HEY... I'm back - new name but same writing style. (Oy, the troubles... ) I'm finally posting a sequel/continuation to a story I posted a long while ago call Straight From Your Heart. I couldn't get this to work out in the same tone as the previous story, maybe because the two principals have to interact. I hope that people will still enjoy it. I did enjoy writing it.

Here's the link to Straight From Your Heart if you need a refresher or didn't read it earlier and would like to..... (oops... forgot to add the link....)

http://forums.usanetwork.com/index.php?showtopic=406316


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Chapter 1

Hope Quinn Thornton woke slowly, allowing the heaviness of sleep to ease before opening her eyes. Tightening her arms around the pillow she held, she stretched, feeling the pull on her muscles, the lengthening of her ligaments. Releasing the stretch, she finally felt awake enough to open her eyes. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was still early, only 7 o'clock. Stretching again her gaze landed on the photo next to the clock and smiled.

She had been greeted each morning by the smiling faces in that photo for over three years now. Today she wasn't struck by the usual sadness that descended at not recognizing a single face in that photo save her own. She had made a connection with someone. I was new, it was exciting and scary, and it was real. As she stared out the window from her bed, wondering what he was thinking about the what had been transpired over the last few months, Hope realized she had actually turned that corner almost a year ago. Hope had begun to return her journey back. Every day since had slowly gotten better. Days didn't drag on endlessly, color, scent, and light slowly returned as hope returned.

Hope's return began innocently enough. She had noticed him. It had taken her awhile to realize that what she noticed was the change in the man. She was very surprised to discover that on some level that she must have noticed him before. Over the next several days she had taken to looking for him. Waiting for him. Watching for him. It didn't take long to recognize the look he wore; she had seen the same look reflected back at her as she brushed her teeth every morning and every night. It was the torn, bruised and battered look of survival, of stumbling through long, endless days, and longer, more endless nights.

She found herself watching for him as she left and came home from work, often going days without seeing him, her anxiety slowly increasing until finally she did see him again. she took leaving her apartment early most mornings to wait outside until he would leave his own building across the narrow courtyard and walk off in the direction of the subway. Once she saw him off and on his way, she would join the flow of people heading uptown.

It was as the fall turned to winter and the winter yielded to spring, and his burdens seemed heavier upon him, that she began to notice other things about him. His eyes, his lips, his hands and she wondered what it would be like to gaze up into those eyes, to trace the outline of those lips, to entwine her fingers within his. This man she had only seen from a distance. This man she had neither spoken with nor met.

A week later, she began the first letter. 'How do I say this... Words are difficult sometimes, hard to express what you truly feel…'

Weeks later, she saw him returning to the building and without thinking, she fell into step behind him and followed him into the elevator. Her heart was beating so loudly in her ears, she was surprised that the others in the car weren't staring at her. But no one noticed her or paid any attention to the percussive pounding, not even him.

He exited on the car on the eighth floor; she got off on the ninth and ran down the fire exit stairs to the lower floor. She didn't see him, but she heard a door slam closed down the hall. Slowly she walked down the hallway to stand in front of the door she thought had closed. Pressing her palm against it, she leaned closer until she could hear the muffled sounds of keys and other items landing on a counter or table. This had to be his apartment. No one else had gotten off the elevator.

She returned three days later to leave that first letter, the letter that had taken her days to write and weeks to deliver. Once again as she walked down the hallway her stomach did somersaults. Stopping outside the door she knew was his; she kneeled and extended a shaking hand towards the gap at the bottom of the door. Slowly she slid the envelope as far under the door as she could. Pulling her arm back, she raised her fingers to her lips to still their shaking. Staring at the small corner of white paper visible from the doorway she almost reached out to grab it back, but quickly stood and raced back down the hallway to the elevator, before she could change her mind.

That evening she watched from her window, waiting for the lights to come on in his apartment. She watched as he poured his drink, she watched as he stood at the breakfast bar and removed a takeout container from a bag. She watched as he sorted through his mail, tossing all aside except for one – it had to be hers, the envelope she had pushed through the door. She watched as he opened the envelope, she watched as he flattened out the sheet of paper and read the letter. She watched as he raised his head and looked around his apartment. She watched as he read the letter again. Sitting in her darkened apartment, she drew in a fresh breath of air, one that felt like the first in a very long time as s smile briefly play across her lips behind her fingertips. It was unlike any smile in a very long time. If she'd had to categorize it, she realized now that it had been one filled with hope.

Then there was last night…

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Bobby Goren awoke alone in his bed. But for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel quite so alone. His anonymous letter writer was no longer anonymous. After weeks of questions, he finally had some answers. He had an address, he had a name, he had a face, he had a voice. He had even met her last night.
Why do I scare you so much?” he asked quietly as he stepped to the side and allowed her both some room to breath and some room to close the door.
“You don’t. This does.” She answered, her eyes still looking at the carpet.

"Don't you think this scares me too? But your letters… they meant something." He bent down to get her attention and as he straightened to his full height, he drew her gaze with him. "There hasn't been" – he looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath before continuing, "There hasn't been much for me to look forward to, to anticipate."

As his voice choked, she had looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, "You gave me hope." As he looked down at her with his own tear- filled eyes – a single tear slipped slowly over the rim and slid slowly down his cheek. She stepped forward and reached up to gently swipe the track of its path. His hand reached up for hers and held it in place as he took a shuddering breath. Dropping her hand from his face, she wrapped both arms around him and as he slowly and tentatively he brought his arms around to embrace her, she laid her head against his chest. He tightened his embrace and they clung to each other as they ended their separate journeys through fear and loss and began their journey together to…

Bobby went out to the kitchen to start the coffeemaker before shucking off his boxers and t-shirt and jumping in the shower. As the water cascaded down his body, he rehearsed the phone call he planned to make.

"Good morning, Hope. I hope you slept well, I know I did. For what was probably the first time in months, if not years. I was wondering if you had any free time today?"

Boy, if this didn't make him feel and sound like an awkward sixteen-year old again, he didn't know what would. Dressed in jeans and long-sleeved sports shirt, he grabbed his cell phone and walked over to the window to see if he could tell if Hope was awake yet. He knew which window was hers, just as she knew which windows were his. He saw her cat, Quills, sitting on the window ledge. But no sign of any movement, or any other sign of Hope. Glancing at the DVD player, he saw that it was only 8 o'clock, too early to call. Their conversation last night had been unlike any he'd ever been a part of before. It had been at times, tentative and embarrassed. It had also been honest and revealing. It was several hours later that he fianlly returned to his building. Both still wondering what awaited them.

He poured his first cup of coffee of the day as he flicked through the channels on the TV remote, finally stopping on one of the cable news programs. Famine, war, and pestilence abounded throughout the world this morning, but today that wasn't his world. Today his world was one filled with Hope.

........... Chapter 2 coming soon..................

Hooray! Sequel! This looks like it will be great. Keep it coming.

Oh, goody! ::claps hands in excitement:: This calls for a party!

::Runs off to gather food and drink, along with a table and some plates, napkins, cups......::

Don't forget the strawberries and cream! Good going, now lets get to chapter two.

Okay, looks like there's a little bit of interest..... so here's Chapter 2.

I started playing around with the tone of this chapter after posting the previous one. This chapter and hopefully the rest will be more in keeping with the tone of that first story....

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Chapter 2

Hope woke fully after hours of fitful dozing, dozing while replaying those last few hours from last evening. Though the meeting the previous evening had begun with nerve-wracking apprehension and embarrassment, the few hours Hope had spent with him had done much to reassure that her judgment had not failed. In the midst of her isolation, she found some comfort in realizing that her judgment had not failed her. In her letters to him, trapped in the midst of her own isolation, she had bared her own stark loneliness to not only his eyes, but her own, while exposing his own loneliness to his eyes. She had been fearful of the possible consequences of what she had come to see as 'her mission', her efforts to pull this one man back from the edge of a darker unknown. In doing so, she had also come to realize she was accomplishing the same mission for herself. The unsettling picture it revealed of her own bleak state of affairs prodded her on even more. Her quest to save him had morphed into a search for her own salvation and deliverance.

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Visions materialized from the darkness of his coffee, the images of the night before pushed to the surface of his memory before dissolving in the mist of steam rising from the cup. He just kept seeing it; he couldn't help but see it. It was there for anyone to see. It was in her eyes, it was in the tone of her voice. There was no denying that it had been there. He had been offered a gift of tenderness. Why or how it had come to him, he didn't understand. She didn't know him, couldn't know about him. Couldn't know how desperately he longed to be valued. He had also seen a flash of recognition, recognition that they shared a sad truth – they seemed to be traveling on the same road - one of silence, of darkness and of loneliness – she had not traveled as long or as far down that road. The questions that hung over them, were of course obvious. Was it too late for him to turn back? The only certainty in the equation was the fact that he wanted to, no, he needed to see her again. The terrifying variable was whether she was willing to see him, now that they had finally met.

He was stunned to realize that he was near hyperventilating. The phone continued to ring in his ear as he consciously slowed his breathing. He had stared at the business card she had pressed into his palm as he left her, really only a few hours ago.

Hope Thornton
Associate Editor

Hudson Publishing.

Written on the back in the blue-black iridescent pen was her cell phone number. There were very few more obvious indications that she was willing to see him again; a willingness to see if more awaited them than this uncommon introduction.

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"Hello… Hope Thornton." She was startled by the ringing phone, and that surprised her. She would have wagered that her thoughts were so scattered and all over the place that she wouldn't have been able to focus on the manuscript she was reading.

"Good morning, Hope. It's Bobby. Bobby Goren."

Nervous now, she smiled into the phone, she said, "I ... I did recognize your voice, I knew which Bobby this was. Good morning." She would have remembered his soft, quiet voice, even if she'd had to wait another 30 years before she heard it again.

"You know more than one?"

