cotton shirt that was pressed and open at the neck, just hinting at cleavage. A gold badge was clipped to her waist in front off to one side. A revolver rested in a holster at her other side. Low black heels propelled the woman forward after a few more moments. McKee felt a twinge of arousal as the blonde strode toward her. It was a feeling she had not had in years. A deep breath and a small shake of her head cleared her thoughts as the woman stopped just three feet from her.

"Excuse me," the blonde spoke, her voice low and controlled, "May I see some identification?"

McKee shrugged and produced her small battered wallet. She pulled her drivers license from its place and handed it to the woman, trying to contain the full body flush that she could feel creeping across her skin.

"Ms. McKee?" She received a nod. "I'm detective Walsh. You seem to match the description of someone who was involved in the matter across the street. Do you have any idea why the manager of the hotel would implicate you?"

McKee smiled, "Because he's still bitter about me interrupting his midday TV watching?"

Vivian Walsh grinned, "Perhaps. It also could have been the gun in his face."

"Possibly." McKee agreed.

"Would you happen to have said weapon on you still?" Walsh asked handing the license back over her shoulder to a stocky man with silver hair and a thick mustache.

McKee reached behind her and produced the gun. She held it by the barrel as she presented it to the Detective.

Walsh took the gun and brought it to her nose. "Have you recently discharged this weapon Ms. McKee?"

"Yes," came the simple reply.

Tom Ross recognized the woman from fifty feet away. He hadn't laid eyes on her in nearly three years. He glanced at the Illinois license. At least that was one rumor that seemed true as to the where about of the elusive private investigator. He watched Quinlan McKee as she interacted with his partner. It seemed as though they were evenly matched to him. He opened his notebook and wrote a small note to himself. There would be a lot of people interested in the brunette's return.

"Can you describe the situation and circumstance for the reason you discharged your weapon?" Walsh asked as she removed the magazine of the gun and cleared its chamber.

"I happened to walk in on a man who was receiving head from a small boy. I noticed another small boy chained to the bed. Both children were naked and obviously abused. One of the boys had been castrated. I took my weapon and blew the bastards balls off." McKee said calmly.

The older man behind Walsh snickered.

The detective looked at the small woman before her. She was all of maybe 115 lbs, 5'5'', well-defined muscles, and a definite sublime quality about her. "Do you have a permit for this weapon Ms. McKee?"

The brunette produced the proper paper work allowing her to carry a concealed weapon.

Walsh turned to her partner, pulling him a few feet away "Well Tom, we can arrest her and explain how she found not just one missing boy but two, and subdued the kidnapper. Or we let her go and call it swift justice." She said examining the papers once again.

"I would have blown the guys head off Viv." He looked around his partners shoulder at the brunette. "And for her not to have shows considerable restraint. She's a good guy Walsh, she found the boy, and we got our perp." He said handing the license back to his partner. "I'll vouch for her if need be."

Vivian nodded, "Go on back Tom. I'll catch up with you." She then turned to the brunette. "Ms. McKee, would you mind telling me who hired you? And why you didn't call the authorities once you confirmed the missing child, that all of Los Angeles has been looking for, for the past six weeks I might add, was alive and in the custody of the perpetrator?"

The brunette had made brief eye contact with the man she had hated for years. It had only been recently that she had been able to come to terms over the incident that had torn her world apart. She nodded at the man as he gave her a brief smile before walking away. She turned her attention back to the blonde detective.

"Jonathan Peer hired me to find his son. As for the other, well I lost my temper. It's hard to sit idly by while a little boy is being sexually abused in front of your eyes. Other wise I would have dropped the pervert off at the station my self."

The detective nodded, Vivian looked closely at the smaller woman in front of her. Her driver license indicated her age to be thirty-two, but she looked like she was in her mid twenties at best. Her short black hair was in tiny spikes all over her head, a pair of dark sunglasses nested there. Pierced ears with small diamond earrings in each lobe, gray eyes that were open and clear, even in the glare of the afternoon sun, a small silver hoop was threaded thru the left eyebrow. If it weren't for the sun shining off it Vivian would have missed it all together. Muscular arms, a thin waist that tapered to curvy hips, and well defined thighs.

The faded jeans that covered those thighs had a rip across the top of one leg where the leg met the hip. A bit of tan flesh and black lace panties peaked out of the frayed rip. Without much thought Vivian raised her eyes to the brunette's chest wondering if there was a matching bra under the form fitting tank top. She unconsciously blushed as she recognized that there was no bra at all present, and that either from her gawking, or the cool wind that blew down the street, the nipples on two small, firm, breasts became hard.

Quinlan cocked her head to the side as the tall blonde blushed. She wasn't able to control how her body had reacted to the outright perusal the detective gave her. At least she wasn't the only one suffering. She cleared her throat gaining the woman's attention and her vibrant blue eyes with her own gray. "I can arrange for a private viewing if you like detective." McKee smirked as the blonde's mouth dropped open, lips moved but no words came forth. "I mean it's obvious you're interested." She said with a deep purr.

Vivian blinked several times as her brain processed the words spoken to her. "I was… was… just…" She shook her head and thrust the brunette's ID and permit toward her, followed by McKee's gun. "You're free to go Ms. McKee."

Quinlan accepted the items and tucked them away in their proper places, aware that the blonde's eyes still watched her. She produced a small black business card and took three steps forward into the private space of the detective. "Perhaps you'll change your mind. All my numbers are on there; call anytime." She tucked the card into the blonde's ample cleavage and walked silently to her car, wondering when the hell her libido had taken over her usually unsocial nature.

Vivian spun around and called out to the departing woman, "Not in this lifetime McKee!"

Quin simply raised a dark eyebrow at the detective before sliding into the car. She watched in her rear view mirror as she pulled away. The blonde pulled the black card from her shirt and tucked it into her pants pocket. McKee smiled to herself as she found the freeway on ramp and headed home.

Tom Ross turned in his seat to look at his partner as she sank behind the wheel. It wasn't often he saw the woman flustered. "I have her phone number if you're interested."

"What?" Vivian asked as she hooked her seatbelt and started the car.

"The PI, I know her phone number, or maybe you'd like me to call and give her yours?"

The blonde looked at her partner, "Are you insane? That woman should be in jail; she's hardly better than the scum we just arrested. I don't even know what I'm going to tell the lieutenant my reasoning on that is and you think I'd be interested in a date with her?" She huffed as she weaved the car between two police cruisers. "She's so not my type anyway…"

Tom grinned, "Uh huh." He opens his notebook and started organizing his information for the report he'd soon be writing.

"What would you know about it? You haven't been on a date in twenty years." Vivian continued.

"I already have my dream girl Walsh. I don't need a date. You on the other hand might want a career change," he kept his eyes down writing in his notebook, "Perhaps a convent."

The blonde scowled out the window. "I'm going to ignore that Ross."

Light laughter came from the passenger seat.

Vivian couldn't help the smile that crept onto her lips. This is how it had been between them since day one. Tom Ross was a capable detective. He had a wife and five kids with number six on the way. He was constantly bragging about his family, and had dragged Vivian to dinner that first night to his house.

Vivian, who had been on her own since she was eleven, was overwhelmed by the welcome she had received. She had gained a family in the blink of an eye. She had felt so comfortable that when Ruth, Tom's wife, had asked her if she had a boyfriend that she simply stated that she currently didn't have a girlfriend, but was always on the look out. The woman hardly missed a beat before a vow was given by the small redheaded woman that she would help with the endeavor.

That was it. Her partner quickly became her best friend, and his wife the sister and mother she never had. Tom had taken to teasing her relentlessly, and she gave as good as she got. Together they made a great team.

"I sure would like to know how she came up with that guy." Tom mused looking out the front window of the car, his eyebrows knitted in thought.

Vivian had been thinking the same thing. Now that would be a good reason to call the brunette. A legitimate reason, she thought as she weaved through rush hour traffic towards the station.

PART 2

QUIN TURNED THE key in the lock of the large stained glass door to her house. The inside was quiet and dark. A soft fwap of the pet door and the click of a dog's paws was the only thing that greeted her as she closed the door. By the time she turned around to secure the door, the large head of the black Labrador was rubbing against her thigh in an attempt to get some attention. She let her hand drop and pat the dog's head and her fingers scratched behind each ear. As she squatted to retrieve the mail from the floor, the dog's wet tongue swiped her cheek several times.

"Thanks buddy." She smiled as she wiped the slick residue from her face with her jacket sleeve. She stood and flipped through the correspondence as she walked the long hall to the kitchen, her way lit only by the streetlights streaming through various windows.

She used her elbow to turn on the light in the kitchen and went to the fridge. The mail found its way onto a growing stack of letters and bills on the counter. Quin stood in front of the open refrigerator, peering in at the contents for several minutes. The big black dog sat on his haunches looking in as well. After several more minutes dog and human looked at each other and sighed. "We really need to go to the store Mike. This is pitiful."

Dark eyes blinked at her then turned back to the open fridge. The dog huffed once then walked away to his own food bowl to happily much on his standard kibble.

Quin shook her head. It had been a long day. She counted herself lucky not to be in jail. She had broken just about every rule possible today.

The refrigerator door swung shut with a slight push. The brunette opted for an apple from a bowl on the table and a glass of water. She stood leaning against the counter while she ate, watching Mike crunch endlessly on his food. She made quick work of the piece of fruit and downed her water in three gulps. The core flew effortlessly into the trashcan in the corner.

She returned to the fridge and made a quick ice pack for her bruised hand.

"Well Mike, another day, another dollar." Quin walked from the kitchen, stripping her jacket and depositing it on a bench in the hall, the clicking of paws followed behind her. It was still early. The fall sun had set leaving the early evening hours dark. She glances up the staircase; she hadn't ventured up the stairs since her return. Tonight would be no different as she headed to the basement door.

Her office took up most of the basement. There were several banks of computers strewn in a haphazard mess on three desks that formed a U off of one wall, as well as white boards on stands and one bolted to the basement wall surrounded by corkboard. A worn couch laid against one wall, a crumpled blanket pushed to one end, and a needlepoint pillow at the other. Three small TVs hung from the ceiling, and a police scanner chirped away from a low shelf that also contained a coffee maker.

Quin stood in front of one white board that contained pictures and notes from this latest case. She had found the boy, but not the person who had taken the boy. She let her eyes stay on the picture of the smiling eight year old, preferring that as a last image rather than the one she carried home with her from the dingy hotel room. The florescent lamp that lit the board's contents seemed harsh against the boy's likeness. This picture deserved to sit in a place lit by sunlight, she thought.

She also thought of the other little boy she found by happenstance. His condition appalling, his small mutilated body would never recover from the act of castration.

"Who are they Mike?" She asked the big dog who had taken up residence on the couch, his head resting on her pillow. "Who does things to children like that and lives with himself?" Dark eyes blinked at her.

She picked up a blue marker and wrote in large letters across the board, HOW MANY MORE? That had been the question that had been nagging at her since she tracked the boy down. He had been literally sold and bought as merchandise on the internet. How many missing children were sold and bought everyday? Who was taking them? How could they be stopped?

"Quite the can of worms Mike." Quin took a few steps and sank into a high back leather chair that sat in the space between the desks. Her hands bumped keyboards and a mouse to wake up the sleeping monitors. She reached behind herself and blindly pressed the recall button on the answering machine. The same hand picked up a remote control, and she turned on one of the TV's, muting the sound as she used the same remote to activate the sound system hanging from the wall under the TV's. Nina Simone's sultry voice sang to Quin as she started her nightly routine of information gathering.

Tom Ross entered his large ranch house just after seven in the evening. He quietly emptied his pockets into the glass dish that sat on a table beside the door. He could hear his family talking away in the dining room. Dinner well underway at this hour. He felt a pang of guilt at that, thinking that they probably waited much too long for him before they started the meal anyway.

He walked through the deserted living room. Schoolbooks littered the coffee table and floor, a tangible sign that school was once again in full swing for his four oldest children. He reminded himself to ask each of them about their classes and teachers. Sometimes he would forget such things, and his wife would have to remind him.

He shrugged out of his suit jacket as he crossed into the dining room. His children greeted him with genuine smiles and clamoring words of welcome home. He made his way around the table kissing each child, ending at his wife who looked at him with a knowing smirk. Tom leaned over and kissed her gently as the children voiced their disapproval of such a display by their parents. He couldn't help the smile that came to his lips as he sat back in his chair.

Generous amounts of food found way to his plate as the conversation picked up once again. He leaned towards his wife, "Sorry, I should have called, but…"

"We saw the news, Vivian handled herself well." Ruth Ross spoke while urging her three-year-old son to eat a small piece of carrot. "I'd hoped she would have been with you tonight. I found a date for her."

Tom raised his eyebrows as he himself shuffled his carrots to one side of his plate away from the rest of his meal. "Does she meet all the criteria?"

Ruth slowly nodded, "Employed, no children, and no recent criminal activity."

Tom laughed, "Wow, that list certainly has dwindled over the last two years."

"I kept telling her she was too picky." Ruth said as she speared a carrot on the end of her fork from her husband's plate and offered it to him much in the same way as she just had done to his son.

Tom looked at his wife, then the carrot. The table grew quiet and all eyes rested on him, waiting to see what he would do.

"Eat." The three year old encouraged him in much the same way he had recently been.

"You'll pay for this later, Dr. Ross." He softly said with a smile at his wife, then wrapped his lips around the fork in front of him and took the carrot into his mouth and made a good show of enjoying the small piece of vegetable.

His children cheered for him as he swallowed hard to get the now mushy substance to go down his throat. As a reward his wife kissed him on his rough cheek. He growled at the teasing his older two sons and two daughters gave him. It was wonderful to be home, and he wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

Nearly three hours later and after having to resort to her reading glasses as eyestrain began to set in Quin looked up. There on the muted TV was Detective Walsh. The brunette felt a flash of heat at remembering the frank inspection the detective gave her in the late afternoon sun. She muted the stereo and turned the volume up on the TV.

"What's the boy's condition now Detective?" a disembodied voice asked.

"Scott is in good physical condition. He has been reunited with his parents. We are still trying to determine the identity of the second boy. His condition is guarded, but he's expected to survive." Bright blue eyes squinted slightly against the harsh camera lights as Vivian Walsh answered the barrage of questions hurled at her by the press.

"The man who was holding Scott was reported as being injured…."

"No comment on the condition of Mr. Peterson, except that he's under arrest for the kidnapping of Scott Peer. I'm sure further charges will be added as the days progress." This time the detective smiled slightly. "That's all I have at the moment ladies and gentlemen…"

"Detective! Is it true that Scott was found by the vigilante Angel of Justice and that the police happened onto the scene after several calls to 911?" The male voice off camera was booming and came over the other disappointed mumbles of the group of reporters loud and clear.

"Angel of Justice?" Quin said to her self… "God! How corny is that?" She rolled her eyes.

"I have nothing more at this time." Detective Walsh restated as she turned and made her way back into the building.

"Angel of Justice?" she repeated again, "Got to put an end to that moniker!" The sound of her doorbell ringing brought her to her feet and up the stairs two at a time. The bell rang again. She looked out the side window and raised a delicate black brow. She opened the door.

"Detective. I was just watching you on the news." Quin greeted keeping the Labrador at bay with one foot. Mike took the hint finally and shrugged off to the kitchen.

Vivian Walsh smiled, "And here I thought I was just dealing with another smart ass PI, when I actually have had the honor of coming into contact with the Angel of Justice."

Quin growled, "God is that awful or what? Did you get the name of that guy by the way? I'd like a word with him." She looked at the blonde standing on her porch, "I recall you saying something earlier about the chances of you calling me in this lifetime?"

"I'm not calling." Vivian smirked.

"Oh, true, you're not." The brunette paused for a moment, "How very clever." Quin stepped back from the door, "Please come in Detective."

Vivian stepped into the dark foyer of the big old house. It took her by some surprise that this was Quinlan McKee's home as she pulled up in front of it. Silverlake was an old, long-established Los Angeles neighborhood. Big, wood clabbered houses sat on hilly streets. They rarely came up for sale, and when they did, expect to pay three quarters of a million dollars or more for one that was in the condition that Quinlan McKee's house was. "Nice place." She commented as a light came on to her right, illuminating the space.

"Thanks, my… my partner and I did the work. It was worth every splinter, and bruise." She said tucking her hands into her pockets.

Vivian didn't miss the hesitation in the smaller woman's voice at the mention of her partner. "Well, it's beautiful. Perhaps sometime I could get the full tour. I'm a bit confused though; I thought for sure you were flirting with me earlier, and here I find you're already taken." She wasn't sure where her forwardness came from, maybe it was the fact that the woman openly came on to her and was in essence cheating on her partner.

"Was… she's gone." Quin stated softly, she found herself uncomfortable under the scrutiny of this woman. She lifted her head, "Grace was killed three years ago."

"I'm sorry… I had…" Vivian's heart sank into her stomach.

"No way you could have known." Quin shrugged.

"No, I suppose you're right, still…"

The brunette shook her head, "Forget it, besides I'm sure you have a reason for coming here."

Besides getting another glimpse at that physique? Vivian questioned herself, but said aloud, "We were wondering how you came up with Donald Peterson as the kidnapper. He's nowhere in our investigation."

"He's not the kidnapper," came the simple response.

"What do you mean not the kidnapper? Then what the hell is he?" Vivian's voiced raised in volume as she spoke. She felt suddenly on the end of a joke.

"A sick, child molesting bastard. A slaver for sure. And now ball-less. Follow me detective; I'll show you what I have so far." She motioned toward the basement door.

The blonde followed, "I don't detect much in the way of regret, Ms. McKee, for that action."

"Haven't been able to muster up any yet. Please call me Quin, Detective Walsh, I hear my last name enough during the day… usually taken in vain."

"Okay Quin, then please call me Vivian. The "Detective Walsh thing" is overdone as well." The blonde requested as she stepped of the last step into what could only be described as a messy bat cave. "Where do you keep your skin tight costume?" She couldn't help but ask.

Quin smirked, "It's at the cleaners today. Perhaps I'll show it to you at a later date." She pointed to the large white dry erase board, "I kind of stumbled onto Scott actually, I was just feeling around the pedophile online community while looking into other things, and got a hit on the Peterson guy. It took a couple days to track him down. He moves around a lot. " She pulled a paper off the board and gave it to Vivian, "Twenty addys in the last two years that I was able to confirm, he draws some kind of federal disability, so he has to report moves to them, otherwise he would have been nearly untraceable. He bought Scott from an unnamed source."

Vivian looked at the print out handed to her then back up at the board. "The other boy, do you think he was obtained the same way?"

"Purchased?" A confirming nod came from the blonde head, "Probably, or he traded for him. I'm getting to know how it all works. There's a lot of them though, and they aren't all as stupid as Donald Peterson, especially it seems the people who acquire the children."

Vivian looked at the various pieces of information the PI had gathered. It was quite extensive. "How is it we missed all this?" She wondered aloud.

"You were thinking abduction for ransom because of who Peer happens to be. I just worked a different angle, thinking maybe they didn't know whom they had, and once they had already struck the deal it was too late. Peterson had Scott in his custody from day three. No one knew anything of the kidnapping for a full week after it happened, because I suspect you all were waiting for a phone call."

The blonde head nodded, "We dropped the ball."

"No. I got lucky." Quin admitted.

The two women regarded one another for a silent moment.

Vivian spoke first, "I'll share this information with the department, and maybe Peterson will give up his contact. If you come across anything else…"

"You're more than welcome to any thing I have. I want this guy and his friends just as much as you. Let me get you a drink." Quin started for the stairs then turned back, "Have you eaten yet? I can order something in."

Vivian stared at the quantity of information in front of her. It would take several hours at best to sift through just what was organized on the board alone. "I haven't eaten, and only if it isn't too much trouble," she replied.

"No trouble at all. Be right back. Make your self at home." Quin sprinted up the stairs.

Vivian studied the board. She noticed a stack of folders on a low table in front of it with corresponding labels. She picked up the first folder opening it as she shrugged out of her leather jacket. She looked about for a place to sit, but decided the floor in front of the table and board would be the most convenient. A large black dog that wrapped his body around her back soon joined her. Dark eyes looked at her as the dog rested its head on its paws. "Well hello there? Where did you come from?" She asked as she stroked the dog's smooth fur.

"I see the resident lounge hound has found you."

Vivian looked up over her shoulder at the now barefoot brunette. The woman just stepped off the last step. She carried two glasses in one hand and a pitcher of ice tea in the other.

"I hope tea is okay. I ordered a pizza and some salad. Should be here in a few." Quin sat the glasses and pitcher on the low table. "If you would be more comfortable on the couch I could…"

"No… this is fine. I can see everything from here. you don't mind do you?" Vivian asked as she looked back down at the dog, "Besides the companionship is decent down here."

Quin chuckled, "Mike's just a big softy, loves the ladies." She sat down beside the blonde crossing her legs and resting her elbows on her knees.

"Mike?"

"The big dog wrapped around you." Quin filled the two glasses and reached behind herself producing a long spoon and several small packets of sweetener and sugar. "I didn't know what you took." She held out the small paper packets in one palm and the spoon in the other hand.

Vivian smiled and took two small packs of sugar and a spoon. She prepared her tea and took a long drink. She watched the other woman dump the remainder of sweetener on the table. The brunette drank her tea straight, nearly emptying the glass in three gulps. Her eyes rested on the graceful neck as Quin's head tipped back. She quickly looked down at the file in her lap as the other woman lowered her glass. The detective looked at the words, but didn't read them. Her mind raced with the implications of her obvious attraction to the smaller woman. She closed her eyes and minutely shook her head to clear her thoughts. She then produced her small notebook and began to earnestly read the file, stopping only to make notes and ask defining questions of the PI.

They worked that way for nearly four hours. They took a brief break to eat, but that was it. Vivian was astounded at the amount of information Quin acquired in a short period of time. She was reading the last file when a name jumped up and smacked her in the head. "Justin Downs." She said aloud and looked over to where Quin was resting against the couch. "He sounds familiar; I can't place where I know the name from." She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. Her hand then combed through her hair and she stretched her back, emitting several expletives as a series of pops emanated from her spine. "Ugh! I need to move." Almost instantaneously a small tanned hand was in front of her.

"Getting cramped down there?" Quin's gray eyes smiled down at her.

Vivian accepted the hand and let her self be hauled up with astonishing ease. "Too much time in one position." She groused as she continued to stretch her back and legs after standing. She then stooped and picked up the file again. "Justin Downs." She looked at Quin again, "Did you interview him?"

The PI shook her head, "No, he was way down on my list. Did some wiring for one of the neighbors the week Scott was taken. I did a quick check on him and nothing came back, so it became a dead end."

"That's right. He umm… ran some kind of network wiring for the Taylor's a couple doors down from the Peer's."

Quin nodded in agreement.

"Dead end huh?" Vivian asked.

"Nothing I could connect anyway. Did you guys look at him?" the brunette asked as she sat on the couch, pulling her legs up underneath her.

Vivian crossed and sat at the opposite end of the old couch, "He had an alibi. His girlfriend said she had been with him all night on the evening of the abduction, but there was something that didn't click with Tom about that. I can't recall what it was."

"Tom was always good at ferreting out the liars."

The blonde looked up from the file once again, "how long have you known Tom?"

Quin bit her bottom lip for a second then shrugged, "For about ten years, he was Grace's partner."

Vivian's eyebrows raised, "But you didn't even acknowledge him today."

Quin shrugged again, "We didn't exactly leave on speaking terms. I'm surprised he didn't vote to haul me in."

"Actually he's the reason you weren't hauled in." Vivian said as she closed the folder and slumped back into the couch. "What time is it?" She asked as her eyes closed.

"Almost one." Quin replied as she thought about what the detective said regarding Tom Ross.

Vivian pushed herself up off the couch, closed the folder and handed it to Quin, "I think I'm done for tonight." She crossed to the low table and retrieved her mostly spent notebook. "Thanks for the food," she gestured to their empty plates, "I owe you dinner. And umm, thanks for the information. I'll let you know if we come up with anything further."

Quin escorted the detective up the stairs to the front door. "I apologize for my behavior this afternoon. I was a bit stressed; I don't handle children being in a situation like that well. I'm offering my services to you at anytime. You may need someone on the other side of the thin blue line. I can go places and do things that you can't." She paused in her ramblings, "That all sounded so not me. Good blackmail material for the future." She smiled as she opened the door.

Vivian Walsh didn't know what to make of the woman before her. She knew she would be grilling Tom Ross in the morning that was for sure. "I'll think about the offer. Have a good night Quin."

The brunette watched as the tall woman walked down the porch steps to a modest, four door Ford that was parked at the curb. She was undeniably attracted to the woman — a dangerous attraction. One that she was sure she needed to ignore in order to maintain her working frame of mind. She shut the door as the blue car pulled away. The couch in the basement called her name as she descended the basement stairs. Another night in denial. Another night with her nightmares. Maybe returning to Los Angeles wasn't such a good idea.

PART 3

RUTH BOLTED AWAKE moments after her husband's shout and his abrupt waking. Her hand went to his back; the sweat dampened the t-shirt he wore was stuck it to his body. She rubbed soothing circles on his broad back. "What is it honey?"

"Grace."

Her husband's low whisper stabbed at her heart. She rolled to the side and turned on the small lamp there. She picked up an ever-present glass of water and offered it to her husband. "It's been a long while since you've had that particular nightmare," she said as she accepted the nearly empty glass back.

"I saw Quinlan McKee today."

Ruth sat completely up and scooted back against the headboard of the bed. "Where?" It was a name that Ruth Ross had wished never to hear again.

"She broke the Peer case. She found the boy." Tom pushed himself up to sit beside his wife.

"She shot that man. Didn't she?" Ruth asked as missing pieces of news reports fell into place.

"Yes. Didn't kill him though. I think I might have if I had seen what she did." His hands brushed through his graying hair, recalling the scene when he had arrived.

"She's dangerous, and should have been put away a long time ago."

"Ruth…"

"NO." Ruth said forcibly. "She's not right Tom. She's crazy. Something broke when Grace died."

Tom nodded. There was no denying that Quinlan McKee was forever changed by the death of her lover. He had even become one of her targets. He had actually feared for his life, but then she up and disappeared. And he had nearly forgotten that the woman had even existed until this afternoon. "She seemed more like her old self though, gave Vivian a run for her money."

"Vivian? Tom, Vivian does not need to get involved with that woman."

"That woman was one of our closest friends Ruth, how can you just turn…"

Ruth threw the covers off and exited the bed, she paced the floor, "She came into our house Tom, intent on killing you."

"She didn't though." Tom said moving to sit at the side of the bed and watched his wife pace.

Ruth rubbed her extended belly thoughtfully, "I can't forgive that Tom, and I certainly can't forget it."

Tom reached his hand out and waited for his wife to take it. After a few moments he felt her small soft hand slide into his own. He pulled his wife to stand in front of him and wrapped his arms around her. He laid his head against her swollen abdomen. "I thank god every night that I have you Ruth, and pray that I keep you every morning. I can't imagine what Quin went through after losing Grace."

That was something Ruth hadn't thought about. What would she do if something happened to Tom and he didn't come home from the job? Would she react as McKee had? She stroked his head, running her fingers through his thick hair, looking down on him in a way his fellow officers were never likely to see him. Perhaps if she had the capability that McKee had she would take revenge for her husband's death. Hopefully she would never have to answer that question.

"Let's go back to bed love. We both have busy days tomorrow." Tom urged his wife under the covers. He lay close to her with his hand over her stomach, making small patterns with his fingertips. He felt her move just enough to reach the nightstand and extinguish the light. He continued his movements until a soft snore indicated that Ruth had fallen asleep once again. He rolled over onto his back and let the images of his nightmare play against the darkened ceiling. He wished someone could take the images from him, but knew he carried them for a reason, what it was he didn't know. Maybe Quinlan McKee had an answer for him. There was more to know about the incident three years ago, something he was yet to discover. Something that would put it all to rest for all of them. Sleep wouldn't return to him this night as with so many others when the nightmare came. He was content to know that Ruth had returned to sleep. At least one of them would have a decent nights rest.

Vivian threw a worn file on top of her partner's desk. "Donald Peterson." She said as she plopped down in her chair.

Tom Ross looked at the thick and obviously well-used file, "Has our boy been a busy lad during his life?" he needlessly asked as he opened the volume and began to read.

"Six offenses in the state of California alone. Boys, girls, animals, the guy is a real sicko. They put him in a hospital for a few months, declared him competent, and released him back into mainstream society where he gets another kid and continues on his merry little way." Vivian opened her own desk drawer pulling out a brown paper sack. She emptied the contents on her desk, a sandwich, bag of chips and a candy bar landed in a heap. She tossed the candy bar at the man across from her, "You look like you could use a boost."

The man accepted the candy gratefully. "I didn't get much sleep last night."

"I know what you mean." Vivian opened the baggie that contained her sandwich, pulling the bread apart to check its contents. "I was up late myself, got some interesting information from your PI friend." She took a healthy bite of the ham and cheese sandwich that her landlord had made for her. She was grateful the matronly woman had adopted her and provided for her midday meal. It was often the only sustenance she would take during the day until she got home to a bowl of soup.

Tom raised a salt and pepper eyebrow, "You went to see McKee?"

"Why did you think I asked for her address?"

"Thought she wasn't your type?"

Vivian looked across their joined desks, "I didn't fuck her, and I wanted to know how she came up with Peterson," she said a bit harshly.

"Sorry." Tom said as he chewed another bite of sweet chocolate and caramel, "I really didn't mean it that way."

"Anyway," Vivian started again, "it seems Peterson isn't our kidnapper, he's a lot of other things, but he didn't take the kid." She tried to keep the conversation on track and away from any kind of personal feelings she might or might not have for the small brunette.

Tom watched his partner for a moment. She had been a bit edgy all day, and he became concerned that something might have happened between the two women. "Did McKee give you a hard time about showing up unannounced last night?"

