"Yeah, Dara." She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and fumbled for the "off" button on the clock radio. "I’m here." She squinted at the dial and then frowned. "What’s the matter? Did I forget an early meeting this morning or something?"

"No." Brenda heard the anxiety in her boss’s voice. "I just thought I should call before you heard the news on the radio or TV this morning."

"What happened?" Brenda sat up straight in bed, wide awake now.

"It’s that Raines kid, Brenda – the one who copped the deal on the Brighton killing." Dara sighed again. "He’s dead."

"Dead?" Brenda’s heart began to pound so loudly she was afraid Dara would hear it through the telephone. "How?"

"Well, it wasn’t a suicide, if that’s what you’re thinking." She heard Dara’s exhausted sigh. "The guard who delivered his supper tray last night confirmed that the prisoner was alive and well at six o’clock. When he came back to pick up the tray an hour later, he found Raines’s body," Dara continued grimly. "He was inside the cell with the door locked from the outside. Apparently somebody lured him to the door and then shoved a sawed-off dinner knife in his heart."

"Oh, my God……" Brenda’s whisper trailed off into the silence as she tilted the receiver to her forehead, her breathing shaky.

"It doesn’t get much better from there," Dara countered. "We’re dusting the knife for fingerprints, but I seriously doubt we’ll find any except the victim’s….."

"Naturally."

"Naturally," Dara echoed. She took a deep breath. "But I saved the best for last. The supper tray was still next to his body – and there was a dead rat on the plate."

"God….." Brenda fought back a totally unprofessional but understandable sob. "They must have found out – that Raines was going to testify against the mystery man with the gold pendant. The man responsible for bringing the heroin into Port Charles." She was silent for a few seconds and then suddenly she exploded. "We’ve got to find him – Jimbo!!"

"Who?"

"Jimbo!" Brenda searched her mind for the name of the friend Raines had mentioned during their interview. "Jimmy Statler – Nick Raines’ friend – the one who used to pick up the drugs with him. If we can find him, Jimbo might be willing to give us the information we need to put away their boss!"

"But if he’s seen the news, then I doubt he’ll be too anxious to turn state’s evidence, Brenda," Dara suggested gently. "Especially not after the way we "protected" Raines." The sound of her cynicism carried over the telephone. "In fact, the guy with the pendant may *already* have this Jimbo pegged for a snitch and be looking for him, too."

"Then we *have* to find him, Dara! If we can’t convince Jimbo to turn over on the man responsible for the drug trade, then both Raines and Drew Brighton will have died for nothing." Brenda sat up straighter in bed, combing her fingers through her hair. "I’ve got to be in court at 1, but I’ll be in the office in an hour. If I do some checking around, I might be able to locate Jimmy Statler or at least let him know we’re looking for him. That we’ll do everything in our power to protect him….."

"Brenda……" Dara’s voice was pained. "Don’t do this….…."

She was already swinging her legs out of the bed. "What?"

"Blame yourself for what happened to the Raines kid." Dara’s words were clipped and precise.

"I’m not doing that, Dara."

"Like h*ll, you’re not." Brenda held the phone to her ear while she fumbled on the floor for her bedroom slippers. "I know you’re feeling guilty, because even *I* feel bad about it. But these things happen, Brenda. All we can do now is just try to pick up the pieces and concentrate on the cases we *know* we can win."

Brenda stared straight ahead, her eyes cold, her expression grim. "I CAN win this one, Dara – AND the Corinthos case." She glanced at her clock radio again and rose to her feet, reaching for her robe. "I’ll be in the office in about thirty min……" More soft obscenities fell from her lips. "I forgot. I’ll have to call a cab since I don’t have a car." She sighed again and ruffled her hair with her free hand. "I’ll be there as soon as I can."

As soon as she hung up the telephone, Brenda headed for the shower. She began making a mental list of the informers she had used in the past and some of the low-life dives where she might find Jimmy Statler. As the stinging spray beat down on her face, one thing became clear to her.