"Actually… no, I don't. You're the only one."

"So…" he began. He didn't know how to continue.

As the silence continued, Hope ventured in, "So… um… well… last night was..."

"Yeah, last night was..." Bobby stared at the carpet as he tried to think of a way out of this hole. "Well, that's kind of why I called. I thought there might be more to… that we could continue with that conversation… or ... or start a different one. Sometime. Maybe later… today?"

As his mind raced to counter any protest she might offer, he became aware that the short pause he'd been expecting was extending into an uncomfortable silence.

"Hope, are you still there?" Bobby asked apprehensively. He stood and began pacing around the apartment.

"Yes, yes I'm still here. I'm sorry. I… I…"

Crestfallen, he tried to let her off the hook, graciously, "That's all right, I realize this was short notice and… maybe I shouldn't have called..."

"No, no, that's not what I meant." She interrupted him. She realized her palms were sweating when she nearly dropped the phone. "I… I'd like to… I'm just still feeling a little awkward and embarrassed by …" that I've fallen in love with a complete stranger.

"By… by the letters?" Bobby asked as he switched the phone to his other hand, having just wiped it free of sweat on the leg of his jeans.

"Yes, I suppose so, among other things." She stood and started pacing around her office. "They… in the light of day they seem such a Harlequin romance kind of thing to do …" she didn't know how to continue and she let the sentence trail off.

Leaning his forehead onto the cool glass of a window, he hoped the chill would seep into his feverish thoughts, "Do… are you sorry that you … wrote them?" He asked hesitantly. Please... please say no.

So quietly did she reply, he barely heard her response, "N…no. I'm not sorry."

As his heart began to beat again, Bobby pressed, "Then have lunch with me. Meet me for coffee. Anything. I have questions…"

Ohmigod, he has questions! I don't have answers... all I have are my own questions. Not seeing a way out, and not really wanting to see one, she stammered, "My… my schedule is pretty open today or even tomorrow. Um, when were you thinking?" Silently, she amended the today to everyday. There had been an absolute lack of activity on her social calendar of late. Again, late equaling a somewhat qualified time frame, in this particular instance, a time frame extending to almost three years now.

"Now. I was thinking now." Bobby blurted out. "If that's not a problem…"

Hope stopped the pacing she had begun as soon as she answered her phone, and sank slowly down onto the small sofa in her office. She was feeling lightheaded, so much so that she feared she might pass out, but she continued, "Come down whenever you're ready. You'll have to sign in with the guard downstairs, I'll… I'll call down to let him know to expect you, and he'll show you the way up."

"How 'bout we say in an hour? Um… around 11:30?"

"See you soon, then." Hope agreed.

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As Bobby let the hand the held his cell phone fall onto the sofa, he leaned back against the cushion and stared up at the ceiling, placing his other hand on his chest so he could feel the rapid beating of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest.

So, the rumor that he was still alive, seemed to be true. It had been so long since he'd felt hopeful about any aspect of his life, that this sudden revelation of Hope and exhilaration bordered on outright optimism.

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As Hope flipped her phone closed, her heart leaped into her throat and she found it difficult draw a breath. She had no one to blame but herself. What had she thought would happen when she started her letter writing campaign? What had she wanted to happen when she started her letter writing campaign? Wasn't it a scene similar to last night's or a phone call like this in the back of her mind all along? Now that it was starting to happen, she was fighting down her inclination to slam closed the door she opened.


............. Chapter 3 Coming Soon .............

I was hoping there would be more today and there was! Hooray!

Keep it coming I want to see how this interesting beginning turns out.

LOL!!! My aim is to keep the readers happy and coming back for more....

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Chapter 3

Hope was one of only a few editors and assistants in the offices of Hudson Publishing on this Saturday, the quiet on the fifteenth floor was a stark contrast to its normal commotion. So quiet, she would have been able to hear the soft ding of the elevator as it arrived, even if she hadn't jumped up from her desk when the guard called to say her 'friend was on the way up' and been halfway to the door. Taking a deep breath to calm her jittery nerves, she put on what she hoped was a calm, welcoming smile on her face, and walked out of her office to greet Bobby. Despite her nervousness, she was excited to see him again.

She stopped in her tracks at the sight of him and her breath once again caught in her throat. In the space of just a few hours, she seemed to have forgotten what he looked like, when just yesterday she could have described him to anyone, his image burned into her memory. She noticed several differences immediately in just his posture and his attire. These last few months spent watching him, especially those first months, she had seen him wearing suits and ties. Almost over night, she had witnessed a decline of customary concern about his appearance. His attire changed drastically, and unless he had several of the exact same shirt, he'd taken to wearing the same one almost daily. Shaving became an even more hit or miss proposition. There were times when he looked almost slovenly. Today though, the jeans he wore were well-fitting and his blue shirt, with its long sleeves rolled up to the elbow. While still casual, he looked good. Actually he looked great. He'd even shaved. There was more to it than his clothes, for the first time in weeks, in months, his eyes revealed more than a dull, personal ache. As if a lamp had been turned on inside, his eyes now sparkled with light.

With her hand pressed against her stomach to keep the butterflies from escaping, she walked towards him. Hoping to fake a calm that she didn't possess, she continued out to greet him.

Riding up in the elevator, his heart had been racing, now it was skipping beats, the staccato rhythm even more unsettling. She was just as he remembered. Bobby watched her walk towards him. Her auburn hair was thrown back behind her shoulders. She wore a long sleeve white shirt, with a long multi-colored stripe scarf wrapped around her neck, jeans and boots.

"I hope I'm not too early. I didn't realize how close this place is to our apartment building." He said as they walked towards her office.

"No, not too early at all." She admitted, "Since you called, I kind of lost my motivation…" She snuck a sidelong glance at him to find that he was watching her, as a smirk of amusement touched those full lips – which is when she stumbled.

His hand reached out to steady her, his touch reassuring – the simple contact a reminder that it had been too long since she'd allowed anyone close enough to save her from falling on her face.

"Are you all right?" Concern laced his words more than she would have thought possible.

Once again, feeling flustered, she hastily stepped up to her desk, "Yes, I'm fine... loose carpet. Let… let me just straighten up here a little and then we can go. Come in and sit down, it won't take me very long."

"Take your time. Don't mind me." Bobby wandered over to a set of bookshelves filled with the Hudson Publishing imprint. Pulling out one and leafing quickly through it, while glancing at the titles of several others, he asked, "Did you edit any of these?"

"Oh, don't I wish! No, those are merely for show, to ease the jitters of uneasy writers. I work with mostly first time writers and they're usually nervous types. Those books lend the illusion that I might really know what I'm doing, rather than that I just love to read." She joked.

Bobby turned to face her and froze as his gaze landed on the credenza behind her desk. Pictures of her family, he assumed. Several sent a chill through him. One showed Hope laughing up into the face of a man about her age, and another with the same man, this time with a young child about 4 years old. There was an easy inference here, an easy conclusion and it was tragedy. He knew alone when he saw it, he was the poster boy for alone and he knew Hope Thornton was alone.

As Bobby sat, Hope continued to busy herself with clearing her desktop. "What?" Hope happened to glance up and found him smiling. Her heart contracted at the sight.

Bobby waved his hand indicating her note covered pages - the post-its dangling from the edges of pages. "Oh, it's the post-its. I do the same thing. Between the two of us, we're probably keeping the company in business."

Hope laughed, "I love post-its. They're the greatest things ever. I've found it easier than keeping a notebook around and then having to refer back to the book later anyway. This way I make little notes constantly. When I finish I'm able to go back, expand on my thoughts and write up my recommendations."

"Makes sense," Bobby admitted as he nodded, "But 'the greatest thing ever'?" Bobby asked.

"Absolutely! I stand by my emphatic comment and… and don't mock." She laughed as she reached behind her to grab jacket off the back of the chair. "I can't help it if I'm very enthusiastic about post-its." She came around the desk and leaned against its edge as she said, "Well, I'm ready."

"I would never mock anyone's enthusiasm… especially about post-its. I'm a post-it and notebook man, myself." He replied solemnly. Pushing himself up, he was mere inches away from her. Sensing her unease, and her sharp intake of breath, he stilled his hand and fought the temptation to reach out to touch her hair, He breathed in the slight scent of almond and vanilla as she slid past him towards the door. Mentally shaking himself, he followed her out of the office.

"Well, it sounded like mocking to me." Hope said as she grinned back at him as he past her.

"Yeah, that might have been." Bobby conceded, grinning as he walked past her so that she could lock her door. As he did, he saw the photos of Hope and her family again. The images in those photos seemed to be mocking him.

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Hope fixed her gaze on the carpet as the elevator doors slid closed, wondering at the sudden stillness emanating from Bobby. She and Bobby had been joking one minute, and in the next he'd grown quiet. As the doors slid open, Bobby held the door for her, letting her precede him out of the elevator. As she walked through the open doors, he lightly placed his hand on her back. She nearly jumped at the tingle that ran up and down her spine.

"Calling it a day, Ms. Thornton?" Alan, the security guard asked as he looked up from his magazine.

"Yes, I think that's it for today, Alan." Hope signed out, jotting down the time before handing the pen over to Bobby.

"Well, the sun broke through the clouds about an hour ago, should be a nice afternoon for… whatever." He glanced back and forth between the two. He knew a first date when he saw one.

Hope felt her face flush and she busied herself by searching her bag for her sunglasses.

"Thanks," Bobby said as he handed the man the pen. "You have a good one yourself."

The guard nodded once as the two walked out the door and towards the car that Alan had checked out minutes ago.

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Alan Jeffries had worked security at Hudson Publishing since 'putting his twenty in' in the Army and that had been ten years ago. As Hope Thornton and her friend left the building, he reached into his jacket for his wallet. Removing the slip of paper from behind his rarely used social security card, he reached for the phone and dialed. He knew the number, he just felt more secure holding it when making this call.

