Violence Disclaimer: Yeah, some of that in here. Nothing real graphic, I don't think, but it does involve some not-so-nice high school kids.

Language Disclaimer: Okay, so she really tries not to curse, but it just slips out! Definitely some language in here, especially when one of the main characters gets ticked off.

Sex Disclaimer: This is alternative fiction, meaning it involves the idea of two women in love - with each other! If this bothers you, this story may not be for you, although there is absolutely nothing graphic.

Thanks: Thanks to my friends Charlene, Tina, AJ, and Amanda for the support and encouragement. You guys are great. More thanks and love to my best friend and beta, Amber, who puts up (not so patiently! <grin>) with my cliffhangers. Love you all.

Author's Note: For those of you who have noticed that I've been posting a lot of stories lately, this may be my last year to post anything for a while. If my plans for the future go through, I'll be off to college, and probably won't have a chance to post or write much. You can email me at Y02Mustang@AOL.com if you feel the need for the whole story, but I will do my best to complete the works I have in progress before that point. There are a lot of them, so be prepared! Thank you all for your support and feedback.

A clay pot sitting in the sun will always be a clay pot. It has to go through the white heat of the furnace to become porcelain.

- Mildred White Stouven

Part 3 (Conclusion)

Having made up with my girlfriend over the weekend, the next week passed by almost too wonderfully. Damon was actually gone during the day on Wednesday and Thursday, so I was able to take Mary Jane out to lunch with me both days. It was nice to go somewhere and know she wouldn't get in trouble for it. On Friday I got a true laugh out of her, by reaching out to lightly tickle her stomach when she wasn't expecting it, but the sparkle in her emerald eyes told me she really enjoyed it. I figured it had been a while since she'd actually laughed because of someone being gentle with her.

Then, on Sunday, we happened to choose a movie that no one else wanted to see - we were the only ones in the theater. Nothing could have been better. We were able to hold hands and cuddle and kiss without having to worry about being caught, or being given dirty looks. I still have no clue what movie it was, or what happened. I was too busy appreciating the teasing side of my girlfriend, as Mary Jane began to throw an occasional kernel of popcorn at me, until we were in an all-out food fight.

I realized she had really opened up to me, and felt much more relaxed when we were together. She wasn't afraid to reach over and poke me in the side for a smart-ass comment, or lightly tug on my shirt when she was in the mood for a hug… it was nice to know that she was no longer afraid to really be herself. That meant the world to me.

Of course, all good things must come to an end, unfortunately, and Andrew brought about that end. I was heading outside to meet Mary Jane for lunch, thinking of all the fun we'd been having, and debating over whether or not to give her the small trinket I'd found a few days before in the jewelry department. It was just a necklace with a small charm on it in the shape of a rose, but I felt the need to buy it. The only question now was when I should give it to her.

"All right, Bailey. Last chance," stated Andrew, standing before me, startling me out of my rather pleasant thoughts. That fact alone was enough to make me frown.

"What the hell do you want?" I demanded.

"Mary Jane." My eyes narrowed as my temper flared. "I know she's quiet and all, but I'll bring her out of her shell," he sneered.

It was all I could do to keep from dislocating the hips he was thrusting suggestively. That was my girlfriend he was talking about, and he was very lucky I didn't do something irreversible, like kill him.

Instead, I spat, "Stay away from her, Andrew. I mean it. Don't touch her."

He grinned obnoxiously, and I suddenly realized I was surrounded; about a dozen of his friends had closed in around us. "I hear she's kind of shy, Bailey. Maybe all she needs is a really good fuck, you think?"

"Take that back, Turnkey. I'm warning you," I cautioned him, my voice low.

"Oh, come on, Bailey," he chuckled. "I have it on high authority that she's a pretty sweet lay - ask her brother." He leaned closer and whispered, so only I could hear, "I was there, watching. You should have heard her scream."

That did it; I snapped. All the discipline I'd been calling upon to restrain myself flew out the window, and I lunged for him, screaming, "You fucking little shit!" I got a solid punch or two in to his gut before three guys pulled me off, and held my arms.

Cocky as all get out now that he thought I was caught, Andrew walked right up to me, grinning. "I'll tell you what I'll do, Bailey. Just for you, I'll send you a video, how does that sound? So you can watch me fuck her 'til she bleeds."

Bringing my knee up hard between his legs, I hissed, "Rot in hell, you goddamn bastard," as he dropped like a rock. In an instant, they all rushed me, and I still can't recall exactly what happened. It was a blur of hands, fists, elbows, and feet, but I felt my lip split open and had the air knocked out of me twice.

A few minutes passed, maybe not quite that long, I'm not sure, and several teachers entered the fray and pulled us apart. When I saw the damage I'd done, I smiled inwardly. Three had bloody noses, two were holding their hands in pain, and one was still on the ground. Four were nowhere to be seen.

My lip and stomach hurt, but other than that, I was fine.

"What's going on here?" roared Mr. Heath, and I sighed.

"Andrew and I got into a little argument," I stated, heavily.

He looked around, disapprovingly. "And the others?"

"They decided to put their two cents in."

"All of you involved are suspended for two days. Mr. Turnkey and Miss Smith, that's three days for you," the principal decreed, and spun on his heel, leaving the teachers to disperse the crowd and take us into Mr. Heath's office. He didn't have to say anything; we all knew what was expected.

After being grilled for an explanation no one gave, we were released individually to get our things and leave for the rest of the day. Andrew had to stay a bit longer, to make an appointment to see the board, to explain to them why he shouldn't be expelled for all the trouble he'd gotten into; I couldn't think of one damned reason.

Just as I started down the hallway, as fate would have it, I ran into Mary Jane, who'd apparently come searching for me when I didn't meet her under the tree.

She gasped when she saw my lip. "Bailey! What happened?" she asked, lovingly and discreetly taking my hand as she lightly wiped away some of the blood. I'd tried to clean it up in the nurse's office, but it had apparently opened again.

I sighed, my stomach in knots as I ignored her query for the time, and prepared myself to ask a question I never really wanted answered. "Mary Jane, did Damon ever… did he… I mean, did he do anything more than hit you?" I stammered, and watched her green eyes flood with realization.

Quietly, she replied, "No, Bailey, not in so many words." Why didn't that sound good? "He never… touched me in that way, if that's what you mean. But he would -"

I cut her off, gently. "MJ, I need to go, and here is not the place for this. I do want to know," I think, "but later, okay?" I requested, already feeling ill. I really didn't feel like finding out precisely what else Damon had done to the heaven-sent blonde before me, but if she were willing to talk, I'd listen. I'd told her she could always talk to me, about anything, and hard as it would be, I would stand by that promise, by God.

My mention of leaving seemed to remind her something was wrong. "So, what happened to you?"

"Andrew was being an ass, and got us and a couple of other kids suspended."

"Oh, Bailey, you didn't," she breathed. I nodded. "What did he say?"

I shook my head, and refused to tell her. "Listen, I have to leave. I'm suspended for three days, so I won't be at lunch with you until Monday, okay?"

"Bailey, why won't you tell me?" When I shook my head again, she met my gaze. "Was it about me?" she questioned, evenly, knowing the feelings Andrew harbored for her. I looked away, giving her the answer.

"Why?"

I turned my head so our eyes met again. "I will not stand back and let anyone speak badly about any of my friends, and most especially you," I stated. "I warned him, MJ, but he wouldn't quit. I had to do something."

Standing on her tiptoes to give me a gentle hug, I felt all my anger melt away when she placed a soft kiss on my cheek, whispering, "Thank you for protecting me." Pulling back, so as not to linger too long and raise suspicions, she continued, "But I don't like seeing you hurt. Please, go home and rest. You'll feel better if you put ice on your lip, okay?"

I smiled; as best I could, anyhow. "Thank you, MJ. I promise. I'll see you Monday, if not before," I said, wanting so badly to reassure her with a kiss, but knowing I couldn't.

"What are you going to tell your dad?" she asked, quietly, before I turned to go.

"About what?"

"About why you got in a fight," Mary Jane clarified, on the verge of exasperation.

I paused. "I've never lied to my dad before, Mary Jane, and I don't plan to start now," I replied, carefully. I knew she was worried about my dad's acceptance, or lack thereof, of our relationship.

"But, Bailey…"

I reached out and gently ran my fingers through her hair, no longer caring who saw, though I had unconsciously made sure no one was in sight. I knew she liked it, it relaxed her, and I couldn't resist. She instantly fell silent, and I smiled, warmly.

"Easy, sweetheart," I soothed, lowly, not even noticing what I'd called her. "Everything will be okay, don't worry. Now, I really need to head out. You said Damon's going to be out tonight, right? Why don't I call you about five, before I leave for Karate, all right?"

She accepted this, and once again suggested ice for my lip before releasing my hand and letting me go. With a small wave, I grabbed my backpack and took a deep breath as I made my way out to the parking lot, feeling strange going home at only noon.

I drove up into the driveway and threw my Explorer into park, angry again, as Andrew's words echoed ceaselessly in my mind.

"If the coward wouldn't have brought his friends, I'd have kicked his sorry ass until his nose hurt," I growled to myself, absently offering Soda a small pat as I breezed through the doorway, collapsing onto the couch with a heavy sigh.

"I've never been in trouble before, Soda," I said, complaining to my dog, who listened with a sympathetic ear to all I had to say, snorting at my statement. "Okay, so I've gotten in trouble for making a mess of things," I amended, "but not like this. I've never been suspended before."

My dad's voice startled me. "You're suspended?" he cried, coming out from the kitchen, a half-eaten bologna sandwich in his hand. I gulped, audibly, and nodded. "For what?"

"Fighting," I admitted, and he sat down in the chair across from me. "What are you doing home so early?"

He sighed. "I stopped by for lunch, but I've got to be getting back pretty soon. We'll discuss this when I get home, Bailey," he stated, in a no-nonsense tone that left no room for doubt, and I agreed as he walked out the door.

"Well, that's just fucking wonderful," I sighed, and Soda whined disapprovingly at my choice of words. "So much for explaining it to him in my own time. Damn it."

To say I was a nervous wreck is an understatement; I was much more anxious than I thought, apprehensive of my dad's return and therefore the discussion that was sure to follow. I couldn't see him getting too angry, but I could definitely believe he'd be a bit taken aback or even repulsed for a moment. I mean, homosexuals were not very open in our town, so it wasn't as if he had a reason to view it as… well, normal.

So, it was for this reason that the sound of my dad's truck pulling into the garage found me pacing in the living room. I knew Mary Jane was right, and my dad would want to know why I got into a fight, but I also knew I couldn't lie to him about it. After almost three years in high school, I got the feeling that tonight my dad would learn why I'd never brought home any boyfriends.