She HAD to find the man with the golden eagle pendant and stop the drug trade from poisoning Port Charles. And to do that, she was going to have to devote all of her time and attention to finding Jimmy Statler and then keeping him safe. Putting Sonny Corinthos behind bars for murder – normally just icing on the cake – had also become a necessity. With the bad publicity the PCPD would get surrounding Raines’ death, they needed some positive spin, and sending Corinthos to prison for the rest of his life would be just the ticket.

What Brenda COULDN’T afford to do was spend any more time dreaming about a blonde-haired, blue-eyed libertine who was only destined to break her heart anyway. While she had been dining, dancing and drinking with Jax the night before – and had almost succumbed to his seductive maneuvers like so many before her – someone had stabbed Nick Raines.

When Brenda emerged from her bedroom, she was dressed in her best "all business" dark maroon power suit. Her hair was swept into a neat French roll, accessorized by dainty pink pearl stud earrings and a matching single-strand necklace. The heady scent of the roses Jax had brought the night before stopped her cold. She sighed, her face set with determination, when she realized that the flowers were like the man himself – a luxury she could no longer afford to enjoy.

*~*~*~*~*

"BRENDA!!"

She turned to face a winded Ned Ashton as Brenda waited for the "don’t walk" sign in front of the criminal courts building to change. "Geez, Brenda," he puffed, patting his chest, "I’ve been calling your name for the past three blocks!! Have you had a hearing test lately?"

"Sorry, Ned," Brenda smiled, shaking her head. "I’ve been kind of distracted this morning." She glanced up at the traffic signal and held out a hand. "You going my way?"

"Yep." He nodded and put a hand at the small of her back as they stepped off the curb into the street. "I thought I’d catch the opening arguments in the Corinthos case – if it doesn’t make you nervous having me in the gallery."

"Not at all." Ned bounded a few steps ahead of her and then held the glass door open as they entered the imposing structure. "I should have guessed that you’d be here this morning – since the deceased WAS a member of your family, after all."

"In a manner of speaking." Ned grimaced as they headed for a bank of elevators. "Jason wasn’t exactly on speaking terms with the Quartermaines ever since his accident. But still, he WAS Monica and Alan’s son, even if he didn’t want to own up to it anymore."

"Oh, cr*p……." Brenda suddenly sighed as she turned to look over her shoulder. "Don’t look now, but we’ve got company……"

Ned muttered a few stronger obscenities when he glanced behind them. A battalion of news reporters was headed in their direction, led by a tall, blonde woman with two cameramen in tow. "Great," he sighed, shaking his head. "All this case needs is a little *more* publicity."

"Miss Barrett!!" The blonde waved a microphone in Brenda’s direction while urging her associates to hurry. "Miss Barrett!" she repeated, barely managing to stop before barreling into Brenda and Ned. "What can you tell us about your strategy for the Corinthos trial?"

"My strategy is very simple, Miss Hill," Brenda replied smoothly. "I’m going to win."

Tiffany Hill, a former soft-porn movie queen, was the news anchor and resident busybody at channel WLPC. She gave Brenda a feline smile and shook her shoulders provocatively in the direction of the rolling cameras. "You’re rather confident, Miss Barrett, considering that we hear the District Attorney’s office has nothing more than circumstantial evidence against Mr. Corinthos."

"I’m confident because I know that Michael Corinthos murdered Mr. Morgan, Miss Hill," Brenda countered, "and I’m going to prove it." She looked up and gave silent thanks when the chime sounded and the elevator doors swished open. "Now if you’ll excuse me……"

"Well, considering how busy you’ve been lately, Miss Barrett, I’d say the only thing you’d be able to prove is how well your hair spray holds up under the pressure."

Brenda froze in place, giving Tiffany a look that could have shattered glass. "EXCUSE me, Miss Hill?"