"No, should she have?" Two chips fell victim to Vivian's hunger simultaneously, "That reminds me, why didn't you tell me how well you knew Quin? How long were you partners with Grace?"

My my they did have quite the chat, Tom thought as he swallowed the last of the candy bar. "Ten years."

"And you see her lover after how long and not even a hello?"

"After three years, and we didn't leave things on the best of terms. Now I would really like to change the subject."

Vivian smiled, "Not so comfortable huh? But let's do change the subject. The lieutenant is going to want to know why we aren't filing kidnap charges against Peterson. He's going to want to know against whom we are going to file, and I like to at least give him some kind of idea, seeing as we have no one at all to pin this on."

"Did McKee have a clue?" Tom asked sitting back in his chair.

Vivian sighed, "No."

"No name? No direction to head in?"

The blonde pointed a finger at her partner, "No name, but she did have a direction, and is still working on it. She said she would let me know if anything came up, in the mean time I want to take a look at Justin Downs again."

Tom sneered, "I don't like that guy. Something's up with him."

Vivian nodded, "I know, so let's dig deeper. Maybe we missed something. We also need to schedule an interview with Peterson. Maybe he can shed a bit of light on it for us."

"There's certainly more light shining between his legs these days anyway." Tom smirked as he leafed through the file once again, this time making notes while looking for any connection to their current investigation.

A full week passed before Quin emerged from her house again. Quang Ngo was missing and she needed him. He was a native of OrangeCounty, the great suburb south of Los Angeles. Quin hated the place with its neatly arranged neighborhoods and cookie cutter people. Quin couldn't find one redeeming grace for the place, except for maybe the prolific punk music that seemed to stream from behind the Orange Curtain as a protest to the conformity that was imposed on its youth.

She drove her white Chevelle across the invisible line separating Los Angeles from the overly cheery Disneyesque, OrangeCounty. Her destination was just a few more exits down the 405 freeway. Little Saigon was located in Garden GroveCalifornia. It was heralded as the largest Vietnamese population outside of Vietnam itself. Quin had little doubt of that as she made her exit onto Brookhurst St. headed north. A few more miles brought her to her destination.

Quin made her way into the import shop ran by Quang's father. Business appeared to be brisk on this sunny Friday afternoon. She stopped to look at a set of teacups when her name was called from the back of the shop.

"Ms. McKee, what a wonderful surprise, I wish we would have known you were coming; we would have made preparations for a feast." Quang's father was a rail thin man with dark eye's and jet-black hair. He spoke with a soft accent and his voice carried a great deal of emotion. Quin liked the man the moment he had come to her with his problem son. An elderly woman took Quin's arm from behind and pulled her down. Quin knew very little Vietnamese, but was able to pick out just enough to smile and nod. She spoke a reverent thank you, and kissed the small woman on the cheek, causing a small giggle and a swat to her shoulder.

"You enchant my mother as always Ms. McKee." Tran Ngo said as he walked Quin back to his office, "How may I help you this fine day? I hope my son is not the cause of your visit." The thin man sat in a leather chair indicating that Quin should take the one opposite him.

"Actually I was sort of hoping I would find Quang here. I need his help, but am unable to locate him."

"He came last Sunday. He was here until Tuesday afternoon. A woman came to the shop and he left with her in a bit of a rush." The man looked down as he spoke, and then glanced up nervously at McKee, "I hope he is not in trouble."

"I'm sure it's nothing he can't handle, but it is perplexing why he hasn't called or is not answering his pages. It's not like him." Quin thought for a moment, "Did you recognize this woman?"

"I'm not certain, but I think she was a friend of his from high school, a close friend of one of the girls Quang dated. I haven't heard from any of those kids since Quang was arrested; he became a non-person to that world."

Quin nodded her understanding. It was one of the reasons Quang had asked to join her in Chicago. He found his friends in crime would not tolerate his law abiding behavior and turned their backs on him. It was hard to leave that behind and move forward, but Quang had managed. "I think I remember where they hung out. I'll start there." She said as she stood and offered her hand to the man. "Don't worry. I'm sure he's fine, and if he isn't I'll kick his ass." She grinned.

Tran smiled at the woman he credited with saving his son's life and his honor. "I shall be happy to hold the boy for you." He joked back as he bid the dark woman farewell.

The industrial buildings that lay empty were often taken up by small gangs of youths. This is where McKee knew she would find the people for whom she was looking. Most people would be frightened to enter such areas at the late hour it was, but she wanted to talk to the right people, and to do that you had to risk a little injury. On the other hand, those who didn't want to answer her questions risked an equal amount of injury by her hand.

She cruised by a large concrete building. Large fifty gallon barrels lit the interior as they burned what ever was handy — gang members constantly feeding the flames for warmth against the chilly fall night. It never really got cold in southern California, especially along the coast. But the damp air did tend to settle in ones bones, so to ward off the chill the gang members huddled around the barrels telling tales of their day and exaggerating heroic deeds in the name of the gang.

She parked the old Chevelle along a brick wall and walked into the open building. Her memory called up names she had stored away for no particular occasion. She almost immediately found the girl Quang's father had described standing with three boys. A large bottle of beer was being passed among the four. One of the boys noticed her approached and took up an offensive stand. Quin raised her hands, "I'm looking for Quang. If you tell me where I can find him then you can go right back to what you were doing."

The girl took a step forward and placed her hand on the boys shoulder, "S'okay, she's not a cop. She's Quang's sponsor." The boy immediately relaxed, "Quang's not here; his old lady got busted, and he's looking after the kids."

"Kids?" Quin gaped at the plural.

"They're not all his, but one of em' is." The girl clarified.

"Where can I find him?"

The girl was more than helpful in providing an address and gave fairly precise directions to the small apartment at which door she now found herself knocking. The hollow wood was hardly a barrier between the hall and what lay beyond. It always amazed Quin what people considered suitable housing. The door opened a crack, and her gray eyes had to look down the space to find the person who had opened it. Two big blue eyes blinked at her. "It's kind of late for you to be up isn't it?" She questioned the child peeking out at her.

The child shrugged, "Baby brother is sick and the man needed help." Was the simple explanation given through the crack.

"Okay." Quin drew the word out, "Do you think you could tell the man that McKee is here?"

There was a slow nod and the door shut tight. She could hear small bare feet slap against a tiled floor. A few minutes later heavier footsteps approach the door. It jerked open wide and a flustered Quang Ngo stood on the other side covered in something Quin was unable to identify. A relieved smile crossed his lips.

"McKee, man are you a sight for sore eyes." He stepped back so the woman could enter. "Sorry about the mess and all… I've been kind of preoccupied, the baby is sick," he pointed to a baby lying on a ragged couch. To Quang's credit he had made a soft bed of clean sheets and blankets for the infant. The boy who had answered the door was sitting beside the couch with one hand on the baby's back.

"How long has it been sick?" Quin asked as she placed her hand on the child's head feeling for fever.

"Couple of hours, I was just trying to figure out how to get the mess of ‘em with me to the ER if he didn't start to get better…"

"How many kids are there here, and why didn't you call me? Better yet, why haven't you been answering your phone or pager?" Quin picked up the baby, the older boy looked at her with a mix of mistrust and a glint of protectiveness for his baby brother. Quin smiled at him, "What's your brother's name?"

"Mark. I'm Christopher." He pointed at his chest with a finger. The boy was of obvious mixed racial heritage with his kinky black hair and olive complexion. Bright blue eyes dominated his round face. Quin estimated his age to be about eight.

"I'm McKee, and I'm here to help Quang. Can you get me a bottle of water for your brother?" She asked and smiled as the boy nodded and ran to do her bidding. She looked back at her protégé, "Answers Mr. Ngo."

"Umm, there are five kids, one is mine, but I couldn't see just taking one and leaving the rest for CPS, so I stayed. I don't know what happened to my phone or pager, they're here someplace," he flailed his arms indicating the apartment, "and I wanted to call you, but there is no phone here, and I haven't talked with an adult since Tuesday." He finished. His shoulders slumped and he idly brushed at the sticky stain on his shirt.

Quin looked at the young man who was as close to tears as she had ever seen him. "Quang," she said softly to gain his attention, "you've done a good job, okay. I'm here now. What do you need?"

"I need to get out of here, get them out of here. The place is infested with almost every critter imaginable, and the food is about gone. I need to get the baby to a doctor, and I could really use a shower and about eight hours of sleep, consecutively if possible…"

Quin smiled at the young man, "Okay. Wake em' up; forget about clothes and such; we will get them new. We'll go to my place. I'll call ahead and have someone meet us there to look at the little guy. I'll spot you while you get cleaned up, and sleep. Fair enough?"

Quang looked at his mentor with a bit of surprise. She had come in with a kick ass attitude and ended with being an understanding friend. He was certain that he would never figure the woman out as long as he lived. He nodded his assent to the plan and moved to the back of the apartment to wake the children and get them ready to travel.

Quin settled in a vinyl chair cradling the fussing baby in her arms. She pulled the infant against her and cooed softly to him. The older boy returned with the requested bottle. Quin placed it to the baby's lips where it was eagerly suckled.

"Are you taking us away?" Christopher asked, his eyes showing just a bit of trepidation.

"You'll be coming to stay at my house for a while, until we can find out about your mom. It's a big house, plenty of room for everyone." Quin tried to ease the boy's discomfort with the arrangement. "It isn't perfect, but it will be better. Okay?" The boy nodded and ran off to join his siblings as they began to rise. She watched as Quang organized the group. There were four boys including the baby, and one little girl. It took some doing and some convincing on the two adults part that they were not going to be separated or discarded.

The trip to Los Angeles was mostly quiet. An occasional murmuring from the back seat as the children pointed out the window at the passing city skyline. Quin had made a phone call to a friend to see about the baby's condition. Quang had passed out almost as soon as the car hit the interstate. The PI tried to remember if there was ever a time in her life that things weren't complicated. When memories of quiet Sundays spent with Grace came to mind she smiled to herself. Life had given her some precious moments after all.

PART 4

THE SOUND OF the phone ringing woke Tom Ross first. He reached for the offending appliance blindly, knocking over a picture frame as he finally grasped the receiver. "Hello." He rasped. He listen to the voice for a moment, his eyes still shut. His eyes opened at the mention of Quinlan McKee. He rolled to his back and sighed. He looked at his sleeping wife and bit his lower lip. "Okay, I'll ask her. But no guarantees. Hold on." He pressed the phone to his chest and nudged his wife. "Ruth?"

"Hmmm."

"Ruth, Stephanie Miller is on the phone, she wants to know if you'd do her a favor."

The red head turned toward her husband, "What kind of favor?"

"She needs to you to make a house call. She's in the middle of some kind of emergency and can't go herself. She said she would make it up to you ten times." Tom held his breath.

"Fine, get the address, I'm getting up."

Tom picked up the phone again and told the young doctor on the other end that his wife had accepted the job. He hung up the phone and climbed out of bed.

"What are you doing?" Ruth questioned a she returned to the room buttoning a large white shirt. She went to her dresser and pulled out a pair of sweatpants.

"I'm going to wake up Peter; then I'm going with you. I'll drive."

"Okay, you can keep me awake." Ruth replied she was glad to have the company. The pregnancy made her tired, and with just two hours of sleep under her belt, she wasn't sure she could make the drive to wherever she was going safely anyway.

Tom woke his oldest son. The sixteen year old was trust worthy and capable, and took his father's position in his parents king size bed next to the only phone that rang at night in the house. Convinced that all was well, Tom and Ruth headed out.

With in moments Tom pulled the large passenger van that was his family car in front of McKee's house. Ruth turned angry amber eyes on her husband. "This is a joke right? You don't expect me to go in there do you?"

"Stephanie said there was a baby that needed care here. I don't know the circumstances, but for Quin to use up a favor like this it must be important. I'm coming in with you." Tom stepped out of the van and walked around the vehicle. He opened his wife's door and waited.

Quin sat in a low back leather chair holding the now sleeping baby. All the other children had been escorted to various rooms and nestled into beds. Quang was passed out on the couch in what looked to be a very uncomfortable position for which Quin was sure he would pay in the morning. The doorbell rang causing Quin to jerk and the baby to startle awake. She eased up out of the chair and made her way to the door, comforting the child as she went.

Tom stood behind his wife holding her black bag. He reached around her and rang the bell again, almost simultaneously the door opened. McKee stood on the other side talking to an infant in her arms. She waved them in without even looking up.

Ruth had a million things to say to Quinlan McKee, but they all rushed from her mind as she watched the dark woman console the whimpering child in her arms. There was something about the scene that seemed, so natural, so right. Like McKee was meant to hold a child like that. It was a picture that Ruth had never conjured, and she analyzed that for a second. Grace had seemed more the mothering type. McKee had always come off harsh and uncaring for such things. Ruth recalled the brunette treating her own children more like adults instead of the kids they were. Yet here she was, obviously in distress over this unknown baby's condition, to the point she used a very expensive favor. Ruth shut the door and cleared her throat.

Quin looked up, she was sure she looked surprised, even a little shock at the two people standing in her foyer. "I… I thought…."

Tom extended the black bag in front of him, dangling it over his wife's shoulder, "Stephanie got held up at the hospital. Ruth agreed to come in her stead."

Ruth took the bag from her husband, "He neglected to say that I wasn't completely informed of where I was going," she said a bit harshly in her husband's direction.

Quin tilted her head at the red head who was now glaring at her, "If you'd prefer I can just run him to the ER. I'll wake up Quang…"

Ruth knew she was acting the ass, but it was hard being on the same planet with Quinlan McKee, let alone in the same room. "I'm here now, no sense in taking the baby out in the cold." She gestured to the dining room door on the right of the hall. "In here is fine."

Tom pushed back the large pocket door revealing the formal dining room. The furniture was still covered in protective drop clothes. The room was probably being open for the first time since McKee had returned. He pulled back the large drape off the table making room for McKee to ease the child down on the polished cherry wood surface. She then stepped back to let Ruth work.

The doctor found nothing serious wrong with the child. He was simply teething. That caused fussing, and extra acid in the baby's stomach caused the vomiting. She looked over at the woman leaning against the wall, "He's cutting teeth and a little dehydrated."

"I picked up some juice and pedolite on the way here…"

"Pedolite is better than the juice. If need be, cut the juice with water."

Quin nodded her understanding.

"Do you have a crib?"

"Upstairs, across from our room." Quin said then corrected herself, "I mean my room. Quang got it ready."

Ruth picked up the baby and made her way up the stairs without replying to the brunette. She just wanted to get the baby settled and then get on her own way. She knew the inside of the big house as well as she did her own and had little trouble finding the correct room. She was surprised to find a complete nursery set up with every convenience a new baby could ever need. The Doctor was always amazed at Quin McKee's ability to have exactly what's needed when its needed most. She nestled the child down into the crib and waited until she was sure he was asleep. She heard someone enter the room and instinctually knew it was her husband.

"Everything okay?" Tom asked as he stopped beside his wife looking at the now sleeping baby.

"He's fine." She brushed straight brown hair from the child's face letting her fingers luxuriate in the softness of the baby's skin. "Did you talk to her?"

"She went out to the porch. I um… talked to Quang for a bit. It's kind of complicated."

Ruth nodded her head and frowned, "It usually is with McKee involved."

The couple left the room silently. Tom glanced at the master bedroom as he walked down the hall. It was in much the same state as the dinning room. Its furniture covered in heavy drop clothes to protect it from settling dust. He continued down the stairs with his wife.

Quang stood at the bottom of the stairs and gave a small smile at Ruth and Tom as they descended. "Hey Doc, is he…."

"Just fine Quang, but you look like hell."

Quang shrugged. "Been a busy couple of days, but it's better now."

Ruth took a close look at the man in front of her. He showed signs of exhaustion, but there was a smile in his eyes. She wondered at the details of this latest McKee adventure. She would extract them from her husband later. "Tell that slave driver to give you a break. She owes me big time, and I'm starting to call in my favors." Ruth said as she closed in on Quang and hugged him tightly to her. "Be careful." She said into his ear as she ended the hug.

Quang stepped back and looked at the doctor, "I'm always careful, if I'm not McKee will kick my butt. Besides, she is giving me a break on this one. It's kind of my fault." He shrugged his narrow shoulders.

"I'm sure that's what she told you…"

Quang stood straight and rolled his shoulders back, "Listen up Doc, I know you and she have issues, but she's doing right here. She doesn't have to do anything, but she's helping me." He poked a thin finger at his chest. "So lay off for tonight. Maybe you can pick up the hate fest tomorrow." He turned and left the hallway, disappearing into a doorway off to the left.

Ruth stood speechless. Her mouth gaped for some retort as the man exited. But there was nothing to say Quang spoke the truth. She closed her mouth and looked at her husband. "Am I that transparent?"

Tom encircled his wife with his arm. "Like crystal my dear, let's go home. Maybe things will be better in the daylight."

Quin had heard the three people's discussion from the other side of the screen door. She knew she had amends to make with the Ross', but she was having a hard time taking action to make them. She moved back into the shadows of the porch and watched her former friends leave. Quin swung her legs over the low banister that framed the porch, and sat on the rail as the van pulled away from the curb. It had been a long day, and night. A new day began as she watched the eastern sky lighten behind the mountains.

The cry of a baby brought her from her sunrise gazing. She sighed and stretched. This was going to be a definite learning experience. She quickly ran through names of people who might owe her a favor that could nanny the brood of children. She needed to get back to work, and needed Quang to help her. As she ascended the stairs she had a short list to start calling as soon as it was polite enough to call and wake normal people up.

After calling nearly twenty people Quin had hit pay dirt. There was just one problem. The twenty something black man in front of her didn't fit her definition of a nanny. He came highly recommended by a trusted associate, but it didn't seem normal for someone so young and male to want this job.

Anthony Davis squirmed a bit under the brunette's intense gaze. He knew what the problem was the moment he had introduced himself. "I assure you Ms. McKee, I'm not a child molester."

It was Quin's turn to squirm as the man spoke what she was thinking. "I'm sorry, but it's just odd," she tried to explain.

"I understand." Anthony said as he stood, "You have my references. If you change your mind, call me." He nodded to the seated woman and turned to leave.

Quin sighed. "Wait. It'll take some getting use to, and since Pete Sacks says you're okay, then I can at least give it a go."

Anthony suppresses a gleeful smile and a relieved sigh of his own. He really needed the job. It was live in and the promised wage would pay for one more quarter of school. He turned and extended his hand.

Quin stood and shook the offered hand and smiled for the first time at the man, "Welcome to the mad house Anthony. When can you start?"

"My stuff is in my van."

A dark eyebrow raised, "That sure of your self?"

"No ma'am, homeless as of noon yesterday. I couldn't pay for the new semester and an apartment." Anthony explained.

Quin smiled, "Then we are both fortunate this day."

Ruth sipped at her decaf coffee and regarded her husband across from her. They had made the short trip home in silence. Both too wound up to return to sleep, they decided to have some coffee and talk. Problem was that neither had said a word so far. Ruth sighed and looked at her reflection on the dark surface of her coffee. "I suppose I can go first."

Tom looked up from where he to was gazing into the clouds of cream in his coffee. "I would, but I don't know where to start. There's things you don't know."

"Things? Things about McKee?" Tom's silver head nodded. "Start with anything honey. How bad can it be compared to what she did to us three years ago."

Tom shifted in his chair, "Some of it is bad… Ruth. You'll have to listen okay, once I start…"

Ruth raised a hand and got up from the table. She left the kitchen but soon returned with a folded piece of paper and a pen. "I promise. I'll just jot my questions down as you go and ask when you're finish. Is that okay?"

Tom smiled and nodded. He rose and refilled their cups before settling down once again. "All right, Grace told you how she met McKee." Ruth nodded, "Well it was more than good girl meets bad girl and falls in love…."

Vivian climbed the few steps to the large concrete porch. It had been several days since she had spoken with the PI. They had played a good game of answering machine tag, and rattled each other's cells phones. It seemed easier just to try and catch the woman at home. She pressed the doorbell and knocked on the colorful stained glass for good measure.

A high squeal and giggling came through the heavy glass and wood. A blonde eyebrow slowly raised at the sound and made her step back to check the address on the house to be sure she was at the right place. The door opened as she peered at the four numbers on the pillar of the porch.

"May I help you Miss?"

Vivian's head snapped back to the door at hearing the male voice, "Ummm is Quin home?" She asked cautiously.

"Ms. McKee is in her office. Is she expecting you?" The black man adjusted something under his arm.

It took a moment for Vivian to discern the shape of a small child who wiggled and giggled as the man tried to hold on to him. Now she was concerned, she did not recall Quin having any children. And who was the man answering the door? No one ever mention him either. He wasn't here last week, and neither was the kid. The blonde frowned to herself.

"Miss?" Anthony called to the woman who looked perplexed.

Vivian shook her head, "Ummm she's probably not expecting me, but she might want to speak with me."

Anthony weighed this answer. McKee had said she wasn't to be disturbed. She and Quang had disappeared to the basement early that afternoon after helping him unload his van into the garage apartment in back of the house. He was then introduced to the children who were due for lunch and then some games to help with their cabin fever that was carried over from being cooped up in the small apartment for the last week. He looked closely at the tall blonde woman. The gold badge at her hip made up his mind for him. "If you'll come in I'll tell her you're here. Who should I say…."

"Detective Walsh." Vivian supplied as she passed by the man and giggling child into the house. Two more children sprinted across the wide hall from one door to the next. Vivian stopped and looked at the man who let her in with a tilt to her head.

Anthony shrugged, "I've been trying to get them rounded up for a nap for about thirty minutes. They have me out numbered and the house is rather large. My hope is they will drop from exhaustion and I'll gain the upper hand." He shifted his load under his arm, the child enjoying the game with a squeal. Anthony nodded down the hall, "Do you know the way to the…."

"Bat cave?" Vivian offered with a smile.

The young man laughed, "That's exactly what I thought when I saw it too."

"I know the way," another child scampered by, "I think you have your work cut out for you here."

"If you feel like lending a hand after your talk with Ms. McKee…"

Vivian shook her head as she retreated down the hall, "no way mister, I'm a cop, not a baby wrangler."

McKee sat in front of her computer entering another stream of words in hope the search would come back with something that would help her and Quang head in the right direction.

Quang snoozed happily away on the couch. The man was exhausted after his four-day ordeal. The girl named Laney was his. Her green eyes a dead give away. Quang seemed attached to the small five year old. He had even threatened Anthony with bodily harm if anything should befall the girl. Quin thought Quang was going to be a good father. He certainly had the protective streak for the job.

Quin stretched in her chair, reaching her arms for the ceiling palms up. She gave a satisfied groan that turned into a menacing growl as smoke rose from the monitor in front of her. She scrambled under the desk to unplug the device.

That was how Vivian found her. She quietly stood admiring the view of the PI's rear and smiled at the stream of profanity that came from the small space the brunette had wedged herself into. She broke out into full laughter when Quin ran out of English words and moved onto what sounded like German.

Quin looked behind her and saw the tapered dark green slacks and low heel shoes of the person who was being entertained by her. She hoped it was Vivian Walsh as she backed out of the hole she was in. She waved away the smoke in the air and smiled at the detective, feeling as though a wish had been granted.

"Trouble?" Vivian asked with a bright smile. Her arms were across her chest, long fingers on one hand drummed on a white linen covered arm.

Quin shrugged and grinned, "Nothing I can't handle detective." The words were barely out when flames leapt into the air from the back of the aged monitor. "Whoa!" Quin shouted and dashed for a small fire extinguisher mounted on the wall above the couch. She scowled at her friend Quang who slept merrily on, then dashed back to douse the flames. "See, all under control," she said as she once again waved smoke away and set the spent extinguisher on the floor.

"I see." Vivian said barely controlling her laughter.

Quin in an effort to take the focus off herself ambled over to the tall blonde. "Do you find me entertaining Detective?" she said as low and menacing as she could.

Vivian couldn't hold it any longer and busted out into full laughter. She nearly doubled over with the effort. Tears ran from her eyes as she tried to catch her breath, but every time she looked at the brunette a new round of laughter would start.

Quin stood with a straight face and a blush. She didn't see what was so funny. After nearly two minutes of the detective's laughter she had enough. On the next clear breath the blonde took Quin moved forward and up onto the tip of her toes to deliver a heated kiss to unsuspecting lips.

Vivian's body leaned into the sensation, her lips almost immediately opened at the brunettes requesting tongue. Every nerve in her body came to attention and her knees threatened to collapse. In an effort to give as good as she got she stepped forward, forcing Quin back against the edge of the desk, her lips pursued the PI's, her hands taking hold of Quin's and pinning them to the edge of the desk. A deep throb started between her legs, a sensation she wished to increase.

Quin kicked off her loafers, and extended her legs onto either side of Vivian. She wrapped her legs around the taller woman's thighs, crossing her sock covered feet and pulling the woman closer to her. The deep moan the blonde made was repeated by herself as the kiss continued.

Quang rolled over and opened his eyes. A lazy smile graced his lips as he watched the two women. Then his eyes popped completely open as he realized he wasn't enjoying a dream but reality. He lost his balance and ended up on the floor with a thud. He scrambled to his feet and scurried for a pillow to cover his obvious arousal. "Damn McKee, sorry." He backed toward the stairs.

Quin's eyebrows drew together, then her eyes opened and widened as the words and who had spoke them finally penetrated her pleasurable haze. She reluctantly ended the kiss and rested her head against Vivian's shoulder. "He can sleep through a fire, and you laughing hysterically, but can't manage through a kiss." She said as she burrowed deeper into the blondes embrace.

Vivian laughed softly, "Who are all these people in your house McKee? I thought you were a solo act?" She caressed Quin's back holding her close, unwilling to let go of the wonderful feeling of having the compact body next to hers. She felt Quin's lips smile against the skin of her neck.

"Quang kind of works with me, and the others are a long story." Quin sat back and looked into Vivian's blue eyes, "I assume you're here for some reason other than to laugh at me and get me all worked up."

Vivian loosened her hold on Quin, but couldn't help the soft smile that seemed plastered to her face, "Well I was going to inquire if you had any idea where Justin Downs had got off to. He seems to be missing."

Quin sighed and looked at the remains of the computer monitor, "That's what I was doing when the damn thing decided to go up in smoke." She turned back to the blonde, "I just need to switch out the monitor." She raised her hand and caressed Vivian's cheek. "This is such a bad idea," she said softly.

Vivian's smile twitched, "Why's that? We seemed to be doing okay." She moved forward and confirmed her statement by giving Quin a soft lingering kiss.

Quin's eyes closed and she melted into the sensation, only to shake her head and gently push the detective away from her. "I'm sorry, as much as I'd like…."

The blonde backed away giving Quin the room to move, "Hey, you started it."

"And I'm ending it." Quin said as she slipped on her shoes. "I shouldn't have done that in the first place."

Vivian reached out and stopped the brunette's retreat, "Hold up, what exactly is the problem McKee?"

Quin spun to face the detective. "I just can't."

The words were clipped, precise and final. All Vivian could do was watch as McKee climbed the stairs two at a time and disappeared.

Ruth knew her mouth was hanging open, but she just couldn't believe she was the last to know what she had just been told.

"Are you okay?" Tom asked his gaping wife.

Ruth blinked, "She was pregnant?"

Tom nodded.

"And she didn't tell anyone?"

"I didn't know until last year. I didn't think to tell you, and since McKee up and disappeared, it seemed trivial." Tom shrugged his shoulders.

"Trivial? Christ Tom this explains why she went off the deep end. I mean imagine it. Grace was carrying McKee's child, right?" Ruth got up and refilled her mug. "McKee's egg and Grace's cousin's sperm. That's smart."

Tom ran his fingers through his hair, "I don't understand. Why was it smart?"

Ruth retook her seat. "They would both have parental rights — Grace as the surrogate mother, and McKee as the biological mother." She said as she added sugar to the decaffeinated coffee. She made a face as she took the first sip, "I'll be so glad to have my premium back."

Tom reviewed the last of the conversation. Ruth had listened pretty well up till now, he still had one bit of info that he was sure she wouldn't believe but was true nonetheless. "Remember the night she came here?"

"McKee? To kill you? Gee Tom I don't know. It's not like I have a reoccurring nightmare about it," Ruth replied harshly.

Tom rolled his eyes, "Fine. What you don't know is that her gun wasn't loaded."

"What?" Ruth asked loudly her coffee cup hitting the table hard and a small tsunami of the dark liquid spilled over the edge to pool around the base of the mug.

Tom hung his head, "It wasn't even loaded. She came here to commit suicide I think, not that she didn't have it in her mind that somehow I was responsible for Grace being killed. I think she really counted on me being ready for her and ending it for her."

Ruth was silent for several long minutes.

"I know I've held some things back…"

"Some." Ruth agreed quietly.

"I just think that now is the time…"

"To let go of the past because it's eating me up?" Ruth offered.

Tom shook his head, "Ummm, yeah." He reached across the table and grasped her small hand, "I love you Ruth."

This created a smile on the red heads face, "I love you too Tom. No more secrets okay? I feel like an ass, something that could have been minimized by understanding the situation a bit more." She was silent for another long moment, and then her head bolted up, "Oh my god, the nursery, at the house. It was for their baby." She unconsciously rubbed her stomach in slow circles. "She was all alone, we left her all alone." Ruth whispered as a lone tear streaked her face.

PART 5

"WHERE THE HELL is she?" Vivian asked the Asian man beside her. She shifted her feet on the floorboard of the old Volkswagen Square Back, hoping beyond hope that nothing would bond permanently to her shoes.

"She'll call." Quang said as he too shifted. He couldn't believe he was waiting in a car with a cop. He risked a side ways glance at the tall blonde detective. His earlier eye full of McKee's lip lock with the woman popped into his mind. He scrunched his eyes up in an effort to rid himself of the erotic vision.

"Are you okay?" Vivian asked watching the man who seemed to be in pain.