"Let me clean up a bit, Doc. Then we'll have that talk," he said as he walked down the hall, and I agreed with a nod of my head. Running my hands through my long black hair in anticipation, I idly thought it was time for me to get a small trim.

Just as my knee began bouncing in my nervousness, my dad emerged from the bathroom with a look on his face that told me he wasn't looking forward to our conversation any more than I was… though for completely different reasons, I'm sure.

My dad sat down in the recliner facing me, taking a deep breath as if to collect his thoughts before speaking. "You've never been one to get into trouble, Bailey, but suddenly you're suspended for fighting. Why?" he asked, and I got the distinct impression that he felt he was somehow at fault.

"Dad… it was just something that I felt I had to do."

"Was it over a boy?" he questioned, and I snorted.

"No."

He grinned a little, only trying to lighten the atmosphere, I'm sure. "Was it over a girl?" I said nothing, but met his gaze, the look in my eyes and my silence giving him my answer.

Shifting a little nervously in his seat, he continued, "Why don't you tell me what happened?"

I sighed. "Do you remember Mary Jane?" I began, and my dad nodded. "And do you remember how I'd always tell you we were going to the movies to hang out?" Again, he nodded. "I've never lied to you before, dad, and like I told Mary Jane, I'm not going to start now. Mary Jane and I did go to the movies, but we went on a date. We're together, dad."

"You mean as a couple?" he clarified, and I nodded.

I decided to tell him everything. "We have been for about a month now, and today one of the guys at school decided to tell me he wanted to go out with her so he could… well, do some not so nice things to her," I snarled, remembering exactly what had been said.

"I tried to get him to stop, but when he began throwing around some very degrading terms, I had to make him quit. I'll admit that I took the first swing, but he provoked me, and Mr. Heath stopped us before I could do too much damage to him or his friends," I explained, evenly.

"His friends? They ganged up on you?" he demanded, and I nodded.

"Yeah, there were at least a half-dozen of them with him," I confirmed.

"Why didn't you tell me about Mary Jane earlier?"

"I was worried about how you'd react… and I still am," I confessed, honestly. "I mean, not that I think you'd disown me," I assured him, thinking of Mary Jane's parents' reaction. "I just figured you'd be upset."

With a small smile, my dad shook his head at me. "Bailey, these last few months, I've watched you go through a change for the better. You've started going out more, smiling and laughing more, and just being happier all the way around. And if Mary Jane is the cause, then I'm happy for you.

"All I want is for you to be happy, sweetheart, and if that means being with Mary Jane, then so be it."

"Thanks, Dad," I breathed, relieved.

"I do have one slight problem, however."

I became mildly alarmed. "What?"

My dad gave me an impish half-smirk as he cocked an eyebrow. "Well, I've always thought I'd have to warn the guys to be good to my daughter, but now I guess I'll have to let the girls know that I'll hunt them down if they hurt my baby girl. On the other hand, I don't have to worry about you getting pregnant if you stay out late on a date," he chuckled, and my eyes bulged.

"Dad!" I cried, and he laughed heartily at my stunned expression. When he beckoned me over for a hug, I eagerly complied, feeling extremely relieved to know my dad accepted my lifestyle.

"How about inviting Mary Jane over for dinner? I'd like to let her know I know, so she won't worry," he offered, kindly, and I agreed.

"I was going to call her before I left, anyhow. As long as there's no embarrassing talks, Dad," I cautioned.

His eyes squinted as he laughed again. "Hey, no promises, Bailey! Just invite her, will you? I'll cook steaks on the grill, and you can pick her up after your Karate practice." After a pause, he continued, "Doc, do I want to know what the kid said that set you off?"

My reply was immediate. "No," I stated, as I dialed Mary Jane's number, and waited patiently for her to pick up.

"Wilcox residence," she greeted, and I smiled at the sound of her voice.

"Hi, MJ."

"Hello." Her short and even answer told me she was not alone, and so was unable to say my name. In the few times I'd called, I'd gotten used to it.

"What are you doing for dinner tonight?" I questioned, and she was quiet for a moment. "Is Damon there?"

"Yes," she replied, and I sighed.

That just sucked. "Will he be leaving anytime soon? Say, by seven o'clock or so?" was my next inquiry, and the young woman responded that it was a very real possibility. "Would you like to come have dinner over here with me and my dad?"

I could almost hear the wheels turning in her head as she considered my request. "Yes, but I don't know…"

I interrupted her, softly. "Do you think you could get out of there at seven-thirty? I could pick you up when I get out of class," I suggested, and she sighed into the phone.

"You don't have to," I murmured, taking the breath as a sign of reluctance.

"No, I do!" she protested, before I could continue. "Yes, that will be fine." I assumed Damon was in the room, or nearby, so she couldn't say anything more.

I understood. "Okay, MJ. I'll see you at seven-thirty, then, all right?" When she agreed, I hung up, and told my dad to expect us about a quarter 'til eight. I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as I walked out the door, duffel bag in hand.

I was not the least bit surprised when Sensei Moorland pulled me aside after class. I knew what she was going to say - the looks she'd been shooting at me all night spoke volumes in and of themselves. I stood obediently at attention as I prepared to be scolded.

"What happened to you?"

"I got in a fight," I admitted, knowing she was not going to be happy at the news.

An eyebrow was raised slightly - damn, I didn't know she could do that! "Since when do we solve our problems with fists?"

I swallowed. "I didn't want to, Sensei, but words were the problem, and I tried to control myself for as long as I could. Eventually, I just snapped," I explained.

Now the look she was giving me told me she not only believed my story, but that I had also piqued her interest. "Can you tell me what was said that caused you to lose your self-control?" was her next question.

I felt my eyes harden and my jaw tense as I unconsciously straightened, Andrew's words once again assaulting my senses. I shook my head. "Ea, Sensei," I told her, firmly. No.

"Was it about your mother?" Nancy knew how much I held my mother in high regard, but I replied in the negative. "Then who?"

Oh, what the hell, I thought. Although no one was around, I spoke quietly, "My girlfriend," and met her gaze for the first time since she'd made the move to talk to me in private.

The woman nodded, knowingly. "Mary Jane." She chuckled at my surprised expression. "You've never wondered why a thirty-eight-year-old woman like myself was never married, Bailey? While I'm happy you've found someone you obviously care about, fighting is always the last resort, understand?"

Still a bit in shock, I nodded, quietly. "Hai, Sensei," I agreed, and then she waved me off to go change. I changed back into my regular clothes as quick as I could, and then jumped into my Explorer, hoping I wouldn't be too late in picking up Mary Jane.

I was surprised when I pulled up at 7:34 and Mary Jane was nowhere to be seen. I didn't want to walk up and knock on the door, just in case Damon was still there, and I was ready to go home and call her when the front door opened.

"I'm sorry," she said, as she climbed into the passenger side. "I was finishing some things up on the computer."

I smiled, and leaned over to lightly kiss her lips, ignoring the slight pain it caused. "That's all right," I assured her, and backed out of the driveway.

"You told him?" Mary Jane asked in a quiet voice, and I nodded. "And…?"

Seeing the trepidation in her eyes, I reached out and gently squeezed her hand as I said, "And he accepts it."

I'm not sure she believed me at first. "Really?" I can't say that I blamed her; after the experiences she'd had, I'd be a little skeptical of a positive response, too.

"Yes, really," I confirmed. "In fact, he's the one who suggested you come to dinner tonight. I think he wants to talk to you," I added, and watched her emerald eyes widen. "He's not angry, sweetheart, I promise."

The fear left, and she tilted her head at me, almost curiously. "That's the second time you've called me that," she pointed out, and I froze when I realized what she was talking about.

Damn, I didn't even know I was saying it! I panicked.

"I… I'm sorry, MJ. I won't call you that if you don't want me to," I told her, quietly, concentrating solely on the road in front of me.

I felt small fingers curl around my own. "I like it, Bailey," she whispered, and my heart began to beat again; rather rapidly, in fact. The silly grin didn't leave my face until we arrived at my house and I sensed the blonde's growing nervousness.

"Bailey?" came a small voice, and I turned to her, concerned.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

Tears filled her green eyes. "What if you're wrong?" Mary Jane's simple question pulled at my heart, and I drew her into a strong hug. "What if he's mad, like… like my parents and Damon?" she continued, speaking into my T-shirt.

"Mary Jane, he said he accepts us. I trust him, and I don't believe he'd change his mind," I explained softly. "If you're really worried, I can turn around right now. You don't have to be here if you're not comfortable, you know that."

She nodded. "I know. Can… will you stay with me?" she asked, and I didn't hesitate.

"Of course," I agreed. "Are you ready?" When, after taking a deep breath, Mary Jane nodded, I gave her a small smile. "It'll be okay, sweetheart. Come on." Tempted as I was to grasp her hand, or even put my arm around her, I had to settle for placing my hand at the small of her back - as much as I loved my dad for his open-mindedness, I didn't want to push it by making him uncomfortable by being too close to Mary Jane… for as long as I could help it, anyway.

As soon as we walked through the door, I could smell the sauces my dad was using on the steaks, and my mouth began to water. Catching a small rumble coming from Mary Jane's direction, I grinned at her, and she blushed at her stomach's response to the aroma. With a sinking heart, I suddenly remembered that I had left before lunch, so Mary Jane had gone without my contribution to her meal - no wonder she was hungry!

"Time to eat, girls!" my dad called from the kitchen, and I urged the smaller woman ahead of me with an encouraging nod.

As Mary Jane took a seat at the table, I moved towards my dad, under the guise of retrieving a few glasses from the cupboard, and whispered lowly, "She's really nervous, dad. Please be nice."

He nodded, and smiled at me, bringing the pot of steamed vegetables over to the table, adding the salt and pepper before deciding everything was ready. Motioning for me to sit next to the blonde, I happily obeyed, and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze under the table.

"Before we eat," my father began, making me pause; I'd been reaching for the steaks, but brought my fork back to my plate, empty. "Before we eat, I'd like to say something to Mary Jane."

I winced. Not a good way to start, dad! I thought, seeing the green eyes widen.

"Thank you."

The blonde looked startled.

"Thank you," continued Darryl, "for making my daughter so happy. I haven't seen her this relaxed in a long time, and I know now that you're the reason she's been laughing and smiling more. There is nothing in this world that means more to me than Bailey's happiness, and if she is happy with you, then I stand behind you both 110 percent," he finished, with a smile. "Anyone who says any different will have to answer to me."