"The pressure of such an *exhausting* social life, Miss Barrett," Tiffany crooned. "After all, you’ve been seen TWICE now in the company of Port Charles’ most mysterious hero, Kismet……"

"What I do after hours has NOTHING to do with my ability to perform my job, Miss Hill," Brenda growled through gritted teeth.

"No – but if the folks at the PCPD were performing THEIR jobs well, I’d say Kismet probably wouldn’t have had to save your life *twice* in 7 days, would he, Miss Barrett?"

Ned put a restraining hand on Brenda’s arm when he saw her entire body growing tenser by the minute. "I thought we were discussing the Corinthos case, Miss Hill," Brenda said icily. "That has *nothing* to do with….."

"We were discussing your active social life, Miss Barrett," Tiffany interrupted, still smiling like a Cheshire cat. She clucked her tongue and looked off into the distance dreamily. "You’re such a lucky woman, Brenda…… being swept into the arms of Kismet one night, then spending the evening in the company of Port Charles’ most *elusive* billionaire bachelor the next……."

A shiver went through Brenda’s body. "I’m really not interested in your speculations, Miss Hill……."

"Oh, it’s no speculation, Miss Barrett." She came closer, sticking her microphone uncomfortably close to Brenda’s face. "My sources tell me that you DID have dinner with Mr. Jasper Jacks at his private estate last night on Spoon Island, and didn’t return until very late……"

"All of which has NOTHING to do……."

"Too late, in fact," Tiffany gloated, "to save the life of the young man killed in the city jail last night, wasn’t it?" She theatrically consulted her ragtag notes. "One…….uh…….. Nicholas Raines?"

Brenda wasn’t at all surprised that Tiffany knew about Raines’ death. She and Dara had drafted a brief press release as soon as she got to the office that morning. "The District Attorney’s office has already issued a statement regarding Mr. Raines’ death, Miss Hill," she replied coolly, "and we deeply regret……"

"You regret the fact that you were so busy cooing and cuddling in the candlelight with Jasper Jacks that you neglected to take every necessary precaution to protect your informant – is THAT what you regret, Miss Barrett?"

"I think Miss Barrett has answered just about enough of your questions, Miss Hill!" Ned suddenly exclaimed. He wrapped a protective arm around Brenda’s waist and ushered her in the direction of the elevator, which had arrived during the confrontation. "If you need any further information about the case, I suggest you contact me directly at the Mayor’s office!"

"But Mr. Ashton!!…….."

Brenda managed to retain her composure until the elevator doors closed in front of her. She wilted slightly into Ned’s waiting arms, muttering obscenities. "That Tiffany Hill woman is……..she’s a ………"

Ned gathered Brenda in his arms for a reassuring hug. "She’s a black scourge on the name of good journalists everywhere, Brenda," he whispered, pulling back to look deeply into her eyes. "Don’t let what she said about the Raines kid get to you….."

Brenda sniffed once and grimaced. "Gee – news travels fast around here."

Ned nodded. "Justus was on the phone with Mac Scorpio first thing this morning."

"Oh, God……" Brenda sighed and shook her head, moving out of Ned’s embrace. "Which means Dara will be getting a call from Mac soon and we’ll get the blame."

"Why should YOUR department get the blame?" Ned asked, half laughing. "It’s not the DA’s job to keep the suspects alive long enough to see a judge and jury!" He bumped his hip against Brenda’s consolingly. "Come on, Brenda…..try to lighten up a little. Why don’t you go to the movies with me tonight?" He smiled at her, his dimples deep enough to float a modest yacht. "I’ll even let YOU pick the movie."

Brenda sighed. "It sounds tempting, Ned, but I just can’t……"

"Come on….." He extended a hand as the elevator doors opened on their floor. "We’ll celebrate you putting Sonny Corinthos behind bars."

She laughed loudly. "That’s REALLY what I call the power of positive thinking, Ned!" Brenda cast him a wary look. "After all, it’s just opening arguments this afternoon, and Tiffany wasn’t too far off the mark – all we’ve got so far IS circumstantial….."