"Fine." Quang squeaked. The small phone that was at the ready on the narrow dash rang saving him any further conversation about his current condition. "Yo!" He answered and started to scribble on a small note pad. He glanced at the detective, "Well she kind of insisted, and you always said to cooperate fully with the law."

Vivian smiled. It didn't take much threatening to convince Quang that she should come with him. He almost seemed eager to take her. She only wished they had taken her car instead of the somewhat uncertain Volkswagen they sat in. The forty-mile trip was uncomfortable and cramped. But she did have to admit that they blended in well with the beach crowd where they were parked.

"Okay, but she has a gun, and I don't. Just remember that McKee." Quang finished the call. He then tucked the phone away in his pants pocket and started the car. "It's just a couple of blocks."

Vivian smiled, "Forward then James, and don't spare the horses." She quipped. She received a blank stare from the younger man. "Never mind. Let's just go. I hate the beach and want to get back to the city."

Quang nodded, "cool."

McKee sat at a table along busy Main St. in Huntington Beach. It was early evening and the crowds were just coming out to enjoy the cool night air and take in a movie, shop, or get a meal at any one of a dozen or more restaurants that crowded the little downtown area. She sipped on her raspberry tea and watched a door across the street. The upstairs apartment lights had been turned on just moments before and was the only confirmation she needed that someone was home. She heard before she saw the Square Back pull up in front of her. She rose and crossed the street.

"What do we do now?" Vivian asked as she watched the short brunette enter the building opposite them.

"Wait."

Vivian sighed. "For?" She drew the word out.

"McKee to flush the guy out."

"Oh." Vivian looked up at the building, "and we do what, give chase?"

Quang nodded, "If need be."

The detective huffed and sank back into the vinyl seat wishing she could stretch her legs out. It was turning into a very long day.

Quin walked up the stairs to the second floor apartments that sat over the novelty shops below. It was pricey living. A small apartment here would run fifteen hundred or more a month, so someone had to be financing it for Justin Downs and his girlfriend. Neither whom earned more than half that amount in a month at their respective jobs.

She counted the doors as she went coming to her destination. She leaned to listen at the door just as it swung open. She nearly lost her balance.

Justin Downs looked like the proverbial deer in the headlights for a moment, but regained his composer quickly slamming the door back on Quin and running in the opposite direction.

Quin growled, "Don't you dare run on me Mr. Downs!" But she knew that was exactly what the young man was doing as she rushed through the apartment after him, just catching a glimpse of his faded jeans going out the window onto the fire escape. "Fuck!" She climbed out the small window and grabbed her phone as she started down the metal steps.

The phone chimed again, making the occupants of the small car jump. Quang fumbled with it a bit as he pulled it from his pocket. "Yeah?" He looked up and then behind him as he started the car. "Back alley, got it."

A horn sounded just as the car started rolling backwards. Quang checked the mirror, "God damn it!" He slammed on the breaks causing Vivian to lurch forward and brace herself on the dusty dash with her hands.

The detective opened her car door and stood scanning the street first one way then the next. As she looked to her left a second time she saw Justin Downs sprint across the street weaving through cars. She closed the door and slapped the roof as she leaned down to speak through the window, "He's headed into the parking garage, meet us over there!"

Quang didn't even have time to nod as the blonde disappeared from his view. He placed the car in reverse once again and backed out into the busy stream of traffic. He alternated flipping people off with a colorful stream of curse words as he finally broke free and onto Pacific Coast Hwy.

Quin was about thirty yards behind Justin Downs when she saw a flash of dark green cut in front of her just behind the man. She weaved around the slow moving traffic and into the parking garage. She followed Vivian's blonde head as she picked up speed. It looked like the detective might have him as they crossed back into the open street. Quin was just twenty feet from them when her world went black.

Vivian stood up triumphantly, dusting her hands off. Justin Downs lay at her feet handcuffed and panting from his run. She looked behind her expecting to find McKee. Instead she saw the faded yellow Square Back with Quang huddled over a crumpled form wedged under the front bumper.

"Oh no. Quin." She jerked Downs to his feet and dragged him across the street, pushing through the crowd that had gathered. A local police car's siren whooped. She approached the car and showed her badge.

"Hey guys, you think I can stash my perp in your car for a few?" She asked the burly corporal behind the wheel.

The man considered the request and examined the gold detective badge, "Kind of out of your jurisdiction aren't ya' Sarge?"

"You gotta go where they go." Vivian shrugged wanting to dump Downs and get to Quin.

"Go ahead. He'll be safe here." The man pointed to the scene, "Everything okay over there?"

"I don't know yet, my partner might be hurt." She pushed Downs into the back seat of the cruiser.

"I'll come with you." The corporal offered exiting the car and creating a path for Vivian to walk through.

As Vivian got closer she sighed in relief at hearing McKee's voice, a smile came to her face as she listened to the tirade through which Quang was suffering.

Quin came to out of the blackness with a moan. She opened her eyes to see Quang kneeling over her. "Quang?"

"Christ McKee, man you just came out of nowhere…"

"Quang, please tell me you didn't just hit me with your piece of shit car." Quin moved to sit up but her head was spinning and she couldn't tell which way up was exactly.

"I'm sorry McKee, I was…"

"You fucking hit me with your skanky ass car?" Her hand made purchase on the bumper of the car and she hauled herself to a sitting position, she felt something trickle down her face and reflexively took a swipe at it with her hand regretting the action instantly. "Damn it all to hell." She said as her hand that was still bruised from the week before now was scraped and cut, and covered in blood from a wound on her head. She looked at her legs that began to throb with pain, and tried to stretch her back that she was sure was fucked. "Help me up." She held up her left hand.

Vivian stepped forward and wrapped her arm around Quin's shoulder, her hand grabbed her forearm that stuck up in the air and gently lifted the smaller woman to her feet. "Are you all right?"

Quin blinked a few times then looked at Vivian, "No."

"Ma'am do you know this man?" the officer who had joined Vivian asked as he inched closer to Quang.

"Unfortunately." Quin said as she took mental stock of herself.

"Would you like for me to hold him for attempted…"

"MCKEE!" Quang pleaded.

Quin laughed lightly, "No I can torture him all on my own officer, thanks."

The officer nodded and started to disperse the crowd of gawkers.

"Thanks McKee."

"Fuck you Quang." Quin growled, then turned to Vivian, "Did you get him?"

"Yup, all safe and sound." She pointed to the police cruiser where a defeated Justin Downs sat.

"Cool. I think I need an ice pack." Quin said as she took a tentative step.

"What about my car McKee?" Quang asked as the brunette hobbled off with the help of the detective.

The two women stopped and turned to look at the car. A large dent was in the hood where McKee had impacted and the windshield was shattered from the force of her body rolling up into it.

McKee shrugged the best she could, "It was a piece of crap anyway Quang. Time to buy a real car."

Vivian nodded, "Not enough leg room kid. You're better off."

The women turned together and walked away to gather Justin Downs and head back to Los Angeles.

Quang looked at his broken little car then back at the women who now had Justin Downs in tow and leaving him. "HEY!… McKee!"

Quin's shoulders slumped, "What!"

"How am I supposed to get home?" Quang asked.

Quin shook her head and said, "I don't know, bus maybe?" She turned back around and disappeared into the parking garage with Vivian and Downs.

"Bus?" Quang kicked his bumper.

"Hey kid, you want me to call you a tow?" The officer asked.

Quang felt like crying. "Yeah, might as well." He admitted defeated. "How late do the buses run?"

The officer laughed, "All night kid."

Vivian sunk behind the wheel of the big Chevy, "Now this is a car."

"Where are you taking me?" The man whined from the back seat.

Quin cradled her aching head in one hand, "Shut up Downs." She hissed.

Vivian scooted across the large bench seat to get closer to Quin, "How do you feel, really?" Gray bloodshot eyes looked up at her.

"Like I was hit by a car."

The blonde smiled and moved a bit of dark hair from a bruised forehead, "Can you be a bit more specific? Do you need a visit to the ER?"

"Please no, anything but a hospital." Quin groaned and leaned into Vivian's gentle touch on her cheek.

"What about me? I have rights you know." Justin Downs once again voiced from the back seat.

"Shut up Downs." Vivian said as she lowered her hand and slid back across the seat. She had to put a little space between herself and Quin. She wanted nothing more than to gather the smaller woman up and comfort her, but now was not the place or the time. Quin needed some medical attention, and she knew of only one place to go to get it with out resorting to a hospital.

They had just pulled out of the parking garage when Quin gave into her body's request for rest. Vivian made the rest of the drive in silence after threatening to shoot Downs' toes off if he didn't shut up. Forty-five minutes later she pulled up in front of Tom Ross' house.

Quin woke to the faint smell of apples and cinnamon. A smell she associated with only one place. And that one place should be the last place she should be.

"Lie still McKee. You have a concussion and a couple broken ribs. You're lucky to be alive at all." The voice was soft and caring, and belonged to someone who by all rights should be doing anything but offering comfort.

Quin risked one swollen eye to take in her surroundings. She quickly confirmed that she was at the Ross' house and better yet in Tom and Ruth's bed. "The scene of the crime," she muttered through dry lips.

Ruth frowned, "It would seem so." She picked up a cup of water with a straw dangling in it, "Would you like some water?"

The brunette turned her head and tried to focus on the redhead, "Ya know this is a great opportunity to get even; just slip something in the cup Doc and put me out of both our miseries."

"I think not McKee. If you want out of this life, you'll have to do it your self. Now drink. Slowly."

The straw was pressed to her lips and she took a short sip and lay back down. She held the water in her mouth for a few moments before allowing it to slide down her throat.

"You should be in a hospital." Ruth said as she replaced the water on the nightstand. "Want to tell me what happened?"

"Got hit by a car."

Ruth couldn't help but chuckle, Quinlan McKee was straightforward if anything. "So Vivian said. Who's the guy handcuffed to my kitchen table?" She got up from her bedside position and retrieved two ace bandages from the closet shelf.

"Justin Downs."

Ruth came back to the bed, "I need for you to sit up McKee. I need to bind your ribs." She helped the small brunette to a sitting position.

Quin's head spun, and she felt like she was going to vomit. "Hold it here for a minute okay? I don't feel so good."

"You have a big bump on your head. I had to put in a couple stitches up there." Ruth explained and waited for Quin to give her the go ahead to pivot her legs off the edge of the bed.

Quin took a deep breath, a painful breath that caused her to cough. Which in turn caused more pain, and the urge to vomit grew right along with the other unpleasant sensations. When she finally got everything under control she eased her legs over the side of the bed with Ruth's help.

Ruth took the hem of Quin's t-shirt and raised it. The bruises revealed were hot and turning purple. The doctor took the opportunity to probe the ribs and along Quin's back, double checking for injuries. Short intakes of air were the only sign the brunette gave if she hit a sore spot. Satisfied that nothing was broken she started to wrap Quin's ribs. "Who is Justin Downs?" She asked as she secured the first length of bandage.

"I'm not sure yet, but he's someone important to the case I'm… we are working on."

"We?"

"Yeah, ummm, Vivian and I are collaborating on the Peer kid."

Ruth finished the second wrap. "After you shower have someone help you re-wrap these. It'll make it easier to breath."

"Why are you doing this Ruth?" the question had been rattling in her head since she woke up.

The doctor pulled McKee's shirt down and sat back. The two women regarded each other for a long moment. Ruth finally sighed, "Tom told me about Grace."

Quin blinked a few times, but remained silent.

"He told me about the baby McKee."

Quin's heart skipped a few beats. She had no idea anyone had known besides her and Grace and, "Stephanie must have…"

"I don't know who told him, but it gave me some insight. I'm sorry. We weren't there for you then Quin. I thought you had come that night, here, to kill Tom. He thinks…"

Quin tried to stand suddenly. She didn't feel like having this conversation, but her head had other ideas as the room spun out of control and she collapsed back onto the bed with a moan. Tears spilled from her eyes as she curled up into a ball on the bed.

"Quin…"

"I… I tried to do it myself. I couldn't."

Ruth moved to the bed and cautiously reached out to comfort the sobbing woman.

"I want a lawyer." Justin Downs said for the sixth time.

Tom Ross growled through clinched teeth, "You can't have a lawyer, you're not under arrest."

Vivian chuckled, then cleared her throat, "Listen Justin, we know you had something to do with Scott Peer's abduction, but we think you're a small fish. We want the big fish."

Justin Downs was a mere twenty-two years old. He looked like he could pass for sixteen, if you shaved the blonde beard from his face. Wavy blonde locks covered his head, and a deep tan added to his surfer boy looks.

Justin studied the handcuff that secured him to the wooden chair in the overly cheerful family dining room. "They'll kill me if I talk to you." He said softly.

Vivian and Tom looked at each other, "McKee." The word was voiced in unison. Sly smiles congratulated each other.

Ruth walked into the kitchen at that moment, "What about Quin?"

Tom narrowed his eyes at his wife. That was the first time in three years that she had used McKee's first name, and she had even said it with warmth. "How is she?" Tom asked as he nudged his partner under the table and threw his head minutely toward the stairs.

Vivian nodded and rose faking a stretch, "Nature calls fellas."

Ruth looked at her husband and friend and smirked, "She's resting. Try and let her sleep if she is, and don't stay too long if she isn't." She directed at Vivian who at least looked embarrassed. Tom gave his best innocent face to his wife in reply.

Quin felt the bed dip beside her and a hand came to rest on her hip. She suspected Vivian had come to check on her and confirmed it with a quick peek through partially closed eyes. "Hey."

"Hey back at ya'. How do you feel?" Vivian asked as she looked over the brunette herself.

"Like crap. What's up?"

"Justin Downs."

"Is he talking?" Quin shifted to her back letting a twinge of pain cross her face, but nothing more.

Vivian used the newly freed space on the bed to pull her legs up and sit facing the prone woman. "I think he will, but he needs to feel safe. He seems certain that his life will end if he speaks with us."

"Safe? And you and Tom already have this worked out?"

Vivian smiled, "We do, and it's not like you'll notice another body taking up space at your place anyway."

Quin looked blankly at the woman beside her, "You're joking right?"

Vivian shook her head.

"I currently have five children, a nanny, Quang, and my self." Quin counted on her fingers, "and you think that you can slip in one more?"

"Well maybe two more, and of course I'll be hanging out to help." The blonde clarified.

"Two more?"

"The girlfriend."

Quin nodded, "Of course, the girlfriend, perfect."

Four hours later, the McKee residence buzzed with activity as sleeping arrangements were finalized. The children grouped together in two rooms with sleeping bags for the time being. Tom vowed to be back in the AM with bunk beds so everyone would be comfortable. Justin Downs and his girlfriend, newly arrived from OrangeCounty, were given the guest bedroom, and Quin found herself purposefully put away in her own bedroom with an overly mothering Vivian Walsh hovering over her.

"You know," Quin started as her shirt was lifted over her head, leaving her in her sports bra and bandages. She was then instructed to lower her arms. She almost sighed in relief as the pain the simple action caused receded. "I've been doing the getting dressed and undressed thing for almost thirty years."

Vivian smiled as she kneeled and untied Quin's boots, "Okay, probably true, but when was the last time you were hit by a car and had to get undressed?"

"About eight months ago." Quin said easily.

Vivian stopped in the middle of slipping a black Doc Marten from Quin's foot and looked up at the woman to see if she was joking. Finding no humor in the brunette's face at all, she shook her head and went back to her task. "Well this time I'm here to help you. So just suck it up, cause I'm not going to leave you alone."

A smile crossed Quin's lips. If she was honest with herself she really wanted the blonde to stay. It had been a long time since anyone had taken care of her, and it felt good. "Will we be talking to Downs in the morning?"

"I don't know Ruth wants you to rest."

"Humph." Quin muttered as a tug came to the waist of her jeans, she raised a fine black eyebrow at the detective. "I usually require a date before letting strange women take my pants off."

Vivian blushed but quickly recovered, "You're safe with me Ms. McKee. I'm an officer of the law and mean no harm or disrespect. I only wish to serve and protect." She let her hands rest at Quin's hips, her thumbs hooked into the waistband of the soft faded denim.

Quin looked into Vivian's deep blue eyes. She wished she could just drown in those azure depths. She was so intent on those eyes that she missed the blonde moving in closer, that was until she felt Vivian's soft lips on her own, and lost focus as she let her own eyes shut, welcoming the tender comfort the kiss seemed to convey.

Vivian pulled back and a soft smile covered her face. Quin's eyes were still closed, and her lips still in a soft pucker from their shared kiss. "I won't hurt you Quinlan."

Quin sighed and shook her head in resignation, "Fine. There's a pair of sweats downstairs in my bag."

Vivian held up the dark blue sweat pants seemingly from nowhere.

Gray eyes narrowed at the blonde, "You think you're so smart."

"I am smart. Now shut up and lift your ass so I can get these jeans off you."

"Romantic too." Quin smirked as she raised her hips off the bed and let Vivian peel the denim from her body.

The detective inhaled as the bruised and scarred legs were revealed, "Jesus Quin, it's a wonder you can even walk." Long fingers ran gently over the damaged flesh.

"I haven't always made the right decisions in some situations. I'm more of a charge in kind of gal, and I've paid for it." Quin explained as she enjoyed the gentle touch.

Vivian removed her hands from the warm skin and picked up the sweat pants. A few skillful maneuvers later and she had them up and settled onto the brunette. She held up a white t-shirt with a questioning eyebrow.

Quin shrugged, "Why not, but no touching." She lifted her bra up and over her head. The bra was taken from her hands and the soft cotton of the t-shirt fell down her arms, and over her torso.

"See, I can be good." Vivian patted Quin's knee as she went to the head of the bed and turned down the covers. "Into bed." She ordered with a point of a long finger.

Quin complied with a small growl in the blonde's direction.

"Wait. Hold out your hand."

Two white pills were placed in Quin's palm and a glass of water was held in front of her face. She placed the pills in her mouth and took several large swallows of water to ease them down her throat.

"Good." Vivian helped the brunette lie down and pulled the covers up over the battered body. "Now sleep."

"What? No good night kiss?" Quin asked with a pout.

The detective leaned over Quin and placed a soft kiss on the PI's forehead. "Please stay in bed. Don't make me post a guard at the damn door."

"As if." Quin retorted as she snuggled into the warming bed.

Vivian moved to the door and took a last look at the woman in the bed. She knew she was falling hard for the brunette. There was no denying it. She wondered though if Quin would give them a chance or simply keep running away. She decided she was going to pursue the small woman. Vivian smiled to her self as she heard a soft ‘Thank you' when she eased the door shut.

PART 6

"ARE YOU SURE this is all going to work when you get done?" Quang Ngo was crouched down peering under a desk as Justin Downs plugged in the last few power cords to the new computer system he had built over the last three days.

"Positive." Justin scooted out of the cramp opening and stood up. "At least now she can use the stuff without creating a fire. Some of those monitors were older than me." He said as he poised his index finger over the power button of the new server. "Here goes nothing."

Quang held his breath as the machine whirred quietly and images popped up on three monitors. A smile started to tug at his lips when everything seemed to be working. He and the blonde man had split their time between the computer repair and helping Anthony with the kids. Justin offered to do the upgrade on the computers if someone would venture out to buy the stuff he needed. It was the only way he had to say thank you at the moment, and he hoped that Quinlan McKee would like it.

Vivian stepped of the bottom step into the basement, "Please tell me it works." She pleaded with the young men who were congratulating themselves.

Justin turned and beamed a triumphant smile at the detective, "Like a charm."

"Lucky for you," came the clear voice of McKee as she joined Vivian at the bottom of the steps. She made her way to her desk and sat in her customary chair. She sniffed the air, "Well at least nothing is burning." She furrowed her brows at the now mostly empty space. "Mr. Downs, where are my computers?"

The blonde young man gulped, "I… I…" A stiff elbow from Quang dislodge Justin's voice, "I built a server?"

"You don't sound sure Mr. Downs." McKee turned her chair, narrowing her eyes at the nervous man.

"I put all your drives in the same box." Justin pointed to the lone tower sitting on the desk. "You can access them from any of the three work stations." He moved around McKee and demonstrated. "Everything is here, just like you left it."

Quin watched, then followed Justin's example. Sure enough all her programs worked and her data was still available. "Very awesome Mr. Downs." The brunette smiled at Justin and received a nervous smile in return. She turned back and accessed her email, groaning at the copious amount that streamed in.

"Hello all." Tom Ross announced as he came down the stairs, his very pregnant wife just behind him. He shook hands with Quang, "Sorry to hear about your car kid, probably would have done less damage if you had hit a brick wall though."

Quang nodded in agreement and received a hard glare from McKee. Vivian chuckled and helped Ruth sit on the couch. Justin replayed what the detective said a few times and let out a roaring laugh.

"A brick wall." The young man repeated, "That's a good one."

McKee ran her tongue along her front teeth, "Need I remind you Mr. Downs that you are a guest in my house, at my discretion?"

Justin's laughter faded off and he ended by clearing his throat, "Umm, sorry." He shrugged his shoulders and sought refuge behind the tall blonde detective.

"All right then." Quin swiveled to face the room full of people, "I think it's time we get back on track. I do believe Mr. Downs has a story of amazing fact to tell us." She looked at the man in question and pointed to an empty chair, "Whenever you're ready."

Ruth Ross cut a stitch from Quin's scalp, the brunette wincing at the tug of the tweezers then the sting of the antiseptic that was immediately applied.

"You're such a wuss McKee."

Quin said nothing as another resounding snip foretold of another tug and another sting.

"Did you believe him?"

That's the question of the hour isn't it? Quin thought as she sucked in a bit of air. "Could you be a bit gentler there Doc?" She received a soft slap to the back of her head.

"Sit still. I'm almost done."

"Fine." Quin crossed her arms. Soon she was surrounded by children wondering what was going on. The smallest of those present climbed into and stood on McKee's lap and peered at Ruth's ministrations. "How's it look Timmy?" She questioned the five year old.

"You gots a bare spot Kin, and some little bits of blood." The boy informed the PI. "Does it hurt?"

Ruth gave the last stitch a particularly hard tug. Quin yelped, causing the group of boys to laugh.

"Guess it does." Timmy said as he slid down into Quin's lap facing her.

"A little, but not bad." Quin confided.

Timmy raised his chin and pointed to a scar, "I got this when I was three."

Quin made a show of regarding the thin scar, "That's a beauty," she ran her finger over the underside of the boys chin, "How'd ya' get it?"

"Fell on the steps."

"Hmmm." Quin pointed to her left temple, "That's how I got this one here." The boys gathered closer to look at the fine line. Christopher the oldest of the group whistled, then rolled up his pant leg.

"I got this on the jungle gym." He pointed with pride to an oval shaped scar on his shinbone.

This led to an unveiling of numerous more scars and great tales of playground adventures. Ruth quietly packed her things back in her bag as McKee entertained the group of children. She watched as the brunette examined each little imperfection as it was unveiled by a child. It struck her again what a good mother the woman would make if she had children of her own. Then she felt ashamed at the way she had treated Quin after Grace's death. She had time to really analyze her behavior and found she had started separating herself from Quin almost immediately after Grace's funeral.

Ruth had never thought herself to be a prejudiced person, but her behavior three years ago was nothing but that. She just figured since Grace and Quin were two women that Quin wouldn't have as hard a time dealing with the loss as a heterosexual couple would. She didn't believe that their emotional attachment could be so great that Quinlan McKee would literally go off the deep end. Why was it so hard for her to accept that Grace and McKee had loved each other on the same enormous scale that she felt love for Tom? She thought on it for several days and concluded that it was simply ingrained in her mind that gay couples couldn't share the same feelings for their same sex partner as a heterosexual couple did with theirs. Once she found the flaw in her thinking she set out to correct it. She vowed she would no longer think of her gay friends as having the inability of deep lasting love. She knew for a fact, and by example, that it was untrue. She only had to think of Quin to remind herself. The doctor snapped her bag shut just as Anthony came to gather the boys up for their nap. She smiled as the youngsters put up a valiant fight, but were persuaded by the dark man that their rewards would be great if they complied.

Quin waved to the last of the kids as they exited the big kitchen and headed up the stairs. She thought about how much different the house was with children in it. It felt alive and vibrant. She hoped it would last for a while longer.

"So you never answered me?" Ruth said as she eased into a chair across from McKee.

"I believe him." Quin said with a soft nod of her head in agreement with her own words. "But it doesn't simplify our task. And it gives us another job to do."

Justin Downs had told his sad and often emotional story for several hours. He had himself been abducted at a young age. So young that he didn't remember his parents at all after a while, although he held onto the fact that he had parents out there somewhere, and that they would one day come for him. He still ‘performed' for his current ‘owner', but had a certain amount of freedom. But that freedom came with a price of its own. He was often sent to stake out possible procurements. He would watch children for several days, find their routines, and designate the best time to grab them with the least amount of risk to the party who was taking them. He didn't know who would pick the child up, or who would make the sale afterward. He did know the address of his current owner, and his last name. Other than that, he was grateful that he was away from the man, and that he and his girlfriend were safe. He offered any help he could in finding the people responsible for Scott Peers abduction.

"We'll go through missing person's reports from fifteen or so years ago, see if we can get a hit on Justin." Quin had stopped using the man's last name after finding out it was what was given to him by one of his owners. He couldn't remember his real last name, and he wasn't even sure if his first name was Justin.

"Is there a chance you'll find them." Ruth rubbed her belly with both her hands.

Quin watched the redheads hands glide over her extended abdomen. The thoughtful gaze didn't go unnoticed by the doctor. "Won't be long now huh?"

Ruth smiled softly, "Nope, soon number six will be here. I told Tom I was calling it quits."

Quin snorted, "That's what you said after number four." She tentatively reached out her hand to touch Ruth's belly. Her hand was taken and guided to lay flat against the soft cotton t-shirt that covered Ruth.

"This time I mean it."

Quin moved her hand over the taut surface. A smile that expressed her awe of the life that Ruth carried covered her face. Suddenly the doctor gasped and there was the sound of water trickling on to the wood floor. "What did I do?" Quin questioned.

"My water just broke…"

"Oh shit!" Quin jumped up only to be held in place.

"Quin, it's okay. Just go fetch Tom, and maybe loan me a towel or two." She released her hold on the small woman who ran off to do her bidding. Ruth rubbed her belly again, "Okay Ross number six, keep it cool in there; everything's gonna be fine."

Vivian approached the glass window and purposefully pressed closer than she should to the back of Quin as she peered over the smaller woman's shoulder at the newest addition to the Ross family. The brunette's body heat warmed through her clothes and she sighed. "She looks like she's had a tough day."

"It's hard work coming into the world." Quin replied and leaned slightly back into the solid body behind her. "How's Ruth?"

"Exhausted."

"Hmmm," Quin turned and leaned against the low wall and window, the tall detective seemed to press even closer, "Are we having personal space issues?" Long arms came down on either side of her hips grabbing hold of the rail there.

"Nope… you?" Vivian scooted forward and parted Quin's legs with one of her own. She leaned down and brushed her cheek on top of the dark head, smiling when she felt Quin's fingers hook into her belt loops on her jeans.

"No…. It's nice." Quin closed her eyes and let the warmth spread through her. She felt safe — almost unburdened. It was a different feeling for her in the arms of another. Not to say Grace was a needy woman who always required comfort. Quite to the contrary she was a strong-minded, strong willed woman. But Quin was often left to deal with the tough stuff; she called it crisis control. She got the feeling that Vivian was just as good at crisis control as she was. It would be nice to have someone else deal with life's unexpected.

"Dinner?"

"Hmmm?" Quin half sighed as she nuzzled Vivian's warm cleavage.

"Dinner. I owe you dinner. How about tonight?" Vivian asked.

"Tonight?" Quin's cell phone beeped and she reluctantly let go of Vivian's belt loops to check it. After checking the phone's display, she asked "I um, need to make a call, walk with me out side?"

Vivian nodded taking one last look at the newest Ross then turned and joined Quin down the carpeted hall. A couple turns found them outside a set of double doors. Vivian stepped back to give the smaller woman some privacy as Quin covered one ear to ward off the blaring hospital intercom system. She listened to the one sided conversation, her smile fading to a frown as her planned evening unraveled.

Quin cursed silently as she listened to the woman's dilemma on the phone. Normally it wouldn't be a big deal to handle the request, but it was bad timing. She wanted to go to dinner with Vivian.

Vivian watched Quin's reflection in the glass door. She wasn't sure but she thought she saw a slight pout on the brunette's face. There were a few more words exchanged by the PI and the other person on the phone. Soon Quin was once again standing beside the detective.

"Trouble?" Vivian asked.

"Well…" the brunette shrugged, "kind of." There was a moment of silence between the women, and then Quin turned to the blonde with a smile, "Do you like greasy spoon fare?"

"This isn't exactly what I had in mind." Vivian mumbled across the small square table that sat in a dark corner at a very old Los Angeles diner. She watched as Quin scanned the room once again — those gray eyes taking in every detail. She tried to figure out what exactly the smaller woman was looking for. Her eyes landed on a scraggly looking character that had just sat at the counter. The man struck up an animated conversation with the waitress poised to take his order. The waitress shook her head and looked up and over at their table, which when Vivian looked, she was the only occupant. It took her a moment to locate the brunette as the PI made her way to the diner's counter to stand behind the man Vivian had just been watching. Quin leaned down and said something in the man's ear. Whatever she said didn't sit well as the much larger man suddenly stood and landed a square fist in Quin's face, ending the PI on the floor stunned. It only took Vivian seconds to un-holster her gun and make her way across the short distance to press the weapon against the man's back as he leaned down to take another go at Quin.

"I wouldn't if I were you." Vivian said evenly, she looked down at Quin who was regaining her feet, "You alright McKee?"

Quin shook her head slightly, "I must be losing my edge."

"You had one?" Vivian joked as she took hold of the man's arm.

"Funny." Quin wiped away a trickle of blood from her nose with a damp towel the waitress pressed into her hand then looked up at the man, "Help me get him out back." She motioned with her head as she walked towards the double swinging doors that led to the kitchen. It was a straight shot through the kitchen to another door that led to an alley.