With tears in her eyes, I watched, concerned, as Mary Jane pushed her chair back and got to her feet. "I'm sorry," she murmured, fleeing from the kitchen and down the hallway. Looking to my dad, who looked just as worried as I was, he nodded his assent, and I ran after her.

I found her in my room, curled up on my bed, clutching at a stuffed animal of Bugs Bunny that normally resided on my dresser.

"Mary Jane?" I asked, softly, sitting beside her. "Sweetheart, what is it?"

When she shook her head, and refused to talk to me, I gently but firmly pulled her up into a sitting position, and wrapped my arms around her. Eventually, she placed her arms around my waist, crying into my shoulder.

"Why the tears, MJ?"

"I was… I was just thinking about m-my parents," she sniffled, and I lightly kissed the crown of her head.

"Your dad is so nice, Bailey… he really does accept us. You're so lucky. Why couldn't my parents be the same way?" she asked. "What did I do?"

I sighed heavily, and stroked her hair. "You didn't do anything, sweetheart; it's not your fault, okay? I don't know why your parents reacted like they did, but I'm sorry for it. You know that my dad accepts us, so you'll always be welcome here." I tried to let her know that she was safe with my dad and I, but I knew the fact that her family didn't accept her would always be hurtful. I couldn't expect it to be any different, but I sure wished it didn't have to be that way; I hated to see her upset.

"Are you up to finishing dinner?" I questioned gently, and she nodded. Helping her to her feet, I led her down the hallway with my arm around her shoulders.

My dad stood when he saw us return, and didn't seem to be bothered at all by the fact that we were so close - that was good.

"Are you all right?" he asked Mary Jane, kindly, and she nodded.

"Yes, thank you," she replied, taking her seat after I'd pulled the chair out for her.

Darryl chuckled at this, and gave me an amused look. "I must say she brings out your manners," he stated, and I rolled my eyes as Mary Jane smiled a little.

"Actually, dad, I think you're right - Mary Jane does bring out the best in me," I grinned, managing to make her blush a bit.

Dinner went rather well after that, and I was glad to see Mary Jane eat a good-sized steak and two helpings of vegetables. I hoped that meant if she got in trouble and, for whatever reason, wasn't able to eat a meal or two at home, she wouldn't be quite as hungry. As long as she was with me, at any rate, I'd do my best to make sure she was well taken care of.

It was the least I could do until I got her out of there. And I was going to get her out of that house - somehow, I had to.

After we'd finished our meal, and I'd helped my dad clear the table, I followed Mary Jane to my room, the look she was giving me telling me she wanted to talk. Recalling our conversation earlier in the day that I'd interrupted, I felt my stomach grow cold. I had a feeling she was going to discuss the things Damon had done, and that didn't sit well with me.

Sitting down on my bed, I joined her, and when I caught her fiddling with an ear of the Bugs Bunny character she'd hugged before, I gently took it out of her hands and laid it aside. Then, slipping her hands inside my own, I ducked my head until our eyes met.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, MJ," I assured her, quietly. "I'm here if you want to talk, but I don't want you to feel like you have to."

She nodded, and took a deep breath. "He never touched me like you said, but… but he would try to make me see what I was missing by not having a man in my life. He and his friends would sit in the living room and masturbate, and… if I didn't watch, he'd get angry and beat me. He thought it would show me what I was lacking. He hasn't done that in a while, though. Now he just gets angry."

I swallowed, hard, stomach churning and my mind full of rage. I had a sick taste in the back of my throat, and I wanted nothing more than to choke the life out of the little bastard that would do such a thing. To make her watch…

"But he never… with you…?"

She shook her head. "No, Bailey. I promise, he never did anything like that with me," she said, evenly, and I took a deep, shuddering breath. That didn't make it a whole lot better, but at least I knew he hadn't violated her any worse than that. I know if she'd have told me he'd done it, I would have been over there in a heartbeat, and then I'd end up in jail for murder. There would be no way around it.

Thank God it didn't come to that.

"I'm so sorry," I muttered, drawing her close to me. I think it ended up that she was comforting me more than I was her, but I had a feeling she felt a little better just being able to tell someone, to get it off her chest. She didn't have to hold anything in anymore; she didn't have to deal with anything alone ever again. I doubted she'd ever had that chance before, and I could only hope it helped.

I drove her home not long after that, but I couldn't get it out of my mind. I was gripping the steering wheel so tight my hands were turning white, and I had to flex them before I lost circulation. I think Mary Jane knew what I was thinking about, because she was also quiet, but I stopped her before she could exit the car, placing my hand on her arm, gentle but firm.

"Mary Jane, promise me that if anything like that ever happens again that you'll call me. I'll be here immediately to take you away from all this. Please, promise me," I pleaded, my voice hoarse.

"Bailey…"

"Promise me!"

Looking down, she whispered, "I can't," and made a hasty exit.

I sat in front of her house for a few minutes, taking slow, deep breaths until I was sure I was calm enough to drive. How could she sit there and not promise me? Why wouldn't she promise me? Damn it! I was so upset by the sudden turn of events that I took the long way home, and went straight to bed without so much as a "good night" to my dad.

Once there, I stared at the ceiling until I could see Mary Jane's face in it, trying to figure out what reason she could possibly have for refusing to promise me. It was a simple request - I only wanted to help her! To know what was going on, and not have her word that she'd call me if she needed help… that really bothered me.

My sleep that night was filled with images of Damon and all the things he'd done to my wonderful, beautiful, intelligent, gentle girlfriend. I awoke feeling nauseas, and came to the decision at two in the morning that I was going to take her away from there. Even if she didn't want to go, goddamn it, I couldn't just stand by and let her stay.

I was getting her out of that house and that's all there was to it.

Or so I thought.

I was suspended, and therefore I wasn't supposed to be on campus, but I didn't care. I was in the parking lot ten minutes before the first bell, and waited impatiently for Mary Jane to arrive. Sure enough, five minutes later, I saw a blue Honda drive up, and watched the small blonde step out.

When I was sure Damon was gone, I hurried to catch up to her, and drew her aside, startling her.

"Bailey!" she cried. "What are you doing here?"

"I can't let you stay there, Mary Jane. Please, say you'll let me get you away from there," I began, but she shook her head.

"You don't understand, Bailey, I can't go with you."

"Why not?" I demanded. "If I explain to my dad, I'm sure -"

"No!" Her response was fierce. "Please, don't say anything to your dad, Bailey. Please. Just let it go."

I frowned. "This is not something I can just forget about, Mary Jane! You shouldn't have to go through that," I insisted, but she looked away. "I can get you out of there! You don't have to be where he can hurt you!"

"I don't want you to get involved in all this, Bailey," she sighed, and I rolled my eyes.

"MJ, you've told me that before, but I can't not get involved. This concerns you, and that means it's my problem, too," I explained. "Come with me."

"No."

"How can you say that? How can you want to stay there with him?"

Green eyes blazed into my stern blue gaze. "It's not that I want to stay, Bailey, it's just that I can't leave. He's told me before that if I ever left, he'd find me, and hurt whoever it was that lured me away," she told me, tears in her eyes. "I don't want anything to happen to you!"

"I don't care about what happens to me!"

"I do!"

I was getting nowhere. "Please, MJ, please let me get you away from there. I hate the thought of him…" my voice trailed off as my tongue felt thick, and the sick feeling came back. "Just let me help you."

"Bailey, you are helping…"

"I'm not!" I cried. "I'm not because you're still getting hurt!"

"Bailey…" she began again, but I shook my head, cutting her off.

"Don't," I stated, harshly. "Just forget I asked, okay?" My anger and worry getting the best of me, I stalked off, slamming the door as I climbed into my Explorer. With a sigh, I drove home, and spent the rest of the day working myself into a sweat. I worked out until I was near exhaustion, trying to get rid of my anger that way, but failing.

When I was too tired and weak to continue with that outlet, I grabbed quick bite to eat, and turned to the garage. My dad was home by this time, so I told him I was going to give his truck a tune-up. He must have sensed my mood, because he didn't question my sweat-soaked T-shirt, nor my sudden need to work under the hood.

Changing his oil and making sure his transmission fluid was level, I put water in the radiator, and then moved on to my car.

By this time my hands were moving automatically - my mind was stuck on the image of Mary Jane, standing before me with tears in her eyes. Tears that I had caused. Now I felt like a real ass. Instead of taking the time to talk to her, and reason with her, I had cornered her and gotten upset when things hadn't gone like I'd planned. I'd acted like a royal jerk, and we'd had our first real fight - I didn't count the one the week before because my facts had been a little skewed. Now, even though I knew exactly what was going on, I felt horrible.

Checking the amount of oil, I was seriously considering driving over there to apologize, or at least call her. I had to ask her to forgive me for being so insensitive - I'm sure she didn't like having to go through all that, and if I had only listened, she would have given me a good reason for staying.

"Bailey." The noise startled me, and I spun around, my blue eyes taking in the rather disheveled form of Mary Jane.

Wiping my hands on the machinist's rag I took out of my back pocket, I asked, "What are you doing here?"

Green eyes filled with tears, and any attempt on my part to be firm went down the drain. "I - I'm sorry, Bailey. I don't want you to be mad at me. I know you just want to help, but I don't want you to get in trouble, and Damon would be upset if I left," she explained, softly. "I'm sorry."

Any thoughts of anger over our fight flew from my head when I saw the tears in her eyes, and for the life of me I couldn't remember what we were arguing about. All that mattered to me was that Mary Jane was upset.

"Oh, baby, come here," I urged, opening my arms, holding her tightly, neither of us caring at the moment that I was covered in grease. "I'm not mad at you, really I'm not. I guess I'm just frustrated at this whole situation. You know I only want to do what's best for you, right?"

The blonde nodded against my chest, and I pulled back a little so I could wipe away a few errant tears that had managed to fall.

"I'm sorry I acted like such an ass this morning," I told her. "I shouldn't have cornered you like that. I was just worried about you."

She smiled a little. "I know," she sighed. "But I'm sorry we got in a fight."

I nodded. "So am I, sweetheart, believe me," I agreed, lightly kissing the top of her head.

"Bugs?"

I grinned, involuntarily. "What?"

Her nose wrinkled as she looked at me and the black oil on my shirt. "I hate to say this, but you smell," she stated with a smile, and I raised an eyebrow at her, waving the dirty machinist's rag in her direction. She squealed, and laughed as she ran around the garage, me chasing her, never far behind.

Eventually, I ducked in front of the hood where she couldn't see me, and waited for her to wander closer. When she did, I grabbed her by the waist, slowly pulling her back into my body until I could wrap my arms around her middle.