"But I know you’ll make it stick, Counselor," Ned replied with a broad grin. He leaned forward to give Brenda a quick kiss on the cheek. "I’ll pick you up around 8."

Members of the Quartermaine family surrounded Ned before Brenda could object any further. Telling herself that she would call him later to decline his kind invitation, Brenda steeled herself for her afternoon in court, squared her shoulders, and marched towards the large wooden doors to Judge Monahan’s courtroom.

Judge Daniel Monahan was legendary in Port Charles as a stickler for promptness. When Brenda entered the courtroom, she found many of the key players in the case of The State versus Michael Corinthos, Junior, had already assembled. The suspect’s wife, Carly Benson Quartermaine Corinthos, was seated near the front of the gallery on the defendant’s side. She was a strikingly attractive woman, blonde and statuesque. Her aqua-colored snakeskin print coat dress made a bold statement, hugging every curve of her body as it hung just below her knees. The taupe silk sheath beneath brought out the earth tones in her coloring.

Various Quartermaines, including the victim’s parents, sat on the opposite side of the gallery. A petite, dark-haired woman sat with them – one Elizabeth Weber, if Brenda recalled correctly. From the accounts she had read, the Weber girl had been the one to find Jason’s body the night of the murder and summoned the police.

Beautiful women weren’t difficult to find that afternoon, including the attorney for the defense, Alexis Davis. Her deep auburn hair blended nicely with the nearly black suit she wore, the only concession to light colors being her white blouse. When her client entered the room in the custody of the bailiffs, Brenda thought that perhaps they had color-coordinated their wardrobes for the day. Michael Corinthos, Junior, was clad in an expensive Italian silk suit of very dark gray. A maroon tie contrasted vividly with the stark whiteness of his shirt.

At precisely 1 o’clock, Judge Monahan entered the courtroom and gaveled the proceedings to order. A jury was quickly and efficiently selected and by 3 o’clock, Brenda and Alexis both delivered their opening statements.

Judge Monahan glanced up at the clock. "I believe we have time for the state’s first witness, Miss Barrett," he intoned seriously. "Unless you want to wait until tomorrow."

"Now is fine, Your Honor," Brenda replied smoothly. She turned halfway back towards the gallery. "The state calls Detective Alex Garcia to the stand."

After swearing to tell the truth and being seated, Garcia stared calmly as Brenda approached him. "Detective Garcia, would you tell us where you were on the night of March 22 of this year?"

"I was on patrol down near the docks when I received a call from dispatch to respond to a possible homicide at the Port Charles Hotel."

"And what time was that, Detective?"

"I believe it was approximately 11 o’clock, Miss Barrett."

"And what did you find when you got to the hotel, Detective?"

"I was met in the lobby by the hotel’s manager, Mr. Alan Quartermaine, Junior. He told me that a young woman who worked as a hostess in the hotel restaurant, the Grille, had found a body in one of the rooms upstairs." Garcia flipped open a small notebook. "The young woman’s name was Elizabeth Weber."

"And was Elizabeth Weber in the lobby with Mr. Quartermaine?"

"NO – she was probably still trying to suck the life out of poor Jason."

The quiet dignity in the courtroom was shattered by Carly Corinthos’s outburst. "Well, it’s true," Carly objected as an amused titter ran through the courtroom. "She was so hot for him she probably tried to give him mouth-to-mouth for two hours after he died!!"

"Order in the court!!" Judge Monahan rapped his gavel sharply to try to get the proceedings back to some semblance of civility. Alexis Davis leaned far back in her chair to speak quietly to Carly, who then sulked took her seat again after apologizing to the judge and court.

Brenda grimaced as she turned back to face Garcia. {So much for a quiet, simple case.} "So, Detective – when did you first meet Miss Weber?"