It was three years ago, when he'd first been approached about helping with a special project; he'd been told what was expected of him for the extra $100.00 a week he was going to receive. All he had to do was call in the name of every one who came to see Hope Thornton. It didn't matter if the person had been to see her 100 times or just once – every visitor – period, no exceptions.

As the phone was answered, a mechanically altered voice demanded, "Contact number please."

"H1625T." As always he wasn't sure whether he was speaking to a real human being or a computer simulated voice.

"H1625T" The voice repeated. "Visitor's name?"

"Goren, Bobby. Most likely, full name Robert."

Once again, the voice repeated the information Alan provided. "Any additional information?"

"As far as I know this is the initial contact here. New York license plate, SFV 392."

"Additional information, initial contact, New York license plate, SFV 392. Anything else sir?"

"No that's it."

"Your information has been logged and we thank you for calling. Have a good day, sir."

Alan shook his head as he stared at the phone, momentarily listening to the buzzing dial tone. Even with the "Have a good day, sir" sentiment tacked on at the end, he still didn't know if he'd spoken with a real person. As he hung up the phone, he once again wondered why anyone would want information like this on a woman like Hope Thornton. She was a nice enough woman but only an associate editor of second-rate fiction at a second-rate publishing company. For an additional $100.00 a week, it really didn't matter to him, and he rarely questioned why, but today he experienced a momentary curiosity. Quickly dismissing any doubt about his involvement he settled back into his chair, returning to the magazine he'd been reading earlier.

………… Chapter 4 – hopefully not a long wait ……………

Ahhh... The Ominous Complication. Still I want to see what's coming next.

Aw, man! I HATE it when there's a complication. Why can't it just be happiness, and light and regular falling in love stuff? Why do we always seem to have to complicate things with Bobby?

Great chapter, by the way. I was feeling just as nervous as Hope and Bobby were! That's the sign of good writing -- when I feel the same emotions as the characters. Keep up the good work!

::wanders off to consider next complication for Bobby in her own story ::

Thanks, I'm glad that you and Janx are following the tale and seemingly enjoying yourselves. Thanks again.

LOL!!! Where's the fun of a story without the drama and the angst? After two years of it on the show, we can't be expected to go cold turkey, can we?


Hopefully, I can get the next chapter ready to post by tomorrow or Tuesday. (I'm basically rewriting each chapter before I post it... I hate it when I change my mind on how I want to tell the story, after I think it's finished.) Something tells me that's the mark of a true non-professional.

I get it! The stalker is being stalked!

LOL!!!!

Sorry so many days have passed since I updated this... I got caught up in other things, like work and life... I hate it when that happens.

(After seeing "Faithfully" last week, the whole Bobby 'lives in an apartment' assumption seems so wrong, but what can I do about it now....LOL!!)



Chapter 4

As they left the building, Hope noticed the day had turned sunny and bright and she fished around in her bag for her sunglasses. Finding them she turned and began to ask, "So… that restaurant…"

Bobby brusquely interrupted, "If you're not too hungry yet. How about going for a little drive?" Bobby pointed to his car.

"Um… no. That would be nice. Seeing how it's turned out to be such a sunny morning."

"Let me take down the top and we'll see what we can do about clearing out some of the cobwebs." Bobby walked over to the curb, stopped at his car, and began to unlock the ragtop from the body of the car.

Shocked, Hope began throwing questions out at him, "A convertible mustang? What, it's a '67 or '68? Ni-ice restoration work."

Bobby grinned as he shook his head, "'66. You know cars?"

Shaking her head she admitted, "No, not really, my brother. He… he was really into cars. I picked up a few things."

"Oh, and where was that?" Bobby looked out the side mirror and back over his shoulder before pulling away from the curb.

"Is this the beginning of an interrogation, detective? But, that would have been in St. Louis. My father worked at Anheuser-Busch." Hope smiled as Bobby turned back to face her. She had meant the comment to come out light and teasing, but she sensed he hadn't taken it that way.

"Um… sorry, occupational hazard, I guess." Bobby accelerated and maneuvered his way into the flow of traffic.

Trying to smooth over this little bump, she jumped in, "No, it's fine. I mean… we don't know each other's history. How are we going to find out if we don't ask, right?" Hope reached out and tapped his forearm as he shifted gears.

She realized they were heading uptown and when Bobby glanced her way again, she shouted, "Where are we going?"

His brown eyes twinkled back in merriment as he shouted, "Wait and see. It'll be fun." At her puzzled expression, he nodded at her and mouthed, "Trust me."

She watched him for a moment before offering him a nod in return. She settled back into the seat and resolved to let the day and events she'd set in motion unveil themselves.



Hope leaned back, stretched and slid down even more into the comfort of the passenger seat. She was even tempted to let her eyes slip closed. It had been a long day after a late night with very little sleep. She felt drained, emotionally and physically. If the last couple of years had taught her anything, it was that life was a series of random moments connected by yet other random moments. Those moments were ours to be remembered, to be forgotten, or to be left behind. She wanted to be able to remember every moment of today. No longer, was she going to let the moments of her life be cast aside.

Risking a glance over at Bobby, she watched his hands on the steering wheel. He must have sensed her scrutiny, as it wasn't long before he turned towards her, a shy grinning smile splitting his face.

"Tired?" he asked, knowing the answer. Her body language was a testimony to the extent of her tiredness; the way she sat slumped down in the seat, her head lolling to the side -watching him – as if her neck muscles were no longer able to support its weight.

"Are you listening to me?" he teased, only scant seconds later, when she didn't answer him. For the last fifty yards, she'd had that impression. And now his latest question hung in the air, waiting for a reply.

Shaken out of her daze, "Yes, yes I'm listening." Mentally shaking herself, she hadn't answered him immediately because she was thinking he had the most beautiful hands she'd ever seen.

"You asked if I was 'tired'. And yes, I am. Aren't you?"

"Honestly?" Bobby glanced back at the road before answering. "I think we walked all 843 acres of Central Park. I'm exhausted!"

Hope broke out laughing, "Oh, thank you! I was beginning to feel like such a wimp."

The afternoon had been a revelation. Hope had noticed small changes in both their demeanors – a lightening of moods, easiness growing between them. Words were spoken with new meaning, with new intonation. There were other hints - some as light as a touch, an accidental brushing of hands.

She felt her guard slipping. Even though earlier today, she had used the word "love" to herself when she thought about Bobby - even then aware that she didn't know him well enough to actually love him - she did feel that for the first time in a very long time, she felt a measure of comfort she hadn't let herself feel for years.



As Bobby slowed the car at an intersection, he reached over to massage the back of her neck. As his hand brushed the scarf around her neck, she pulled back. He didn't miss the flicker of panic flash across her face. She recovered quickly and smiled back at him, and reached up and gently pulled his hand down, grasping it in both of hers and gently tracing circles on the back of it.

Raising her gaze, she asked, "How about I fix us something to eat, instead of going to your restaurant?"

"Are you sure?" They both knew they weren't talking about dinner.

She nodded as she brought his hand up to her lips to kiss its palm. "Are you?"

Bobby looked for any sign of hesitancy in her eyes, finding none he leaned over and kissed her, kissed her until the driver behind them tapped on his car's horn. Grinning with embarrassment, Bobby hit the gas and they sped through the intersection.

Minutes later, they were exiting the parking garage across the street from their apartment building. As they crossed the street, neither of them noticed the black sedan or the two men inside who watched their progress from up the street. As the two entered the apartment building, one of the men got out of the car to follow them inside.

The man entered the building to see them waiting for the elevator. He casually walked over to the mail boxes, while watching to see which elevator the two took. Once they got on a car, he left the building and pulled open the passenger door of the black sedan, which had now pulled up in front of the building. "They went up to her apartment." He said as he settled back into his seat.

"I think we can assume they're in for the night." His partner chuckled as he reached for his radio to call in.



Once the elevator doors closed, she stepped closer, her fingers twining with his. One feminine fingertip rubbed gently to his, and she tilted their hands into the light. Hands joined – she could almost believe it to be the most beautiful sight in the world.

She could feel his reaction. The rough catch in his breath, as he accepted that this moment was indeed happening. The weight of his gaze upon her, as intense any she'd ever felt.

Tentatively, as if a decision had been made, then remade, all within the span of only seconds, his other hand rose slowly, coming to rest gingerly around the curve of her head. One thumb caressed her cheek, and her eyes closed so serenely. So blissfully.

Her head leaned to his palm ... a tilt of no greater extent than those he often made with the mask. But the weight within his hand, the trust inherent in the action, was an expression unto itself. And he knew - he knew - just how appreciated his own advances would be.

With equal care he untangled his fingers from hers, moving instead to cup her face. A cradle was made, woven of two strong hands, and he leaned slowly ... gradually ... closer.

A brush of her nose with his own, that carried within it an invitation and a request. Waiting.

She took a step forward, tempted to risk a touch of his arm; stopped not by fear, but by her own sense of guilt.

His second hand rose to her back, spanning between her shoulder blades - holding her with a new permission. A new confidence. And he leaned closer…

=====

Chapter 5 hopefully won't take as long to work through....

Oh, I hope not! This was beautiful; really great. I hope the guys in the black sedan drive off into the Hudson River soon and leave Bobby and Hope alone together. Nice job!

It was 8 o'clock, Monday morning and Alex Eames had just stepped off the elevator onto the 11th floor of One Police Plaza. She expected to see her partner already at his desk, hard at work, sloughing his way through the mountains of paperwork that the arrest and eventual confession of the girlfriend of a congressional aide, for his death.

Alex knew better than most, not to 'expect' a certain course of action from her partner. If she'd learned anything from working with Bobby all these years, was never to assume anything, ever – in a case, or with him. It was still surprising that all that greeted her when she reached her desk, was her partner's empty desk.