I smiled when she willingly leaned her head against my shoulder, laying her hands over my own, holding them in place. Turning slightly in my arms, I closed my eyes as our lips met, and came to my second decision of the day: making up was a hell of a lot better than fighting.

"An earthquake couldn't separate you two," came a voice, and we jumped apart, embarrassed when we realized my dad had walked in on us. "I knocked and called your name three times," he grinned. "I guess this means you'll be in a better mood, Bailey? After a kiss like that, I sure would be!"

I groaned, and leaned my forehead against Mary Jane's shoulder. "Dad…" I growled, not finding the growing heat in my cheeks at all amusing.

My girlfriend, however, was looking at me with mirth in her emerald eyes. "You do look pretty cute in pink, Bugs," she commented, and I glared at her. Then, realizing I still had my arms around her waist, I began tickling her sides until she was laughing too hard to gasp out apologies.

Letting her regain her breath, I glanced up to see that my dad had left, and chuckled lightly, holding Mary Jane once more. Just then, a thought struck me - I would give her the necklace now. And I knew why.

"Hey, I have something for you," I told her, and asked her to close her eyes. With an anticipatory smile, she did as I asked, and I got the box out of my backseat. Taking out the necklace, I placed it in her hand, and then told her, "Okay, open your eyes."

Looking down at the gift, she gasped, examining the charm carefully. "Oh, Bailey, it's beautiful," she murmured, and I gently took it from her.

"May I?" I questioned, and she nodded. Stepping behind her, I fastened the clasp, and smiled when I realized the chain was the perfect length. The rose rested just above her heart.

"I figure that if I can't physically be with you all the time, you can keep this, and think of me," I explained, softly. "Anytime you need me, just remember that the rose is next to your heart - I'll always be with you. And if you ever want me there, all you have to do is call, and I'll come as soon as I can. I promise. I want to take care of you, sweetheart, but I also want you to know that I will stand beside you in whatever you decide to do," I concluded, honestly. I knew I wouldn't always understand everything she did, but I would do my best to support her.

She threw her arms around my neck. "Thank you," she whispered, and lightly kissed my jaw, sending tingles down my spine, almost like a chill or the goose bumps, but much warmer.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" I offered, but she shook her head.

"I told Damon I was only going to the library. I should be getting back," she sighed.

"I'll take you home…" The look in her eyes made me pause, and I instantly remembered that I couldn't do that anymore - it only got her in trouble. "How'd you get here?"

"I took the bus."

I nodded, accepting this. "Then I'll at least walk with you down to the bus stop," I told her, and she seemed pleased by the compromise. We talked idly as we walked side-by-side, finding it difficult not to be even closer. I knew if anyone saw us holding hands or hugging or kissing, they probably wouldn't approve, and that sucked. I mean, love is love, and who were they to think they could judge the decisions of the heart?

"Thank you for walking with me, Bugs," smiled Mary Jane, drawing me from my thoughts, and I grinned as I leaned down to give her a quick hug.

"Anytime, sweetheart," I assured her. "I'll see you Sunday for the movies?"

"Absolutely," she promised. Taking the rose in her hand, she winked, conveying the heartfelt message we were unable to express physically, and climbed onto the bus. I watched her go until they turned the corner, and then began the long walk home.

My dad insisted on Mary Jane arriving early on Sunday so we could have lunch, and I was glad to see that she seemed more at ease with him. He'd catch me staring at her and give me a knowing smirk, apparently pleased by the flush that often came to my cheeks. I don't know why he found such pleasure in embarrassing me so easily, but I was just glad he accepted my lifestyle, and took the teasing good-naturedly.

After lunch, we decided on a movie, but had almost an hour before the next showing began. Darryl, God bless him, suddenly decided we needed milk. Desperately. And maybe he'd wait while they milked the cow for him, to make sure it was fresh enough. Finally, I just thanked him for giving Mary Jane and I some time alone, and pushed him out the door before he could make an even bigger fool of himself.

"That's him being subtle," I chuckled, shaking my head as I sat on the couch, smiling fondly at my father.

"Bailey?" asked Mary Jane, after a period of silence, and I glanced up, hearing music softly play from the radio she'd been fiddling with.

Uh-oh. Music wasn't a good sign… even if it was country.

"Hm?" I replied, although I had a pretty good idea of what she wanted.

"Will you dance with me?"

With a sigh, I shook my head.

"Please?"

"Sweetheart, you don't understand - I'm a klutz. Trying to get me to dance is like telling my dad to have a baby. It just ain't gonna happen," I told her, gently, and while she smiled at my analogy, she didn't seem to accept my answer.

"Please?" She was moving closer to me, now.

I shook my head again. "Sorry." Truth of the matter was, I just didn't want to embarrass myself in front of my girlfriend.

"Bailey…" Oh, God, she was pouting… and those eyes… Christ, now what could I do? I was trapped! "Please…"

I'm an oak, I thought, firmly.

"No."

"Bugs…"

Aw, damn, not the nickname! "Huh-uh. I don't dance." That's it, be strong like the oak!

"Just one dance," she bargained, and I closed my eyes to try to escape the absolutely irresistible expression on her face. "Please." A gentle kiss to my lips. "Dance with me, Bugs." Another kiss. "For me?"

Screw the oak! I decided. The oak didn't have to stand up against the most beautiful pair of emerald eyes this side of heaven, and the voice of an angel. If it did, it would've broken like a first year's sapling.

"Only for you," I sighed, allowing her to take me by the hand and pull me to my feet. Dragging me into the living room, she put my hands on her waist and wrapped her arms around my neck, smiling gently when I tripped. Focusing hard, I kept stumbling or stepping on her feet, and considered calling it quits.

That's why I didn't dance very often; I knew I made a fool of myself.

"I can't do this," I growled, already frustrated.

"Yes, you can. Just get closer."

Oh, why didn't she just say so? I can do closer.

Moving in until the only thing separating us was practically the threads of our clothes, she continued, "Good. Now, don't just listen to the music, feel it. Feel the beat, the rhythm. Move with it."

Trying to do as she said, I eventually closed my eyes and folded her into my arms, finding that dancing wasn't as hard as it seemed. When you've got the right partner, of course. Holding her close, wrapped in the smell of her hair and the feel of her head on my shoulder, we danced to Shania Twain's You've Got a Way. The words seemed to fit perfectly.

You've got a way with me

Somehow you got me to believe

In everything that I could be

I've gotta say - you really got a way

You've got a way it seems

You gave me faith to find my dreams

You'll never know just what that means

Can't you see… you got a way with me

It's in the way you want me

It's in the way you hold me

The way you show me just what love's made of

It's in the way we make love

You've got a way with words

You get me smiling even when it hurts

There's no way to measure what your love is worth

I can't believe the way you get through to me

It's in the way you want me

It's in the way you hold me

The way you show me just what love's made of

It's in the way we make love

Oh, how I adore you

Like no one before you

I love you just the way you are

It's in the way you want me

It's in the way you hold me

The way you show me just what love's made of

It's in the way we make love

It's just the way you are

It was an amazing feeling. Standing there, with Mary Jane practically as physically close to me as possible, hearing the music play and taking the words to heart, I felt as though I could protect her from anything. With the small woman in my arms, there was nothing I couldn't do.

Once the song was over, and a song with a faster beat began playing, I leaned down and gently kissed her. One kiss turned into several, and I reluctantly stopped before my hand went any place other than her waist.

Pulling back, I happened to glance behind her, towards the front door, and was forced to ask the question that had been on my mind since she'd arrived. "Mary Jane, why did you bring your backpack?"

She paused, as if only remembering she'd brought it with her. "No reason," she muttered, and I sighed.

"Sweetheart…"

"I… I just brought my art book along, in case you wanted to see my drawings. But they're not very good, and I understand if you don't," she continued, quickly, and I smiled.

"I would love to see your work, MJ!" I exclaimed, honestly excited. Slowly, she retrieved her art pad, shyly handing it to me. Taking her hand, I urged her to sit beside me on the couch, and opened to the first page. It was a sketch of a cat, or a kitten more than likely, sitting on top of a garbage can in a yard, cleaning itself. Although not in color, only pencil, the detail was unbelievable.

"That's my cat, Socks," she explained, quietly. "It was one of the first sketches I did of something in real life." Nodding, I kept my thoughts to myself, and turned to the next page.

There, a realistic picture of a butterfly stared back at me, the small insect perched on a petal of a flower.

"It landed while I was finishing my picture of Socks," Mary Jane supplied.

We sat like that for about a half-hour, me flipping through the pages, Mary Jane explaining each one. When I'd seen the last drawing, which happened to be a sketch of Bugs Bunny, I closed the book quietly, and handed it back to the blonde.

She bit her lip, awaiting my response.

I was trying to formulate the right words. It took a lot to make me speechless, but that book of sketches had done it. I couldn't believe that anyone could do anything that realistic without having a camera. My girlfriend had a rare talent, that was for sure.

When I finally realized my silence was probably scaring her, I smiled and said, "Sweetheart, that was incredible! You're an excellent artist."

She smiled a little. "You're just saying that…"

I paused, and raised an eyebrow at her. I figured her brother had probably told her they were awful, but what did he know? I certainly didn't feel the same way. "Are you calling me a liar?" I questioned, and she shook her head. "Okay, then. Like I said, you're an excellent artist. Don't let anyone tell you different, all right?"

"Okay." Glancing up at the clock, I declared it was time to go to the movie if we didn't want to be late, and Mary Jane repacked her art book.

Returning to school on Monday was quite an experience… I was given angry looks from the other kids involved, and those who had been on the receiving end of the bullies' fists a time or two gave me a grateful smile. I assumed them being suspended and getting some of their own medicine had perhaps knocked some sense into them.

At lunch, however, I walked outside to find a beautiful blonde smiling up at me, obviously pleased to see me.

"Good to have you back, Bugs," she grinned, and I smiled.

"Thanks." For all the harsh looks I'd been thrown and pain I'd felt as I healed, just seeing her smile and knowing I'd somehow managed to protect her honor made it all worth it. I'd do it all over again if it meant keeping her safe.

"How do you feel?" The look in her emerald eyes told me she was truly worried, and I gave her a warm smile.

"I'm fine, MJ, thank you. Hey, who's up for a bologna sandwich?" I offered, and enjoyed lunch with my girlfriend - something I hadn't realized I'd missed until I wasn't able to do it. Being suspended from school didn't really do anything to me in the forms of punishment for fighting; but being away from Mary Jane… that was hard. I missed her more than I thought I should have for only a few days.

A few of my teachers had made the comment of letting me make up the assignments I'd missed. While that wasn't a usual practice, if they were willing to give me the option, I sure wasn't going to pass it up. The only catch was, I had to clear it with the principal. I made a mental note to talk to Mr. Heath about it the next day.