"Mr. Quartermaine accompanied me to the eighth floor. Miss Weber was outside in the hallway with some hotel security guards. She was pretty shaken up." He consulted his notes again. "We found Mr. Morgan’s body in room 829."

"And what was the condition of the body, Detective?"

"The deceased was fully clothed in a black tuxedo, Miss Barrett. He was lying in the bed, his hands crossed on his chest and his eyes closed." Garcia shook his head. "I’ve been a policeman for a lot of years, but I have to tell you – this is one of the strangest ones I’ve ever seen."

"Why is that, Detective?"

"Because the victim almost look like he was asleep, Miss Barrett!" Garcia exclaimed. "His hands were crossed and he was all laid out like he was in a coffin. Except for that one BIG bullet hole in his left temple and the pool of blood on the pillow next to his head." He shook his head again. "I’d bet my bottom dollar that the deceased HAD to know his killer. It sure didn’t look like anybody had moved the body, and to make that kind of hole in the head, the shooter would have had to be at point blank range."

"Objection!!" Alexis Davis rose to her feet. "The detective isn’t a medical professional, nor is he qualified to make that kind of observation, Your Honor," she announced smugly.

"The jury will disregard the detective’s last statements," Judge Monahan announced, looking slightly annoyed as he turned to Brenda. "Please call the coroner as a witness if you wish to have us consider evidence about the cause of death, Miss Barrett," he rebuked her.

"Yes, Your Honor," Brenda smiled. "I’ll do just that." She asked Garcia a few more inconsequential questions about Elizabeth Weber’s statement and the condition of the room before ending her questioning. As she sat back down at the prosecutor’s table, she gave herself a mental pat on the back. At least she had planted a seed of suspicion in the jury’s minds about the victim being well-acquainted with his killer.

After Alexis Davis posed a few polite questions to Garcia, Judge Monahan dismissed him and called a halt to the day’s proceedings. Brenda looked around to see if Ned was still in the courtroom so she could tell him she wouldn’t be able to make the movie. But Ned was busy consoling Jason Morgan’s parents. Apparently, testimony regarding their son’s condition at his death had rattled them badly.

It was shortly after 5 o’clock when Brenda emerged from the criminal courts building. She muttered a few choice obscenities – hailing a cab in downtown Port Charles was a challenge at most times, but at rush hour it was nearly impossible. Just as she looked down to rub one aching foot against the other, a passerby bumped her elbow, knocking her off balance. Brenda was about to have an up-close-and-personal encounter with the pavement when a strong arm went around her waist. She looked up to see sparkling eyes the color of a spring sky and hair of spun gold fairy-tale quality.

"Whoa!!" Jax smiled at her broadly as he set her on her feet once again. He cupped her elbows in his hands and pulled her flush against him as the rush-hour crowds around them multiplied exponentially. "Dare I hope that this means that you’re FALLING for me, Miss Barrett?"

Brenda jerked away from him as much as the crush of people would allow. "Don’t flatter yourself, Mr. Jacks," she replied coolly. She brushed some stray hair back out of her eyes and shrugged her shoulders, trying to regain her footing and dignity. "I’m afraid I’m not about to turn into a sidewalk, like your *other* friend, the infamous Bunny!"

She wished mightily that it was earlier in the day, when she could have spun on her heel and stalked away from him haughtily. But with the crowd of people around her, the best Brenda could manage was three proud paces before Jax caught up to her again. "A sidewalk, Miss Barrett?" he whispered innocently into her ear, trying to take her arm.

"A sidewalk, Mr. Jacks." Brenda smiled acidly. "Something you can *lay*, and then walk all over. At will." She took heart when a hole in the throng opened in front of her, but then her spirits sank when the "don’t walk" sign lit on the traffic signal and she was trapped with him at the corner.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk……." Jax shook his head. "And I thought we were getting along so WELL, Miss Barrett. Especially after last night….."

"*Last night* should have never happened, Mr. Jacks," Brenda growled, tapping a toe impatiently, waiting for the light to change. "And the way things have been going so far, *today* certainly hasn’t been one for the top ten lists."