Risking a quick glance towards the Captain's office, she was relieved to see that Ross was alone. At least she didn't have to worry about another complication between those two. Alex removed her jacket and sat down, momentarily staring at the empty desk of her partner. It was a sight that sent chills down her spine. She sighed, wondering what trouble Bobby was getting into now. Not even able to guess, she reached for the first folder on her desk and flipped it open.

"Morning Eames." Bobby said as he flipped open his notebook. She hadn't even noticed him slide into his chair across from her.

Glancing at her watch, she smirked as she replied, "Don't you mean afternoon?"

Bobby's head popped up and a genuine look of confusion greeted her. "What? What are you talking about? It's only 8 o'clock."

"And on any other normal 8 o'clock Monday morning, you've usually been in for a couple of hours. I've never known you to just be on time." Alex watched him, watched for his reaction.

Giving nothing away, he merely shook his head and stood, asking as he started to walk away, "Do you want some coffee?"

Shaking her head, she admitted, "I'm still working on this one." She grabbed her cup and sipped the still hot contents. Watching him as he crossed the room, she found herself wondering about his weekend. Had he discovered more about his mysterious letter writer? Somehow, she thought he had. She didn't find it a comforting thought.

=====

Hours later, the two detectives stood in Captain Ross's office as he flipped through the case file. "This was good work, you two. Send it over to the DA's office." Ross handed the file back to Alex. "Why don't you two take the rest of the day."

"Thanks Captain." Alex glanced over at Bobby as she answered for the team. She knew the signs of his preoccupation better than anyone, he was chomping at the bit to get out of here today. He was always a bit more fidgety when confined to the office, but today had been even worse than normal. She was convinced she knew the reason why, but there was yet a little investigating to do before she would be safe in 'assuming' that, before she would sit him down and have a cautionary talk with him.

The two detectives stood and left their Captain's office. Bobby quickly set to clearing off his desk, putting everything in its place. As Alex stood watching, she repeatedly slapped the folder against her thigh. Finally daring to break the silence, and broached the topic that had had her biting her tongue all morning.

"One, you're in an awful hurry to get out of here – that's fairly unusual for you. Two, you were late this morning..." Bobby's head popped up, mouth open. "and before you say anything, 8:00 o'clock is late – for you. Years of detective work have taught me to recognize a change in patterns, a change in behavior."

Bobby looked at his hands, now clasped, his interlaced fingers resting on the top of his desk. He knew what was coming. If she wants to play this game…fine. He could play along, but for only so long. "A change of pattern and behavior? Then Detective, based on your 'years of detective work', what would you most likely attribute this 'change in pattern, change of behavior' to?"

"At a guess - and at this point, that's all I can do - but I'd say that you'd discovered more about your your mysterious letter writer is. Like, who she is." Even though her comments were statements, both knew that all she was doing was ... fishing.

Bobby sat silently for a moment before acknowledging her comments with a small nod, "Her name is Hope Thornton."

Alex sat down, stunned. "You've met her?" Even though this is was she suspected, it was still not what she expected to hear. With anyone else, that wouldn't make sense, but with Bobby Goren...

"Yes. Friday night. I went to her apartment. I saw her again on Saturday and Sunday. The whole weekend. And hopefully again tonight." He admitted quietly.

"Bobby…" She knew she hadn't been successful in keeping the note of concern out of her voice. Bobby was so alone - a little lost, a little vulnerable, a little fragile. All of which seemed at odds with the man's physical presence, but it was there. While the exchange of letters had seemed mostly harmless, so far, there was still that element of stalker-ish behavior that greatly concerned her. Frankly she was mystified at Bobby's casualness about this. Both had seen too many examples of what could happen given a set of similar circumstances.

"I know what you're going to say, but really, don't worry. I have thought this through. I thought it through before I ever went over to her place. There's nothing to worry about." Bobby stood as he continued, "It's okay, Eames. I'll see you tomorrow." Standing he looked over at her. "You're going to have to trust me on this, Eames. It's under control."

Realizing she had no hope of stopping him, knowing nothing she could say would stop him, she pressed her lips together, bit her tongue and nodded. "Yeah, okay... I'll see you tomorrow."

Alex slumped down onto her chair, arms on her desk. Leaning forward, she nestled her chin into her upturned palm, as she watched her partner's progress to the elevator. As he disappeared from her sight, she reached for her phone. Fingers drumming on the receiver, she realized she didn't know when she'd first made the conscious decision to call asking for his help, but she had already told him to expect her call, somehow knowing that she was going to need the help. The last bit of her hesitance vanished as she picked up the receiver and dialed...

=====

Ira welcomed the distraction of the ringing telephone, the tedium that had been his latest work project - one that had been ongoing for the last several days - broken, if only for a moment.

"Whipple." He acknowledged as he spoke into the receiver.

"Ira, it's Eames. I have a name for you - Hope Thornton. I need you to work your magic with that computer of yours and find out everything you can about her. From the day she was born all the way through to tomorrow. Everything. And I need it now."

"It's going to take awhile, detective. I do actually have a job to do around here, too." Ira looked at his empty desk, and then to the stack of reports on the floor reaching up to the top of his desk, secretly glad that Detective Eames had called. Otherwise, he'd be reduced to mindless data entry work, re-entering a years' worth of ComStat reports and analysis that had somehow vanished from the data file on the master frame. He'd much rather work on Eames' mysterious case.

"Then get your buddy, Simmons to help you…" Two computer geeks were better than one. She realized she was asking a lot, and while she didn't want to get anyone in trouble, this did have the possibility of blowing up in her face. She didn't want to feel responsible for anyone else's reprimands or worse, firings. But she knew she had to see this through and there was no turning back. Both these guys had helped Bobby once before, and no one had found out about their "helping". Someone had to look out for her partner, and he'd made it perfectly clear over the years, that in certain situations, he wasn't any good at looking out for himself. If not her, then who?

"Text me anything you find as soon as you get it, no matter how small. I'd rather get it piecemeal, than not get anything until you've found everything. I need this to be an organized, comprehensive, but quickly compiled set of facts. But I still need everything. As soon as possible."

As soon as Eames hung up, Ira reached for his personal laptop. Whatever this was about, he felt sure that he didn't want anyone being able to trace anything back to his NYPD computer. He booted up the search program that he'd written and began typing, H – O – P – E, into the search field and hit ENTER.

While he waited for the first bit of data to pop up, he picked up the phone and dialed Josh's extension, "Hey, Josh, it's Ira. You up to your neck on anything?"

"Kinda… I'm pulling financials in the Richard Knox case. It looks like there might be an insurance angle to it – 'key man' policy. You see, his partner had just taken... "

Ira cut him off, Josh could get so excited about following the trail, he didn't always know when to stop talking. "Eames called, with a name. Needs her whole history ASAP."

Ira knew that Knox had been a Broadway producer who'd be found dead during the opening night performance of a new play he'd been backing. He also knew that it was Logan's case, which meant it was Detective Falacci's as well. She wouldn't be shy about saying anything if she had to wait longer for results than she deemed necessary.

"Eames called, with a name. Needs her whole history ASAP."

"What's the case? I can work in a search as long as she doesn't need a full briefing about what it means." Josh waited for an answer.

Slowly, it dawned on him. "There's no case, is there Ira?" Even though he couldn't see his friend, he knew he was shaking his head 'no'. What was it about Goren and Eames?

Looking at the piles of reports on his desk, Josh took a deep breath before replying, "Give me an hour, I'll be down to see you." After he hung up, he realized, Ira had never answered his question.


=====

............Chapter 6 - should be coming soon .................

hmmm.....the plot thickens. I just hope she turns out to be an okay, really sweet, decent proper woman for Bobby to be involved with. Sounds like they could be really good for each other. I also don't like that you have Eames upset that Bobby's found someone...Doesn't SHE want Bobby to be happy?

The plot always has to thicken. It's a tall order to come up with "an okay, really sweet, decent proper woman", but I'll see what I can do about that.

But Eames isn't upset that Bobby might have found someone. She's just not sure she's willing to trust that person's motives as readily as Bobby. It's more about 'having his back'.

Chapter 6

The soft tap-tap-tap at her office door snapped Hope out of her reverie. Looking up she saw her assistant standing in the door frame, rummaging through her handbag. Flustered, she stammered, "Y-yes, Claudia, what is it?"

"A couple of us are going over to the deli across the street for lunch, I was wondering if I could bring you back something to eat?"

Lunch? What time is it? Hope snuck a glance at her watch – it was almost one o'clock. Over four hours at work and she'd read only a dozen pages of the manuscript lying open on her desk.

"Sure… sure that … that would be great. Here, let me …" Hope reached into her desk drawer and pulled out her on handbag. She found a $20 and handed it over to Claudia, "… I think I'd like their vegetarian sandwich on multi grain and a Diet Coke. Take … take your time though, no hurry. Enjoy your lunch."

Claudia watched her boss, as curious about her today as she had been since that first day, now over three years ago. Hope had come to Hudson Publishing unexpectedly starting as an assistant editor. While Hope had always been a little distant, she wasn't unfriendly, but reserved and very private. She just didn't seem to join in any of the social activities in the office and she never spoke of family or friends. She had a couple of pictures in her office, but they were the same ones that she'd brought when she arrived. Not a new one in the bunch. Claudia liked working for Hope though, she was a thoughtful boss and really very kind, just uninvolved, not quite a part of her environment.

"Say, Hope… is everything all right? You know, it's just that recently I've noticed that you've been a little distracted… not... not quite yourself."

"Really, not quite myself?" she asked, voice pitched slightly higher than normal. And just who is 'myself'? she asked herself, before answering Claudia's question. "Everything's fine. I … I suppose I have been a little distracted, but … well, it's nothing to worry about."

"If you're sure… because you know… if you need someone to… "

The ringing of the phone broke through Claudia's comments.