Mr. Heath begrudgingly said he'd let me make up the work. But that wasn't all I learned during that visit to the principal's office… I stumbled out of there, stunned. It wasn't until the following day that I'd come to the conclusion that I wasn't dreaming - I had really seen what I thought I'd seen.

I needed to talk to Mary Jane. I had to talk to someone about what happened, and my girlfriend was my first choice.

With a light sigh, I sat down beside the blonde at lunch on Wednesday, and turned to face her, as she gave me a concerned look.

"MJ, I need to talk to you," I began.

"Bailey, what is it?"

"Well, you know how it's been on the news about all those embezzlements going on, right?"

She nodded. "There hasn't been for a while, but there used to be," she commented.

"Yeah. I think I know who did it."

Her green eyes widened. "Who?"

"Mr. Heath," I stated.

"The princip-"

I put my hand over her mouth before she could finish the word, hissing, "Tell the whole world, why don't you?" in my panic that someone would overhear. Glancing around, it didn't look like anyone had paid any attention, and I kicked myself when I saw the expression of pure apology on her face.

Damn it, Bailey! I cursed myself. You know Damon wasn't very nice to her mental state either, and you probably just went and scared her. You can't yell at her!

"Shit, Mary Jane, I'm sorry," I said, honestly. I felt terrible. "I didn't mean to yell at you, sweetheart. I'm just a little anxious right now."

She shook her head, and took a deep breath. "No, I need to get over it, Bailey," she assured me. "I'm okay. Do you really think it was Mr. Heath?"

Giving her a quick glance, I responded, "Yeah, I do. Look, I was sitting there, waiting outside his office…"

"Again?" she cut me off, and I paused, sparing her a mock growl.

"Yes, again," I smirked, rolling my eyes, and she smiled. "I told you I was going to talk to him about maybe getting some of my assignments in that I missed while I was suspended. I mean, I know it's not school policy, but a few of my teachers were willing, so I decided to ask him about it.

"Anyway, I was sitting there, and the secretary said I could see him after he got off the phone. It was after school, and I'd already been there about a half hour, so I was almost ready to leave, when she said the light went off on the display of her phone, meaning his call had ended, and I could go in.

"I walked in and sat down at the chair in front of his desk, because I didn't see him in the office, so I guess he wasn't expecting her to send me in right away. I sat there for a few minutes before I got bored, and you know me, when I get bored, I have to find something to read. I saw a file open on his desk, and I really didn't mean to snoop, but I started just skimming over it.

"There were a bunch of long ID numbers, like bank accounts," I told her. "If the commas and decimals were right, he had over eleven million dollars in each of them, and there were about five of them listed.

"Anyhow, I heard him talking, so I sat back down. He must have been on a cell phone, because he was talking kind of loud and his secretary didn't show him on his line. I could only hear his side of the conversation, but this is what he said:

"'No, I told you, they're on the computer at the warehouse. I don't keep them here; what do you think I am, stupid?' In my mind, I was wholeheartedly agreeing, but… 'Look… no… all right, yeah, Friday night. Friday night, we'll go for it.

"'Nobody suspects a thing, I'm telling you. I'm a high school principal for Christ's sake! No one knows, I promise. Everything's done Friday night, and then it'll be over with, right? Right? You told me this was the last time! Goddamn it, it's all over the news! Our attempts at…'

"And then me, being the klutz that I am, I knocked the paperweight off his desk. I heard him say, 'Listen, I've got to go. I'll call you later. Yeah, okay. Take care of this!' So then I didn't hear anymore, and he came in, and we discussed my assignments, but I don't think he suspects that I heard anything. I really don't. He was kind of upset that I was in there, but I told him the secretary sent me in, and I said I'd only been in about ten seconds. I think he bought it.

"Listen, Mary Jane, if this is true, then he's part of the embezzlers! He's with the ones that have been taking all the money," I explained, urgently. He had to have others with him, because money had been disappearing from businesses all over; banks, schools, large department stores like Wal-Mart, and even my dad's work had lost money.

"But, why would he…?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "The money? Maybe he's working for somebody? I don't know. You know what else I saw? Receipts. Receipts for things like a 72'' TV. What is a high school principal going to do with a 72'' TV for crying out loud? That's freaking huge! He made numerous purchases over five and even ten thousand dollars; I think he was buying cars and pools and things like that. Paid in cash, if I'm not mistaken.

"Plus, there was stuff in there for that new car he's been driving - the Mercedes. And teachers don't even make that kind of money. Not even administrators make enough to do that. So he has to be the one; where else could he be getting that kind of money?"

"Maybe his wife works?" suggested Mary Jane, making me realize just how wonderful she was, to try to see the good in everyone.

"He's not married. Listen, MJ, if this is true, we need to find out."

"So, we go to the police."

"Mary Jane, I'm barely seventeen," I reminded her. "It'll be my word of what I read against his; a high school principal for five years, and a teacher for seven years before that. He's well distinguished in this town; no one's going to go against him. I need to do this myself.

"But he mentioned that it was on a computer." The blonde looked at me; she knew what I was thinking at that point. "I need your help… can you go with me?"

"I don't know, Bailey…"

"Look, he said it was Friday night - that's only the day after tomorrow. Can you get out, say, about nine o'clock?"

She paused. "Well, I suppose I could…"

"I'll pick you up. Listen, I remember something no one else in this town really knows about. When I was a kid, I was always messing around, trying to find new things to do and new ways to get in trouble. I found a tunnel that I was always hanging out in, and did some research a little while ago to figure out just what I was playing with - it was an old, old sewage drain. I didn't know because it didn't smell that bad anymore, so I didn't notice it.

"The city closed it down about twenty years or so ago and had to build another one, because it was beginning to mix with the water supply, and people were getting sick. Rather than get sued, they shut it down and built a new one with better drainage.

"But the tunnels are still there, and I know how to get in. One of the tunnels runs directly under the abandoned warehouse a few miles from here - it's the only warehouse in town they could be using," I explained.

"We can get in those tunnels, get underneath the building, get into the warehouse, get the records from his computer, copy them or whatever, and then get out of there before anyone knows we were there."

Mary Jane still seemed unsure of my plan. "Shouldn't we tell your dad, or the police, or…?"

"Not unless we get some hard evidence… without that, no one will believe us. No cop is going to follow two teenage kids who have a hunch. And Mr. Heath has always been on my case, for as long as I can remember. He's always been against me, and I don't know why, but this is my one chance to figure out what he's doing.

"Will you help me?"

The small woman was quiet for so long I wasn't sure she was going to answer, and if she did, I was sure it was going to be 'no'.

Finally, she looked at me, and said, "Where you go, I go."

I broke out into a relieved smile, and wanted nothing more than to kiss her, but remembered just in time that we were in school. That phrase meant so much more to me than just her agreement to help on Friday night.

"Thanks, sweetheart," I whispered. "Look, I'll talk to you later," I said, as the bell rang, "but Friday night at nine o'clock you be out front, okay?"

She nodded. "I'll do my best, Bugs," she promised, and I grinned, helping her to her feet as I walked her to class.

For the rest of the day, and the time leading up to the end of the day on Friday, I could only think of how many different ways my plan could go wrong. Little did I know, the one possibility I didn't envision had the best chance of becoming reality.

I told dad Mary Jane and I were going to hang out together, which wasn't exactly a lie, and I told Jerry I had to take the night off to take care of some personal things, and while he didn't seem too pleased, he let me go. I hated lying to my boss, but I couldn't very well tell him the truth, either.

I could just see it: "No, Jerry, I can't go to work because my girlfriend and I are going to play detective and try to find out who's been stealing all the money around town. By the way, we think it's the principal." He'd have me committed before I could finish my sentence.

I pulled up in front of Mary Jane's house at 7:58. I began bouncing my knee when it rolled over to 8:01. At 8:03 I was ready to go home and call it quits.

Just then, the front door opened, and Mary Jane stepped out, wearing a light windbreaker. Hurrying to the car, she climbed in, and apologized for being late.

"That's all right," I assured her. "Do you have what you need?"

She nodded. "Yes," she said, confident.

"And you got out okay?"

"Damon's not home again, so I didn't even have to make anything up," she explained, and I was glad to hear that.

I took a deep breath. "Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

I smiled, and reached over to squeeze her hand. "Okay. Let's do this," I urged, and slowly backed out of the driveway, heading down the road towards the biggest adventure of my young life.

I parked a few blocks from the warehouse and we walked the rest of the way, so as not to let my headlights draw attention to us. I only had a flashlight with me, and Mary Jane had assured me everything she needed was in the pockets of her jacket, so we were ready to go.

"Here," I said, and stopped in front of a manhole in the sidewalk. Lifting the lid, I clicked on my flashlight and let it shine into the darkness of the tunnel, illuminating nothing but cement and the iron ladder.

"I'll go first and help you down," I told her, and she nodded. Taking the light from me, she watched as I climbed down the rungs, and then told her to follow. There was about a four-foot drop from the last rung of the ladder to the ground, so I put my hands on her waist and carefully set her on her feet. I didn't expect the air to be as cool or as damp as it was, and I mentally praised my girlfriend for bringing a jacket.

She smiled up at me and squeezed my hand, which was still on her waist. "Thanks," the blonde said, and I gave her a half-smile.

"This way." I remembered the tunnels from my childhood - that and I'd studied a map I found on the Internet the day before, just to refresh my memory. I didn't want to get lost in the winding pathways of an old sewer.

Judging by the close proximity Mary Jane was keeping with me, I assumed that was exactly what she was afraid of - getting lost. Reaching behind me, I took her hand, and brought her up to my side.

"It's okay," I soothed, and paused in front of another ladder. "This should be just outside the warehouse. We can get inside from there." Giving her the light again, I lifted the lid, having to use quite a bit of strength, as weeds and grass had overgrown most of it. Slowly pulling myself up enough to see that no one was around, I climbed the rest of the way out, and reached down to assist Mary Jane.

Brushing my black hair out of the way, I replaced the lid, wincing as it grated against the rim, emitting a spine-chilling screech. I froze, worried that someone else would hear it, but perhaps the sound just seemed louder than normal, because no one was wise to our arrival yet.

Continuing on our way, I took a good look at the warehouse for a moment, and was glad to find it was only one story tall. That meant we didn't have too much ground to cover. Carefully feeling the walls with my hand, I noticed a window that had been boarded up - well, they all had, but this one was not quite as secure as the others. Most of the nails were missing, and I gently pried the remaining ones away, slowly removing the plywood. I let out a breath of relief when I didn't see anyone, and motioned to Mary Jane that I would go first.