Vivian pressed the man against the rough stucco wall of the building, "What now?"

Quin looked up and down the alley then at the man. In a blink of an eye she landed a solid punch to the man's stomach. "Whom do you work for?"

Vivian's mouth dropped open, "You can't do that." She protested as Quin landed a second punch.

Quin turned to look at the detective, "Let him press charges if he wants for assault." She grabbed the man and stood him up straight against the wall. "This woman," she jerked a thumb at Vivian, "is a police officer. Would you like to have her arrest me?"

The man shook his head no then regained his breath, "I work for Verccetti. He's not gonna like you roughing me up."

McKee let a thin smile cross her lips, "Oh I don't know. He may like it well enough." Headlights lit up the alley as a large black car came around the corner. It came to a stop a few yards from where she stood. A click and a solid thump followed by the confident foot steps of a man made the smile turn almost sinister. "Let's ask him shall we?"

The blonde detective felt as though she had fallen into a 1930's gangster movie as the cities most notorious mafia boss came to stop beside Quin.

"This had better be good McKee." Dorian Verccetti looked every bit the part of a mafia boss, from his thousand-dollar suit to his solid mahogany walking stick.

"Is this yours?" Quin asked as she pulled the now cowering man into the dim alley light.

Verccetti lifted the man's chin with the end of his cane, "Never seen him before." He motioned with his head at Vivian, "Don't know her either."

Vivian stepped forward and pulled her jacket back to reveal her badge, "Detective Walsh, L.A.P.D."

"You brought a cop to help you McKee? You must be slipping." The man chuckled. "Speaking of cops…"

"Don't" Quin cut the gangster off. "Let's keep on track here. This guy…" Quin jerked the man forward again, "has been hustling protection money in your name. Otherwise we have nothing to discuss."

Verccetti regarded the man, then the tall blonde detective. He knew that he was unable to handle the situation as he liked to in front of the cop. He approached the now visibly shaking man and leaned in to whisper into his ear.

Vivian had no idea what the threat was, although she was certain there was a threat as the man paled and look as though he might fall over any moment if it weren't for McKee holding him up.

The gangster straightened after his words of discouragement to the two-bit hood. He reached forward and patted the man's cheek with a leather gloved hand. "Now leave here and be very careful of what you do or say in the future. Next time there won't be anyone to curtail my baser urges." He winked at the tall detective.

Quin let lose her hold on the man who stumbled backwards falling on his rear, but quickly recovered, running down the alley as if the devil himself were after him.

"He won't be bothering anyone again. Not around here anyway." Verccetti stated as he adjusted his gloves, "Thanks for the heads up McKee."

"I didn't do it for you." Quin said as she moved passed the gangster to stand beside Vivian.

"Of course not. Still championing the common citizen, I wouldn't expect anything else. I was surprised to get a summons from you. Last I heard you had a melt down and went home to Chicago." Verccetti approached his car. Another well dressed, well built man opened the car door for him. He stopped just short of entering the car, "I'd like to say it's nice to have you back, but we both know what a terrible liar I am." A pressed smile crossed the man's lips, "I would like to say that I'm sorry about Grace. She was a good cop, a no bullshit cop. No matter how much I offered her she couldn't be bought." Then with a leer in Vivian's direction he added, "Perhaps we might do some business Detective. You scratch my back I scratch yours?"

"I don't think so Mr. Verccetti." The blonde stated seriously brokering no argument with her tone.

The gangster shrugged, "Never hurts to ask." He lifted his cane to his forehead and gave a small salute, "Good evening ladies." He then ducked into the car followed by the second man.

Quin and Vivian watched as the auto disappeared around the alley corner. Just as Quin turned to reenter the restaurant Vivian grabbed her shoulder and pinned her to the wall.

"Who in the hell do you think you are? You can't beat people up to get answers! At least you could have warned me of who we would be meeting in a dark alley. Christ McKee, that man is on the federal most wanted list." The detective pumped her finger in the direction the car had disappeared. "Don't ever pull anything like this again in front of me. I will arrest you!"

"You do what you must Detective Walsh; just as I'll continue to do what I must. What was this owner suppose to do? She was warned not to call the police. Her husband was beat to a fucking pulp last week because she was ten bucks short on the protection money." Quin threw her head toward the restaurant, "What the hell do you think that hood and his friends would do if they called the cops?" The brunette jerked free from Vivian's hold, "Keeping up appearances is a dangerous game."

Vivian watched as the smaller woman paced back and forth. She knew what Quin said was true. In order for the wannabe cons to go smoothly they had to carry through with threats of violence; they had to make their victims believe they were dealing with Dorian Verccetti and his army of thugs. So when the business owners they were blackmailing were short or went as far as calling the police there was going to be bloodshed.

"I'm the next best thing to the cops." Quin poked herself in the chest as she stopped in front of Vivian. "I do things my way and hopefully everything works out like tonight. I operate outside of the law Vivian. I was wrong to involve you, and it won't happen again. I'll take you home." She stepped back into the restaurant's kitchen.

"Wait!" Vivian called out and was relieved when the departing woman stopped. "Is that it?"

Quin shook her head and turned back to face the blonde, "I'm not going to change Vivian. This is me." She held out her arms, "Like Verccetti said, I'm for the common citizen. Our jobs aren't that different. I just don't have as many rules as you do."

"Fine." Vivian nodded her head once and pushed through the door "Let's eat." She said in passing as she disappeared into the kitchen.

Quin stood for just a moment wondering what exactly "fine" meant. Was it a final statement of acceptance? Or was it a final statement of dismissal. She pursed her lips in a thin line as she followed the blonde back to their table. The food they had ordered earlier was waiting for them.

Vivian slid into the booth and sniffed at her pot roast. She decided she was just going to go with the flow that was Quinlan McKee. There seemed little use in fighting it. She would bide her time with the brunette, and hopefully somewhere down the road she might get a glimpse of the whole woman who took the seat across from her. Vivian knew she was falling in love hard. Everything about the woman seemed to be enigmatic, and that seemed to act as an aphrodisiac for Vivian. Quinlan McKee was the great unknown, and the blonde detective wanted to be the one person in the world who had an understanding of that force.

Quin picked up her fork and poked at her own pot roast. She looked up for some clue from the blonde about their status. She watched as Vivian took a small taste of her meal then casually added a bit of salt and pepper to the mix. Another bite, a bit bigger than the first, disappeared. Then an appreciative smile crossed the taller woman's lips as she pointed her fork at Quin.

"This…" she pointed the fork at her plate, "is fantastic." Vivian looked closely at the woman across from her. The sharp gray eyes from earlier were gone. In their place were the panicked eyes of a person desperately trying to find answers without asking questions. Now Vivian's shoulders slumped. "Quin." The eyes rounded a bit in recognition of the name, "Don't worry. Eat your dinner."

McKee gave a small nod of acceptance and began to eat earnestly.

"Of course," the blonde said in between bites, "I've not had a very good time tonight and will require a replacement date." The dark head across from her tilted at the last word. "I'll make the arrangements." Vivian concluded with a sweet smile.

The bit of roast in McKee's mouth seemed to fight its way down her throat. The word ‘date' echoed through her mind.

PART 7

QUANG NGO SHRUGGED his shoulders. Rivulets of rainwater slid down his neck as he adjusted the collar on his raincoat. "Fuck." He shivered as the wind picked up causing his pant legs to ruffle in its wake. Quang looked across the street at the building he had been watching for the last three hours. "Of all the gods be damned days to rain" he mumbled as his hand swiped away the moisture form his face.

It was one of those mornings. Nothing went right. Child protective services showed up at seven am. They marched through the house like the Gestapo, questioning children and adults alike. It didn't help that McKee was in pissy mood from the word ‘go'. How the hell did she get the damn black eye to begin with? Quang thought as he replayed the CPS' investigators questions to his employer. He wondered why the woman was so defensive about everything. The CPS people left all pissed off, promising to return.

"Soon, and we hope for better cooperation next time." The unyielding woman had said as she stepped off the porch. Quang and Anthony had flipped the proverbial bird at the same time to the woman's retreating back as she marched to her car at the curb. They turned to re-enter the house chuckling to themselves when three police cruisers pulled up to the curb.

Quang had trained himself not to panic in such situations after being with McKee for the last four years. It wasn't that uncommon of a thing for the woman to be hauled away to be questioned by the local authorities. She didn't exactly play by the rules. Quin had been cuffed and thrown into the back of a police cruiser, not without putting up a noble fight, and not until she had told Quang what he would be doing on this not so lovely Southern Californian day. It took some doing to calm down the kids and the nanny. Not to mention Justin Downs, who Quang found hiding in a cabinet in the kitchen, it took two valium and his girlfriend literally tying him down to get the young man to even listen enough to convince he was safe.

The Asian man shook his head sending a spray of water off his spiky hair. He checked his watch and growled. "Where the hell is McKee!"

Quin had been pulled from a crowded holding cell just twenty minutes earlier and placed in a dingy yellow room. She rolled her shoulders to relieve the ache from having been handcuffed for the last four hours. It was the same game she always played with the local cops. They didn't like her, and she didn't much care for them. Well except for maybe two. And one of those two scared her to death in the most pleasant of ways. Quin looked up to catch herself ginning at that thought in the mirror opposite her. The grin faded as she looked at herself. Her face was bruised from last night, and a new split lip from the morning encounter with the boys in blue was prevalent. "I look like shit." She said to herself wincing a bit as she spoke and the swollen skin on her lip pulled painfully.

The door creaked open and a large pear shaped man shuffled through followed by a severe looking woman. The woman remained standing while the man sat on a wood chair that strained under the sudden burden it was expected to hold.

"McKee." The voice was pitched high with just a bit of a wheeze. It didn't sound like it should come from the man opposite her.

Quin looked disinterested as she once again moved her shoulders to ease the discomfort. A photo was slid in front of her.

"Do you know this man?"

She fought back the urge to mimic the man as she leaned forward to look at the fuzzy Polaroid. "Yup."

A long manicured finger tapped the photo. "Did he look like this when you last saw him?" The woman detective asked.

Quin narrowed her eyes at the photo. "Pretty much" she nodded to herself, and then let her eyes travel up the arm extended in front of her to gaze thoughtfully at the woman it belonged to, "except for the gaping hole in his head." She added with a sweet smile and a penetrating gaze that produced a pronounced blush on the other woman.

The man cleared his throat breaking the spell Quin had woven. "I'll take it from here Maggie."

Quin let the neutral mask fall once again as the flustered woman retreated from the side of the table to lean against the door. "You never were much fun Franklin." She said drolly, looking past the man and once again into the mirror behind him.

"And you're still an asshole."

"Well my Pop always said, ‘find one thing you're good at and stick to it.'" A soft rap sounded on the mirror from the other side causing Quin's reflection to shake.

"You know we're running ballistics on your gun."

"Annnnd?"

"You might as well confess…"

McKee started to chuckle, "You're really not thinking that I'm going to confess to shooting this guy do you?"

"When the ballistic report comes back…."

"You'll have squat!" Quin snarled.

Franklin leaned forward making the wooden chair creak under him, "Oh yeah smart ass? You were reported as being the last to be seen with him, the slug taken from his body was a .45. You're notorious for carrying a .45. You admit you know him…" This time a knock came to the door of the small room. The woman detective stepped aside to open it.

"Turn her lose." A familiar voice said firmly.

A grin pulled painfully at Quin's lips as a piece of paper floated down on top of the table in front of Franklin.

"Ballistics doesn't match." Vivian said as she fully entered the small room.

Franklin picked up the single sheet of paper. After a glance at the information clearing McKee's gun, he crumpled the paper in a ball and stood, sending his chair into the wall behind him. His face redden with frustration and anger as he pushed the table in front of him forward into Quin, causing the PI's chair to topple backward. The other two women in the room halted his forward progress.

"Get out of here Franklin." Maggie instructed.

Franklin noted the woman's hand at the ready on her service revolver that was at the moment still holstered. He looked from Vivian who stared him straight in the eye, back to his partner who had to look up a bit, but their hard gazes sent the same message. "Too many fucking dykes," he spat as he looked down on the brunette lying on the floor in obvious discomfort, "This is not over McKee." He pushed past the two women detectives and exited the room.

Vivian turned with a sigh and stooped down to help Maggie set Quin upright, "Having a bad day gorgeous?"

"Ugh. Hasn't been the greatest so far." Quin felt the cuffs come off her wrists and slowly moved her arms in front of her. She rubbed each wrist and flexed her fingers to get the blood moving again into her cold digits.

"Sorry McKee…"

Quin looked up at the stern looking woman, her mousy brown hair was tied back in a tight bun, and her wire rim glasses gave her a librarian appearance. "S'okay Mags can't pick your partner." She then looked to Vivian who was setting the table and Franklin's discarded chair back in place. "Thanks for coming to my rescue."

Vivian smiled as she picked up the photo and handed it to Maggie, "Just doing my job."

The brunette shrugged her shoulders and cringed at the pain the motion caused. The interrogation room door swung open again. This time a tall, solidly built, striking black man stood shaking his head at the women, "I heard Quinlan McKee was in the station, and I said to myself, ‘naaaa, can't be, that mean ass piece of shit ran off to Chicago.' Then I saw Richard Franklin toss his desk out a third story window, and I knew it was true."

Quin stood and approached the man, "His whole desk?"

Teddy Adams smiled and nodded, "The whole damn thing landed on Lieutenant Marquez's Volvo."

Quin roared with laughter causing her lip so split and bleed, "Damn." She wiped at it with the back of her hand causing herself more pain, "Christ."

"You're a walking disaster McKee," Teddy put his arm around the much smaller woman and ushered her from the room. He looked back over his shoulder at the remaining two women, "Detectives Walsh and Donner, my office, now!" He hugged Quin to him and softened his voice, "I was real sorry about Grace. I wish…"

"How are Cheryl and the girls?" Quin changed the subject.

The police Captain was silent for a moment then sighed, "Okay, off limit topic." He nodded his acceptance, "The wife and kids are fine, and Cher was just talking about you a few weeks ago."

"I always did think she was psychic. I got back a few weeks ago." Quin was guided into a stark functional office that had changed little in her three year absence. A thick dark finger pointed at a chair in a silent order to sit. As she sat in the simple vinyl chair, Vivian and Maggie entered the office.

Vivian had been quietly watching the exchange between the most feared man in the station and the PI. It was obviously a comfortable relationship and she found herself a bit jealous not to have the same connection with either of the people walking in front of her. She looked to her left at Maggie Donner who raised a bushy eyebrow at her. She could only shrug and continue on down the hall to her ordered destination. Once inside the room she stood semi rigidly in front of the much too small steel case desk. She could see McKee fidgeting in her chair out of the corner of her eye.

"I want you two to partner up." The captain said as he sat behind his desk. He picked up an unsharpened pencil and waggled it between his fingers, as was his inclination. "I gave Franklin some time off. He won't be back until he gets a psych eval, and Ross will be out for three weeks." The pencil stilled for a moment, "How's Ruth and the baby?"

Vivian blinked realizing that was a question for her, "Great… umm she comes home from the hospital later today."

The pencil started up again, "Good good, where are we on the Peer case?"

This time Vivian shifted her feet and grimaced slightly, "We've got a lead, but aren't sure if it's going to pan out." She couldn't help the sideways glance at McKee, who raised an eyebrow at her accompanied by a quick shake of her head.

Teddy sat for moment, completely still except for the waggling pencil, his eyes shifted from the tall blonde detective then back to the PI.

Quin was ready for the explosion and almost laughed at Maggie and Vivian who jumped and practically cowered away from the booming voice that came from the Captain.

"GOD. DAMN. IT." Each word was its own staccato sentence. "DO YOU MEAN TO TELL ME WE HAVE NOTHING?!" The pencil stopped it's up and down motion to be pointed directly at Quin, "And what the hell is a civilian doing working this case? I do not recall authorizing any sorry ass, beat up, piece of shit PI…"

"HEY!" Quin protested.

"SHUT UP MCKEE." The Captain shouted causing the PI to sink into her chair. "Now…" he took a deep breath, "I want something on this case by Monday. Does everyone understand me?"

Vivian and Maggie each gave a hardy, crisp, ‘yes sir'.

The Captain inclined his head toward Quin, "I don't think I heard you McKee."

The brunette swallowed, "Yes sir?"

"Fine." The man settled back into his chair, "Walsh and Donner get out of here. McKee stay."

Vivian turned and followed Maggie from the room. She silently mouthed "sorry" at Quin and received a smile and a silent "s'alright" in return.

"Are you two involved?"

Quin's head jerked back to the Captain, "That's none of your business Teddy."

"Perhaps not." The reply was spoken softly. "She's a good detective Quin, and a fine human being, which is more than I can say for eighty percent of the people in this building."

The PI shifted in her chair as she crossed her legs and leaned back, "Where do I fall?"

Teddy snorted and a grin graced his handsome features, "Right up there with the best of them Quin. I just don't want to see either of you get hurt. You didn't exactly handle losing…"

Quin turned her head and gazed at the blank wall next to her, "I'll admit that I went a little over the edge, but I'm okay now. I've been certified sane and fit by three professionals in the employ of the State of Illinois." She gave a sarcastic huff as several tears flowed over her eyelids and down her face. Everywhere she went they wanted to talk about the one thing she was desperately trying to keep stuffed away in her mind. The pain the few rushing memories caused was nearly unbearable. Quin closed her eyes and concentrated on putting them back in their place as Teddy continued to speak.

"We all loved Grace, but we all love you too Quin. We are here for you."

Quin nodded briskly and stood wiping at the tears on her cheeks with the sleeve of her shirt, "I need to go Teddy… Umm I'll give you a call okay?" She forced a smile and a small wave to the man behind the desk and exited the room. She left the building without even glancing at another person on her way out, and nearly sprinted to the corner. She looked frantically in the four possible directions she could take. Her legs carried her across the street, narrowly dodging cars as they passed her. Her destination was set in her mind as rain dripped from her hair and down her face mingling with her tears.

Vivian cocked her head to the side. There was an insistent cell phone ringing near by and no one seemed to be answering it. It was becoming quite annoying and she decided to put an end to it. Using her superior detective skills she hunted the little device down. The ringing stopped as she neared the blank space that had once been occupied by Richard Franklin's desk. There was a loose pile of papers and odd envelopes that had been hurriedly pushed against the wall in order to prevent any tripping accidents as officers and detectives rushed about the room in pursuit of justice.

The tall blonde stood still, her eyes narrowed at the pile. Her instincts told her the phone was there amongst the debris of Franklin's meltdown. The ringing started again and a sly grin crept to Vivian's lips. Three small steps and the shuffling of paper produced a large manila envelope. A single word was hastily scrawled across the front.

McKee.

The detective manipulated the small fastener at the top and reached into the envelope. Her hand emerged containing the small phone she had seen on numerous occasions with its owner. She flipped the front of the phone open and pressed the small green button, then placed it next to her ear.

"For FUCKS sake McKee! Where the hell have you been? I need you to come down here, that fat cop… shit… whatshisname… you know, the one that Grace was so hot to bring down…"

Quang's voice streamed in a nonstop rush into Vivian's ear. Her brow furrowed as she spoke the name of the man Quang inquired about. "Franklin."

"That's it! Dickhead Franklin… wait, who is this?" Quang questioned as he wiped his palm across his face to clear the gathering moisture.

"Detective Walsh."

Quang fell silent for a long moment. "Is she still there?" He finally asked.

"She was with the Captain. She hasn't picked up her personal effects yet, so I'm gonna say yes, she's still here." Vivian crossed to her own desk and dumped the rest of the contents of the envelope out. She took her seat as she stared at the small heap on her blotter. "What's this about Franklin now?"

Quang pursed his lips, "I don't know Detective, McKee might be pissed…"

"We're all on the same team Quang. You can trust me; I'll tell McKee as soon as I see her." Vivian picked up the small leather wallet, a Q and a M had at one time adorned its front in gold that had long since worn away, leaving just a trace of the precious metal.

"Can I have that in writing?"

Vivian chuckled, "She's really not that bad is she?" Her thumb parted the leather revealing the inside of the wallet. The instant her eyes landed on the picture inside she felt a twinge of guilt for prying into Quin's private life. The photo of a woman was protected from daily wear and tear by plastic that was slightly fogged over from age, but there was no denying the look of love the woman beamed at the picture taker.

"On a day like this, yes." Quang looked back at the building across the street, "but I suppose it'll be alright. She seems to like you well enough."

The detective brushed her thumb over the picture, "You were a real beauty, weren't you Grace?" She said softly.

"Are you there Detective Walsh?"

Vivian shook her head and looked away from the image closing the wallet, "Spill it Quang. Where are you and what does it have to do with Franklin?"

"Storage complex on Central, and he just walked in like he owned the place with three other guys, one of which is our prime suspect."

"Justin's handler…" Vivian flipped open her notebook and turned to the last page, "David Gentry?" She read the name making a line under it and writing Franklin's name with an arrow pointed up.

"Yeppers."

"Well that is interesting. Do you know the other two guys?" Vivian doodled a hangman's noose next to Franklin's name.

"One. I think he was at Peer's office the day McKee took the case. I can't be sure."

"Jonathan Peer?"

"I'm pretty sure."

"You don't remember a name do you?" more scribbling and a flip of the paper to a new sheet followed as Vivian transcribed the information given to her.

"Tase, Chase, something along that line, McKee would know for sure." Quang wiped at his face again.

Vivian opened a drawer at her knee and retrieved a bundle of small notebooks that were rubber banded together, taking the one on top away from the rest of the stack. She opened it up near the end and scanned the pages quickly until her eyes landed on a name. "Simon Days."

"Could be. Tell McKee I'll stay here and keep watch. Ask her to call me, and tell her she owes me big time. I'm talking Makers Mark big time."

"Ummm, yeah, okay." Vivian answered distracted as she continued to write in her notebook. She pressed the little red button on the phone ending the call. Three names and a question mark stared at her from the page. She placed the cell phone and the rest of Quin's things back in the envelope securing the metal fastener at the top.

She found the Captain's office empty, and spent twenty minutes scouring the building for either McKee or Teddy Adams. She sank into her chair, throwing the envelope onto the desk. It landed with an audible thunk.

Maggie's head popped up at the noise and noticed her new partner's defeated posture. "What's up?"

"I have a message for McKee, and a lead for the Peer's case, but I can't seem to find McKee or the Captain, and Quang is probably imploding by now."

"I saw McKee leave about an hour ago. I think the Captain has left for the day, and who is Quang?" Maggie rolled her chair closer to Vivian's desk.

"An hour? Are you sure? she didn't pick up her stuff?" The blonde tapped the envelope.

"Positive. Who is Quang and why is he imploding?"

Vivian stood and pulled on her police issue windbreaker. "I'll tell you while we drive." She shoved her notebook into her pants pocket and picked up Quin's effects.

Maggie rushed to pull on her own jacket as she followed the tall detective from the room.

The alley hadn't changed much in the past three years. It was still dark, dirty, and smelled of piss and booze.

A crack pipe broke under her booted foot as she strode with purpose down the imposing passage to stand beside a light blue dumpster. The rain had let up a bit, making it easier to see. Quin however wasn't seeing the current state of the alley. She was transported back to three years prior.

Tom had called. She remembered the way his voice quivered and knew it was bad. She didn't recall the actual drive, but she did remember with vividness the scene upon arrival.

The blue and red flashing lights of the cruisers would blur into purple every so often as she passed police, firemen, and EMTs. Uniformed officers, detectives and crime scene investigators milled about everywhere as she ducked under what was just one of several yellow police line tapes that contained the area. Little orange cones sat next to brass shell casings that were circled with white chalk. She was careful not to disturb anything as she made her way towards the only person that mattered at the scene.

Grace Taylor was a tall woman. Five foot eleven in her stocking feet. She was also a curvaceous woman. There were few men or women who wouldn't take a second look as Grace walked down the street. Her long black hair had a blue hue to it in the right light and her green eyes could see right through a person. She had a crooked little grin that would creep onto her lips when she felt mischievous, and a full blown toothy smile that stopped hearts when she was truly happy — if only Quin could have been greeted by that smile that night in this dark alley.

Quin's eyes found Tom's silver head leaning over a figure on the ground. It didn't take much to realize it was Grace he was soothing. The brunette saw a bloody hand rise from the ground and clasp Tom around the neck pulling his head closer to blood stained lips.

Tom looked up after receiving that farewell kiss to see Quin striding toward them. He whispered to the woman laid prone on the ground giving a forced smile as he nodded in Quin's direction. Grace moved her head just enough to see her lover take the final few steps to be at her side.

Quin settled to her knees opposite Tom Ross, she didn't even acknowledge the man's presence. Her total focus was on Grace. She reached out a shaky hand and caressed Grace's cheek.

"Don't cry my love…"

Quin blinked at her lover's words, ‘am I crying?' She curiously wiped at her own cheek feeling the streams of moisture for herself. She looked up at the people seemingly idly standing, waiting, when it seemed to her they should be doing something to save the woman she loved. She looked at the man opposite her, "Why are they just standing there? Why aren't…"

Tom shook his head and started to speak when Grace coughed causing him to focus his attention back on his dying partner.

"If they move me, I'm done." Grace rasped.

Quin took stock of the prone woman's condition for the first time. Her dark blue, bulletproof vest was still strapped to her chest, but there were four visible indentations, each centered with a rip of nylon and shreds of Kevlar raggedly standing from nickel size holes. Quin then knew what Grace was saying. It was only the pressure of her own body on the gaping wounds that would be found on her back that was keeping her alive. It was just a matter of time however until she bled out internally.

Grace knew she was dead, but had wanted whatever time she could get to say goodbye to Quin. "I… I l-love you, ya know."

Quin nodded, blinking tears from her eyes, unwilling to take her hands from Grace's for a moment to clear her vision. "I love you too, so very much."

"I wanted forever Quin, b-but wouldn't trade what we had f-for anything." Grace's sentence trailed off softly as she spoke, her strength failing her.

Quin leaned closer to hear her as Grace spoke. Bloody lips brushed her ear.

"Thirteen children… F-Franklin… Tom… files."

Quin moved to look at her lover, but a hand held her head in place as Grace made a last request.

"Live Quin. Please, for me… l-live. Promise."

That last word was a mere breath against Quin's ear as her lover's hand fell from her head releasing her. Grace was gone. And so it seemed was Quin's very soul as she screamed in anguish as the pain of her loss slammed into her full force.

She sat with Grace's cooling body for another ten minutes until one of the paramedics talked her into letting them take care of Grace. She didn't remember getting home, and barely remembered calling Grace's family, and making the funeral arrangements. What she did remember was the outright need for justice, revenge, the need to make someone pay for her pain, for the loss of Grace, for the loss of their child. It consumed her.

The agony was too much for Quin, four months after Grace's murder she tried to kill herself but was unsuccessful. So she went after everyone she considered responsible in hopes that one of them would kill her, and then she would be free of the pain. The night she stood at Tom Ross' bedside with an empty gun she thought she had accomplished her goal. She thought for certain that Tom would pull the trigger.

But he didn't. He saw through her. She could hear Grace's soft chuckle as she walked from the Ross' house that night. "Tom knows a gimmick when he sees one Quin." Tom could smell deceit from a mile away. It was what made him a good detective. Grace had always envied him the ability, as she herself was a sucker for a good sob story. But not Tom, he knew a put-up deal when he saw one, and he knew Quin was looking for him to end it for her and debunked her attempt. It took Quin sometime to forgive him that. She eventually came to thank his decision not to pull the trigger on her. She ultimately made the promise to Grace, the promise to live.

Now here, back in that same alley where her soul had been ripped from her, she began to put the pieces back together. She replayed Grace's words for the first time since that night. She must have blocked them in her rage. Now she saw them for what they were. The clues she needed to find Grace's killer. Everything else would wait.

The rain started again in earnest, large heavy drops pounded the pavement around her and her exposed body. Quin searched for her cell phone, immediately realizing she left everything at the police station. Hell, it's probably in Lt. Marquez's Volvo with the rest of Franklin's desk. She mused as she started walking.

Franklin. Grace had spoken the man's name clearly that night. There was no doubt he didn't think much of Grace or Quin. Quin was used to such things. There was a long list of people who hated Quin. Some she hadn't even met yet. But Grace was a different story. The woman had very few enemies. Those she did have wouldn't admit to it for fear of looking bad. Quin smirked, even Franklin.

The files Grace spoke of would be at Tom Ross' house. Grace and Tom had a little make-shift office there, tucked away in the corner of the kitchen. Grace would spend part of a day off there with Tom, or even alone, working on what Grace called ‘hobby files'. These were cases long since closed due to the lack of new information. ‘Dead files', ‘Cold case files', the duo had solved and closed a half dozen of them before Grace had been murdered.

Quin lengthened her steps as she walked toward her destination. For the first time in years she felt she was close to making an end with Grace.

"There he is." Vivian pointed out her window at a huddled figure standing against a wall in the pouring rain. "Pull over Mags." Maggie curbed the car as Grace lowered the passenger side window, "Hey kid!"

Quang's head snapped in the direction of the voice that was almost drowned out by the rain. He smiled and ran to the waiting car, sliding with ease into the back seat. He pushed his hair back, squeezing the moisture out, while he looked puzzled at the occupants of the car, "Where is she?"

"We had hoped she'd be here with you." Vivian answered as she turned to take stock of the young man who resembled more of a drowned rat at the moment. "Anything new here?" She asked throwing her thumb toward the storage building across the street.

"They all left about ten minutes ago. I was hoping McKee would show up and we would break in…"

"Break in?" Maggie asked.

"Well you know… just umm take a look." Quang tried to ease the other detective.

Vivian smirked, "Quang means he would have called us first Mags, and we would have gotten a legal search warrant, while he and McKee rifled through the place. Right kid?" She narrowed her eyes at the Asian man.

"Sure, sure," Quang nodded, "I would have called you first."