Hope jumped in, "Everything's fine, really. I … I appreciate the offer… Look, I'll get that." Hope walked back towards the desk and the phone. "You… you should get going, you don't want to keep the others waiting." Making a shooing motion with her hands, she added, "Go… go. Enjoy your lunch."

"Okay, I won't be long. I'll be back with your lunch before you know it."

"Thanks, Claudia."

As Claudia turned and started to walk away, she heard her boss answer the phone, "Hope Thornton..."

=====

"Hope Thornton…" Just the sound of her voice, was responsible for the smile that spread across his lips, reaching up to his eyes. "Hello, Hope Thornton. This is Robert Goren."

"Hi, this is a nice surprise." She was sure that he could hear the smile in her voice. "I was just thinking about you." Okay, so she'd been thinking about him all day. In the almost four hours at work, she'd plowed through less than a dozen pages of a new manuscript, and couldn't remember a single word.

"Look, I know it's kind of late for lunch, but I just got the rest of the day off…" He let the suggestion hang in the air, as he finished his thought. …and I'd really like to see you.

"Well, this is great timing, I haven't eaten yet." Already forgotten was the vegetarian sandwich that Claudia was bringing back.

"I'll pick you up, in say twenty minutes?" Bobby turned the key in the ignition.

"Okay, I'll meet you out front." Hope's heartbeat quickened. She remembered feeling giddy like this in high school, when she'd first started dating. That had been a long time ago and a lot had happened since then, and she never expected to feel like this ever again. Yet, she was.

=====

Claudia and her friend Monica were returning from the deli, and approaching the building when she saw Hope walk out the door. She watched her boss look up and down the street, a big smile quickly breaking out across her face as her attention was drawn to the honking of a horn. Claudia turned to see a tall man getting out of a car and coming around to open the passenger door. As Hope walked up, his hand slid around her waist as he leaned down to press a quick kiss to her lips. She watched as she saw her 'distant' boss reach up and caress his cheek.

"Claudia…"

Hearing her name, Claudia turned toward the voice.

"I asked, wasn't that your Hope Thornton getting into that car?" Monica repeated.

"Yeah, I think it was."

"Come on girl, dish… Who's the guy?"

"I… I don’t know. I guess maybe he's why that she's seemed a little out of it lately. I… I never would have guessed that there was … someone."

"Yeah, she doesn’t really send out those kinds of signals. But, hey… good for her." Jumping at this opportunity, Monica continued, "Looks like your afternoon might have just been freed up. You want to help me catch up on my filing?"

"Why would I want to help you catch up on your filing? I have pages of notes to type up for Hope."

Shrugging, Monica continued, "Well, if you won't help me, will you at least share Hope's sandwich with me? I doubt she'll be coming back for it today and I'm still hungry."

The two looked at each other and broke out laughing.

=====

Bobby drove to one of his favorite restaurants, Sal's. When they entered the small establishment, Bobby was warmly greeted. "Bobby… we don't see you here for lunch very often. In fact, I think it's been a long time since we've seen you for dinner too. Let's see about getting the two of you seated."

"Hi Veronica. You're right, it's been awhile since I've been here. I've missed it." Bobby admitted.

"So, you're a regular here?" Hope asked. "You bring all your dates here?"

"Oh, I don't think I've ever seen Bobby here with anyone before. He usually comes in by himself." Veronica winked, letting both know she was joking.

"You don't have to cover for me, Veronica."

"Well, then.... let me tell you about Bobby. It used to be a different girl every night of the week."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" The woman joked right back.

Seeing Bobby's embarrassed grin and the woman's big open smile, Veronica added to herself, until now. She laughed and said, "I'll send Miranda over to get your drink orders.

Eggplant parmigiana and wine were ordered, delivered and the few remains quickly taken away. The meal passed mostly in silence, with Bobby sitting back, watching and waiting. Even though he believed she'd been happy to see him when he picked her up, he noticed that a distance had grown between them. She'd been staring into her wineglass for a while, when their check arrived.

Bobby thanked Miranda and pulled out his credit card. "I'll be right back with your receipt."

"So…" Bobby began, the word breaking through Hope's contemplation. "… do you have to get back to work?"

Hope smiled back, "No, not really. Why? What did you have in mind?"

"Nothing. I just thought… maybe… we could just hang out?" He saw the expression on her face freeze. "But, if you'd rather not, I can have you back at work…" The waitress slipped the receipt and credit card on the table.

Before he could finish, she was shaking her head 'no'. "No, I'd like to hang out. It's … it's just kind of complicated, it should be so easy, but it isn't." The hostess and waitress' attitude towards Bobby had shaken her. She was beginning to wonder about Bobby. Wonder about what she had done. Bobby had seemed so alone, but what if he really wasn't? What if everything she'd written to him had nothing to do with 'saving' him? What if it had all been about saving herself? Now, if she began to question her motivation, should she be questioning his?

Bobby leaned back in his chair, "Complicated? Complicated how? With work or with…" For the first time warning bells went off and he remembered what he'd told Eames, I've thought this through… Maybe he had, but what about Hope? Had she? She had probably never thought that he would track her down from her letters.

Hope laid her hand on top of his. He could see her trying to come up with an explanation. "I … I … " she choked back a sob.

"Look, we don't have to get into this now. Let's, let's just get out of here." If they were anywhere other than a public place, he would have wrapped her up in his arms to comfort her. As it was all he did was place his other hand on top of hers.

Hope nodded, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. Bobby stood and held the chair for her. As she continued to the door, he signed the receipt, picked up his credit card and joined her at the door, where she was thanking the hostess for the great service and food.

"Thank you. I hope you'll come back soon."

"I'd like that." Hope admitted, as the two women watched Bobby approach.

"I'll make sure to tell Miranda how much you appreciated the service." Veronica said, loud enough to be heard by Bobby.

"I think the tip I added will get that point across." Bobby added as he came up behind Hope, placing his hands on her shoulders.

That's right, I forgot, Detective Robert Goren - the last of the big-time tippers." The three laughed.

Hope reached out for his hand as they walked out. "Could we… could we go somewhere and just walk for a while?"

"Sure… sure whatever you want. We can go over to the park."

As he drove, she thought about what he'd said. "…whatever you want.". Now all she had to do was figure out exactly what that was and how to get it.

=====

It was still early when Bobby dropped Hope off at her apartment. She didn't invite him in and he didn't ask. A gentle kiss and hug ended their day. As Bobby turned to walk away, he heard her softly say, "Thank you Bobby."

He turned back to her, "No… thank you Hope." Bobby turned and walked away, hearing the soft closing of the door.

Very interesting, I'm really liking this story, waiting for the next chapter

hmmmmm....very sweet chapter. I'm thinking I know 'what's up' with Hope, but I'm going to just keep reading and see what you reveal to us........

Kat, I'm really enjoying this story, as well as the first story. It's all very sweet with a bit of intrigue mixed in to keep us guessing. I can't wait to find out what happens!

fm, you are a smart cookie...I'm totally clueless as to what's going on with Hope. I hope Kat deosn't keep us in suspense for too long.

Want me to pm you what my guess is?

I'm glad your liking it. It's taken on a whole new life since I started posting it. I'm making a lot of changes from the 'original' finished product. I'm going to be just as surprised about what's coming up next, as you guys!




Thanks FM - you've had a pretty good read on where I'm going in previous stories, so... you're probably right. Hopefully, I can throw in a surprise or two along the way.



Thanks LBD - and I can't wait to find out what happens either!

I work the next couple of days, so I'm not sure how much time I'll have to write... but I'll be plotting away... so hopefully the next couple of chapters will write themselves.

I understand about stories taking on a life of their own.....

I hope you surprise me; I love surprises!

My brain plots away a lot too, then I sit down and start to write, and sometimes it comes out totally different! Wherever you're going with this, know that I'm along for the ride.

I hope I can get some more time in on my story. The kids got out of school today, tomorrow is busy, Thursday I've got the 2 girls next door staying with us, but Friday....Friday: the boys leave for 5 DAYS of camping!!!!! That means I'll be having a hard time sleeping and staying up late and writing! I will force myself to write....then go back and re-read and edit, and re-write, and re-read...and hopefully get more than one chapter done!

Keep up the great work, Kat. I always love reading your stuff.

Yeah, I think I know what's up with Hope too. Just keep it real, please keep it real!

It's so tempting to go over-the-top with it - that's the way I see it, but really I do want to underplay it - that would be the most real. Bu-u-u-t... a part of me wants the big emotional reveal...

A couple of random things... Me and rabeka just had a very small (like two sentances) dicussen on the fact bobby would wear boxers. It was really funny. So yea you got that totally down. Hmm... I didnt read all of it but it seems to be good (skipped a few chapters) i like the fact alex is suspecious for some reason. Hmmm... What could happen next? Hope is an accoplice of nicole. Just joking. Well frankly i dont really have a prediction. *wanders off to go read stuff on own story*

Let me start out this chapter by saying, I know nothing about computers, so... if on the show, they can refer to 'defragmenting' the hard drive and equate that to erasing the files on said hard drive, as happened in "Blink" - hopefully youl, the reader will be able to excuse my less than firm grasp on what's really going on with our computers and their operating systems. (You may not believe this but when I saved this page to a bunch of 'source code' type jargon began the post - if you read the chapter, I'm sure you appreciate the coincidence.

=====

Ira and Josh fell into step with Alex outside One Police Plaza. Alex looked at the two disheveled and obviously tired men, "I know I said I needed everything and as soon as possible, but I really didn't mean for you two to work all night, Ira."

"Well, we didn't intend to, it just kind of happened that way. After the last text message we sent you last night, I got an idea and wanted to try it out, it was just out of curiosity …" Ira started.

Josh interrupted, "You don't know the half of what we found. You are not going to believe what we found. We found it - the smoking gun."

"What do you mean you found "it"? What smoking gun?" Dread rose up to choke her as she watched the exchange of looks between the two men.