My heart was beating fast with the adrenaline that was rushing through my veins, and I gingerly swung my leg over the sill, placing it lightly on the ground, trying not to make a single sound. The rest of my body followed, and I landed in a low crouch, surveying my surroundings quickly.

Boxes were everywhere, as well as a few chairs, and I could make out the edge of a table. Only one room that I could see had a door on it; the rest were wide open, mainly showing off more boxes or black garbage bags. Filled with money and loot, I imagined.

I could hear voices, men's, but they were quiet, so I hoped they were on the other end of the building. Waving for Mary Jane to follow, I helped her through the window, and then crept along the wall, trying to find the room where the computer was kept.

A shadow from one of the four or five naked lights in the room caught my attention, and I pulled my blonde companion against me swiftly, trying to blend in with the wall. A voice called out, "Damon!" and the shadow halted and disappeared, as I exchanged a surprised glance with Mary Jane, who shrugged.

With a quick nod of my head, we continued our search, and I found one of the rooms with a door. Finding it unlocked, I checked for prying eyes, and silently opened the door, closing it gently behind us.

A computer with a glowing monitor stood before us on a large wooden desk, and Mary Jane instantly claimed the chair.

"Okay, sweetheart, this is your department," I breathed, and she nodded, fingers already flying across the keyboard.

Granted, I didn't know much about computers, but I knew a message box when I saw one.

Entrance denied. Please enter password.

"Damn it!" I cursed, softly. "It's password protected." There went our evidence.

Mary Jane just smiled at me. "Relax, Bugs," she said, quietly, removing some disks from her jacket. She had two 3 ½ '' disks, two CD-ROMs, and one large floppy disk that I hadn't seen in years. "This is my forte, remember?"

Inserting one of the smaller disks, she hit a few keys, and suddenly letter after letter after number appeared on the screen.

"It should only take about thirty seconds."

I frowned. "What are you doing?"

She cocked her head at me; lovingly, I thought. "You really don't know anything about computers, do you?" I shook my head. "This is a deciphering program I made - it will break just about any password on any computer. Depending upon how long it is, it can take anywhere from thirty seconds to ten minutes. This one only seems to be about five characters, so it should be done pretty soon."

By the time she was done explaining the process to me, the message Access granted flashed across the screen, and I gave her shoulder a strong squeeze.

"We're not done yet," she warned, and had to use her program several more times. In just a few minutes, she announced, "I'm in." Looking through files and documents that meant absolutely nothing to me, she eventually double-clicked on an icon, and something came up in the word processing program.

"It's those records you were talking about…" she said. "Bailey, look at this! Pools, real estate, computers with amazing speed and power… they've been buying everything!

"And here's the bank account information," the blonde continued, her fingers constantly moving, be it on the keyboard or the mouse. She exchanged disks a few times, and then began skimming through another list.

"Copy them down!" I urged.

"That's what I'm doing. I'll do the computer, Bailey, you just keep an eye out and get us out of here when I'm done," she told me, quietly but firmly, and I realized I must have been making her nervous.

Doing as I was told, I kept careful watch on the door, and listened for any voices that I thought might mean someone was coming towards us.

"They kept all the records of who they bought what from," she chuckled, lightly.

Suddenly, she got too quiet - I didn't hear the keys clicking away anymore.

"Bailey, what was your mom's name?" she questioned, and I paused, startled by the odd question.

"Joanne, why?"

She glanced up at me, her eyes sad, and I frowned, wondering what she'd discovered. Something concerning my mother? Why would Mr. Heath have anything about her?

I was heading towards the screen when some male voices caught my attention.

"I know, but Tom said he wanted it printed out anyway," said one, in response to the other's complaining, and I turned to Mary Jane, anxiously.

"Copy it and let's get out of here!" I urged. "We've got to go, now!"

"Patience is a virtue," she replied, as the blue bars indicated that the file was only about 75% done.

I could hear their footsteps. "Not right now it isn't!"

"Got it!"

As soon as she had the disk in her hand, I opened the door with all my might, slamming it into the faces of the two men who were coming in our direction. They stumbled backward, holding their noses, and I pushed Mary Jane ahead of me. Hurrying out the window, I sprinted ahead to open the manhole, and made sure the small blonde went before me.

"Get them!" someone yelled, and I saw three men run from around the side of the warehouse, apparently trying to catch us. Just as I climbed down the ladder, I saw one pull a gun, and hurriedly slid the cover back over the opening, just to delay them a bit.

"Come on, follow me!" Grabbing Mary Jane's hand, I practically drug her through the tunnels, stopping only when I felt her trip and heard her cry out in pain.

"This way!" cried one of the men, and I swallowed.

"Mary Jane! Can you walk?" I asked, and she was limping heavily, having sprained her left ankle, so I decided we didn't have time to go out the way we came. We'd have to take a short cut. Making a sharp left, I froze. The path was blocked.

"Fuck!" I cursed, under my breath. "This wasn't here when I was a kid." The map hadn't mentioned anything about a dead end, either. With the men coming closer, there was no way we could try another route - we were stuck.

"Don't say a word," I whispered, and she nodded. Holding her close, I flinched when the voices came even closer.

"I told you I heard someone in there! Did they get into the computer?"

"Hell, I don't know; Gerald is checking it out," replied the other voice, a little deeper than the first.

"Oh, fuck this. I don't want to stay in here running after a couple of punk-ass kids. Why don't we just scare 'em a bit and call it quits?"

There was silence as the other man contemplated the idea. "Damon, you know we're supposed to catch them."

"So? We'll just scare 'em so bad they'll never tell. Hell, let's just fire and block them in. Come on." In a moment, I heard a click, followed by numerous loud explosions that echoed all around us. I lost count at seven, and was only aware of the rumbling coming from deep within the old tunnel.

The next thing I knew, I was laying on top of Mary Jane - unfortunately, while I normally would have loved being in that position, the reason for it was to shield her from falling debris. The men didn't know it, but they'd been shooting almost directly at us, and the reverberations from their gunfire had caused several of the drain's passages to cave in.

Looking around as I shook small rocks and cement dust from my back, I realized the passage we were in had been blocked off. The previous cave in and the one just a few moments ago had us trapped.

"Mary Jane, sweetheart, talk to me," I urged, glad to see that she was conscious.

"I'm okay, Bailey," she assured me. "My ankle hurts, but I'm all right." She gasped as she saw the damage. "How are we going to get out?"

I sighed, and pulled her close to me, glad she had a jacket as the chill was especially apparent.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart… I'll get us out of here," I promised, and got to my feet, beginning to dig with my hands, removing rocks as quickly as possible. Hearing her start to get to her feet, I said, "No, you stay there. You're hurt, MJ. You just rest your ankle, okay?"

"I want to help," she insisted.

I shook my head. "Rest." Anxious to get out, I started pulling the smaller rocks out first, and worked at that for about an hour, I'd guess, before I heard another rumbling sound. One of the rocks I'd pulled out near the bottom caused another slide, and the small progress I'd been making was gone in an instant.

"Fuck!" I cursed, frustrated. Kicking at the rocks, I berated myself for bringing Mary Jane into such a mess. "Goddamn it!" I froze when I saw her standing.

Immediately, I went to her side. "What are you doing?" I demanded, helping her to sit back down. My eyes had adjusted to the dark long ago, and it was still rather hard to see, but I did my best to take a look at her ankle with the flashlight. From what I could tell it was badly swollen, and she gasped in pain when I lightly touched it with my hand.

"You can't walk on this," I told her. "You rest, sweetheart, please. I'm so sorry I brought you into all this."

"But, Bailey, you found what you needed!"

"Well, yeah, but I shouldn't have brought you along… I mean, now you've gotten hurt! I don't know if it was worth it," I admitted.

Grabbing my arm, she pulled me down beside her, and wrapped her arms around me. "Bugs, I meant what I said: where you go, I go. Always. What's on these disks doesn't matter - you are what matters, and you are worth it. I'm here because I want to be. I know I didn't have to go, and I know you wouldn't have made me," she said. "Please don't be upset… I would follow you anywhere, you know."

I looked at her. "Why? I'm just a klutz who's always getting into trouble," I reminded her, but she didn't seem to agree with me.

"Bailey," she began, with a sigh, "I knew there was something about you the first time I saw you. I've never been one to just go up and start a conversation, at least not for a while, but I wanted to talk to you. I felt like I had to go up and tell you that you weren't alone on your opinion of Mr. Newton.

"Do you have any idea how scared I was that day? I mean, most of my experiences with talking to people have been bad, because my brother got upset. But I didn't care about that when I started talking to you - I'd only known you for five minutes and I already felt safe," she explained.

"I knew Damon wouldn't like it if I went out to lunch with you that day, but I didn't want to disappoint you, and I really wanted to go. For once, I was doing something just for myself, because I wanted to," she said, and I knew this was more than I'd ever heard her speak at one time. "And I'm glad I did.

"I don't regret anything that's happened since I've been with you, Bugs… well, except maybe our arguments, but I think it brings us closer when we make up. I would have found a way to go with you tonight, even if you hadn't asked. Please, don't apologize," she urged, squeezing my hand and placing a soft kiss on my lips.

How could I argue with that?

"Okay, sweetheart. You sit here, and I'll start back in on that big pile of pebbles, all right?" I grinned, and kissed her forehead before getting to my feet.

I worked hard for the next four hours. Mary Jane kept trying to help, but I wouldn't let her, and since some of the rocks were more like boulders, it took me a while to get it all done. I started from the top this time, so I didn't cause another slide, but by the time I was done, I was exhausted. My arms were more sore than I thought was possible, my back ached, and I had a headache from trying to see in the dark.

"Come here," urged Mary Jane, and I gratefully sank into her embrace, leaning against her as she ran her fingers through my hair. I only closed my eyes for a second, but the next thing I knew, we were both asleep.

When I woke up, I groaned and stretched, my body not at all happy with the position I'd fallen asleep in.

Wait a minute… we fell asleep! Shit! Glancing down at my watch, I spoke those same thoughts out loud. It was past seven o'clock in the morning!

"Mary Jane… sweetheart, we have to get up," I urged, gently shaking her. When her sleep-filled green eyes focused on me, I explained our problem. "It's seven-fifteen, and we need to go. Come on, sweetheart."

Helping her to stand, I let her lean on me for support, and in fact ended up carrying her most of the way. She protested, claiming she was too heavy, but her ankle was swollen pretty badly, and I knew it had to hurt. I refused to let her walk on it, even if I thought I had pulled a few muscles in my back and maybe torn a ligament in my right arm. But I wouldn't tell her that.