"Uh huh." Vivian turned back to face forward, "Let's take him home. Maybe McKee is there, in the least Quang can get dried off and fill us in." She looked over her shoulder, "Right?"

Quang nodded vigorously sending drops of water off his head. Stuck with two cops now, gee thanks McKee. He thought as the car pulled away from the curb, its tires whooshing along the wet street. A vacation, that's what I need. No McKee, no cops, no perverts, no pressing emergencies…. Quang let the list grow in his head as the car entered the interstate.

Quin knocked solidly on the door in front of her. It took just a few moments for it to open. James, Tom's oldest stood on the other side wide eyed. "Is your dad home?"

James was frozen for a moment, then shook his head up and down, "We just sat down to eat." He didn't know if he should let the woman in or not. His mother had spent a better part of a year telling him not to even accept mail from Quinlan McKee. By the time he was fourteen he was convinced she was evil itself and that the woman before him would drag him off to a torturous death.

"Will you tell him I'm here? I'll wait here on the porch." Quin read the fear in the boys eyes and was sick with the knowledge she put that fear there herself. The door closed softly but firmly and the soft snick of the deadbolt being turned hit her soul.

Tom looked up as his son entered the dining room. He was pale and trembling. "Who was at the door?"

"Aunt…. Ummm, Quin McKee." He said softly his eyes dropping to the floor in shame at almost using the familiar title for the woman he grew up with. "She's on the porch." He said raising his eyes to judge his mother's reaction.

Ruth winced at the look James harbored on his young face. "It's okay James. Really." She was going to have to repair her children's psyches in regards to the woman she had purposefully torn to pieces in their young minds so they would hate the woman as much as she had. "Sit down to your supper." She offered with a warm smile.

Tom stood and made for the door as Ruth spoke quietly to the children. Things were so complicated as of late, and it all seemed to center on one diminutive brunette. He opened the door to a soaked McKee who stood shivering in the fall air. "Jeez, get in here Quin." He reached out and dragged the P.I. across the threshold, "Let me get a towel."

Quin watched as he bounded up the stairs, then looked about the small entryway. She glanced down and noticed she was making quite a puddle on the small tiled area. She heard Tom's heavy footfalls as he came down the stairs with several towels in hand. One he handed her, one found its way across her shoulders, and the third to the floor to soak up the growing pool of water. "I won't be staying long. I just need to know what you and Grace were working on when she was killed, not officially working on." She added the last to define the reason for the intrusion.

It took Tom a moment to process the request, but then his face showed recognition followed by a frown, then a grimace as he recalled the cold cases stored in the small alcove beside the washer and dryer in the kitchen. "Thirteen missing children."

Quin's eyes widened, "I need the files. I need her notes. I need…"

"Follow me." Tom urged as he pulled Quin along through the house.

The brunette gave an apologetic shrug toward Ruth as they passed through the dining room to the kitchen.

"I haven't even looked at the damn things since she died. I guess since no one asked for them back at the station they just sat here." He opened two louvered doors to expose a small desk.

Quin moved forward and lifted the folder from the top. A note scribed by Grace was clipped to the front, two words, ‘Franklin knows.' "I need to take these Tom." She gathered the brown files and loose pieces of paper with her lover's handwriting on them.

Tom took two steps to retrieve a plastic grocery bag. He looked back at the growing stack and doubled the bag to hold the weight.

Quin placed the items in the bag and took the handles from Tom. "I'll call you."

"Wait…"

"Tom, I remembered what she told me," Quin moved to the back door of the house, "I need to do this." She shrugged off the towel around her shoulders and handed it the older man.

Tom nodded, "If you need me, you call."

Quin simply nodded and opened the door. Tom closed the door as McKee disappeared into the rain.

PART 8

IT WAS WAY past dark as Vivian squinted out the front picture window of McKee's house. The wall clock chimed once for the half hour. "Half past ten, and still no Quinlan McKee." The blonde muttered to herself, she received a call from Tom at six saying the elusive P.I. had left his house on foot with some files. She had driven the route from Quin's to the Ross' five different ways and saw no sign of the woman. It was on her last route that Vivian had decided that she would be making some demands of the brunette when she did get home. There was no way she was going to worry over anyone this much and not have some benefits.

A soft snick from the kitchen door followed by Mike's distinctive footfalls alerted the detective that the brunette had finally come home. She made her way through the house silently in stocking feet and peaked around the corner to find the kitchen empty. She heard a soft thump of the big Labrador's tail against the wood floor and saw the soft glow of the laundry room light. Vivian silently walked to stand behind a partially undressed Quin who was uncommonly preoccupied or she knew she would have never gotten as far as she did without alerting the woman.

Quin pulled her soaked shirt over her head and let it fall to the floor with a thud. Her wet jeans were pooled around her ankles. She was chilled to the bone and was eager to get into something dry and warm. She was about to shed her bra when two hands came around her waist to clasp in the front of her resting on her stomach and a tall warm body pressed against her back. Suddenly she was quite a bit warmer even though she was just clad in panties and a bra.

"You have no idea how much trouble you are in."

Quin shivered as the words were whispered in her ear followed up by a teasing nip to her cold earlobe. It was in the back of her mind to pull away, but something stopped her. It just felt to good to be held by the blonde and she didn't want it to end. It took her a couple of tries to find her voice finally squeaking out an excuse as one of Vivian's hands moved up to rest just under her left breast, the woman's thumb traced the inside curve of her bra in the most distracting way. "I… umm, left my stuff…."

"At the station, I know. You could have called collect." Vivian placed several soft open mouth kisses along Quin's delicate neck.

A cross between a moan and a sigh escaped Quin's lips as she settled back against Vivian. "I had other things… mmmm that's nice, uhmmm… on my mind."

Vivian smiled as her thumb snuck under the edge of the black lace bra, "And now?"

"Now?" The brunette croaked as a whole different kind of moisture soaked her already wet panties while her nipple was stroked teasingly by Vivian.

"What's on your mind now sweetheart?" Vivian asked, as her fingers brushed past the elastic of the matching panties and met with soft curls she was sure were as dark as the hair on Quin's head. Sensing no resistance from the smaller woman she let her hand drop further cupping Quin's sex and giving it a firm squeeze.

"You're going to make me come." At that moment, Quin thought that she had never spoken a truer statement in her entire life as her hips surged into Vivian's hand.

"Would that be so bad?" Vivian herself was beyond aroused. She let her own hips gently move across Quin's firm backside, bending her knees slightly for the best possible contact as she continued applying pressure to Quin's mound. One of her fingers broke past the damp curls to be engulfed in slick heat.

That was all it took for Quin. That one little bit of contact sent her in a million pieces and back again as she came from another's touch, for the first time in the last three years. She shuddered as Vivian wrapped her in a tight embrace against her taller body preventing her from hitting the floor. Quin was well aware of the blonde's surging hips against her ass and pushed back to increase the contact, a few thrust more and she was supporting the detectives weight against her back as Vivian negotiated her way back from her own release.

The moments passed in silence as both women caught their breath. Vivian was the first to move as she extended a long arm and opened the dryer door producing a warm terrycloth robe. She silently removed the rest of Quin's clothes and wrapped the woman in warmth.

"Up or down?" Vivian asked taking Quin's hand.

"Up."

"You sure?"

Quin knew why Vivian was asking. Grace had been the only woman in Quin's bed, and now she was inviting Vivian there. It was like asking permission to desecrate sacred ground.

"Positive. She would have wanted it this way. Hell she probably would have picked you out herself if she could of." Quin snuggled under the long arm draped across her shoulder.

"Maybe she did." Vivian spoke softly as they climbed the stairs. She guided Quin to sit on the side of the bed, "Do you want a t-shirt?" Quin shook her head.

"I want you naked in bed." Quin said as she took off the robe and began to get under the cool covers. "Not that I have the energy to take advantage of you."

Vivian smiled softly as she shed her clothing. She joined Quin between the sheets letting a soft sigh escape as she cuddled up to the brunette's back. Her hands roamed along Quin's side. "How do your ribs feel?"

"Sore, my head is okay…" She smiled at Vivian's chuckle, "Well, as okay as it ever was, not counting any previous defects." That received a snort and a pinch. "My legs ache, and my hand seems almost normal."

"You're a walking disaster area." Vivian pronounced sleepily and placed a soft kiss between Quin's shoulder blades.

"I've just had some bad luck is all. I feel like everything is turning for the better now." The PI yawned and scooted back into Vivian's warm embrace.

"I sure hope so Quin McKee." The blonde replied and tightened her hold. "I sure hope so." She repeated in a soft whisper as sleep claimed her.

There was no "morning after" awkwardness for the two women as they snuggled together. An occasional hum followed by a contented sigh here or there were the only sounds uttered until a soft knock came at the door. Neither woman made a move to adjust their position as the door creaked open and a dark head poked inside cautiously.

Quang surveyed the room and counted two bodies in the bed, which should have surprised him after seeing his boss single for so long, but it didn't surprise him. It simply made him smile. He found that smile reflected back by the blonde woman on the bed who was crooking a finger at him to come closer. He couldn't resist the order and crept into the room as quietly as he could to stand next to the bed. McKee's back was to him as he let a broad smile cover his slim features.

"Is everything okay?" Vivian asked in a soft voice.

"Fine, fine." Quang nodded still smiling, "Is everything here copasetic?"

Vivian blushed a bit but recovered, "Very. She got in late, and soaked to the bone, and…"

"And she's awake so you can stop talking about her." Quin rasped in a sleepy voice. "Can you and Quang discuss me some other time maybe?" The brunette burrowed deeper into the covers and Vivian's cleavage.

"I was just worried about you McKee." Quang defended.

"Thanks. Now go away." Quin mumbled from her position.

Vivian laughed softly, "Go on. We'll be down later."

"Yes. Later." Quin echoed.

Quang nodded and gave a small wave to the detective as he exited the room. He went off in search of Anthony and the children. Maybe a trip to the mall this morning was in order. It would give the couple some quiet time. He would drag Justin and the girlfriend along for support. He made his plans as he padded softly down the stairs.

"Want to talk about it?" Vivian questioned as a wandering hand cupped and gently squeezed her right breast.

"You have great boobs." Quin said with a smile.

Vivian chuckled, "Thanks." The hand wandered from her breast down her side to her rear.

"And a great ass." Quin added as she squeezed the muscle.

"Glad you like it," Vivian smiled, "but you're avoiding the question."

"No. I'm distracting you."

"It's not working." Vivian said as she captured the inquisitive hand before it did go someplace distracting. "Where were you last night?"

Quin sighed and rolled onto her back, "I had a little meltdown."

"Meltdown?"

"I kind of snapped. Something the captain said to me, next thing I know I'm in the alley where it happened." Quin glanced at Vivian who looked back at her blankly. "The alley where Grace was killed." She clarified. Blonde eyebrows raised in understanding and a silent request to continue. "I kind of had a flashback thing…"

"About the night Grace was killed?"

"Exactly."

"Annnnnd?"

Quin sat up pulling the comforter with her. She turned and sat facing the still reclining detective, "I remembered." Quin closed her eyes, "I remembered everything, not like before where I was focused on her dying and the pain that caused, but everything. I remembered what she said." She reopened her eyes to gaze upon a thoughtful Vivian. "I picked up some files…" she stopped speaking as Vivian rolled over and returned with the crumpled plastic bags that held the stack of folders she had retrieved from Tom Ross the night before, "When did you…"

"Last night. I went down to put your wet clothes in the wash, I thought they might be important."

Quin smiled, "Thanks." She pulled the files free of the bags and tossed the bags on the floor, "These are the cold cases that Grace and Tom were working on when she was killed." She opened the files one at a time, lying them face open to expose photos of children. Soon the top of the bed was nearly covered with the faces of twelve smiling boys and girls. "There are thirteen files, thirteen children who went missing in a four-month period in 1985." Quin opened the last file and laid it on the top of the others.

Vivian sat up pulling her legs under her to peer at the last file Quin had open. She took a long look at the picture of a little boy, immediately recognizing the shy smile, the sandy blonde hair, and the big blue eyes. "You're kidding me."

Quin shook her head. "Nope. Justin, or should I say Christopher Justin Dawson, went missing just three days short of his fifth birthday." The brunette turned to the second page of the report and lifted a yellow sticky note from a page, "Grace has his parents down to being moved to a place outside of San Diego proper, a place called LemonHeights. I think we need to verify that." The P.I. ran her fingers over Grace's barely legible scrawling.

"I can handle that if you like." Vivian offered reaching for the note. When Quin wasn't forthcoming with handing over the small square of paper she laid her hand on the brunette's arm, "I'll give it back sweetheart. I know this must be hard on you."

Quin blinked a few times still tracing Grace's hastily written letters. She recalled the numerous times she had teased the woman about her serial killer handwriting. McKee's lips twitched into a small smile, "I'll probably have to translate it for you." She extended her hand toward Vivian, the note dangling from two of her fingers.

The blonde detective took the note and gave Quin a reassuring smile. She glanced at the note, "Its not too bad, looks a lot like Tom's writing."

"They shared many qualities. It made them a good team." The brunette tilted her head at the Vivian, "You're different though. I think you balance Tom."

Vivian was reaching for her cell phone on the nightstand as Quinn assessed her. "Balance?" she questioned as she turned back.

"Yeah, you know like yin and yang. You're all diplomatic and Tom, well Tom is more Captain Courageous."

"Captain Courageous?" Vivian laughed as she scooted to the center of the king size bed to lean against Quin, "I can't wait to call him that!" She opened her phone, pressed two buttons and held it to her ear. The resulting conversation confirmed the address and telephone number. The couple decided that they would call Christopher Dawson's parents after a while. "I've got more news." The blonde started, "Franklin was at the storage building last night with Gentry and a fellow Quang believes is working for Peers, a Simon Days."

Quin's brows drew together, "Why would Peer's personal assistant be there?" She asked herself mostly not expecting an answer from the detective. "Franklin is dirty, definitely dirty, and scared. I'm guessing that's why he had me in for the shooting of that wannabe. Gentry, well he's a done deal as far as I'm concerned. You should have no problem getting him with what Justin has already told us. Now Days is something different. Where does he fit in?"

"Could Peers be involved?" Vivian asked as she pulled a couple files toward herself and perused the information.

"No way. He was as distraught as could be. I didn't get that vibe off him. If he was involved, why would he pay me to find the kid after not getting anywhere with the locals? Nope, I believe Peers is clean. This Days guy may be connected with Gentry, or owe money or something and set the Peers deal up to pay the debt. Gentry pulled down $25,000 for Scott's sale."

"I'll run Simon Days." Vivian stated as she pushed the files off her lap and swung her legs from the bed. "What to do about the storage place?"

Quin closed and stacked the files and emerged from the bed as well, "Quang and I can handle that."

Vivian shook her head as she pulled on her pants, "No way, Quin. This has to be air tight; I have a rotten cop involved here. I can't afford mistakes."

"We'll just take a looksee. I promise to call you if we find anything extraordinary. I'd like to connect someone to the place by name so you can at least get a search warrant. Trust me I want this to hold up legally too." Quin argued as she came to stand in front of the tall blonde.

Vivian sighed, "Okay, you take the building," she held up a long finger, "but, if there is anything, and I mean anything that looks remotely like evidence I want you out of there." She pointed the digit at the brunette, "You understand McKee?"

Quin smiled and stood on tiptoes, "Perfectly." She replied with a sweet kiss to soft lips, then turned and disappeared into the bathroom.

Vivian shook her head, she decided she needed to get to work right away for a search warrant for the storage facility. She had a feeling she was going to need it. As she was pulling on her shirt a distant knock caught her attention. It was a demanding knock and from what she could tell it was coming from the front door of the house. Quin had already turned the shower on and Vivian was not keen on disturbing the woman so decided to answer the door herself. She fluffed her hair in the dresser mirror and loped down the steps. She opened the door to find an angry looking woman with two uniformed officers on the porch. "Can I help you?"

"Dorthea Lore," the woman clipped and pushed a business card into Vivian's chest as she boldly and uninvited entered the house, "CPS, I'm here to take the minor children of one, LaTisha Gordon into state custody."

Vivian looked at the business card and reached for her phone from her pocket. She waved the uniformed officers in and closed the door on the fall morning chill. She dialed the number on the card and questioned the person who answered if indeed Ms. Lore was an officer of the state. Of course she did it loud enough for the woman to hear her, and smirked as the woman's face reddened with anger. After confirming the woman's ID, Vivian looked up and down the hall and tilted her head to listen for any sign of children. She then looked at the woman who seemed to be on the verge of exploding, "I don't think they're here." She stated.

"Search the place." The woman ordered the police officers, which looked to the tall blonde for permission. "I said search the house for the children." She spoke more harshly.

Vivian shook her head, "Go ahead guys. Just be careful. The owner is in the shower upstairs and she might not appreciate being barged in on." The men nodded at her and the corporal shrugged in apology as he passed her to do the bidding of the CPS worker. "If you had called first, this would have been easier." Vivian stated as she tucked her shirt into her pants not caring if the woman watched or not. She then walked to the hall table and picked up her gold shield and clipped it to her belt, an act that didn't go unnoticed by the other woman. "Excuse me for a moment, and don't touch anything." She warned. Quang had shown her the gun safe the previous night and gave her the combination. It was touching how the man was so insistent that she store her weapon so the children wouldn't be in danger. She retrieved her gun and holster and clipped it at her hip, along with her cell phone. She still needed to get home and shower and change, but there was no way she was going to let the CPS worker push Quin around, and a sergeant detective was a good deterrent to those who wished to use their power to heap abuse on civilians. She walked back into the hall and leaned against the wall simply staring at the frumpy woman across from her.

"I'm not scared of you." Lore quipped nervously.

"That's good; no reason to be afraid." Vivian returned with an insincere smile.

Quin was ruffling her hair with a towel as she came down the stairs, a uniformed officer passed her on his way up and she had to do a double take, "What the…" She looked down at the bottom of the stairs finding her lover scowling at the familiar CPS worker from the day before, "Oh, its you again." The woman held up a sheaf of paper and shook it at McKee.

"I'm not leaving until I have the children Ms. McKee."

Quin took the papers and leafed through the legal document, "I can't believe you think they'll get better care in the foster system than here."

Lore cast a disgusting look from one woman to the other, "Your lifestyle choice is unacceptable."

"And Ms. Gordon's was better? I suppose you've already helped her arrange bail and will return the children to her just so she can get her welfare money to exchange for more drugs. You people make no sense to me." Quin pushed the papers back at the state worker, "And it's not a choice, Ms. Lore." She walked over to the detective, reclining against the wall, and placed a chaste kiss on the woman's smiling lips, then disappeared down the hall toward the kitchen.

"Disgusting." The CPS woman groused.

"Isn't it though?" Vivian smirked.

The uniformed officers returned to the foyer to report that the house did not contain any children.

"I'll wait." Dorthea Lore said as she parked her butt on the third step facing the door.

Vivian raised a blonde brow at the woman then turned to the police officers, "I'll make sure Ms. Lore gets what she's came for. I for one understand you might have better things to do. If she likes she can call for back up when the kids get back, but I doubt it will be needed." The corporal thanked the detective and instructed the CPS woman to call if she needed help, then left with what could only be described as a sigh of relief. "If you'll excuse me ma'am, I'll be back in a few." She said as she passed the woman entrenched on the stairs headed to find Quin. The kitchen was empty, but there was an unrelenting thump coming from the floor. Vivian sighed as she made her way to the basement, her new lover certainly could swing a mood, and from the aggressive beat of the blaring punk that permeated the closed in room at the bottom of the stairs that mood had turned angry and aggressive.

I say fuck authority

Silent majority

Raised by the system

Now its time to rise against them

"Lovely." The blonde muttered as she came up behind McKee who was leaned back in her chair, her head tipped back, eyes closed. Vivian slowly picked up the remote to the sound system from the corner of the desk and lowered the volume to something not quite as painful as ear boxing. Hard gray eyes popped open and stared at her. She gave her best smile, "Making a statement?" She asked in reference to the harsh lyrics as she perched on the edge of the desk.

"Those kids are going into a system that cares little or nothing about them. I just don't see why they can't stay here." Quin knew she was whining, but it wasn't fair and she liked the little people, even when they were underfoot.

"Not up to us to decide these things."

"How can you stand to work for them?" The brunette asked from her reclined position.

Vivian folded her arms in front of herself. She had a feeling this was going to be a long-running argument for the two of them if the set of Quin's jaw was any indicator of her feelings on the subject. "I do my best everyday. It's not perfect, but the law is always a work in progress. I'm a part of that evolution. I hope a positive part."

"But it doesn't work!" Quin snapped and sat up.

"And what you do does?" Vivian retorted more harshly than intended, her voice loud as the punk anthem ended and a soulful Etta James crooned against a sultry saxophone.

Quin blinked a few times and sighed, "I'm sorry."

Vivian's shoulders dropped and she stood, then taking a few small steps she came to kneel in front of Quin, "Me too." She leaned forward and gave Quin a reassuring kiss that soon became a heated exchange that had the blonde wondering how likely it would be that the CPS woman would come toddling down the stairs and be shocked to death if she were to pull the PI from the chair and had her way with the dark woman here and now. Just as she made purchase on the brunette's hips the shrill ring of Quin's cell phone tried to bring both women back to the reality of their day. "You going to answer that?" Vivian murmured against Quin's lips before another deep kiss.

"No." It was a barely audible word, spoken on a quick breath, just before Quin pressed her lips and tongue back into service. The phone continued to ring as the brunette freed Vivian's shirt from her pants and her hands splayed across the blondes back, her fingers digging into the cleft of the other woman's spine. She moved from lips, to jaw, to neck, grinning inwardly as Vivian contorted to give her more space to work. The phone ceased ringing for a few wondrously juicy moments where moans and soft gasps permeated the basement space, and then it started again.

Vivian growled at the insistent ringing, eliciting a chuckle from the woman feasting on her neck. She groped for the phone clipped to Quin's waist, finding it at the same time the PI found her earlobe and gave it a slurping wet suck that sent shivers through her entire body. She gently shook her head to move the lips on hers as she flipped the phone open and pressed it to her unoccupied ear. "McKee's phone, call back later." She panted and nearly got the phone closed when Quang's voice demanded her attention. Vivian moaned as Quin let loose her earlobe then bit her lip as the brunette pushed her shirt and bra up to expose her breast. "Not now Quang, just come home… shit." A nipple had now become Quin's new object of pursuit and the blonde struggled not to throw the phone across the room. "Twenty minutes is fine, … Oh fuck, …. Gotta go. Later." Her eyes rolled back in her head as the phone fell from her hand to land with a thud on the carpeted floor. "You're killing me." She admonished the woman who was now attacking her other breast. Vivian fumbled with Quin's jeans finally realizing the reason she couldn't find a zipper was because there were only buttons. She pulled and smiled at the satisfying, ‘pop' ‘pop' ‘pop' ‘pop'. "Lift."

The command barely registered with Quin, but a demanding tug at her jeans and a second command caused her to release Vivian's breast and lean back in her chair so the kneeling woman could peel the denim off.

"We don't have much time." Vivian said as she ran her hands up the insides of Quin's thighs. She winked at the other woman, "but I think we can manage." She gently pushed the brunette back down as she began to rise, "Stay." She once again ran her hands from Quin's knees up the inside of her thigh, turning then as she went so her hands rested on the top of each tanned leg, her thumbs running back and forth along the crease where leg met torso. "Take off your shirt." She quietly requested and licked her lips as Quin complied. Now the smaller woman lay nude before her, reclined back in the leather chair as far as possible without being totally horizontal. Quin's hands clutched the narrow armrests, her knuckles white with the effort to abide by Vivian's command. "You're truly beautiful, Quin McKee."

Quin felt herself blush hotly at Vivian's words. She'd hardly call herself beautiful, not with as many scars as she carried on her body.

Vivian smiled softly and leaned forward to place several soft, open mouthed kisses on Quin's thigh, relishing the play of the strong muscles under her lips. She placed a brief kiss upon damp, dark curls, and looked up into heavy, gray eyes. She watched Quin's face as she smoothly slid two long fingers inside her lover. A long moan from herself mingled with Quin's own sound of fulfillment to create a resonance of want and need. She rose up and leaned forward to cover the smaller body underneath her, praying the chair was as sturdy as it looked. She wanted to kiss Quin's slightly opened mouth, and found the journey to complete this want to be wonderfully erotic as her clothed body slid up the brunette's nude length. She finally reached her destination, one arm supporting her self on one arm rest, her hand just inside Quin's elbow, while the other hand was lost in wet heat and velvet walls. She felt Quin's hand latch onto her lower arm as she steadied herself on the chair, and leverage herself between the other woman's thighs. It was not a soft coupling. It was hard and fast, sweaty and noisy. It was quite possible the most delicious thing Vivian had ever done with another person in her entire life.

Quin was lost to the world. There was nothing but Vivian and what Vivian was doing to her. She whispered the other woman's name in a shudder of desire. She could feel everything, hear everything, taste and smell everything. Her vision was blurred one moment and then in complete focus the next as deep sapphire eyes locked onto hers. There she wished to be lost forever in that unwavering gaze. Their breaths came as one, sharing the air between them. Then like the proverbial tidal wave her pleasure peaked; her eyes closed and bliss settled over Quin like a blanket on a cold Chicago night by the lake. It engulfed her, leaving her shaking, weak and vulnerable. She came back to look in to her safe harbor, those blue eyes conveying thousands of things at once. Her body wasn't willing to let go of Vivian just yet and she mewed her displeasure as the blonde began to withdrawal from her. She moved her left hand and stopped Vivian from any further action with a firm squeeze to her right arm. "Stay." She again quaked as the detective repositioned her fingers with a proud little smile.

Vivian regained her breath, her arms cramping from the awkward position, but held fast regardless to discomfort. She felt Quin's grip lessen then a small pat on her arm, she took that as an indication to move and with a sigh she left the confines of Quin's body. She sunk back to her knees and hugged the brunette to her trying to convey her overwhelming emotions in a crushing embrace. She caught herself sniffling and felt the track of a tear on her face. She felt Quin's lips move against the skin of her chest and heard a small ramble of words but wasn't able to make them out, "What was that?"

Quin lifted her head from her place of comfort and smiled as she repeated, "Maybe next time we'll actually do this in a bed." She noticed the line of moisture on her lover's cheek and reached up to brush it away, "Are you okay?"

Vivian nodded and sniffled again, "Just can't believe I feel like this about anyone, I was always told about it, always read about, you know…" Vivian let her sentence drift off not willing to take the step to put words to the emotion.

Quin nodded understanding, but not ready to say the words yet either. "We should um…"

"Clean up," Vivian supplied, "the kids will be here soon."

PART 9

QUIN SAT ON the top step that led to the large concrete porch of her house, the Fall air was cool but not cold, a soft breeze blew from the west bringing with it the ever present Pacific Ocean's wet chill that settled in her battered joints. She reflected on the last twenty four hours. So much had happened. She had done the one thing she swore she would never do again. She found love and fallen hard. She wasn't anywhere near letting Vivian know how deep she was, mostly because she was afraid of jinxing it. She was still tender from the loss of Grace. She was still coming to terms with a great deal of things in her life. Quin sighed and looked toward the sky. She was in love. The question that parked in her mind was whether or not Vivian returned that love. There was so much that they didn't know about each other. So much to learn about each other. The brunette scuffed her boot on the edge of the step. Time enough ahead to figure it out Quin she thought to herself. She sighed and stood, her knees and hips giving her sharp reminders not to sit in one place too long.

The children had been efficiently whisked away by the CPS woman without any incident, much to Quin's disappointment. There was work to be done and the day was slipping away. Vivian had already left, but not before informing Justin that they had located his parents. Quin could still almost feel the crushing hug the young man had bestowed upon her after he had timidly called the number provided to him, from the sounds of the call there was to be a happy reunion this evening here at her house. She couldn't stop herself from letting a few tears fall as the man cried openly against his girlfriend's shoulder. The brunette walked into the parlor where Justin laid asleep in his lover's lap. The redhead's fingers brushed rhythmically through the thick blonde locks of the emotionally exhausted man. "Is he okay?" Quin questioned. The file of his missing person case was tightly clutched to Justin's chest as he slept.

The redhead nodded and lifted green eyes to Quin, "Yeah, just a lot to take in I think. He'd pretty much given up hope of finding them."

Quin nodded in understanding. She turned and almost made it into the kitchen when she heard a soft noise from the woman on the couch. She stopped in the doorway, the large wood door partially swung open, "Excuse me?" She asked.

"Julie, my name is Julie ya know," a slight shrug, "Just in case you might want to talk sometime; I'm great at listening." A soft smile graced the freckled face accompanied by a small factual nod.

Quin's depressed mask lifted for a moment, as she was helpless to prevent an answering smile for the young woman and a small nod of her own in acceptance of the offer. She felt much lighter as she entered the kitchen. The oak door whooshed softly after her making just enough noise to alert the two gloomy men sitting at table, both in similar positions, with heads lulling on open palmed hands. Quang and Anthony looked every bit depressed as she felt. She passed them by without a word to the gun safe expecting to get her spare, but was pleasantly surprised to find her faithful waiting for her. "Who brought my gun?" She asked to no one in particular but got an answer from Anthony.

"That cop named Maggie dropped it off early this morning."

Quin's thin black brow raised at the emphasis on the word ‘cop'. She closed the safe's door and snuggled the gun into her holster at the small of her back. She emerged from the short hallway to find Quang childishly pushing Anthony in the shoulder with a scowl on his slim features. There was something amiss between the two quick friends; she would have to figure it out later. For now there was work to do. She stopped at the table and waited for the pushing game to end, "And here I thought I was going to miss the children; you two will make fine substitutes." She finally uttered and was rewarded with looks of innocence that made her laugh.

"Does Anthony have to move?" Quang asked pleadingly.