"Once we found it, we couldn't stop, it was such a rush." The words tumbled from the excitable Joshua Simmons.

"Look, one of you is going to have to tell me what "it" is - right now." Alex started to press for the answer.

Ira shot Josh an irritated look, silencing him. "I got the idea of looking a little deeper at the information we gave you from the project I've been working on." He could feel Eames silently hurrying him along. "Okay, I've helping re-enter the data that had been 'lost' when the mainframe crashed. Now some documents and files were still there and those that weren't we have to recreate and reinsert them into the proper sequence, their proper place."

Eames sighed, realizing she was in for a lecture about computers. But it seemed the least she could do in the circumstances. She tried to hide her disinterest in the process and let Ira speak.

Ira continued, "Now, when information is saved, it's encrypted in binary code and that code has a specific protocol attached to it to open the file into a readable format. That's basic computer programming. It's the general practice of the NYPD to also encrypt the date the information was created and saved.

"I've never done that with anything I've saved." Alex pointed out.

"It's in the programming, it runs in the background, most people are unaware of it. They save a document, they open the document. Presto. Magic." Josh contributed.

"But one of the bits of information saved, is the date the file was created. Now, I've been messing around with the code and I've cracked it. It's given me a way to track down the exact date information was stored on the mainframe."

"Now, this is where it gets interesting, detective." Eames could see that Josh was about to jump out of his skin in excitement.

"We went back to the information we found on Hope Thornton and I tried the program I used to crack our code…" Ira stopped, hoping Eames would see where he was headed with this.

"And…"

"And… we discovered the program worked on all the files we'd found on Hope Thornton." The two men exchanged self-satisfied looks, before Ira added, "She may have a history that goes back thirty-five years, but every bit of information has been created within the last three and a half years."

"Now it's feasible that some of the information has been reentered, just like we're doing with our files. Except … we have multiple sources, hospital records, school records, DMV, banks, etc., - you know the drill – all of her history was created in the space of a two-week period, almost four years ago. The three and a half year time frame dates back to her arrival here in New York."

"So, you found out that Hope Thornton is in Witness Protection."

"Or something like it." Josh added.

"What does that mean? 'Or something like it'." Alex shot sharp glances at the men.

"It isn't the Marshall's Program. It isn't even a U.S. government Program."

"Then, whose program is it?" Alex could feel her Starbuck's start to burn a hole in her stomach.

"Scotland Yard..." Josh ventured, with a shrug of his shoulders.

"We're not sure. But it's from the Brits." Ira shot Josh an irritated look. "We have everything upstairs, we can go over it with you..."

Eames checked her watch. "Thanks fellas, I have to check in first. Give me about half an hour; I'll find a reason to come down to see you." Alex cringed inwardly, this way bad. Knowing now that this was going to get complicated - very complicated - she wished she'd stayed out of it. Now, the question was, how to approach Bobby.

As Alex turned to walk into the building, she heard Ira hiss, "I told you, it has to be MI5 or MI6. If it was Scotland Yard, it would be the same as if NYPD had its own witness protection program."

=====

This morning, Alex hoped to be greeted by the same sight as yesterday, that of her partner's empty desk. Unfortunately, her luck wasn't holding up. Bobby was already at his desk, going through a pile of paperwork.

"Morning, Detective." Captain Ross greeted her as the elevator doors slid open. He and Logan were getting on the elevator as she stepped off.

"Morning Captain, Logan." Eames distractedly offered a nod to the two men as she continued into the squad room. The two men exchanged a look between them that seemed to say, "That preoccupied greeting was more suited to her partner, than her."

Logan shook his head, "I'm not asking. You can if you want to. I'm out of it."

"That's how I wound up getting divorced. No Logan, some things just aren't worth it."

Logan grinned at the Captain as the elevator door slid closed. "I hear that, Captain."

=====

"Morning Eames." Bobby recognized her step and turned to greet her. "I thought I'd put the natural order of things back in… well, their natural order. I came in at my usual time to keep our balance in place."

"Good morning, Bobby. It … That's very reassuring." She admitted with a hesitant smile. "What… uh, what are you working on?"

"Just clearing up some paperwork, now that they've fixed the glitch with the computers. It looks like it's Logan's turn in the cross hairs. Ross and Logan are on their way up to see the Chief," Bobby couldn't repress rolling his eyes at the thought of the Chief of Detectives. "The Captain requested that we wait around for him and update him on the Brewster case."

Alex's silence surprised Goren, he looked up and was surprised to see the dazed look on her face. "Alex, are you all right?" he asked, his concern evident in his voice. She was staring at the empty desktop.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. I just have some thing I need to check." She picked up the phone receiver, and started to dial… "cracked the code..." Forgetting what number she dialed, she started again… "created in the last three and a half years…"

Slamming down the receiver, she declared, "I have to go downstairs. I'll be in records if Ross gets back before I do. Call me if he does."

Bobby warily looked up at her. "Okay, sure. Anything I need to know about what's going on in Records."

Alex shook her head, "No. No, I just need to check on something. I'll be right back."

"OK." Bobby returned to the report he was scanning through. "You'd better hope that you're back before Ross. I don't care how quickly you can get back here from Records."

Alex didn't hear a word he said, she was already gone.

=====

Since her return from "records", Alex had been hiding out in an interview room, to avoid Bobby. She read and re-read the information Ira had given her. She found it all so incredible, even unbelievable. Only Bobby would have this kind of luck…

Alex was startled by knocking on the door of the interview room. Bobby cautiously entered, "The Captain just called. He's going to be tied up with the Chief through lunch, so it looks like we have free rein for a while. You feel like going down to D'Angelos and getting something to eat?" Studying her silence, he knew that whatever was bothering her was big. Closing the door, he sat down opposite her. "Are you all right? Has something happened?"

"Um… no. Everything's fine. Ah…" She knew she wasn't being very convincing when he reached across the table and put his hand on top of hers.

"Alex… what's going on? It has something to do with what's in that file, doesn't it? What is it?" Bobby asked gently as he nodded toward the file lying between them.

Alex looked down at the folder and then up at Bobby again, as she slowly slid the folder across to him. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry. I felt I had to. I … I was concerned about you…"

Bobby knew where this was going and he knew what was in the folder. He obviously didn't know the specifics, but he knew the folder contained information on Hope. If the stricken look on her face was any indication, he knew that the pages inside the folder didn't contain good news. Bringing one hand up to cover his mouth, he slowly exhaled. His other hand pulled the folder closer to him before opening it.

Bobby stared at the words, unable to breathe, unable to make sense of the characters on the page, unable to raise his eyes to meet Alex's gaze. He drew another deep breath and tried to read the report. After several sentences he had to go back and start over, he hadn't comprehended any of what he'd just read. He kept his head down as he closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling repeatedly before opening his eyes again. He found he was still unable to read the report, but he allowed his eyes to roam the page and he discovered he was able to focus on random words and phrases.

Slowly, deliberately, he asked, "This is what? Ira's work. You got this from Ira…"

"And Simmons… I… I asked Ira to run Hope's background. Ira and Josh both worked on it. They're the only ones besides you and..." Bobby stared at her, his face emotionless. "Bobby, I was concerned about…"

"… about me." He finished her thought for her. "Always concerned about me. Always worried about me. I need to be watched." He needed something…

Bobby brought his hand up to cover his mouth. "I… I gotta get out of here." Bobby felt like he was going to suffocate. This was big picture stuff. He'd seen a lot in his life, he'd lived through a lot, but nothing… nothing like Hope had endured.

"Bobby…"

He raised both his hands to stop her. "No, Eames. Not now. Don't. Just don't. I need to think." Bobby turned and walked out of the room, across to the elevator. When the elevator doors didn't open fast enough for him, he turned and pushed open the emergency door to the stairwell and began his descent.

=====

................Chapter 8........ Coming Soon, I hope..............

I knew it! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! I KNEW she was 'hiding' by the end of Chapter 6. Just didn't expect her protection to be British in origin -- good twist there, Kat!

Okay, so who's following/stalking/spying on her and reporting her every move and why?

Are you still going to give them their happy ending, or are you going to leave Bobby in perpetual angst and send him over the edge by having Hope 'discovered' and killed? I hope not; I want a happy ending!

Great job on this chapter by the way. I could really 'see' and 'hear' the characters very vividly. You did a great job capturing the characters just as they are on the show. Nice job!

Rats...I was too slow to respond. Good catch! I wasn't thinking along those lines at all. I love the twist...maybe a secret agent of sorts. Can't wait to find out more. I, too, am hoping for a happy ending!

Kat...I think you captured Ira and Josh perfectly. I love when the forensic computer and financial guys appear in an episode. They are so jazzed about their work. It reminds me of some of the folks I work with. British intelligence and spooky spy stuff, huh? I love it!

Yay, another chapter! Love where this is going although I'm with FM and LBD, I hoping for a happy ending too

I knew you knew it! LOL! I'm glad I was able to surprise you with a little twist though,
Thanks. I'm glad you thought the characters were 'true' to themselves so that you were able to 'see' and 'hear' them.



LBD, your comment makes me wonder what you were thinking. Was there another way to take the story that I didn't see?
I love Josh and Ira - I had to write something for them. They may be minor characters in the show, but they're cool in their geekiness.



A happy ending... hmmm, well as Hope said, "It's complicated." And we'll all have to wait and see... (but not too long of a wait, I hope.)

I can tell from the hits that others are reading and not commenting, which is cool. Just want to let them all know that I appreciate everyone stopping by and taking the time to read.

"Excuse me, you can't just go in there…" Hope started to come around her desk as soon as she heard Claudia's raised voice. She had almost reached the door when a sharp peremptory knock quickly followed its being slammed open.

It was Bobby. Blocking the doorway, leaving no entrance for anyone, leaving no exit for Hope.