Climbing back out of the drain was the hardest part, especially for my girlfriend, but somehow, we made it, and headed back towards my car. Finally, I told her to wait by a nearby pay phone so she wouldn't look too suspicious, and I jogged the rest of the way, swinging back around to pick her up.

"We need to get your ankle looked at," I told her, and the blonde agreed, so our first stop was the community hospital. Luckily it wasn't very busy, and she was taken in right away. The doctor determined it was only a severe sprain, and so instructed her on when to ice it and for how long, and how to wrap it once the swelling went down. Then he handed her a pair of crutches, telling her she had to stay off of the injured joint for at least a week.

I felt my heart break as I saw her come out of there, using crutches for support. I hated to know that I was the reason she'd gotten hurt.

"I'm all right, Bugs," she assured me, quietly, placing her hand on my arm, having seen the look on my face, I suppose.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, and we made our way back to my Explorer. I tried to make her stay at my house while I went to the police with what we'd found, but she insisted on going with me, and I learned that when she made her mind up to do something there was really no stopping her. I was glad she had that determination after all she'd been through in her life.

Her spirit prevailed.

Before we went to the police station, however, we stopped by my house. As I'd expected, my dad was practically up the wall with worry.

"Bailey, where the hell have you been?" he demanded, as I walked in the door. "Why didn't you call? What happened to Mary Jane?"

I held up my hand, stopping the barrage of questions. "Dad, just sit down, and we'll explain everything, all right?" I requested, and he sank into the recliner, with an eyebrow raised in such a way that told me he thought the explanation had better be good.

It took the better part of an hour to get through our explanation, because he kept interrupting and asking various questions, but when we were done, he was quiet.

"So it's the principal?"

I nodded. "Yeah," I confirmed. "We're going to the police station next."

"And you have the disks with the proof?"

Mary Jane replied, "Yes," and took them out of her pocket. "It's got all the evidence on it that we should need."

My dad was silent for a moment, and then he nodded. "Well, this is up to you, girls. Let me know if you need any help, okay? But you should take this stuff to the cops," he agreed, and I told him we were on our way.

On the way down there, Mary Jane mentioned, "Bailey, are you sure we won't get in trouble? I mean, weren't we trespassing? And what about looking through his file?"

I sighed. "No, I don't think so. The land doesn't really belong to anyone any more, as far as the warehouse goes; they were just using it for their hideout. It wasn't as though it was a business or anyone's house. And as for his file, it was in plain view. I didn't have to go searching to find it, it was right there," I explained.

It took us another hour to explain everything to the cops, and then we gave them the disks. One of the officers took them into another room and opened the files on a computer, before coming back to report that it had everything that could have hoped for. It was rock solid, he confirmed, having checked with a few sources to discover some of the receipts on record were valid. We hadn't made it up.

Then came another long string of questions, such as how many people did we think were involved and how many rooms were in the warehouse… I guess they were planning a raid or something and wanted to know what they'd be up against. Mary Jane and I told them everything we knew, and they thanked us for coming forward with the information.

It was about ten-thirty when we walked out of the station, the disks now in the possession of the police, Mary Jane and I both feeling very relieved that the authorities would take care of everything.

It was on the news later that night. The embezzlers had been found, and most of them had been arrested. The only criminal still free was the supposed mastermind of it all - Gerald Heath, local high school principal, and while that had me a little worried, I was sure he wouldn't show his face again, since his buddies had been caught.

Their entire plan was revealed: about twenty men were involved, only half of them working with the money, the other half committing various crimes, such as bank robbery and playing the parking lot stalker, to distract the public from the gradually disappearing cash. A few names were released, of the ones involved that had been arrested, and I was not surprised to see Damon Wilcox on that list. That would explain why he was gone every weekend.

But embezzling wasn't the only way they were getting their money - it seems a small drug operation was also in the works, making meth (met amphetamine) and selling marijuana.

Seeing as we had been the ones to discover it all, Mary Jane and I were also mentioned. We were sitting on my couch watching the report, my dad having ordered pizza, Mary Jane staying upon my insistence, since Damon was out of the picture and her parents didn't care. I about choked on my soda - yeah, I didn't drink it very often, but I was celebrating - when I heard the part about the teens that had foiled their plans.

"High school student Bailey Smith and her girlfriend Mary Jane Wilcox seem to be the ones to thank for bringing this criminal activity to an end…"

Mary Jane patted me on the back until I regained my breath.

"Shit," I cursed. "Well, so much for keeping it a secret. Damn it!"

"Bailey Joanne, will you watch your mouth?" my dad scolded, and I rolled my eyes as my girlfriend smirked.

"Sorry, dad."

The small blonde by my side reached over and squeezed my hand. "Bugs, it really doesn't matter if people know, does it? We're happy and if they never understand, it's their loss," she reasoned, and I gave her a warm smile.

"You're right, sweetheart," I agreed, leaning down to give her a quick kiss, pulling back when I heard my dad chuckle.

"Oh, no, don't stop on my account," he grinned, and I glared at him. "By all means, continue."

I growled, "If you don't mind… I don't like an audience!"

With a large swallow, he downed the rest of his glass of tea. "Oh, look, my glass is empty. I'd better go make some more tea," he decided, getting up and going into the kitchen. I just smirked and shook my head, fondly.

"He can be such a goof," I sighed, and Mary Jane smiled up at me.

"Is that where you get it from?"

With a scowl, I crossed my arms over my chest and pretended to pout. Mary Jane laughed at my reaction, and gently kissed the edge of my jaw, making me break out into a large grin.

My dad returned with a full glass of tea and laughed at the look on my face, kissing the blonde on the top of her head, commenting that it was great to see such a stupid smile on my face. Putting my arm around my girlfriend, I pulled her close, kissing her softly before shooting a glance at my dad, stating, "Get your own girl."

Darryl let out a loud laugh, and soon Mary Jane and I joined in. Sitting there in the living room with the people I loved, my dog laying by my feet, life was good.

The days went by quickly, and before I knew it, school was over. The vice principal had been principal for the remaining weeks, but they were working over the summer to get a new principal for the following year. I graduated tenth in my class, and my girlfriend was sixth, so she got to be a part of the Honor Guard, which meant she got to wear a white cap and gown and sit on stage with the seniors as they graduated. Only the top seven in the junior class got that privilege, and I'm sure I used up at least one roll of film during graduation.

I was pleasantly surprised when there were no rude remarks made about the fact that the local news station had practically announced my sexuality. A few strange looks here and there, but not the hateful reaction I'd been expecting. Then again, it's very possible that I just ignored them - Mary Jane was right, all that mattered was that we were happy together.

And I was definitely happy. I finally convinced her to allow me to tell my dad all that had happened to her, and he didn't hesitate to ask her to move in with us. Her brother was in jail, so that wasn't a problem, and her parents didn't care what she did; they were glad to be rid of her, I'm sorry to say.

It was the weekend after school let out, and I was driving down the road to Mary Jane's house to help her pack her stuff. I had never been so glad to be going in that direction. Finally, I was getting her out of there, even though the major problem was gone. Still, it made me feel good.

Suddenly, a black Mercedes cut me off, changing lanes quickly without signaling, making me hit the brakes to avoid a collision.

"Jerk," I muttered. "You've got a turn signal, damn it, why don't you use it? That's what it's there for, you know. How hard is it to just reach down and move a little lever for Christ's sake?" I didn't have very much patience for people who drove like idiots.

I made a right, and was glad to see the Mercedes kept going. I could turn my thoughts back to more pleasant things, now, like my girlfriend…

But, no, the damned Mercedes came back and cut me off again.

"What the hell!" I cried, and hit the horn. The black luxury car made a sharp U-turn, and then gained on me. He was coming right towards me! I flinched, knowing there was nothing I could do, and felt my teeth jar as he rear-ended my Explorer.

With a snarl, I pulled over, and slammed the door as I got out.

"All right, you son of a bitch. What the hell is your problem?" When the driver made no move to step out, I came closer, unable to see who it was through the heavily tinted windows and the glare of the sun. Just as I was within range, the driver's door suddenly opened, and I was very nearly hit in the face. Stumbling back, I flexed my hand, as that had taken the force of the blow.

"Your mother was just like you, you know," came a voice, and my jaw hit the ground as Gerald Heath stepped out of the driver's seat.

I was speechless. First of all, what was he doing following me, and second of all, what the hell did he know about my mother? Was that what Mary Jane had found on the computer?

Wait a minute… he had a gun… who was he aiming it at?

"Holy shit," I muttered, as my girlfriend stepped out of the passenger side. He had the barrel of his revolver trained on her, but kept talking as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

"She got too close, too. You knew your mother used to work for me, didn't you?" The surprise must have shown on my face because he continued with a smirk, "Oh, you didn't know that!" Motioning Mary Jane closer, he put the gun against her head, and I felt my heart stop.

"Don't hurt her," I pleaded. "I'll do whatever you want, just don't hurt her."

"Actually, right now I want you to listen," he ordered, and I nodded, easily.

"I'm listening," I assured him.

"So you didn't know your mom used to work for me… yeah, I used to be a great guy," he began. "I used to work in a bank. The one right here in town, in fact. Then I started getting money… a lot of money. Nobody cared, because they were all afraid of me… except your mother. She was always the one who stood up to me, and then she finally found out what was going on.

"Well, she was going to the cops, but she got into a little accident on the way," he sneered, and I could feel the anger build within me. "Let's just say she didn't come back, and no one ever found out that she wasn't the driver. They just figured she was ejected during the fall, and there wasn't enough evidence to prove otherwise. She just fell asleep at the wheel and went right over the edge… no one knew it was me.

"No one knows what really happened… how I knocked her out and then drove up to the bridge. There were no other cars around, so I floored it, and jumped out just before it went over. Your mother, however, went down with the car. Everyone just assumed it was a horrible accident."

I felt ill. The man standing before me was telling me that he was the reason I'd lost my mother at the tender age of three… her death was no accident; he'd killed her!

"But you see, now that you and your little slut girlfriend have stumbled upon our little scheme, and my buddies are in jail, the only way I can come up with to extract justice is to shoot you all," he stated, with an eerily calm grin. "Correct me if I'm wrong."

"Listen, it was my idea to go looking. I dragged Mary Jane into it; she really had nothing to do with it. It was all me. Just let her go," I pleaded, trying to reason with the armed man. I'd much rather take the place of my girlfriend, if it meant she was safe. My heart was pounding so hard I was afraid he'd hear it and know how panicked I felt.