"Oh." Quin pursed her lips in thought. Since there were no kids there was little need for a nanny, but Anthony had filled more than just the role of child caretaker in the household over the last four weeks. He was an excellent cook, and kept the house impeccably clean between the children's playtimes. Then there was the fact that she genuinely liked the man and his soft spoken insights and backhanded advice. They could certainly use a keeper about the large house. She sat at the table and leaned forward leaning her forearms against the edge and folding her hands in front of her chest, "Would you," she asked the man in question letting her eyes contact and hold his dark brown orbs, "consider a slight modification to your duties?"

Anthony tilted his head at her, "What kind of modifications?"

"Well for one there will be no children, except," she indicated Quang with a small toss of her head, "the adult kind." The Asian man frowned at this causing both Anthony and herself to chuckle, "The rest will be like head of household stuff: you know cook and clean. If you need to hire someone for either of those we can do that. Answer mail; take care of repairs; pay bills…." her mind conjured up the stack on the counter behind her, "I'll make sure you have everything you need." She breathed small shallow breaths hoping the offer wasn't below the man or that she insulted him in anyway.

"Like a butler?" Quang asked with disgust.

Quin quickly shook her head, "No, no, no, not a butler, more like an assistant to me. You would manage the household. Your pay would increase of course…."

"You'll pay me to run the house." Anthony considered, "And I can hire staff?" he asked looking out at the long neglected garden.

"Within reason." Quin added.

The young black man considered for a moment longer, "Alright." He answered finally.

Quin graced the two men at the table with a rare genuine smile, "Wonderful." She let the men have their congratulatory moment before clearing her throat, "Now to business. Quang and I have a little job to do at a storage facility." She stood and adjusted the gun at her back in nervous habit, "Anthony, please lock the doors after we leave. Let no one in, not even the police. If police do show up, call the sheriff's department and wait for them to get here before letting anyone in. Do not take chances." She warned with a stern glare and a stiff finger poke to Anthony's solid chest.

"Lock the doors. Don't let anyone in without the sheriff, and don't take chances. Got it." Anthony gave her a thumb's up and a nervous smile.

"You'll do fine." Quang offered with a solid thump to his friends shoulder.

It wasn't a far drive to the storage building, but it was turning out to be a long drive. The big white Chevy sat idling between exits on Interstate 10. There seemed to be an over-turned semi ahead and no one was going to be going anywhere until it was righted and dragged from the freeway. Quin looked over at her brooding friend who was mumbling to himself. "Are you going to follow up on Lacey?" The PI hoped that Quang would take a further interest in his daughter's welfare.

"I called a lawyer after the kids were taken away. I meet with her tomorrow in the morning, so this had better go smooth today. I don't want to look like a flake and not show up." He poked a thin finger into Quin's shoulder.

"Piece of cake." Quin spoke as she freed a cigarette from a small white and red box. She placed the unfiltered stick of tobacco between her lips and patted her pockets for a light. It really wasn't a piece of cake. It was a complicated, dangerous, and potentially fatal game they would be playing. Quin thought as she gave up on finding a match from her pockets and pressed the cars trusty lighter into the dash. She glanced back at Quang who had turned to stare out the window; he still mumbled to himself, as was his habit under stress. The car's lighter ejected slightly indicating that it was ready to use. She grabbed it and cupped it to her cigarette. The nicotine patches had been ditched a week ago in favor of the traditional delivery method. She took a healthy drag and rolled her window down, exhaling the smoke toward the opening to let the cool wind carry it off to mingle with the rest of LA's pollutants. They had talked about the lay of the land at the storage building. Quang would watch the front door while Quin did the breaking and entering. They both had their two way radios, and Quang had his cell phone handy to call Vivian if anything went wrong before the preset time when the police detective would show up with a probable cause warrant. That is if she was successful in getting the paper signed by a judge on short notice. The car behind her honked and Quin looked up noticing that there was a fifteen foot space open between her bumper and the next car in front of her. She waved out the window, cigarette in hand, setting the ashes free to scatter on the wind and on the concrete road beneath her. She took her foot off the brake and let the car roll forward. Two more cigarettes and they were exiting the freeway.

Vivian typed yet another warrant request. The first two hadn't passed the Captains approval to go onto a judge, so she sat pecking at the computer keyboard wondering when someone would invent a logical alternative so she could find the damn ‘C' without blowing a blood vessel. Tom usually wrote up the warrant requests. He had way more experience and knew exactly what to put down to get a judge to sign on the little black line.

"Need help?"

Vivian looked over at her new partner, "Can you write a warrant?"

"Sure, no problem. What's it for? The storage place?" Maggie rolled her chair over to Vivian's desk nudging the older woman over and taking command of the keyboard.

"Yeah. I really need it signed by five." The blonde felt relief wash over her as Maggie's fingers flew across the keyboard filling out the endless fields of required information.

"Why by five?"

Quin tilted her head at the cipher lock on the entry door to the storage building. Five silver buttons confronted her. She knew about the cipher lock before arriving and had done a bit of research on Franklin, who she knew had a code for the lock to gain entrance. She checked her watch as she tried the first plausible combination of numbers. It was twenty before five, not as much time as she wanted. The delay on the freeway was costly. The first combination failed, so she tried the second grouping. She was losing patience as she keyed in another set of numbers. What followed after that attempt failed could only be described as a tantrum, as the PI kicked and pummeled the steel door with her fist while weaving a torrent of obscenities.

"Christ already Quin! People are staring."

Quang's voice pierced her tirade through her earpiece. "Fuck!" She hit the door one more time and smiled menacingly at a little old lady walking her little blue dog. She reached into her front pocket and retrieved the crumpled piece of paper that had more number combinations scrawled upon it. She scanned the list, her eyes resting on the very last group of digits. She pushed the little silver buttons deliberately and slowly, when the soft snick of the lock being released sounded she smiled, "Asshole uses his badge number." She muttered as she opened the door, "Okay I'm in. Let me know if anyone comes in behind me. If Franklin shows up, get the fuck out of here. Understand Quang?" She spoke just loud enough that the sensitive mike would pick up her words.

"Got it boss, and you be careful."

"I'm always careful." A snort of laughter filled her ear in response, "Asshole." I've just had a string of bad luck is all, she thought to herself as she made her way down the first hallway. Bright orange doors broke up the white cinderblock walls, there were six doors on each side of the hall, there didn't seem to be anything odd about the first floor, the air was a bit stale, but other than that everything seemed normal enough. She picked a few of the locks and took a look inside the storage units. She found normal stuff, boxes, furniture and what not, nothing extraordinary, so she decided to go up to the second floor. A quick glance at her watch told her she had just five minutes until Vivian would be showing up. She took the metal grated steps two at a time, her boots sounding like a rubber mallet against a metal garbage can echoing off the cinderblock walls. There was another door at the top of the steps. It also had a cipher lock. She entered Franklin's badge number again hoping he was the creature of habit that he appeared to be. She gave an almost silent sigh of relief as the lock opened and the door swung in. The air on the second floor was very different from the air on the first floor. There was the strong smell of bleach trying to cover up an even more overpowering smell of urine and feces, just under that was the smell of electricity and about fifty of those pop up room deodorizers. It was mostly dark on the second floor, but the soft glow of a bank of monitors lit the second floor landing. Quin eased in and drew her gun from behind her. She sensed she wasn't alone even though there was no one in sight. Her eyes were slow to adjust to the low lighting, the dark corners of the room remaining inaccessible. She edged closer to the monitors and saw views of the front and back of the building as well as the interior. She had been under surveillance since she walked up to the front door. Her eyes shut and the gun came up across her chest, "Quang, get the hell out of here. They know I'm inside." Just as she finished the short sentence she noticed a car pull up directly in front of the building, Franklin's bulky body emerged from the passenger side. He and the driver walked out of the cameras view.

McKee frantically searched the little screens finding the two men again as they approached her Chevelle. "Quang?" it came out a strained whisper, there was just a soft static in her ear that faded to nothing as she saw both men raise stiff arms at the window of her car. The angle of the camera prevented her from seeing if her friend had escaped. She could only watch in silence as the men's arms jerked up from the recoil of their guns being fired and tiny sparkles of shattered glass flew this way and that as they glimmered against the street lights and the setting sun. The PI spun to make for the door when something heavy came down on her back. She stumbled forward into the door, rolling to the left just before the person wielding a fire extinguisher could get a second hit on her. She raised her gun into the face of her assailant. The woman raised the extinguisher over her head. "Put it down." Quin growled low in her chest cocking the hammer on her gun for emphasis. The woman lowered the canister to the floor and took two steps backward. Quin kicked the fire extinguisher away.

"Master Franklin knows you are here." The woman spoke calmly.

Quin didn't reply to the statement. She held her gun steady on the young woman as she let her peripheral vision look about the room. She side-stepped so she could glance down a hall that seemed to have a four way intersection about half way and a window at the far end opposite her. She threw her head toward the hall, "What's down there?"

"Master Franklin…"

Quin moved forward quickly and pressed the gun against the woman's temple, "What is down the hall?" she questioned heatedly.

"Cells."

"For… whom?" Quin already knew the answer, but it seemed she needed some kind of verification to actually understand the possibility of it.

"New slaves." The answer was followed by a small ‘pop'.

McKee knew what the stinging sensation was before she hit the ground. The bullet ripped through her right shoulder effectively causing her to lose her grip on her gun. She heard it clatter to the floor and instinctively tried to scramble for it, only to have it kicked away from her by Franklin's pigeon-toed foot. She fell onto her back.

"I thought it would be more difficult." Franklin wheezed in his unnatural high toned voice. "I was looking forward to some kind of a challenge with you McKee." He pressed his shoe into her wounded shoulder eliciting a strangled moan. "Bring me her gun."

Quin tried to sit up. She tried to get her feet under her so she could have some chance but was stopped by Franklin's hand making purchase on her hair. He gave it a strong yank. The pain nothing compared to the throbbing in her shoulder.

"Now now… Can't have you running about, but do sit," he dragged her against the wall releasing her head with a thrust so it bounced off the cinderblocks with a thud.

Quin prayed silently to any god that would listen that Vivian would arrive soon and save her ass so they could enjoy the rest of their lives in peace. In return for this one favor she promised to stop acting recklessly and pursue a career in pottery or maybe teaching.

"Kneel."

She opened her eyes to see the woman who had attacked her going down on her knees beside Franklin. The woman looked down at the gun in her hands.

"Give me." Franklin ordered and received the gun from the woman. "Now McKee, you need to be punished for entering my home, and disturbing my property." His meaty hand dropped and petted the brown hair of the woman kneeling beside him. "Of course your punishment is death, but I'll need a good reason to finish you off."

Quin watched in horror as her gun was placed against the woman's head, a fraction of a moment later she lay dead, blood pooling under her head, bits of gray matter, blood and bone splattered the wall, flecks of warm blood began to cool against her own face. The gunshot echoed in the hall "FUCKING BASTARD!"

"Tsk Tsk… such language." He dropped the gun beside the dead woman. "Now let's finish it shall we?"

Quin was lifted to her feet, Franklin's brawny fist entangled in her short hair, while his other hand landed several solid punches to her midsection. She gasped desperately for air only to receive a backhand across her cheek, quickly flowed by the ripping sensation of her eyebrow ring being forcibly removed from its place. The man's grip in her hair never relented as she was dragged down the hall. Her head was spinning and her vision coming in waves. Her right arm was useless, and she was trying frantically to release Franklin's iron grip from her hair with her left. So intent on that task was Quin that she didn't even realize she was airborne through the window and landing on her back in a pile of trash bags and rubbish fifteen feet below in the alley, until the sudden stop. She lay stunned — afraid to move; shards of glass from the window covered her, Quin looked up to the now empty window. She wondered if maybe she had passed out on impact. Time was jumbled. Her eyes slid shut, but only for a moment as the front of her bloody t-shirt was taken into Franklin's hand and she was once again hauled to her feet.

"Wow, that was quite a fall you took trying to escape the murder scene McKee." Franklin hissed.

Quin staggered in the big man's grip, hardly able to stand at all. There was so much pain she couldn't pinpoint anything specifically anymore. She felt pressure on her right shoulder. It was just enough to buckle her knees.

"That's it. On your knees. That's a good girl McKee. You know Grace was in this very same position a few years ago, only she was so mouthy. She begged and begged for me to spare her and your child's life. All that whimpering from a tough dyke cop was more than I could take. My first bullet went into her gut."

Quin couldn't stop the tears that came, but it was the only satisfaction that Franklin would get from her.

"She got too close you see. I had to end it. She was still pleading as I put three more rounds into her. Took her forever to die didn't it? Imagine all that pain she went through waiting on you to show up." Franklin circled her in the nearly dark alley, "No pleading and begging from you though."

Quin closed her eyes and steadied her breathing the best she could. Her fear had receded into disappointment. She heard faint sirens coming in the distance, but knew that they would be too late. Franklin stopped behind her.

"Well, it seems your little gook friend managed to escape my associate. I hate when my plans get ruined." Franklin paced back and forth talking to himself, "Well no sense in crying over spilt milk, so we need to wrap this up so I can get to a safe distance. Sorry we don't have time to drag this out a bit longer. I do love that look of defeat you wear. Any last words?"

Quin managed to clear her throat and spit a wad of blood in front of her. She took a shallow breath, "Go to hell."

"You first."

Three gunshots rang out. Quin felt the wetness of her bladder letting go as she jerked uncontrollably upon hearing the first shot. Her eyes were shut tight. She figured she just didn't feel the impact of the bullet due to all the other damage her body had taken. He head spun and she fell over onto her side. She moved to her back then let her head rock to the left where her eyes opened to stare into Franklin's lifeless gaze. Blood oozed from his gaping mouth as he took his final breath. Her head was gently brought back to look skyward. Vivian's concerned and tear filled eyes gazed down on her.

"God damn it Quinlan McKee, I can't leave you alone for a moment." Vivian sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her sleeve.

"Quang?" The brunette breathed the word in exhaustion.

"Safe and sound. He recorded it all Quin, every word." Vivian brushed the PI's tears away.

"Thank you for saving me again." McKee tried to smile. "I pissed myself. First time that's happened…"

"My pleasure ma'am on the rescue, and don't worry about the other. I won't tell anyone." Vivian tried to give a light hearted wink to the prone woman, but could feel tears welling in her eyes, "Lie still, the paramedics are here. Do what they say and don't give em' any grief." The blonde detective lowered her head and gave Quin a brief kiss. She stood and backed up so that the medics could work on her lover. There was so much she wanted to say, so many words that needed to be said to Quinlan McKee, but a dark smelly alley was not the place she wanted to do it. A paramedic draped a sheet over Franklin's cooling body. Vivian was glad not to have to look upon it anymore. She glanced up at the broken second story window where Maggie held up a single finger shaking her head negatively. Vivian knew she needed to go up there, but was reluctant to leave Quin. Quang appeared beside her.

"Is she…?" The young man started.

"I dunno," Vivian said with a shake of her head, "Did you give that tape to Maggie?" She received a silent head nod. "Will you stay with her? Call me if anything happens?"

"Go. Do what you need to; I'll stay with her." Quang offered with a small smile.

The smell at the top of the steps reminded Vivian of a filthy animal shelter, the pungent odor threatened to turn her stomach as she made her way past green-faced officers. A flash bulb illuminated the hall ahead for a brief second, and then two more quick flashes almost blinded her as she rounded the corner into the hall proper. Slumped awkwardly on the floor was a woman about thirty years old, most of her head was gone, the blood splatter was everywhere. Vivian soon deduced there was no way for her to walk without stepping in it. She skirted the body and the coroner, disturbing as little evidence as possible as she made her way to Maggie who was doubled over in a corner vomiting. The blonde detective gave her partner a moment to finish and collect herself. The redhead stood and wiped her mouth with a folded handkerchief that Vivian knew Maggie customarily carried with her. Then green eyes that were glossed with unshed tears looked up at her.

"We have a problem." Maggie said as she tugged on Vivian's jacket sleeve leading her down the hall. "We need to cut them out somehow. they can't be taken out of here like this. I called the captain he's sending some vans and was going to try and get a bus or something. I think he said he would call county… but the chains…" Maggie opened a storage room door and pulled Vivian just inside as she turned on her maglite and shined its beam into the room.

The small bodies of about fifteen children, approximately age five or six, were emaciated. Empty stares reflected in the beam of light. The chains that Maggie had mentioned also reflected dully in the light, securing each child to the wall as the chain passed through metal collars that were around each small neck. The smell was intense and pungent, making the blonde detective's eyes water. The children didn't make a noise as Vivian and Maggie looked them over. The smell of bodily waste was prevalent in the room and the blonde's stomach was very close to rebelling. She moved to the nearest child to take a closer look at the metal collar. On the back was a small brass padlock. She quickly retrieved her radio and called to any officer in the alley to search Franklin's body for any and all keys.

"There are more in the next room, all girls, all about thirteen or so." Maggie hovered at the door as she continued to give details of her nightmarish find. "Then one more room that has just boys, about the same age I think, maybe younger, hard to tell." Her sentence drifted off as Vivian's radio crackled, the officer on the end reporting no keys of any kind on Franklin.

Vivian growled deep in her chest before she keyed her mike, "Ask one of the firemen if they have some bolt cutters. I'll check the DOA up here for keys." She quietly reassured the children she would be back to set them free. She pushed past Maggie who looked ready to toss her stomach once again and rounded the corner into the hall where the coroner and his assistants were getting ready to bag the body of the woman. "Hold up." She requested as she moved closer, her brown leather loafers slipping in semi coagulated blood and gray matter. "I need to see if she has keys on her."

The coroner stood back to let the detective at the body. The blonde pulled on a pair of thin vinyl gloves and began searching by simply patting the exterior of the woman's clothing, stopping when she heard a slight muted jingle from the right front pants pocket. She reached in at an awkward angle, grimacing a bit when her watch got hung up on the pockets exterior, but her fingers made purchase on a clump of keys. She pulled them free and instructed the police photographer to take a picture of them as she held them against the body. She nodded in thanks to the coroner and rushed back to the first room as she shuffled through the ten or so keys on the simple chrome key ring. The padlocks were small, so she separated out the smallest key and made for the first child. It was hard to tell if it was a boy or a girl. All their hair was cut short, and they all wore large gray t-shirts that fell over their small bodies almost to the floor. The child she started with shrunk away from her as she tried to place the key in the lock. She tried to reassure all of them she was there to help, not hurt them. She tried again and was successful reaching the lock but the key wouldn't fit. Vivian sighed and bit her lower lip, the nausea was intense and she wanted nothing more than to bolt from the small room. She located another small key and placed it in the lock. It released the metal bolt immediately upon turning. She looked over her shoulder at Maggie and a uniformed officer holding a pair of bolt cutters. "Mags, tell that photographer to get in here, we need pictures, then get blankets, and check on the vans." She moved to the next child, "Oscar, start on the other end and cut the padlocks. I want these collars off them before they leave." The officer went for the opposite end of the room and began to cut the locks off. The children had become more helpful seeing what was happening. Vivian and the uniformed officer met somewhere near the middle. The photographer's flash was almost steady as they worked. Vivian noticed that as she released the collars the children shifted from her to huddle with each other. As she released the last lock she stood nearly in the middle of a clump of children all huddled together. The one camera flash was joined by another. Vivian looked angrily up and pointed at the reporter, "Who the FUCK let the PRESS in here?! Get them OUT!"

She gingerly stepped out of the loose circle, grabbing the photographer's camera and smashing it into the cinderblock wall next to the door. She handed what was left hanging from the strap back to the reporter telling him to send her a bill as she made her way over to Maggie who had a cell phone pressed to her ear. There was a dull roar of voices in the hall as officers and firemen gathered. She grabbed the nearest uniformed officer by the front of his shirt. "I want the press back on the street now." She growled low in her chest noticing with satisfaction the young man paling under her gaze. She let lose of his shirt and was pleased with the speed and efficiency that he carried out her orders. Paramedics swarmed the room of children, as she and Oscar moved to the next room of young girls to set them free as well. It was going to be a long night, Vivian thought to herself. Her thoughts also went to her lover below in the alley. As if sensing this, Maggie tapped her on the shoulder as the last collar fell from the last girl.

"They've transported her to Rampart. She's okay, mostly bruised besides the shoulder wound." She gave Vivian a reassuring smile and a firm squeeze of her hand. "The bus has arrived. The boys have rigged a tunnel of sorts with rain slickers from the door to the bus. It should detour the fucking helicopters from getting any shots before we can find parents." The red head detective walked to the end of the hall and came back with blankets that she distributed to empty handed officers and firemen alike.

Vivian took one from the stack and stood away from the wall where she had rested for just a moment. "Okay, listen up! We need to get these kids out of here and onto that bus with as little trauma as possible and avoid any face shots by the press, so every one grab a kid and line up on the stairs. We'll go in single file." She looked at Maggie who was talking with the officers on the street via radio. She got a thumb's up and a quick nod of Maggie's head to her unspoken question. "Okay, let's do it!"

"I'm not… stay… ing…" Quin told the young ER doctor for the umpteenth time in thirty minutes, "Give me a pair of scrubs and a bill." Suddenly the thin blue curtain of the exam area was whooshed aside and one Ruth Ross appeared pointing an authoritative finger at Quin.

"You will shut your mouth, and you will let this doctor do his job."

"Who called you?" Quin gritted out between clutched teeth.

"Whom do you think? Christ Almighty Quin, you have a gun shot wound to your shoulder, multiple lacerations from being put through a window, and several fractured ribs from falling twenty-five feet onto a rather solid asphalt surface. I'm not even going to start on all the injuries you've accumulated over the last month! You're lucky not to be dead, but I guarantee that if you don't start acting like an adult human being at this instance I will kill you myself and tell God you died of natural causes!" Ruth spouted, her face flushed with exertion, "Now, I can wait with you until you get into a room, and then I'll need to get home and rescue Tom. He's two years rusty with infants, not that I don't trust him…." She straightened a bit of gauze bandage on Quin's shoulder lying it flat as she rambled on, "… Just that he gets so wound up. Then he hovers like a little old woman waiting on the final bingo ball…."

Quin was afraid to comment on anything the woman was saying so she leaned back, resigned to the fact that she would be spending the night in the hospital, at least one night, and only one night if she had any say. She glanced at Ruth, a small smile tugged at her lips. It was nice having the woman back in her life. Quin was glad that some things went well over the last month. Her smile grew wider as she pondered the other thing that truly went well: Vivian Walsh. Now there was a wonder. How on earth had she lucked into Vivian Walsh?

"Are you listening to me Quinlan McKee?" Ruth poked her good shoulder.

Quin nodded mutely to the question. She had already dispatched Quang to get what she needed. She would simply have a rest until she found the right time to leave. Ruth's rambling continued as she drifted off into a drug-induced sleep.

PART 10

"I GOT THREE more!"

The adrenalin was pumping through every officer at the mid-town precinct. Missing children reports were being dragged from the bottom of desk drawers and out of file cabinets marked ‘cold cases'. There was a stack of fresh faxes from all over the city, and now they were being joined by out of state and federal agencies who wanted to match a face or two, to a long list of unforgotten children that went missing years ago.

Vivian squeezed past the bodies jamming the central hall and into the detective room. She weaved around uniformed and plain clothes officers with her latest bundle of files. She looked at Maggie as she plopped down into her chair. Her partner was on the phone talking animatedly, her hands punctuating her spoken words with wild gestures. The redhead had taken over Tom's desk for the time being. It made it easier to communicate with one another. "Problem?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. Maggie put her hand over her phone's receiver and lowered it to her chest.

"Fuckers at Channel 3 demand we release the names of the victims, claim it's for the good of the public. They say that by withholding them we appear to be partaking in a farce, and I quote the fuckers 'Concocted by the fascist Para-military state that consists of the LAPD and its governing body the City Council. ' End quote." The younger detective cocked her head to the side with a look of exasperation.

Vivian blinked several times processing the fact that Maggie Donner just used a variant or the ‘F' word, twice. Then an evil smile edged her lips as she reached for her extension, she pressed the small rubber button next to a steady red light, "Hullo? Yes, this is the fascist in charge of this case. My name is Vivian Walsh, W A L S H, Sergeant Detective, badge number 2368." She paused as the hopeful reporter on the other end of the line was jotting down her information, "Ready?" She asked receiving an affirmative answer, "Fuck off. Have a nice day. We'll call you." She hung up the receiver and turned her attention back to the files on her desk.

Maggie slowly hung up her receiver and gaped at the blonde, "You can't tell the press to fuck off Viv, and give them your name? Don't you remember you have a press conference with them later tonight? They are going to eat you alive!"

"They can go to hell. They're wasting our time. We have sixty-seven kids to match up with families. We have hundreds, HUNDREDS, more to track down according to Franklin's well-kept records. They want a piece of me then they're gonna have to take it, because I'm not giving nothing away until these families have all been notified."

Maggie settled into her chair opposite her temporary partner. It had been forty-eight hours since the horrific find at the storage building, and no one had rested. They had made a quick side trip to the hospital where Vivian had a very one-sided conversation with a stubborn Quin McKee. A short twenty hours later the PI was missing from her hospital bed, and a very pissed off Detective Walsh had been on the warpath ever since. Maggie closed her eyes and rolled her head and shoulders to relieve the stress of the last two days. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. She calmly looked across at her partner who was now skimming through a file in front of her. "Viv?"

"Hmm." Came the uncaring reply.

"Do you want me to call Quang, see if he's seen or heard from her?"

Vivian's head dropped a bit, then red-rimmed eyes lifted toward the red head, "I'm not going to chase after her. I don't have time for it. You don't have time for it, and these kids don't have time for it. She's a big girl, and there's nothing you, I, or even the ever trusty Quang can do to prevent her from doing harm to herself, or others for that matter. So let's focus on the here and now."

Both detectives held a long moment of eye contact before nods of agreement and small, joyless smiles set the issue aside as they returned to the task at hand.

Quin pulled her left shoulder up to her ear and felt the satisfying pops along her spine, her right shoulder was a no go for that activity so she moved on up to her neck, moving it right then left and sighing as the vertebrae put themselves back into something resembling a normal alignment. She adjusted the hood of the sweat jacket she stole from some unsuspecting employee at the hospital, who was also kind enough to donate a loose pair of jeans and a faded black t-shirt. She had to cuff the jeans considerably so they didn't drag on the ground. The only piece of clothing she was able to salvage from her own things were her trusty greasy Doc's, that currently were held on her feet by several rubber bands. It seemed the ER crew found it necessary to cut her bootlaces to remove them. She stood about fifty yards from a Budget Inn, waiting. She had been waiting for about three hours, and darkness was closing in fast as the sun sank into the Pacific Ocean a few miles away. Quin looked up at the sky painted in brilliant oranges and purples. It was a beautiful fall night. She wished she was spending it quietly sipping hot cider on the porch of her house in the company of Vivian, but the sooner this case closed the sooner she could indulge in the finer things of life.

The brunette lit a cigarette and dragged the smoke deep into her lungs, letting the gold lighter twirl between her fingers as she waited. She heaved a sigh of relief as a large Cadillac Coup Deville pulled up in front of her and lowered a dark tinted window revealing a bulky man with olive skin and a baldhead. She sent the cigarette flying with a flick of her fingers and walked over to the car. "What do you have for me Charlie?"

The man smirked and pulled a crumpled paper bag from the passenger side seat. He let the bag rest in his lap as he placed the car in park, leaving it to idle while he conducted business. "You look like yesterday's puke McKee." He reached into the bag and brought out a polished chrome gun. "Nine millimeter auto." He stated as he slid back the barrel of the gun and let it slip back, loading a round into the chamber. "It's not clean." He handed the gun to the small woman who inspected it.

"Any thing bigger than a nine in that bag?" Quin asked freeing and inspecting the magazine, finding it fully loaded.

The man raised an eyebrow, "You call in the middle of lunch, demand a piece and then get choosey? I may have to reconsider doing business with you McKee."

"I like a gun that stops what's coming at me Charlie. I'm not big and brawny like you." Quin winked at the man.

"Sorry babe, but that's all I could get on such short notice. Don't carry it too long though, and wipe it clean when your done. It's very dirty."

"Thanks Charlie. I owe you one."

"The great Quin McKee owes me a favor. I'll have to write this down when I get home." The man chuckled at Quin's rolling eyes.

"Get out of here Charlie. Chances are that cops won't be far behind."

Charlie dropped the gearshift into drive, "Be careful McKee, call if you need anything, anytime. I still owe you plenty."

Quin smiled and nodded. "Take care, Charlie." She watched as the Caddy turned at the corner and disappeared into the quickly cooling night. She checked the gun one last time then tucked it in the small of her back, settling the sweat jacket over it. She crossed the street as the sky turned from purple to black and entered the office of the small motel.

The clerk motioned her over to the Formica-covered desk with a conspiratorial wave, the bright fluorescent lights glared off the plastic plants that lined the counters corners. Quin idly thought that someone must spend a lot of time polishing fake leaves, and then she wondered just how much a leaf polisher makes an hour. She smiled to herself and shook her head to dismiss the train of thought as she leaned slightly over the counter to receive the whispered information from the clerk. Another smile tugged at her lips as she looked around the deserted area, wondering exactly why it was the man was whispering. She nodded politely and received a room key. Life was so much simpler with a key. Quin thanked the man for the info and instructed him to call the police in ten minutes. She pushed the office door open and exited into the cool night air. She knew the room was up stairs and suppressed a groan as she approached the climb, she took a deep breath and tested her battered legs on the first riser. Finding it to be a bearable pain she took the second step with more confidence. By the time she reached the top she was gritting her teeth so tightly she was sure she busted a filling or two. She rested at the top and probed a finger along her bottom teeth, sighing in relief to find everything in tact. Several more deep breathes and she was able to almost breath normally again. She looked at the room key, just making out the worn number, then looked up at the orange doors to determine which way to go. Quin took one step to the right and a pain shot from her toes up to her head, blurring her vision, and taking her breath away. She doubled over gasping for air once again.