Alarmed and concerned, Hope continued to come forward, tentatively. "Bobby? What… what's wrong?"

Bobby walked over to the chair he'd sat in the other day. Was it really only four days ago? he wondered. It felt like it was much longer. He stood staring at the chair.

"Hope, should I call securi –" Claudia began, realizing he reminded her of the man she'd Hope getting to the car with yesterday.

"No, Claudia. It's… it's all right." Hope assured her. "We'll be fine. Please, just close the door. I'll let you know if I need anything." Bobby had taken to pacing the width of the room, waves of emotion rolling from him, flooding the room and engulfing everyone in its wake.

Claudia stood her ground, uncertain and unmoving, forcing Hope to get her attention. "Claudia…"

"Yes, all right, but I'll be… I'll be right out side." Claudia reached for the door and grabbed the doorknob, slowly and quietly closing the door. "Right outside." She repeated more forcefully.

Bobby glanced back at the door. "It's good that she looks out for you. Kind of like my partner. She's got your back."

"Well, yeah … I suppose you could say that." Hesitantly, she walked over to the desk and leaned against it, looking down at him. Trying to ease the tension in the room, she joked, "I find it's only a little less important for a book editor than a police officer. Unpublished writers are only slightly less dangerous than your average career criminal."

Hope didn't want to let on, but she was probably about as afraid as Claudia. Hope continued to watch Bobby as he paced. She sat on one of the chairs usually reserved for visitors. Hoping that her voice would sound calm and steady, she cautiously asked, "What's the matter, Bobby? What's happened?"

He stopped his pacing and turned to look at her and silently appraised her. He had been right about her, hadn't he? He was going to operate on the presumption that he had been. He had seen enough in the report to understand what she'd meant yesterday, when she'd said, it was complicated. How was he going to tell her he knew what her secret was? He wasn't even supposed to know that she had a secret. He didn't think that how he was going to do this was the best course - it certainly wasn't the kindest course - but he knew he had to break her first. He didn't see that he had a lot of options and he could feel time running out. One way or another, time was running out for both of them.

He found the picture he'd seen here the other day. Brushed nickel glinted dully from the overhead light as it framed the photograph of Hope, the unknown man and little girl. He stood, walked over to it, picked it up and showed it to her. "Who are these people, Hope?"

Hope had watched as he reached for the picture frame. "Why? What… what does it matter, you don't know them. They're…" Hope stammered, looking up at him. Seeing the resolve in his face, she stammered, "Well… that's me with my brother, Jack and… and his daughter."

"Your brother in St. Louis, right?" He asked.

She nodded.

"What's her name, Hope? What's your niece's name?"

He saw the color drain from her face now. As much as he hated himself for it, he continued to pressure her. "Come on, Hope. It shouldn't be a difficult question. Surely you know your niece's name."

Head down, she shook her head, no. In a voice that was barely a whisper, "Please… Bobby, don't do this."

She raised a shaky hand to brush back stray strands of hair as her gaze rose to look him in the eye.

He could see the pain in her eyes and hated to be the cause of it. But he needed to know 'the why' of her new identity. Ira and Josh may have found the footprints left by the creation of Hope Thornton's life story, but they hadn't included any reasons for it. He knew the clock was ticking and they wouldn't have much time. The search was sure to have raised red flags and it wouldn't be long before they had company.

"You can't have forgotten her name. What is her name, Hope?"

"Of… of course I haven't forgotten. I could ne… never forget her name. Her name wa… is Chloe." Tears of rolling down her cheeks and her heart was breaking all over again.

"No, no Hope. Chloe isn't the name of your niece. And this isn't a picture of your niece or your brother, is it? You don't have a niece, do you?"

Looking up at him, she felt her heart sinking. He knew… he knew. But how could he? No one did.

"I honestly don't know." She whispered.

"Why don't you know, Hope? Why don't you know if you have a niece?"

"I… I really don't want to get into… this is none of your business… I, I think you should just go… this is just a big mis…" She stammered as she tried to see a way out of this. She realized he must be very, very good at his job.

"No, there's no mistake, but there is a big problem. We don't have much time and I need you to tell me the truth if I'm going to help you." He said softly. "What was your name before it was Hope Quinn Thornton?"

"Oh God…. How? How? How did…" In her shock, the flow of tears stopped. "I don't know who the man or little girl are… just two people, models I assume." Her voice was flat, resigned. Although this was a major breach to her safety, she knew she didn't have anything to fear from Bobby.

He walked over to her slowly, sitting in the empty chair next to her. He didn't look at her, he didn't touch her. "I'm sorry, sorrier that you'll ever know, but we don't have the luxury of time. I needed to know if what my partner found out is true. They'll be here for you, soon. You have to decide right now, whether you want to remain Hope Quinn Thornton or whether you're going to let them take you out of here and give you another new name, another new history.

"What? What do you mean they'll be here soon? Why?" Hope started shaking and she started to hyperventilate…

=====

The black sedan pulled up in front of Hudson Publishing. Alan Jeffries watched the two men as they walked through the lobby. He recognized the older of the two. He was the man who had approached him several years ago with an offer of money to keep tabs on Hope Thornton's visitors. When that Goren fellow stormed past him, he'd called in just as he always did. Never before though had a call brought anyone into the building.

The man he recognized came over to him, "Mr. Jefferies, is Hope Thornton still in the building." Jeffries had a bad feeling about this.

"Y-yes, I believe so." He stammered. "At least she hasn't passed me or that new boyfriend of hers. He stormed right past me right before I called. He didn't even sign in."

"And other than this way, how many other ways are there to leave the building?" Even though he already knew the answer was five, he asked the question.

Well, there's the parking garage. (Well, that's one, thought Agent Danforth-Hayes). Then there's the delivery dock. (Two). There are two emergency exits (Three and four.) And the lobby. (Five. Good boy Mr. Jeffries.)"

"Thank you Mr. Jefferies. And has Detective Goren left the building yet?"

"Detective Goren?" That surprised him. "No, no he's still here in the building."

Danforth-Hayes looked glanced over to his partner, "I doubt that."

With that, he nodded and the two men walked over to the elevator, leaving a very perplexed security guard to watch their exit. He decided right then, that now was the time to put in for his second retirement. This wasn't the harmless 'watching' he'd led himself believe.

When the elevator doors opened onto the fifteenth floor, the two men walked out into the aftermath of a panic. A large group was gathered around an office and the desk outside of it several doors down. As they approached, they overheard several overlapping comments.

"What happened in there, Claudia..."

"I can't believe he just burst into her office like that…"

"Who is he…"

"I've never seen him before…"

"I wonder where they went…"

"Who would have ever thought quiet little Hope Thornton had drama in her life…"

"Excuse me, please. Let us through." Danforth-Hayes pushed his way to the front until he was in front of the desk. He flipped his ID quickly, giving no one the opportunity to really see it. "What happened here?"

"I… I think my boss was forced to leave with her… her new boyfriend." Claudia paused as several around her nodded in agreement. "He definitely lead her out of the office. But I ... I suppose she might have gone with him voluntarily.

The agent reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a photo of Goren and Hope taken last weekend in Central Park, and showed it to the woman.

"Yes, yes… that's him. That's them."

"How long ago did they leave?"

"About twenty minutes ago, officers. I called 911 right after they left." Danforth realized the girl thought they were the police – if she'd called twenty minutes ago, they should be arriving any minute.

"Which way did they leave by?" He asked urgently.

Perplexed by the question, Claudia slowly answered, "They… they took the elevator."

"Thank you. We have other officers on the way; they should be arriving shortly. When they do, tell them exactly what you told us." Danforth and his partner quickly strode back to the elevator.

"What did he mean, 'Which way did they leave by?' We're on the fifteenth floor. What other way are they going to leave, but the elevator. What does he think they did, walk all the way down the stairs?" Claudia shook her head as everyone turned to watch the elevator doors close.

=====

As the two men got into their car, Charles Danforth-Hayes turned to his partner, "Jamey, my boy. It's time to let Sir Nigel know that his daughter-in-law appears to be on the run."

Agent James Richardson nodded silently as he put the car into gear and pulled away from the curb into the late morning traffic.

=====

.......... Chapter 9............. Any day now..........

Wow...very exciting, Kat! Lot's of agents in badges running around and "Sir" Nigel...nice!

I was thinking more along the lines that she had some past family tragedy that she was trying to escape..."husband and daughter killed in a car accident and she was at fault" sort of thing. I love the international intrigue you've introduced. You are way more creative than I am! Can't wait for chapter 9!

Ooohhh....

I hope Hope trusted Bobby enough to tell him the whole truth.....I want to know more about what Bobby learned and Hope told him. I still think she's in witness protection from something, and I'm want to know what it is NOW!!!! lol, I'll try to be patient and wait.........................................................


You gonna tell me now? Cuz I honestly have NO CLUE!

::perches on edge of seat with bated breath::

I read this earlier today but wasn't logged in ;-__- but definitely interesting, I'm even more curious as to what the big secret is.

Just a short little 'filler' chapter. Another character was screaming for his '15 minutes' and I couldn't resist.



Hope and Bobby side-by-side, neither speaking nor looking at the other, left with their own thoughts and emotions for now. Aware they both needed to cool off and calm down before discussing this anymore. As the cab turned onto the bridge for heading for Brooklyn she quietly asked, "Why are we … what's in Red Hook?"

Bobby glanced at her, "Friends and home court advantage, if needed." Bobby nodded at the cab driver, indicating that now was not the time to get any kind of discussion. She stared at him for a moment before silently turning to stare out the window. Bobby shook his head and suppressed a frustrated sigh. He 'got' that she was mad at him, that she was frightened, that the situation wasn't fair. He 'got' that, because that was exactly what was going through his head too.