"Hm…" he mused, pretending to think about it. "No. I've seen how you are with her. What, do you think this is the first time I've been watching you?" he laughed. "I've been watching you for weeks, Bailey! I know you love her more than life itself. And to see her die would be worse than death for you, wouldn't it?"

My heart was pounding but I couldn't stop myself. I whispered, "Yes."

"Ah, see? I know what makes you tick," he gloated.

"Well, we have something in common then, Mr. Heath. I know what makes you tick," I told him, quickly coming up with a plan that I could only hope would work. My girlfriend's life depended on it.

"Bailey, you already know all my secrets," he reminded. "Nothing can make me tick, you should be smart enough to realize that."

"Yeah, but you forget that I'm a writer. And a writer has ideas. And a writer needs a way to get those ideas down before she loses them," I explained, coolly. I pulled out my micro-cassette recorder that I carried with me. I hadn't had it on before, but when he started talking about my mother, I reached in my pocket and turned it on without him thinking anything of it.

"Therefore, this goes with me wherever I am. It's been on for the past ten minutes. So, I have tape of your confession. And I have a tape that says you're going to kill my girlfriend, and me. I don't know what you're going to do about it, but you do know that I hit 911 on my phone the minute you rear-ended me, so the cops should be here any minute. See, I don't take kindly to anyone hitting my car, and I was hoping you wouldn't have insurance."

That was pure bullshit, but I prayed he'd buy it.

"But, not only do you not have insurance, I doubt that's really your car, and now you're holding my girlfriend at gunpoint. So, what makes you tick, Mr. Heath?" I finished, enunciating each word carefully, playing off as being completely confident when in fact I was scared out of my mind.

He was pissed. "You bitch! You lie," he spat.

I removed the cassette and waved it at him. "Try me," I dared. "Either you let her go, or you've got thirty seconds before I hand this over to the cops. You can riddle my body with bullets, but this… this will be your undoing."

"Give me the tape now or she dies!" he roared.

I have never truly believed in miracles before that point. Somewhere, not far in the distance, a high-speed pursuit or something was going on, and we all heard the sirens. I hadn't called the cops, but Gerald took that as a sign that they were coming. Nothing but coincidence, but it was just what I needed.

Come on, break you son of a bitch, I prayed, urgently.

"Twenty seconds."

He tried to bargain now, and I could tell he was nervous. "Look… you, uh, you give me the tape, and I'll hand her over," he offered, but I shook my head.

"Huh-uh. You give me the gun and her, and I'll give you the tape. That's the only way we're doing this," I said, firmly.

He was desperate, and I noticed that his eyes kept darting around, trying to figure out if the cops were coming closer.

"I… I'll give you the gun, and then we'll exchange the girl and the tape at the same time," was his plea.

I jumped at the offer, but remained calm on the outside. "I can handle that," I grinned. "Come on, we've got five seconds to do this. Put the safety on." He did as I asked, and handed it to me, handle first. I was impressed; he was keeping his end of the deal.

Taking the weapon, I held the gun in one hand and my tape in the other.

"All right, here we go." I moved closer, but stopped halfway. "Let Mary Jane start walking," I ordered, but he refused.

"Not until I have that tape in my hand!"

Aiming the gun at him, I made a show of turning off the safety and aimed it at him. "Listen, ass hole. Let her start walking, now!"

He let her go, thankfully, and as soon as she was within arm's reach, I grabbed her and pulled her out of harm's way. Handing her the tape, I put the safety back on the gun, and gave that to her as well.

"It won't go off," I assured her, as she stared at the weapon with wide eyes. "Just get in the car and lock the doors."

Doing as she was told, I saw Mr. Heath start after her, since she held the precious tape, but I intercepted him.

"You're not going to get off that easy, prick," I spat. "You're going to pay for what you did to my mother… and it's still on tape." Grabbing him by the arm, I swung him around, and introduced his nose to my fist. He tried to backhand me, but I blocked it, and followed through with a kick to his side.

To sum it up, I was literally beating the shit out of him. He got maybe one or two solid hits in, but it didn't even faze me. I was so pissed off I wouldn't have cared if I killed him right then and there.

Somehow, however, my anger clouded my mind for a moment, and he managed to punch me hard in the gut. It knocked the wind out of me, and I doubled over, wincing as my head hit the asphalt when he pushed me down. Kneeling on my stomach, he withdrew a pocketknife and revealed the sharp blade that reflected in the sun, bringing it close to my neck.

"Stop." He glanced up at the sound, as did I, and we were both surprised to see Mary Jane standing over us, the gun held tightly in her shaking hands. "Leave her alone," she ordered.

The man leered at her, apparently not bothered in the least. The blade was still too close to my skin for me to even think about moving… one small slip and that was all it would take.

"You don't have the guts, bitch," he said, coldly. "Your brother was right, you know; you really aren't good for anything." If looks could kill he'd have been dead about ten times over at that point, I was so ticked at him for telling her that, and reminding her of her brother.

But, then, I realized that's exactly what he was trying to do. If he worked with Damon I'm sure he knew what would cause the most damage to my beautiful girlfriend, and would try to use it to get her to retreat back into that shell. If that happened, it was all over. Her and that gun were the only things that stood between me and an early grave.

"You're too scared to even aim the gun right," he continued, mocking her. "You'll never do anything right, will you? If you destroyed your family life, what makes you think you'll ever have a relationship? No one will want you," he hissed, and I could tell her was getting to her. The barrel of the gun was slowly lowering as she faltered.

In a flash of bravery, or insanity - I'm not sure which, really - I met her gaze. "Don't believe him, sweetheart," I urged, and felt a small pain in my neck as the blade moved a little closer. "You're beautiful and talented and smart… I have faith in you."

That seemed to get through to her, and she steadied the gun, going so far as to pull back the hammer.

"Move," she commanded, firmly. "Do it." With a snarl, the man got to his feet, and made his way to the curb where she directed him. When I was able to, I went to the blonde's side, and gently reached out to take the gun from her and eased the hammer out of position.

I heard sirens again, but this time they were coming in our direction - Mary Jane must have called 911 while she was in the car. I only had the cell phone in my car, I never really had to use it, but it was there if I needed it. I was glad she'd taken the initiative.

"Are you all right, sweetheart?" I asked her, as the cops rushed in and took him into custody. Other than being a little shaken up, she said she was okay, and I enfolded her in my arms for a moment, kissing the crown of her head before an officer approached us to get a report. It turned out Mr. Heath had actually gone to Mary Jane's house and taken her out at gunpoint when she answered the door - her parents didn't even notice.

When all the questions were over with and we'd assured the officers we were okay, they left us to ourselves, and I wrapped my arm around my girlfriend's shoulders. We were sitting on the curb, well aware of the curious eyes that watched from the nearby homes, but neither of us caring.

"You saved me, Mary Jane," I said, and she shook her head. "No, you did," I insisted. "You kept him from killing me, and you called the police… now he's got what he really deserves. You were very brave; you stayed calm, you did everything just right. You were great.

"I'm just glad you're okay," I continued. "I love you so much, I don't know what I'd do if anything ever happened to you."

I paused, realizing what I had said when she glanced up at me.

Oh, crap.

Then a smile graced her features. "I love you, too, Bugs," she grinned. "If not for you, I'd still be living with my abusive brother and my parents who basically blocked me from their life. But you showed me what it's like to feel loved and cared for, and you make me feel special.

"It feels… right, being with you and standing up for you, because I love you."

Standing, I helped her to her feet, and we slowly walked back towards my Explorer. The damage to the back bumper wasn't too bad, but it would definitely need a touch-up.

The sudden urge came upon me to tell her the truth about what went on at Tina's party - I mean, I'd just told her I loved her, and I didn't feel it was right to keep something from someone you loved.

"Do you remember that night at Tina's party, when we had our first kiss?" I asked, and she smiled, taking my hand.

"How could I forget?"

"Well, I have a confession to make about that night…"

"What?"

"I knew exactly how to play."

To my surprise, she chuckled. "You know what, Bailey? I knew you did." At the look on my face, she continued, "I heard you and Tina talking in the kitchen when I walked in."

"But, then, why did you…?" I was confused. If she knew that I knew how to play, why didn't she call me on it? She knew I was lying, so why wasn't she upset?

"Because I was thrilled to learn that you liked me as much as I liked you, and because I wanted it to happen, too," she said, softly. I smiled warmly, and kissed her, not caring if the nosy people in the houses saw us or not. I loved the small woman in my arms, and that was all that mattered.

I realized that probably wouldn't be the only time Mary Jane, the woman I loved, would turn the tables on me… or, spin the bottle, if you will.

I'm surprised I remember half of all that… it's been so long since that's happened. Ten years, as a matter of fact. But then again, I have my wife to jog my memory and correct me on a few things.

That's right, my wife - Mary Jane and I have been married for three years. My dad and Tina both attended the wedding, and I dare say I caught sight of my friend wiping her eyes with a tissue. While we weren't issued a license, because same-sex marriages are still illegal here in California, a priest agreed to do the ceremony for us. I still call it one of the best days of my life.

Our life together has been good. Mary Jane went to college and majored in computers, of course, but has also pursued her dream of being an artist, and does illustrations for many children's books.

I, on the other hand, have just applied to become principal of a high school. I've taught for about five years, and it's strange, but I almost feel as though I need to give something back. Having such a horrible principal when I was in high school, Mary Jane thinks I'm resolving something from my past. I don't understand it for sure; I just know that I love what I do.

I've still been writing, but not nearly as much as I used to. Last week my wife got the idea to get me writing my life story more or less, and said she'd help me where she could, wherever she came in.

I just looked at her. "Don't you understand, honey?" I asked. "If I wrote my life story, it would begin with you."

"Bailey, you were seventeen when we met," she reminded me, with a smile. "That's seventeen years of your life that…"

"Never really happened," I finished, and she gave me a strange look. "Okay, so they happened in the sense that I was breathing and alive, and I did things, you know, I didn't just sit there… but until you, I never really felt alive… I never really felt whole."

I guess that's how this all got started… of course, that last comment got me a big smile and a long kiss from my wife. She said I was very sweet, but she wanted me to write about my childhood.

Hey, she just got home from work. She still wears her hair short, but the bangs are a bit longer, and she'll peer through them to shoot me this sexy look that just drives me crazy… Married life is good. Very good…

Uh-oh. She just skimmed the first few pages, and is giving me a stern look for where I started the story.

"I told you so," I smirk.

"Bugs, I want to hear about your childhood!" she insists, giving me a quick kiss, knowing very well what that nickname does to me. Having not seen her since breakfast, our kisses quickly turn passionate, and this writing is forgotten.

My childhood… well, that's a story for another time.