This is stupid, she berated herself as she sank down to sit on the top step her eyes closing from fatigue and pain. I'm stupid, she chuckled disparagingly. She tipped her head back and took a deep calming breath, wiling the pain to ebb away. Her eyes fluttered open, and blinked away the blur revealing a dusty cobweb long abandoned by its maker. A cool breeze fluttered the pale web in tiny waves below the dingy eaves that sheltered the upper level of the motel. Someone else could crash into the hotel room and subdue the bad guys, she was tired and hurt. She made her way down the stairs and slowly walked across the street to a pay phone.

Vivian felt a bit overwhelmed as she stared out over the throng of reporters. She wasn't totally inexperienced at giving press conferences, just totally inexperienced at media circuses. She raised her hands in an effort to quiet the raucous crowd of reporters, "If everyone will take their seats and settle down we can start." ‘Start', now there's a word, settle in folks, for I have a bizarre tale of slavery, greed, and police corruption to spin for you. She thought with a grim smile. The room began to calm down and soon all eyes were on her. "Three days ago, as you all know, we made a gruesome discovery of fifty-seven children between the ages of six and fourteen being held in deplorable conditions…"

McKee jockeyed for position in the crowded room trying to get a better view of her lover. She growled as a woman pushed her from behind making no apologies as she scooted around Quin to grab the last remaining seat. Vivian had already started speaking as the brunette side stepped to lean against the wall with a sigh of relief just to be still for a moment. Vivian went on about the gruesome details of the case as the PI scanned the room. Almost everyone's eyes were on the tall detective as she spoke except for a rail thin blonde woman that had assumed the same position against the opposite wall across from Quinn. Pale blue eyes locked with her own gray as the woman's head dipped just slightly and her thin lips said a silent ‘thank you' towards Quin, who reflexively looked about for the person the woman was speaking to, but found no one else in her immediate vicinity. She made eye contact with the woman again and pointed a finger at her chest in question. The woman smiled and nodded then put her arm around the person next to her giving the young man that stood there a gentle squeeze. Quin glanced at the young man who beamed a teary smile at her it was Christopher Dawson. The PI nodded in acceptance and offered a silent ‘you're welcome', toward the pair who smiled in acknowledgement, then turned their attention back to the press conference. Quin raised her eyes to the podium where Vivian continued to lay out facts for the throng of reporters and cameras. Her heart filled with love and for the first time Quin reflected on how truly lucky she was to have fallen in love twice in her lifetime. Certainly that was an odd occurrence and she vowed not to squander such a gift. She would be making changes to her behavior and to her life, in order to guarantee that she would be around to enjoy this newfound love.

There was a long pause in Vivian's monologue as a uniformed officer whispered something in her ear. She cleared her throat and scanned the crowd before her looking for one face in particular as she began to speak again. "I've just been informed that two more arrests have been made in this case, bringing the total to seventeen. Thanks to an anonymous tip we were able to take into custody two men we believe to be very close to the top of the organization that conducted this trade in human flesh." Her eyes finally found Quin propped against a wall to her left and she gave a slight nod and a small smile in the PI's direction before beginning to speak once more, "Again I'll reiterate what I said two days ago: anyone who has information that can lead the police to more children or suspects in this case should call us immediately. These people need to be brought to justice, and lives need to be returned to those unjustly enslaved for profit. In exactly three days a list will be released to the press of all the remaining children and young adults that we will not have been able to match with parents. Until then the current hotline number will be up and running twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week." Vivian took a deep breath and pushed her hand through her hair, "I'll answer a few questions now."

Quin took the opportunity to slip out of the crowded room as the noise level shot up and reporters vied for the attention of the blonde detective. She only got down the hall a few feet when a reporter yelled above the crowd, "Did the Angel of Justice assist the police on this case? Is tax payer dollars going to pay for vigilantes?" The PI was back in the crowded room and closing in on the man who was shouting above the other reporters, his question going unanswered as Vivian chose to ignore him and opted for one of the numerous TV reporters up front close to the podium. The room quieted to hear the exchange between reporter and detective. Quin could hear the man just in front of her mumble to himself, and his pen tap against the open notepad that he held at the ready. As soon as Vivian concluded her answer the voices rose again to garner her attention, and just as the man started to raise his hand and opened his mouth to once again bellow his question toward the podium, Quin clasped her hand around the back of his neck, and gave a firm squeeze, an action that did not go unpunished as her cracked ribs slipped against themselves causing her grip to intensify until she heard a little gasp from the man in her grip. She raise just a bit on tip toes to whisper in the man's ear, "You will step outside with me." She relaxed her grip just a bit to let the man turn his head to regard her. As he looked her up and down, obviously determining the threat if any she posed, she lifted her shirt to show the shiny 9mm pistol snuggled between her belly and the borrowed jeans she wore. The man paled, as the realization seemed to hit him that to ‘step outside' was not a request it was a command. Quin tangled her hand in the loose windbreaker the man wore and guided him out of the conference room and then silently down the hall, through a heavy steel door that led to parking garage full of empty police cruisers. A quick glance left than right and small satisfied smile as she spotted a nice out of the way niche behind two concrete pylons, which would give just enough cover from eyes, human and electronic. The man gave some resistance as she maneuvered him toward the alcove. She didn't manhandle him too much, mainly because she was in no condition to do so, but also because she just wanted a word with the reporter, not cause him any harm, permanent or otherwise. She settled him against the cold concrete wall and smiled her best disarming smile to put him at ease. "My name is Quin McKee, I'm a private investigator. And you are?"

"Miles Ivan?"

"You are or you are not, which is it?" Quin asked with a smirk.

The man nodded quickly, "I am. I am." He confirmed.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Ivan. I'm going to ask a favor of you. I assure you that I'm good for this favor, and you may call it due anytime you like. Do you understand me so far?" A quick nervous nod, "Of course, if you don't want to grant me this favor, we have nothing to discuss, although I can't guarantee that my future behavior will be," She paused searching for the correct word, "proper." The word left plenty to the imagination.

"What do you want?" The man cautiously asked.

"Drop the Angel of Justice bit. There is no such person."

"But Scott Peers…" the reporter protested.

"I found Scott Peers."

A few blinks, "But Donald Peterson was…."

"He caught me on a bad day." Unapologetic smile.

Silence. Raised dark brow.

"I could name you."

"And I would deny anything you print, so will the police." That's an over confident assumption McKee, she thought to herself.

"What exactly do I get in return?"

"There will be a time in your life when you will need a favor above and beyond anything friends or family can provide. I will be able to grant that favor." Quin said as she took the man's notebook from his tightly clutched hand. She scribbled a few lines and held the book up for the man to inspect what she wrote, "Do we have a deal?" She watched his eyes dart from the notebook then to her steady gaze. She knew his decision had been made as he took the notebook from her hand. Quin watched as the reported tore the page from the notebook, folded it, and then placed it safely in his wallet.

He looked left than right then directly at Quin. "Deal."

Tom Ross had quite literally escaped from his neo-natal parental duties by volunteering to go to the store. Some would say that he had literally jumped at the opportunity to do this mundane chore. Witnesses would have seen him go from a prone position on the floor in front of yet another Blues Clues episode — a marathon it seemed and his three-year-old son would not be swayed to watch anything else — to fully upright, with shoes on, forgoing any socks for time was of the essence if he was to make his escape to the outside adult world without complications of tag alongs. His wife had supplied him with a list and a crumpled twenty-dollar bill. In his rush he nearly forgot his keys and wallet, and literally frowned as Ruth pushed his cell phone into his jacket pocket. "The store." She had said to him in that no bargains brokered tone that meant he shouldn't deviate from the plan set before him. He had simply smiled and nodded and skipped to the car basking in the sunshine and cool autumn air. Freedom was his, and he would do as he pleased for the next hour. He was off to find some adult companionship, and what better place than the precinct house.

His gleeful childlike smile faded as he entered a deserted detective room where ringing phones went answered by voice mail after the pre-requisite six rings. A movement off to his right caught his eye as one of the many task chairs swiveled around to reveal one Quin McKee.

"Ruth get tired of you, or did you run away?" The brunette asked already knowing the truth.

"I'm going to the grocery store." Tom said with a smile, "This is a shortcut."

"If you give me a dollar, I won't call your wife."

"If you call my wife, she'll no longer be focused on my little detour, but on the fact that the MIA patient of the week is calling her. You'll only buy me more time, and if you think she's pissed, you should talk to your girlfriend." Tom retorted as he sat in his own wheeled chair and scooted closer to the now frowning PI.

"Girlfriend is an inadequate term." Quin thought out loud.

"Might not have to worry about the terminology my friend, ‘cause you are in deep trouble. I fielded seven phone calls, and two visits myself from the honorable Sgt. Detective Walsh. The only reason I am able to be here today to speak with you is because I told her I made her the guardian of my six children if something were to happen to me." His toothy smile surfaced once again, "That put an end to her threats, not that I had a damn clue where you'd gotten off to." His brow narrowed and his lips pursed, "You could have least called." The detective could feel Quin's anxiety, it radiated off her.

"I'm sorry for that. I know I've been an ass about shit like that." Quin said with a sigh. "Do you think she's so pissed she won't have anything to do with me?" Her voice wavered doubtfully. Quin had spent the better part of the last thirty minutes going over the details of her bad behavior the last three days. What she concluded was that she nowhere near deserved the likes of Vivian Walsh, and that whatever may come as way of fruit of her recent past, she would accept that, even though she hoped beyond hope that Vivian would at least like to remain friends with her.

Tom scooted closer and grabbed the scraped and scarred hands that trembled in Quin's lap. He held them gently, "I think she is in love with you, and I think that you need to talk to her, and I think that you have to stop this self destructive shit, and I think you need to get into counseling to deal with all the crap life has handed you, and most of all, I think you need to let people help you: People like me and Ruth, and Teddy, and Quang, and most certainly Vivian Walsh." Wow, thought I would never get to say half that to Quin McKee. Tom thought to himself. He looked around the deserted detective room, "Where is everyone anyway?"

Quin sniffled and raised an arm to wipe her tears on a convenient sleeve, "Press conference." She replied, happy that Tom gave her a moment to deal with all he had said without pushing for anything further from her.

"Ahhh, well…" Tom paused and looked around then grinned at McKee, "Wanna rifle through some desks?"

Quin couldn't help the giggle that fluttered up. She sniffled and swatted his broad shoulder, "I've already done it."

Tom snapped his fingers, "Rats! I'm always too late for the desk rifling."

The tension eased between the two just as people began to fill the room marking the end of the conference and the return to work for the detectives. Tom noticed that Quin's attention had left him for something happening over his shoulder. He followed her gaze to see Vivian and Maggie entering the room together engaged in animated conversation. He had a fleeting moment of envy not to be participating in this epic case. He watched as Vivian took notice of either him or Quin, and a thin smile appeared and disappeared in almost an instant. A quick glance at the PI indicated she too had caught this tiny display of happiness and discontent. He shook his head and childishly spun in his chair causing Quin to give him a lopsided grin as she shook her head from side to side dismissing his behavior with a roll of her eyes.

Vivian's eyes locked onto Quin's as she made her way to her desk. She broke eye contact just long enough to answer an insistently ringing phone. She turned and regarded her best friend and her lover as Ruth Ross gave specific directions to her incase she saw her husband who was not back from the grocery store yet and, according to Ruth, had time to go and return home twice since he left. The sharp click of the phone being unceremoniously hung up caused Vivian to raise a blonde eyebrow in the direction of the AWOL father who was engaged in a slap fight over a paperclip caddy that Maggie was trying to retrieve from her desk. Vivian sighed and walked over to the scene of playground activities that was really just a side effect of paternity leave cabin fever. She ignored Tom and Maggie as she sat on the nearest desktop to Quin. "Simon Days and David Gentry huh? How in the hell did you find them?" Vivian asked while smiling at Tom's antics. He had secured a rubber band between two pencils and was taking aim with the few paperclips he was able to wrestle from Maggie at an unsuspecting desk sergeant who was bent over the water fountain in the hall.

Quin looked over her shoulder and grimaced at the pain it caused. She decided turning the chair was a better course of action and was soon facing the object of her love and desire. She smiled softly and sighed, "I have friends in very low places."

"You should be in a hospital."

"I know."

Vivian blinked twice at the admittance. That was not the smart-ass response she had expected, "Then why aren't you?"

"Excellent follow up question Detective Walsh." Tom snickered as a masculine yelp echoed down the hall, celebrating his successful hit on the uniformed officer's rear.

Quin craned her head just enough to scowl at Tom Ross. "I'll go back. I just wanted to finish." It came out a pathetic childish grump.

Vivian slid off the desk and offered her hand to the PI, "I have it on good authority that they won't have you back, so you're coming with me." I have you now Quin McKee! She thought to herself as she shook her hand at the passive brunette. "Come on. I'm way past done here for tonight." A soft smile edged her face as Quin's smaller hand fitted into her own. She gave a small heave, lifting Quin from the chair to stand beside her. Then using her free hand she cuffed Tom Ross in the back of the head, "Your wife said to tell you that if you aren't back by the hour, she will have to take drastic measures to assure your continuing cooperation and performance of parental duties."

Tom stopped in mid aim of Maggie's rear, and cocked his head to the side, "That doesn't sound good."

"Her exact words were, ‘Tell him to get his ass home now or else.'"

The silver-headed detective placed his hastily constructed toy on a near by desk and stood, "I was leaving anyway. I'll walk you two out." He hooked one arm over Quin's shoulder and the other around Vivian's offered arm. The threesome made their way silently out of the precinct into the cool, evening November air. Vivian and Quin sent Tom off. Quin watched his mini van pull out of the parking lot as she settled into the front seat of Vivian's car.

"Do you think we should follow him to the store?" The PI joked as Vivian helped her to fasten her seat belt, knowing somehow that she was less than able to pull the strap herself.

"Naaa, he'll be a good boy. He doesn't want to tangle with Ruth." The detective fastened herself in with a soft laugh that was echoed by her car mate. "Are you hungry?" She asked as she started the car.

"Not really."

"When did you last eat?" The car backed smoothly from its space.

"I had some coffee that I filched from the detective room about thirty minutes ago."

"It's a wonder you're standing." Vivian mumbled getting a little grin from the PI.

"I've had worse." Quin rolled her head and shoulders the popping noises quite audible in the small car.

Vivian studied her passenger for a long moment before pulling into traffic. She looked so small and vulnerable for just a second as the pain registered across her pale features. The headlights and taillights of the traffic going by illuminated the car in a muted shifting light. Without much thought she put the car into park and leaned over to Quin, turning her head gently and kissing her lips softly. They shared a few breaths before Vivian spoke, "You're in trouble. You know that right?"

Quin nodded slowly.

"If you're good for the next few days, I might be compelled to forget that I'm pissed at you. The department Psych has put me on leave for a week, so guess where I'm spending it and with whom?"

The brunette's eyes looked out the windshield as her lower lip found its way under her front teeth. She then blinked as she brought her eyes back to stare into those marvelous blue depths, "At my house, with me?"

"You're very smart Quin McKee." Vivian punctuated this statement with another soft kiss.

"Thanks, I think." Quin said softly in a pleasurable haze from the delicious kisses, her eyes had fallen shut. She felt Vivian's thumb brush across her lips.

"Not your color sweetheart."

Quin's eyes fluttered open as Vivian scooted back to her own seat and pulled the car into traffic.

PART 11

SHE COULDN'T SAY what exactly woke her from the deep warm sleep she had been enjoying. There didn't seem to be any noise except for the soft whisper of the ceiling fan above. Quin stretched her limbs one by one then she had herself a languid body stretch that was topped off by an enormous yawn. As her muscles contracted and relaxed her eyes took in the room around her — her own bedroom, in her own house. She remembered arriving, and she remembered the chicken broth that had been expertly warmed in the microwave by Vivian. After that everything became kind of fuzzy. She sat up slowly on the side of the bed and was pleased at how little pain she experienced. A pair of sweats and a t-shirt was folded neatly on the nightstand. She stood and grabbed the clothes on her way to the bathroom.

Vivian peeled a green apple, one of ten large green apples that she would need for the apple pie she was making. She heard the soft thumps come from the room directly above the kitchen, and the shower start. Part of her wanted to go up the stairs and get into the shower with the brunette. Then there was the part of her that was still a little mad at the PI, and that part was going to stay right where she was, peeling and slicing apples for her first ever apple pie. She had just finished her last apple when the shower was turned off. The crumpled and now wet directions she was trying hard to follow were once again queried. She never imagined that a pie had so many steps, and was regretting the decision. Ruth had been very patient on the phone giving her the secret family recipe, but Vivian was pretty sure that the pie crust was supposed to stay together. What lined the pie pan in front of her was more like a dough patch work quilt from hell. Her blue eyes tracked back to the ceiling as soft thumps indicated more activity from the room above then the eyes landed back on the recipe in her hand. She was rolling out the top crust just as Quin's wet head poked around the kitchen doorjamb. "Do you know how hard it is to keep pie dough together?" She asked as she took a deep breath and prepared to top the heap of apples that were waiting patiently in the pan.

Quin edged into the room, "I've never tried to make a pie."

"Me either until about an hour ago." Vivian's tongue slipped between her lips as she tried to move the quickly deteriorating rough circle of dough. A slow growl passed her lips when it fell apart in her hands, leaving two ragged pieces that mocked her in a silent rebuke. She looked up at Quin expecting to see that smug grin the PI flashes when she's amused by something. Instead she found gray eyes contemplating her hands with thoughtfulness. Then if by magic Quin's smaller hands joined her own, together they reworked the dough in a new ball then rolled it into a new flat top crust. Quin maneuvered her smaller frame to stand with in Vivian's longer arms as their four hands gently picked up the crust. With their joint breaths held, they moved the crust to drape the apples and then exhaled softly as it settled into place without so much as a tear. Vivian took Quin's hands into her own and smiled. "Wow." She felt Quin shrug her shoulders.

"We make a good team." The brunette offered in way of explanation of their success. Silence from the woman behind her made her look up and over her shoulder. "Or maybe not."

Vivian's smiled faded as she released Quin's hands allowing the woman to turn and face her. "I think we could make a good team."

Quin's heart just about stopped in her chest and her limbs became heavy with dread of what was about to come out of the blonde's mouth next.

Vivian noticed the change immediately. Quin looked defeated. She looked resigned. A decision need to be made at that moment, and it was easy for her to choose. She raised her hands, even though they were covered with flour and dough, and framed Quin's face. "I think we can make a good team. With practice." She leaned forward and gave Quin a reassuring kiss. "And communication." Another small soft kiss. "Lots of communication."

Quin accepted the third kiss and felt the sense of darkness lift. It was her turn. "I'm sorry. I should have called."

"You should have stayed your scrawny ass in the hospital." Vivian countered.

Quin's dark head nodded slowly, "I should have stayed my scrawny ass in the hospital, and I should have called you with the information I had."

"And?" Vivian urged.

"And I… " Quin paused thinking of what else there could be and decided to just pick something from the last forty-eight hours that was inconsiderate, "… I shouldn't threaten reporters, and I should turn over guns that I acquire through less than proper channels to the police at the station instead of mailing them fed-ex to the Captain."

Vivian blinked several times, shook her head, and snickered. "You're kidding me right?"

Quin bit her lower lip, and thought for a moment she should say yes that she was kidding, then thought better of it, remembering the bit about communication and assuming that meant truthfully communicating, she sighed and said softly. "No."

Vivian started to say something but paused, then began to speak again and failed. She grinned outwardly and then smiled as she realized that Quin was serious and that she was really trying. She could either make a big deal of it or quietly accept this offer of candor she was being gifted with. "Okay, umm… I agree that perhaps those things could have been handled differently, and I don't want any details." She held up her hand as if to ward off any explanation the PI might give. "Let's call a do-over then."

"A do-over?"

"Yeah, a do-over. You know, we forget about everything that has happened, except the lesson learned, and we start over." Vivian explained and moved to finish the pie now that it was topped. She glanced at the well abused recipe and added sugar and cinnamon to the top of the crust.

"So where do we exactly start over from?" Quin asked as she leaned on her elbows against the counter watching Vivian finish the pie and place it on a cookie sheet. She casually rubbed her finger together dislodging the flour and dough from them into a fine dust on the counter surface. She was intrigued by this do-over concept, especially since it would save her a considerable amount of time trying to apologize for all the idiotic insensitive things she had done in the last month. It wasn't that she was not sorry for these infractions of behavior. It was the simple fact that there were so many she might actually do more harm than good by confessing them all.

Vivian placed her pie in the preheated oven and set the timer. She closed the door with a simple satisfaction that she hadn't felt in a long time. She turned and answered Quin's question. "Dinner." She moved to the sink and washed her hands, "I think we should start over from our dinner in L.A., and we'll start tonight." She looked at the timer on the oven, "So that gives us about an hour to get ready."

"We're going to dinner?" Quin asked unsure.

"Yup. I've already picked the place and made the reservations."

"You have?"

"Yup. The dress is casual, but neat, no ripped jeans and no leather jacket."

"T… "

"No T-shirts. I know you have other clothes Quin McKee, so go put your self into them." Vivian shooed in the direction of the kitchen door at her, "I need to clean up here and get ready too."

Quin's lower lip pouted out for a moment then acceptance graced her face. She had promised to behave and cooperate with the beautiful detective. Quin kept her promises. It was her code of life. Her departure from the kitchen was not swift. She snuck a bit of left over pie dough and rolled it in some sugar. She wondered to herself as she climbed the stairs why Vivian was making an apple pie. Perhaps dessert for later she mused as she stopped in the hall bath to wash her dusty hands. Her next stop was the closet.

Vivian had just finished putting the last dish in the dishwasher when she heard the too loud thump from above. Then the quiet that followed was suddenly punctuated with a painful sob. Her long legs took her up the steps and into the master bedroom of the old house in seconds. Quin wasn't immediately visible. She had to pause for a moment to orient herself to the sounds of the woman who was steadily crying now. She found Quin on the floor of the large walk in closet. By the time she came to settle on the floor next to the brunette the crying had turned to a soft weeping. Vivian scooted until she was able to wrap Quin in her arms and rock her gently. She waited, silently supporting her lover. Letting her work through the grief that had suddenly overtook her, for there was little doubt to Vivian that it was grief that consumed the brunette. She need to only look up at the long row of clothing to understand. Quin must have not taken care of this detail after Grace's death. The tailored suits and dresses all hung silently waiting on cedar hangers for someone to put on. Only the person they had been so carefully made for would never return to claim ownership of the fine clothing.

Quin sniffled and became nearly silent. She acknowledged Vivian by closing her arms over the strong long arms of the detective holding her. She took a deep shuddering breath, "I've forgotten to do so many things for her."

Vivian didn't know what to say so she just tightened her grip a little more to reassure Quin she was there.

"I… would you help me with this?" Quin asked softly, almost ashamed of her weakness.

Vivian kissed the dark head that rested against her chest, "Yes."

Quin took another deep breath, "Thank You." She said exhaling. Maybe this communicating thing had merit.

"We're going to make a good team." Vivian reminded the woman in her arms as she gently rocked from side to side.

"I believe you." Quin confirmed and accepted.

Vivian smiled, "Lets get ready. These lovely clothes will wait another day." She helped Quin to her feet and turned to face the long line of clothes on the opposite side of the closet, "I suppose that I will need to be thanking my predecessor often for her taste." She fingered a vibrant blue raw silk blouse.

Quin grinned and rolled her eyes, she used the sleeve of the t-shirt she wore to wipe her eyes. "I picked out her clothes. Grace was hopeless when it came to fashion." Quin smiled as she pulled the blue blouse and a pair of black trousers from the rod below and exited the closet leaving Vivian a little confused as she considered the possibility that Quin McKee could dress anyone else let alone her self in such finery.

Vivian had been wrong. She admitted it to herself rather reluctantly, she hated to be wrong. The specifics were that either Quin McKee cleaned up nice out of luck, or she really was able to dress herself elegantly and possibly dress others thusly as well. There was a gentle sophistication to the end product that had descended the stairs and walked out to get into a rather cherry Thunderbird, on which the black finish was so shiny that it looked wet. Vivian didn't dare question where the car had appeared from as the keys were pressed into her hand by an ever vigilant Anthony who also informed her that the pie was in the trunk safe and cozy. She marveled at how well she fit behind the wheel of the classic 1955 car. The leather seat seemed to hug her hips as she settled in. When she cranked the ignition a thrill passed through her as the rumble of the engine hinted at something other than stock under the hood. The competition shift that boasted five speeds on its chrome knob caused a raised brow in the brunette's direction. There was a slight shrug of shoulders and a mumbled, ‘It was too slow.' Vivian could accept that, sometimes a person needed to tweak a few things in life to get a good fit. She placed the car in first and released the parking brake. There was just a little discomfort as she adjusted to the unfamiliar clutch, but by the time she came to the end of the residential street she had it down and was eager for a little drive on the highway.

Quin was content to doze in the passenger seat. She was in no hurry. It was nice to be going she decided where ever it was they were going. It was all too soon though that she began to notice a familiar building here or fast food restaurant there. She made a prediction to herself where the reservations had been made for this ‘date'. Quin shifted in her seat and turned to look at the blonde who seemed to be enjoying herself. She wanted to be uncomfortable with this, but something inside begged that she give it a chance. What harm could come from letting go for one night. Let Vivian have her way. The Thunderbird exited the highway. Quin shifted back into her seat and patted her pockets for her cigarettes. She must have left without them. Damn. Damn.

Damn.

Vivian noticed the pat down with a frown. She pulled into the next gas station and silently got out of the car. She returned in a few moments dropping a pack of cigarettes and a lighter into Quin's lap before closing her car door and once again entered traffic.

Quin picked up the pack and looked at it in horror, "Ultra lights?"

"Until you get back on the patch." Vivian said as she negotiated the lighter than usual weekday traffic toward their destination.

"Stop at the next drug store." Quin urged. "At least I'll be getting some nicotine that way."

Vivian chuckled and did as requested. She watched as Quin exited the car and disappeared into the 24-hour drug store. She returned a few moments later and rapidly applied a patch to her shoulder.

"All set Detective."

"You're sure?"

Quin thought for a moment and nodded, "Yes."

Quin wasn't surprised when Vivian pulled into the long drive of the Ross' house. She had a feeling that was their destination. "Was it hard to get reservations here?"

Vivian shook her head, "Not if you know to whom to talk."

"I feel like I'm missing something." Quin said as she opened her car door.

Vivian had already exited and retrieved her pie from the trunk, it was still warm enough she needed to use the towel wrapped around it to carry the dessert to the front door. "Do you know what today is Quin?" She asked using her elbow to close the trunk lid.

"Tuesday?"

Vivian blinked a few times then smiled, "No. Tuesday was two days ago."

"But you took me home Monday."

"And you ate some soup and passed out."

"I did not sleep for two days." Quin insisted as they made their way to the porch where She pressed the doorbell and slung the doorknocker for good measure. She began to get nervous, her lower lip suffered as she externalized.

"You slept for two days, almost three days actually." Vivian shifted the pie a little in order to grab hold of some cooler towel surface. "I drugged your soup."

Quin was about to say something she would regret when the front door opened and a jovial Tom Ross wrapped her in a hug.

"Happy Thanksgiving Quin!"

She received a wet kiss on her cheek which she promptly wiped off with the back of her hand as Vivian was being accosted in the same manner she wiped the back of her hand off on Tom's shirt. Then it dawned on her. He had said Happy Thanksgiving. "It's Thanksgiving?"

Tom and Vivian looked at her.

"It's Thanksgiving." Quin stated then looked thoughtful. "I slept for two days." Another statement. Then her eyes narrowed at the buxom blonde detective. "You drugged my soup."

Tom licked his lips then gestured at the pie in Vivian's hands in hopes to change what seemed to be a worrisome subject. "That looks great."

Quin moved him aside and stepped closer to Vivian who held out the pie in front of her to ward off her advance.

"Thanks Tom. Quin helped, didn't you honey?" Large blue eyes smiled at Quin.

And Quin melted under that gaze. "Yes. I helped. A little." Her intent was forgotten. She was whipped and knew it.

Tom smiled at the two. "Let's get inside, we'll be eating soon."

Ruth was in ‘Holiday Mode'. There was no room for error. Failure was not an option.

Vivian eased into the kitchen and placed her apple pie on the large wood topped island in the middle of the room. She had to nudge over a plate of deviled eggs to the right and a bowl of coleslaw to the left. It amazed her the amount of food Ruth Ross prepared for a holiday dinner. The matriarch was standing at the sink washing dishes.

"Need help?" Vivian asked while sneaking a green olive off a plate full of savory goodies. Ruth turned toward her with a smile.

"Just about done. Is Quin with you?" The doctor turned just in time to see a cookie disappear into the detective's mouth.

"Hmmm mmmm." Vivian nodded then swallowed her sweet treat and eyed a piece of fudge, "Tom has her." She reached for the dark chocolate morsel only to receive a slap to her hand.

"That's for later, if you eat all of your real food." Ruth smiled at the disappointed groan. "Now if you want to help, you can start carrying this stuff to the table." She put the deviled eggs into Vivian's hands and waved her toward the dining room. She bellowed for two more helpers, and her oldest children appeared. It was time to set the table. It was almost time to relax, but not quite. The buzzer for the oven sounded for what would be the last time this Thanksgiving Day.

Quin was in a word uncomfortable. The last two recent times in the Ross house had been relatively quick stays. This was different. This was a holiday meal. She was going to have to interact with people — with the Ross children. She found the living room empty, which was to her liking. There were new family pictures everywhere mixed with the old images. She wasn't surprised not to find any of the photos with herself and the kids that once occupied the same space that new pictures now occupied. Quin paused in her perusal as she came across a photo of a pile of kids. Immersed in the pile was a laughing Grace.

"Hey."

Tom's soft voice called her from her examination. She turned to see him approaching her with a bundled baby.

"Will you hold her for a minute? I need to run upstairs to get a diaper."