Jax nodded thoughtfully. "Then let me do something to change that." Brenda caught her breath when his arm slipped around her waist again and he turned her towards the cross street. "My limo is parked just around the corner. Can I give you a lift somewhere?"

Brenda chewed on her lower lip. The prospect of walking back to the office – during rush hour – on feet that were already aching from several hours of abuse by painful high-heeled shoes – was daunting, to say the least. Finding a cab was nigh onto impossible, and to round out a "perfect" day – just as she glanced up at Jax, a stray raindrop fell onto her forehead.

"Please, Miss Barrett?" Jax wheedled. "You don’t have to look so apprehensive, you know." He gave her a wink and a smile that would have melted the Teflon coating right off Lois’s mother’s favorite frypan. "It’s only a ride home – not a promise to surrender your first-born child."

Brenda grimaced, but then her shoulders slumped as she felt another raindrop hit her shoulder. "All right, Mr. Jacks. You win. I’ll accept the ride." Jax had an arm around her waist before the words were out of her mouth, carefully guiding her to the right and towards the large black car. Thomas stood at the rear door with his usual smile and bow when he opened it for her. "But only because it’s starting to rain," she added, lowering herself onto the plush upholstery in the back seat with a groan.

"Of course." Jax arched an eyebrow at Thomas wryly and then got in next to her. "Because it’s starting to rain."

Brenda sank back into the soft cushions, her eyes closed. Thomas got in and shifted the car into gear but as they pulled away from the curb, she shot back upright, eyes wide. "And not home – back to the office, please!"

"The office?" Jax frowned. He put a knuckle to her chin to force her to face him. "I’m having a strong sense of déjà vu about this, Miss Barrett," he whispered, stroking her cheek gently with his first finger. "And I have to tell you that it’s dealing quite a blow to my already fragile male ego."

Brenda’s breath hitched in her chest at the fire she saw in his eyes. "Jax……"

"You promised to have dinner with me again tonight, Brenda," he murmured, laying a finger across her lips to silence her. Jax swallowed any further objections by leaning down to replace his finger with his lips, drinking from the sweetness of her mouth like a thirsty man in the Sahara.

Brenda clutched for his shoulders – his arms – anything to steady herself in the whirlwind his kiss created. When he lifted his lips to trail them across her face to the spot just beneath her ear, she was gasping for air. "I never agreed to have dinner with you, Jax….."

"Stop being so stubborn." The imperative came out on a husky drawl. "Just do it, Brenda," Jax pleaded, nipping at the pearl studs in her ear with his teeth. "Have dinner with me tonight." She took a breath but he seized her lips once again. Stifling her unwillingness, he cupped her face in his hands and searched her mouth with the velvet insistence of his tongue.

When he finally broke the kiss, she tried to pull away from him on the seat. "Jax, I need to work……."

"Then I’ll take you back to work and have Thomas pick you up later." Jax slid one hand down to her waist, urging her back towards him. "We’ll have a late supper at Wyndemere. You can’t just starve yourself for the sake of your job….."

Brenda managed to place her hands on his shoulders to lever her body away from his. "Jax, I told you last night that I couldn’t do this – and it’s not just dinner." She stared downwards as she took a deep breath. "I have a lot of work that needs my full concentration right now….."

She felt the muscles in his body clench. "This is because of what that woman said earlier today, isn’t it? That anchor woman, Tiffany Hill?"

Brenda tipped her head to the side in amazement. "You heard about that already?"

Jax relaxed back in the seat, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. "My car is equipped with the latest state-of-the-art video equipment, Brenda," he said, gesturing towards a control panel that backed the front seat. "I had some errands to run this morning and I turned on the WLPC broadcast while I was on the way from one to the next….."

Brenda grimaced and sat back next to him. "Yes, well Miss Hill certainly knows how to *grab* her viewers’ attention."

"I’m seriously thinking of buying WLPC, you know," Jax growled. "Just so I can have the intense pleasure of firing Miss Tiffany Hill."

Brenda stared down into her lap and then sighed. "She was right though, Jax," she whispered, turning to face him. She fumbled with the cuticles on her right hand as she spoke. "The way I behaved last night……." Jax saw a faint blush stain her cheeks, even in the darkness of the car. "…..the way we acted at dinner, and dancing……." She finally looked up at him. "Well, it’s just not ME. I can’t afford to lose my focus like that – not with people’s lives hanging in the balance."

"*Everyone* deserves some down-time, Brenda," Jax argued. "Some time to just kick back and relax and get away from all the pressure." He tipped her face up again as she continued to stare self-consciously at her lap. "You’re only human, you know," he smiled, "irregardless of the high goals you set for yourself."

Jax leaned in to kiss her again but Brenda quickly pushed him away this time. "Jax, I can’t do this!" she cried softly. "This just isn’t ME!!" When he finally sat back and stared at her curiously, she sighed and turned her head to the side. "No man’s ever affected me this way……." As visions of a throaty voice, mysterious face, and black-clad body flitted through her mind, Brenda put the flat of her hand to her forehead in exasperation. "I just………I’m too confused."

"Don’t you think I am, too?" When Brenda looked up at him, she was surprised to see his cynical half-smile in the darkened car. "Do you know that this morning, I sat in a meeting of the city’s most influential business leaders and insisted on "Brenda arbitration" instead of "binding arbitration"?" Jax shook his head sadly, took her hands in his, and placed a kiss at her wrist. "You’ve touched me in a way no other woman ever has before, Brenda….." When she took a breath, he held up a hand to stifle her objection. "And that’s NOT just a line, despite the fact that you were probably going to bring up a certain blonde-haired cottontail again."

What Jax couldn’t admit to Brenda was that she had not only affected his daytime persona. After she had left Wyndemere the night before, he had gone out on patrol as usual in full Kismet regalia. But he found himself distracted, constantly thinking of dark brown, soulful eyes and luscious red lips that tasted like heaven. He had regained his edge just in time to break up a ring of car thieves, but had uncharacteristically let one of them get away while waiting for the distant wail of police sirens to grow closer.

"It’s not like me to behave this way, and it’s not like you, either," Jax continued, squeezing Brenda’s hands for emphasis. "It’s US – together." When she shook her head in disbelief and tried to turn away, he put a knuckle to her chin to force her to look at him. "We were MEANT to be together, you and I."

Brenda took a shaky breath. "Even if I believe you, Jax," she whispered, "it can’t be NOW." She turned abruptly when she felt the car slow to a stop. When she peered out the tinted windows, she let out a long sigh. "I really do have work to do tonight," she said, suddenly all business as she grabbed for her briefcase. The smile she gave him as Thomas opened the rear door was bittersweet. "But I promise – once these cases are all over, I’ll give you a call."

Jax lifted his chin a notch, and then nodded quickly with a sad smile. Brenda lifted her hand to gently caress the side of his face, and then took another deep breath before propelling herself out of the limo. He watched until she went through the revolving doors of the Municipal Courts building, then finally allowing his head to droop forward onto his chest.

Thomas closed the rear door and then waited until he got back into the front seat before turning to Jax with a wry smile. "Um….um……um……." He laughed softly. "I never thought I would live to see the day that *Jasper Jacks* would be the one to sit around and wait for the phone to ring!"

"Home?" Thomas frowned at Jax, looked up at the Courts building, and then back at Jax. "Are you sure you don’t want me to wait for Miss Barrett to come out later?"

Jax settled back into the seat, folding his arms. "No," he replied firmly. "I want you to go back to Wyndemere, as soon as possible." He stared at the façade of the courts building until it faded from view, and then muttered beneath his breath, "Despite what Miss Barrett thinks, she and I are going to see each other again. Tonight. One way or another."

To be continued…….