Quin smiled and nodded holding out her arms to accept the precious new life. Tom settled them both in an overstuffed chair with a promise to be right back. The PI caressed the soft cheek of the infant girl with a single finger and whispered soft words of praise to the baby while tickling a tiny lower lip to produce a very tiny pout.

Ruth stood in the doorway observing Quin for a moment. Her heart sank a bit, she had spent the better part of two weeks explaining to her children that she was wrong about Quin McKee. She found it was a hard task admitting that. She was amazed at the maturity of her children. The three year old was just happy he had another Aunt. "I see you've been charmed by our little Grace."

Quin's heart nearly stopped. "Grace?" The name was a strangled whisper. She had barley spoken the name in three years. It had become a thought to her.

Ruth sat on the wide arm of the chair and smiled softly.

Quin thought about how she felt holding her dead lovers namesake. She wondered how Grace would have felt about having a child named after her. Her finger stroked the soft cheek of the sleeping infant. "I think she would have been elated." She looked up as she felt the weight of Ruth's hand on her shoulder. "I think she would have been proud." Quin looked down upon the infant in her arms again, "Welcome to the world Grace Ross." She pressed a kiss to the baby's forehead. Everything is just how it is suppose to be, Quin thought as she enjoyed holding the new life in her arms.

PART 12

IT WAS JUST before midnight when two very well-fed women entered the big house in Silverlake. They put their several plates of "for later" food that Ruth had insisted that they take with them in the refrigerator. The baggies of cookies and candy landed on the counter.

Dinner went well. Quin's discomfort was soon replaced with a deep warm feeling, as she was welcome once again into the Ross family. She had apologized to each of them through out the day and evening as opportunities presented themselves. Quin was surprised as each child had hugged and kissed her, forgiveness obviously an easy concept for the innocent. Tom and Ruth had been cornered during yet another diaper change. They had assured her that no amends were required except one.

"Stop being an ass, and come to dinner more often." Tom had said as his wife nodded agreeing with his less than tactful demand.

So it was with a much lighter heart and conscience Quin McKee returned home. It was a smoldering libido that now surfaced as she watched Vivian bend over to greet Mike. She had yet to take the initiative to make love to this beautiful woman that had gifted her life with the love and joy that she hadn't known is three years of misery, sorrow, and regret. She took mental and physical stock of herself. She wasn't one hundred percent just yet, but more than enough ready for some gentle love making on a cool Thanksgiving evening. Quin hoped that Vivian was of a similar mind as she came to stand directly behind the detective, admiring the heart-shaped rear of her love. Her right hand reached out and her fingers skimmed the surface of the long brown skirt that was stretched over the surface of skin that Quin wanted oh so much to feel directly. There was a soft gasp of surprise from the blonde that was followed by a soft moan as Quin used both of her hands to pull shapely hips back, bringing that luscious rear end into contact with her own rapidly heating center. She made a slow circular move with her own hips against Vivian eliciting another moan from her own lips. With out speaking a word she eased her hands up a bit causing Vivian to stand. She was reminded of the first time the blonde had touched her in this same kitchen just a few weeks ago as her fingers found the zipper to the skirt and lowered it with a delicious sound that promised superb things beyond. As the skirt fell from Vivian's hips she let her hands dip into the warm space on either side of Vivian's center, her fingers and thumbs forming a triangle over delicate lace panties. A mental image came to Quin as she framed her desired destination. She had to tilt her head up just a bit to whisper into the blonde's ear, "I want to feel all of you." Her hands began to roam then of their own will, eliciting all sorts of wonderful sounds from Vivian. "Let's go to the bedroom." A breathy ‘yes' was Vivian's only answer as she turned in Quin's arms and took the PI's lips in a passionate kiss.

They made slow progress to the stairs. The stops were frequent as they lost the ability to walk and kiss at the same time in some instances. Then there were the full body presses against convenient walls and door jams. Neither woman even noticed as a giggling Maggie, followed closely by a grinning Quang emerged from the basement into the hall almost colliding with the couple locked in a desperate tangle of limbs and lips. Quang's grin faded to a gape.

"McKee!"

Shit! Quin pushed a partially clothed Vivian behind her. "Quang!"

Maggie blinked several times then offered a shy, "Hi Sarge." Accompanied by a small wave as she slinked behind Quang.

Vivian blushed to her toes and waved back, "Hi Mags." Then a small smile in the thin man's direction, "Quang."

Quin rolled her eyes, "Well now that introductions are over, where in the hell did you two come from?" She shifted to cover as much of Vivian as possible while closing the front of her own shirt that somehow had come unbuttoned.

Quang threw his head toward the basement door.

"You and Maggie in the basement?" Vivian asked with a giggle.

"Please." Quin rolled her eyes again at Vivian's question, "Don't ask for details."

Maggie whispered something in Quang's ear then trotted her sheet covered form to the kitchen. Quang watched her go with a small smile, which was quickly lost as he found himself pressed against the basement door by a somewhat annoyed Quin McKee.

Vivian took the opportunity to turn the corner and lope up the stairs. Quin watched her go with a grin of her own before turning back to her associate. "What are you doing here Quang? I thought you had a dinner date. That's what Anthony said."

"I did. We came back about three hours ago." Quang shrugged his shoulders, "One thing led to another…"

"No details Quang." Quin warned.

The Asian man smirked.

"Why not use the guest bedroom Quang? You practically live there anyway." Quin asked as she eased the pressure off her associate. "Did you have to defile my couch?" A silent shrug answered her. "Fine." She released the thin man and sighed. "Just please try to keep it down." A silent nod and a fake serious gaze acknowledged her plea. Her eyes rolled for the third time in as many minutes. "Go." She backed away shaking her head and watched the boxer short clad man excitedly side step into the kitchen.

Vivian took the opportunity to slip into the shower. She silently cursed herself for not having some sort of sexy lingerie on hand, she hadn't been thinking of seduction when she had packed for the stay at the PI's house. She frowned a little. She had been upset with the woman when she had packed to begin with. Now she was just a little miffed, but that was quickly waning as her body sang with arousal and her lips tingled with the memory of recent heated kisses. Her fingers brushed over the sensitive skin that had moments before been attached to Quin McKee causing a smile and a blush to flush her body from head to toe.

Quin had entered the large master suite to find the bedroom empty. She heard the shower come on and deduced that Vivian was in the bathroom. She was a PI after all, and deduction was her forte. She gave a quick whiff to herself by lifting her shirt from her chest and inhaling deeply. Not bad, she thought, but a quick shower in the hall bathroom wouldn't hurt. She gathered a soft white t-shirt and headed off.

Vivian emerged from the bathroom expecting to find a waiting Quin. Instead she found an empty bedroom. She was slightly disappointed her grand nude entrance was a bust. A small sigh escaped her lips as she went to her bag that was perched on a small couch in the seating area of the room. She rummaged until she found a simple white tank top and pulled it on. She also found her last pair of clean underwear. She had just pulled them on when she heard Quin's comment as the brunette entered the room and crossed toward her.

"Hmmmm, cotton briefs... I like a girl who is all about comfort." Quin finished toweling her hair with her good arm. Her right shoulder was still a little tender for such activity as she found out when she first tried the maneuver in the bathroom. She tossed the towel onto the floor, making a mental note to pick it up in the morning. She continued her stride toward the blonde.

Vivian blushed a bit in embarrassment, again cursing herself for not having something sexier. She tugged at the hem of her tank top.

Quin reached out and stopped her. "Hey, come on…" She took Vivian's hands in her own and brought them to her lips, kissing each one in turn. "I like them, have a whole drawer full of them in fact." She released Vivian's hands and replaced hers on the blonde's hips hooking her thumbs in the elastic waistband of the plain white underwear. "Besides, I don't think you'll need them until morning." Her hands moved around and inside the cotton barrier. She tilted her head and captured Vivian's lips at the same time. They shared a delicious moan as their bodies melded together and Vivian found her self being maneuvered backwards toward the bed.

As they fell into the soft feather bed together, facing one another, Vivian came to her senses. "Wait!" She raised her hand and gently pressed Quin's injured shoulder creating a little space between them. "I want to talk for a bit."

"The communicate thing from earlier?" Quin asked.

"Yup. Comfy?" A quick nod answered in the affirmative. "Okay. Now…" She reached out and brushed a shaggy bang from Quin's forehead, "…What's your favorite color?"

Quin looked puzzled.

"It's not a hard question Quin. What's your favorite color?" Vivian questioned again.

"Blue." Quin answered softly.

"Mine is dark green. What's your favorite morning drink?"

Quin smiled, "Pepsi."

Vivian's nose wrinkled, "Pepsi?" A one shoulder shrug was her only clarification. "Fine. What's your favorite flower?"

"Wait. You didn't say your favorite morning drink." Quin admonished.

"Oh right. Coffee, black."

"That's so butch." The brunette teased warming up to the conversation. "Snap Dragons."

"It is not butch. It's a requirement of life. My flower is Violets."

Quin was furiously making mental notes, "What about your favorite male and female actors?"

Vivian grinned, "Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. I would give birth to either one of their love child."

Quin laughed out loud.

"What?" Vivian blushed as the PI kept laughing. "Aww, come on Quin."

The brunette relented with one last little giggle, "That was so cute. Umm, Katherine Hepburn and Cary Grant, and I seem to be too late for birthing love children." Another round of giggles ensued from the PI.

Vivian slapped Quin playfully on the hip, "You're mean." She whined, but was unable to stop the smile that crept onto her lips.

Quin settled down again, "Sorry. Let me think of another one." She reached over and ran her index finger across the skin of Vivian's collarbone taking note of the slight shiver she caused. "Favorite smell?"

Vivian allowed the touch as she thought, "Sage."

"Vanilla." Quin smiled as Vivian mirrored her touch, she cursed the t-shirt that was between her and feeling Vivian's touch directly.

Vivian smiled softly, "I need to tell you something." Quin's smile started to fade, "It's not bad." She added. "I don't think its bad anyway, but it is important." Clear gray eyes blinked at her in silence. "Okay, so I'll just say it right? I mean I was the one who started this whole communication thing right?" A blank silent stare answered her. Sheesh Vivian out with it already, you're scaring her half to death! "I love you." Silence. "I mean, I am in love with you."

Quin shook her head as if to clear it. Then a smile started to form and she felt her eyes begin to swell with tears. "I need to buy a lottery ticket in the morning."

Vivian frowned, confused by the brunette's reaction.

Quin cupped her lover's cheek and sniffled as she lost her composure for the second time that day. She made sure to lock gazes with Vivian. "I'm the luckiest person alive to find and know love twice in a lifetime." She smiled softly through her tears, "I'm in love with you Vivian Walsh." There wasn't much space to cross to seal her oath with a kiss.

Vivian melted into the intimate contact as her heart raced with the knowledge that Quin returned her love. She didn't know when she was divested of her top, or exactly how Quin's left hand had found its way past her underwear. She just knew that it all felt wonderful. Better than wonderful. Vivian was hard pressed to think of a word to describe just how it felt. Her hands had their own agenda. Quin wasn't wearing any underwear, so the task of unclothing the brunette was a simple matter of breaking contact long enough to yank the yard of cotton over Quin's head.

Quin growled then groaned as she was maneuvered by Vivian to disengage her hand from the very warm, moist, place she had decided she wanted to stay forever. The cool air of the room chilled her wet fingers while her t-shirt was not so gently pulled over her head, catching on her ears and receiving an extra hard tug before it finally found its way to someplace on the floor. She looked down on Vivian and decided the detectives remaining garment had to go now, because she wasn't going to be interrupted again. She sat and simply took in the curves and angles of Vivian's womanly form fully exposed before her. Then her hands and mouth traced the path her eyes had just blazed.

A long, languid moan passed Vivian's lips ending in a whispered plea of more of everything that Quin was doing. Something was different this time. Something more was happening. Vivian's analytical mind raced with pleasure and questions. She decided to go with pleasure as Quin's tongue traced the curve of her ear.

Quin's nervousness faded with every moan and every shiver that Vivian elicited. She had only ever made love to one other woman in her entire life. She had been worried if she would be able to give Vivian everything she deserved, everything she wanted. It seemed that love was all she felt and was all she was able to channel at the moment as she did her best to physically manifest that one overpowering emotion. She could feel Vivian tighten around her fingers and wanted so much to reach the pinnacle with the blonde. A slight shift down. A leg lifted and draped over a firm thigh. A rhythm as old as time. "Come with me." She said through clenched teeth.

Powerless to do anything but comply with the request, Vivian arched and went rigid as the wave of ecstasy crashed over her. The blonde detective registered Quin's release just seconds later. Their breathing seemed to cease for a few moments. Total silence engulfed them for a long moment. Then almost at the same instance they both gasped for air, collapsing back to the mattress and clinging to each other as they whispered words of love.

Tom Ross fidgeted in his seat as he stared at the empty desk across from him. This was his first day back to work off leave and Vivian's final Psych interview before she would be released to return to duty. Then it's back to business as usual. He thought as he picked up a retractable pen and began clicking it, settling into a beat that matched the song stuck in his head. Who knew Blondie songs could get imbedded into one's brain so easily? A sharp fwap of a box hitting the desktop opposite him interrupted his personal meanderings. "What's this?" He asked Vivian as the blonde started to unceremoniously began to shove her personal effects off the desktop into the box.

"I'm not fit for duty." The sentence was bitter.

Tom stopped in mid click, "What?"

"I'm not fit for duty. It seems that my lack of remorse for killing Franklin means I'm incapable of performing my job." She moved onto emptying drawers. "Fuck them. The bastard had ruined the lives of dozens… hundreds even. He murdered a police detective and her unborn child." The drawers slammed shut, "I Quit!"

Tom stood and rushed around the joined desks, "Viv, come on now, take a few weeks to decide."

Vivian grabbed up her box, "A few weeks? No. I know what I want to do. I don't need to think any more." She paused then set the box down. She gathered Tom into a fierce hug, "I'll never be able to repay your kindness. You'll always be my best friend." She kissed him softly on his rough cheek. "I'll call you in few weeks. I need some time." She had the mind to place her service revolver and badge on her desk before once again taking up her box. She left without another word.

Quin sipped at the pot of simmering chili that she had been cooking on for the last three hours. She let the spicy gravy set on her tongue for a bit to ascertain her next seasoning move. A dash of cayenne and a bit of salt went into the pot. She stirred it and took another taste. "Perfect." She declared as she moved to the large chopping block to finish grating cheese and chopping additional onions. A timer went off on the oven signaling that the corn bread was finished. She checked her watch for the time as she answered the timer and shut off the oven. She cracked the oven door a bit to let the heat out, leaving the corn bread to stay warm. Now all she needed was a lunch partner.

Vivian sat in her car a few doors down from Quin's house. She had pulled over at first to gather herself. A minute turned into thirty minutes. She finally questioned herself as to why she was stalling. Was she going to have to defend her decision to quit to Quin? Would Quin judge her? She sighed, it doesn't really matter what she thinks does it? It's not like we're living together. She narrowed her eyes at herself in the visor mirror, "Coward." So I quit my job. She shrugged. There are other jobs. She reasoned. Maybe she'll take me on as a partner. "Ha!" Not with the ever trusty Quang at her side, she doesn't need me. Sigh. "Fuck." She pounded the steering wheel. Okay, okay…let's get it over with. She started the car and pulled two houses down and into the long drive making her way to the back. She parked in her now customary place and paused once again.

Quin smiled at hearing Vivian's car pull up. She set the small kitchen table and placed the chili and cornbread in easy reach to the two place settings. She poured two large glasses of iced tea, setting out the sugar bowl next to Vivian's place. She smiled to herself then adjusted the napkins and silverware so that everything was perfect. Then she waited.

And waited.

Her smile faded to a thin line. She went to the back door. She moved the curtain aside and peered at Vivian's car. She could see the detective sitting in the driver's seat. She watched for another five minutes before grabbing her sweater and exiting the house.

Vivian startled at the tap on the window. She couldn't help but smile at her lover who motioned for her to roll down her window. "Hi." She greeted thinking she sounded lame.

"Hi back at ya." Quin replied as she looked past Vivian at the box on the passenger seat. She blinked twice in understanding then smiled at the blonde, "I cooked." She informed, "Chili and corn bread."

Vivian could feel tears well up in her eyes, "I ummm… I quit." She tapped the box next to her with her hand, "All I have to show for fifteen years."

Quin pulled on the door handle, swinging the door open, "You have plenty to show." She extended her hand inside the car, happy that Vivian didn't hesitate to take it. She pulled gently and the detective followed. "Want to bring that in?" Quin motioned to the box.

"Naaa, I can get it later." The tears that had threatened to fall seemed to disappear.

"Okay." Quin closed the car door after rolling up the window. "Lunch is getting cold."

"Mmmm." Vivian vocalized, as another muscle seemed to relax under Quin's touch. "Don't you want to know what happened today?" She asked dreamily as the heel of Quin's palm worked a knot out of her lower back.

"You'll tell me when you're ready."

"I have to admit I'm kind of surprised by your lack of interest." Vivian murmured.

"I know you did what was best for you." Quin frowned as she came across another knot. "You need to relax your back Vivian, or this won't work." She felt the blonde sigh beneath her. "Better." She commended.

"The Psych said I was remorseless. She said I need to re-examine my ethics and morals. Turns out I may not be very empathetic towards the criminal element."

"Shoot first; ask questions later?"

Vivian hissed as Quin hit a sore spot just under her shoulder blades. "Something like that."

"Is that how you feel? Act before thinking?"

"Isn't that what you do?" Vivian retorted a bit harshly.

Quin's hands paused. "Are we going to talk about me now?" She sat back on her heels still straddling Vivian's thighs. She took a deep breath. "Okay. Let's talk about me." She rolled Vivian onto her back and settled back onto the blonde's thighs. "We're talking about what I do right?" Receiving an affirmative nod she continued. "What I do is cross every line drawn. I break rules. I put myself and those around me in danger and hope for the best." She leaned down until she was sharing air with Vivian. "What I do is reckless disregard for the written law." She snarled, "I am not a cop with an oath. I'm a private citizen."

Vivian flinched. "I…"

Quin placed her fingers over Vivian's lips. "NO. You listen to me Ms. Walsh. You turned this conversation this way so you listen to me." She removed her hand, "I am not anything like you. You are the law. You live and breathe it. You protect it and cherish it. Do I think you would shoot someone without thinking, without knowing the truth?" Quin paused and made sure that she had Vivian's full attention. "I don't believe for one moment you would act before thinking." She then softens her tone "You don't feel remorse for killing Franklin." She leaned in and stole a soft kiss. "You feel what you feel. Remorse is probably low on the list as far as Franklin is concerned. I know I feel nothing but satisfaction, fucker got what was coming to him." She stole another kiss. "When you figure out what you feel then you'll be at peace about it. Until then I'll be right here, and after you decide I'll still be here. Now flip over so I can finish."

Vivian leaned up and indulged in a long kiss before turning back onto her tummy and relaxing into Quin's touch. "I love you." She proclaimed softly as she finally let the tension of the day go.

Quin smiled and placed a kiss on Vivian's shoulder, "I love you too. Now quiet, I'm working here." And work she did until Vivian fell asleep. She joined her lover in blissful slumber moments later.

Vivian woke slowly the next morning. She rolled away from the sunlight that was streaming through the curtains at the head of the bed. She nearly rolled off the edge of the bed in her endeavor to escape the bright rays. She risked one eye and was greeted by a large alarm clock that shouted at her with large red numbers that it was one pm in the afternoon. She has to think on that a moment until it registered that she had been sleeping for nearly fourteen hours. Her bladder made itself known and she grudgingly got out of bed. She tested her legs and back and found that for the first time in months she felt nothing but rested. Gone were her aches and pains. She smiled to herself and filed the skill of masseuse as one of Quin's top reasons she was a keeper. A quick bathroom trip and an equally quick hunt for clothing of any kind had her ready to meet the day. Well what was left of the day…. She found Anthony in the kitchen working on a large ledger at the kitchen table. "Where is everyone?" she asked as she tested the side of the coffee pot to see if it was still hot, finding it with sufficient heat she poured herself a cup in her mug. Quin had designated the large blue mug as her own personal coffee container. She smelled the dark liquid letting the bitter steam fill her lungs before taking the first sip.

"People sometimes get out of bed before one in the afternoon, and then they have places to go and things to do." Anthony watched the detective and shivered as she took the first drink of the black coffee that had been standing on a hot plate for eight hours. "You people are heathens, dip coffee makers and that pathetic over ground dirt you call coffee is an abomination."

Vivian took a long drink and licked her lips letting an exaggerated ‘yum' ease from her mouth.

Anthony snorted in disgust. "There's a letter for you." He held up a plain white envelope.

Vivian eased into a chair beside the dark man. "Who's it from?"

"I think if you open it you'll find out."

Vivian scowled "Fine." She took the envelope as she sat at the table. She regarded the young man across from her, "Want to talk about it?"

Anthony pursed his lips and shook his head. "I'll be okay."

"Does Quang know how you feel?" Vivian asked as she slipped her finger under the edge of the loosely sealed envelope opening it.

"He's with Maggie. He's also so wrapped up in the custody case."

The detective nodded knowing that much of Quang's time was being devoted to a new romance and the possibility of gaining custody of his little girl. Vivian smiled softly opening the letter inside and recognizing Quin's eloquent script. "He and everyone else wonder why you're being so snippy and sometimes, especially to Maggie, downright mean."

Anthony flinched. "I didn't realize."

Vivian took the dark man's hand, "Talk to Quang, stop blaming Mags. She's a good person. I'll admit it threw me a bit seeing them together, Maggie comes off a little…"

"Butch?" Anthony offered.

Vivian laughed, "Well yes, stern would work too. I really thought she was family." She scratched the side of her head, "But just because I don't see the attraction between the two doesn't mean that I will interfere, and it also means that I won't treat either of them like crap for simply breathing. This is your problem Anthony."

Anthony nodded, "And to think I didn't want to talk about this." He squeezed the blonde's hand, "Thanks Vivian.

"You're welcome Anthony."

"Ummm, how did you know what it was?"

"That you're pining away for Quang? Easy, you're family." She laid the letter in her hand flat on the table and took up her coffee mug again and started to read.

Vivian,

I was called away this morning on business. A car will arrive about 2pm to pick you up. You don't need anything. I love you and will see you soon.

Q.

She glanced up at the clock on the wall, "Fuck, its nearly two now!" She stood nearly knocking over her coffee mug that was expertly fielded by Anthony. There was a polite knock to the back door. "Fuck!" She threw up her hands and stepped to the back door. She yanked it open startling the young woman standing there in full chauffer regalia.

"Ms. Walsh?" The little blonde asked.

"Shit. Yes. I'm not ready."

"Ms. McKee said to bring you as you are." The chauffer looked her up and down, smirking at the Sponge Bob pajama bottoms and pink fuzzy slippers.

Vivian placed her hands on her hips and tapped one of the fuzzy slippers. "Ms. McKee huh?" She looked over her shoulder at Anthony who offered a shrug. Vivian's eyes closed and she sighed, "Okay Okay." She conceded, "Let's go." She walked out the door following the little blonde who led her to a large beige Bentley. She whistled low, "Ms. McKee knows how to hire a car."

"Oh it's not hired." The chauffer informed while opening the back door of the car, "It belongs to her."

Vivian's eyebrows rose, "Oh really? And I suppose you work for her exclusively?"

"Yes ma'am. When Ms. McKee is in the Los Angeles area I coordinate her transportation." She waited for Vivian to settle in the back of the car then closed the door.

Vivian let her hand wander over the soft leather of the back seat that seemed to be warmed from below. In fact the interior of the car was a perfectly comfortable temperature. The driver settled into her seat on the right side of the car. "Ms. McKee is something else." She said to herself as the car pulled from the drive. She let her self relax and enjoy the ride. It wasn't long before they pulled into a back gate at LAX. Soon the car came to a stop inside a large hanger. Her car door was opened moments later. She stepped out and found the air suddenly cold. Before she could complain there was a jacket just her size being wrapped around her shoulders. "Thanks, I'm sorry I didn't get your name."

"Gwen." The woman offered. And held out her arm indicating where Vivian was to go.

Vivian moved in the direction indicated. As they made their way through the hanger Vivian recognized the classic Thunderbird she drove on Thanksgiving, she paused as they came upon the bullet ridden Chevelle. "Is it going to be fixed?" She asked.

"Yes ma'am. I'll be starting on the repairs next week. It'll be good as new."

Vivian smiled and nodded as she started walking again, "So you're in charge of all these cars?" She indicated the hanger space with a wave of hand. They passed a trio of classic Corvettes and Vivian whistled once again in appreciation eliciting a giggle from the petite blonde next to her. Her jaw simply dropped as they exited the hanger they were in into the adjoining hanger where several restored WWII fighter planes stood on polished concrete. Each plane had its own spotlight. "Holy crap! Are these hers too?"

Gwen nodded "She likes her toys."

"I wouldn't call them toys. Do they work?" She asked as she skimmed her fingers over the wing of a plane.

"Yes ma'am. She had the Mustang up just this morning." Gwen pointed to the shiny aircraft just yards away.

"No shit?" Vivian asked. There were obviously many things she didn't know about her lover.

"No shit, ma'am." Gwen replied with a grin.

They continued their walk until they exited the hanger. Sitting on the tarmac in front of the building was a sleek Leer Jet. The engines were on creating a loud whine. Vivian looked at her escort who simply motioned for her to ascend the steps that were extended from the plane.

"Enjoy your flight ma'am. I imagine we will meet again. Have a nice Holiday." The chauffer projected above the noise of the jet.

Vivian climbed the steps and the stairs along with the door closed behind her, all of the sudden it was very quiet. She could still hear the whine of the engines, but it was seriously muted as opposed to the noise outside. She looked about the lavish cabin and shook her head. Quin McKee was a stranger to her. She was startled by a quiet ‘hey' as the stranger in question entered the cabin from what she assumed was the cockpit of the plane. "Hey yourself." She replied while settling on the leather sofa. Quin sat next to her. She turned and looked at the woman she thought she was doing so well at figuring out. A thin frown laid claim to her lips.

"What's wrong?" Quin asked as the plane moved forward a bit. She reached across Vivian and fastened her seat belt.

Vivian scowled, "I can't pin point just one thing. Maybe I can start with why I'm on a private jet with no clue where I'm going."

Quin strapped herself in, "I wanted to whisk you away for Christmas, and we're going to Chicago."

Vivian's frown deepened, "You could have asked me."

"What's the fun in that?" Quin smiled nudging Vivian's shoulder with her own. Her smile faded as Vivian's frown persisted. She reached to a table at the end of the sofa and picked up a phone. She said two words and the plane came to a stop. "I'm sorry. Ruth kind of indicated you didn't have family and I thought you might like to meet mine. As insane and inappropriate they are, I thought it would be fun."

Vivian sighed, "It sounds like fun. But asking me would have been better." She took Quin's hand, "I've never been on a plane." She chuckled, "I have never been out of the state."

"Well, umm… we could drive if you don't like to fly." Quin offered.

Vivian laughed, "Quin, how would I know if I like it or not?"

Quin smiled, "Point taken. Okay how about this. We'll fly there, if you hate it we'll drive back. Fair?"

The blonde nodded and smiled, "Fair." She agreed. "Get this plane rolling again." She ordered. Quin complied with another phone call. She held tight to the brunette's hand as they rumbled down the runway and rose smoothly into the air. She let out a held breath and smiled at her lover who was watching her closely. She smiled and nodded indicating she was okay. "We need to talk Ms. McKee."

Quin shrugged her shoulders, "Okay."

"Well say something Quin. Tell me about all this." Vivian waved her hands indicating the aircraft, but was actually indicating much more.

"I'd thought Tom and Ruth would have told you."

"Tell me what exactly? That you're some sort of millionaire playgirl with more money than sense? Sheesh Quin, I really haven't got a clue here. I get a note, get hustled off by a little blond tart, get the nickel tour of the classic car and aircraft hall of fame, then hurried onto a friggin private jet where I find my lover dressed in an impeccable Armani suit, chilling champagne, and ready to sweep me off to Chicago for the holidays. If they had this information and didn't tell me, then I need to rethink my friendship with them. There is a fair warning clause to unconditional friendships isn't there?"

Quin stared in dismay at the babbling woman next to her. Once Vivian had finished her tirade she was at a loss as to which question to address first. She swallowed heavily then squared her shoulders. "I'm not a playgirl."

Vivian gaped at the brunette. She tried to speak but was unable to form a sentence. She finally sat back into the couch and crossed her arms.

"I'm sorry Vivian." Quin said softly unhooking her seatbelt and moving to one of two leather chairs in the cabin.

Vivian examined what had just occurred to her in the last hour. She questioned why she was acting the way she was. What was so wrong with being swept off her feet, literally, for a winter holiday? She admitted she would have preferred to been asked, but the surprise was okay, and she would like to know more about Quin McKee. Meeting her family would be nice. She shook her head and looked over at the obviously pouting woman across from her. She unhooked her seatbelt and grabbed up the champagne bottle along with the two glasses. It was just a couple of steps before she was in front of Quin. "Hey. Ummm… I'm sorry for over reacting. I'm just a bit overwhelmed, and there seems to be a lot…" she looked about the opulent cabin, "… and I mean a lot that I don't know about you Ms. McKee. So how about we open this bottle and you start filling in some of the big holes, so when we get to Chicago you're family won't think I'm some sort of gold digger."

Quin looked sideways at the tall blonde. Vivian smiled at her and she couldn't help but smile back. "I'm sorry. I should have asked you and I should have told you more about myself." She received a soft kiss for her admission. "I'm not sure where to begin."

Vivian worked the champagne open and poured the two glasses offering one to Quin. "Just give me enough background so I can get through dinner." She tapped her glass against Quin's.

Quin smiled and started her tale. Vivian made a mental note to kick Tom Ross's butt when she saw him next. He certainly could have filled me in on some tiny details. Oh well, to experience life one must live it. Vivian Walsh was about to live a whole lot of life.

END of

BOOK ONE