After riding the elevator down to the first floor at Hudson Publishing, Bobby had Hope show him the way to the loading dock. Not knowing exactly how much lead time he had, he felt it was a precaution that was called for. He didn't want to run into anyone coming into the building. There were likely to be fewer people on the loading dock and emergency exits were alarmed. There were already enough people up on the fifteenth floor to answer questions, if asked. As luck would have it, there was only one bored young man eating his lunch while disinterestedly turning the pages of one of the books that was soon to be shipped out.

Walking quickly up the alley to the street, Bobby quickly flagged down a cab and hustled Hope into the back seat. After brusquely giving the driver an address in Red Hook, he leaned back and expelled a frustrated sigh. He didn't like being without his car, but he felt they were better off without it. If an APB went out, he didn't want to be caught up in a traffic stop. He'd left the car in front of the publishing company. It was a message and those it was meant for would not misinterpret its meaning. Hope was gone but not alone.

Bobby paid the cab fare as Hope opened the door and looked around the parking lot of the auto repair shop. She saw souped up muscle cars from the 60's and 70's, chromed bumpers sparkling in the sun sitting next to dented mini-vans with car seats and school bumpers stickers emblazoned on their bumpers.

She turned questioningly towards Bobby. He pointed to the left of the building, saying, "The office is over there, why don't... you can wait there. I need to find a friend of mine."

Without a word, Hope started to walk to the office, leaving Bobby to follow or not. Frankly, she wasn't sure which she hoped he would do. But she heard his footsteps behind her, and she slowed her pace a fraction to allow him to catch up.

He opened the door, allowing her to enter first. When she did she was greeted with a smile and head nod of a woman on the phone, who silently mouthed, "Be right with you…"

As the woman did, she caught sight of the man behind Hope and broke out into a genuine smile of happiness. Breaking into the one-sided conversation going on over the phone, she blurted, "Look Jack, get the parts over here today, or we'll find someone else." She hung up the phone and was around the counter before Bobby had closed the door.

"Bobby! Ohmigod, it's been so long." She pulled the big man down to give him a kiss and then wrapped him up in a strong hug, one belied by her tiny frame. "You're looking good." She looked over and said a friendly, "Hello" to Hope. Hope stepped back and watched the interaction between the two.

Freeing himself from the woman's grasp, he grinned down at her, "Hey, Gina." Glancing around, he casually asked, "Lewis around?"

Still appraising Hope, Gina turned back to look up at Bobby. "Yeah, he's out in the garage somewhere… what brings you out here on a workday?"

"I… I'm just going to go find Lewis. I'll be right back." Stopping, he asked Hope, "You want to come with me or wait here? I won't be long."

"She'll wait here." Gina answered, she made a shooing motion with her hands. "You bring Lewis back here when you find him."

Hope shrugged and nodded, indicating she was fine waiting here.

As Bobby pushed through the door to the garage floor, he overheard Gina ask, "You want some coffee, honey?"

=====

Bobby let his eyes grow accustomed to the lighting before quickly glancing around the garage, searching for Lewis. He nodded to several of the guys he recognized from the days when he was a more frequent visitor to the garage. One of the men spoke up. "Hey, Bobby. You looking for Lewis?"

"Yeah, Tony. You seen him around?"

"Um, not recently. But he was working on the 'vette in the back." Tony wiped his hands before offering his hand to Bobby.

Bobby grasped the outstretched hand shook it and warmly clapped the man on the shoulder. Bobby turned and saw the red 'vette and a pair of boots sticking out from the undercarriage.

Also noticing the boots sticking out from under the car, he added, "Looks like the boss is still hard at work on it."

"Looks like. I'm going to go see him, but I'll see you around. Thanks."

"Sure 'nuff. Hey, don't be such a stranger around here. Cop or not, we can still use your money in the poker game." Bobby nodded and chuckled before heading off towards the 'vette. Tony turned back to the engine he'd been working on and leaned back over it, muttering, "Okay, baby… whaddaya say, we get you purring again?"

Bobby kicked one of the boots sticking out from underneath the corvette. "Hey, Lewis…"

"Yeah, hold on a sec." The voice from under the car called up. Shortly the man came sliding out and when he realized who was standing beside the car, a big smile lit up his face. "Bobby! Man it's good to see you." He held out his hand and allowed Goren to help pull him up. Once to his feet he kept coming reaching around to wrap his friend in a back clapping embrace.

Stepping back, grinning ear to ear, he asked, "So… what can I do you for?" Glancing around he asked, "Is your partner with you? It's been a long time since I've seen Detective Alex."

"No man, Eames isn't here…" Bobby began.

"Probably a good thing. Gina's working the front office. She'd kill me if she saw the sparks flying between the two of us." Lewis grinned.

"Yeah, she sure would." Bobby said dismissively. "Look, let me get right to it. I need a little help. Do you have a car I can borrow?"

=====

Twenty minutes later, Bobby and the girl left. Lewis had 'loaned' Bobby his Camero, promising to cruise by Hudson Publishing and pick up Bobby's own car if it was still there and bring it back to the garage and hold it for him.

As Gina and Lewis watched the two drive off in the black Camero, Gina stepped up to Lewis and wrapped her arms around him pulling his close and asked the question she couldn't ask before, "Is Bobby in trouble?"

Lewis held her tightly and shook his head, "Naw, he's fine. It's the girl. Someone's after her, she must be a witness of something."

Gina leaned back to fix him with a pitying look, "Babe, Bobby's a cop. All he has to do is take her downtown to keep her safe. No, she may be in trouble, but this is personal, not professional."

"What makes you think that?"

"Because Bobby's too much of a professional to sleep with a witness."

"What!?"

"You heard me. Didn't you feel the tension in the office. Look, I don't care what anyone has to say, but that kind of tension in a room, doesn't happen between a cop and a witness. That kind only happens when you've had a major fight or something with someone you're sleeping with. Or going to sleep with soon." Gina comfortingly patted Lewis on the back before leaving him to stand there, mouth agape. "It's a good thing Bobby's the cop, because you're not very observant."

Shaking his head in disbelief, but knowing better than to dispute her, he shouted, "Hey Gina, drive me over to check out Bobby's car and I'll buy you lunch."

"Deal. Give me five minutes to get Mike to keep an eye on the office." Gina called back over her shoulder as she added a extra little sway to her hips as she strutted off, causing Lewis to break out in a big goofy grin.

=====

............. Next chapter ..........................Soon.

Oh, this chapter was so much fun!!!!! And LEWIS!!!!!! YAY!!! I do so much love that you brought in Lewis!

The thought of driving off in a Camero with Bobby determined to take care of me? ::THUD::!!!!

I'm glad you liked it. The idea just popped into my head the other day... and the coincidences were there since we learned earlier that Hope knows a little something about cars, and that Bobby would think about 'them' probably knowing his car and needing alternative transportation, so who's he gonna call.... but Lewis.



If you like that, you might like what I have planned for later....

This story has already gone beyond the point where I thought I was finished with it before. The original draft only had 6 chapters and I'm working on Chapter 10 now and foresee another 3, possibly 4 after that. (This one is much more fun than the original....

Hope experienced a moment of déjà vu. Watching Bobby's hands on the steering wheel as he drove reminded her how excited, how remembered how hopeful she'd felt just the other day. Everything that had happened this morning had done much to erase that pleasant memory to be replaced with the harsh, painful ones from her past. Now she was feeling angry, fearful and hurt. And, it was all his fault, once again she was in a situation where she had no control.

Allowing herself the small luxury of venting some of her frustration, she harshly spit out, "I'm going to guess we're not going back to the apartment, so would you be so kind to tell me where you are taking me?"

"I'm not 'taking you' - we're going - somewhere where we can sit and talk." Bobby forced out through gritted teeth. Bobby realized he might have underestimated Hope. Though she projected an aura of fragility and vulnerability, there was also hidden strength. He imagined it to be a hard-won strength. The sort born from the ashes of adversity; the sort earned by not becoming adversity's victim.

Hope jumped at his sharp tone and merely nodded. Honestly, she knew he didn't deserve her anger - the situation did - but then neither did she deserve his. She had begun to think there might be a future for her, after all.

He took his eyes off the road and glanced over at her. She had moved as far from him as she could and was now leaning against the passenger door. He regretted his harsh reply, "I'm sorry," He breathed in deeply before addressing her again, "Lewis and Gina have a little house at Lake Hill up in the Catskills. I think it might be a good place for us to figure this out, for you to figure out what you want to do. To give you the time you need to figure this out before whoever you're hiding from finds you. What your next move is ..."

"I'm not hiding from anyone." she insisted. "No one is looking for me. Some... some one may be watching out for me, but no one is looking for me."

"Who's watching out for you then?"

She was silent for several heartbeats, before reluctantly admitting, "My... my father-in-law."

Bobby felt blindsided. He hadn't seen that coming. "So... so you're married?"

"I was... David, he ... he died almost five years ago." Her anger was quickly being replaced by a tiredness so powerful, she didn't want to continue this conversation; she leaned back against the headrest and she fell silent. Several minutes passed before she continued, "I'd... I don't want to talk about this anymore." She turned to stare out the window.

Still reeling from her revelation, he mutely nodded, determined to allow her the time to pull herself together. After several minutes of quiet, he reached out and turned on the radio. He smiled and shook his head as he recognized the song that was playing. Lewis was a freak for the oldies radio stations. The song playing was an old Jackson 5 song,

You and I must make a pact, we must bring salvation back
Where there is love, I'll be there…

I'll reach out my hand to you, I'll have faith in all you do
Just call my name and I'll be there…

They drove on, the music of the 60's and 70's softly playing in the background for nearly an hour. They had just passed Woodstock when Bobby cautiously broke the silence, "Just up ahead, there's a small little grocery, and we can stop there and pick up a few things."

Arms crossed across her chest, she turned to look at him, slowly nodding. He couldn't remember a time that he'd ever seen such an expressionless on a living person.

=====

The image Hope had conjured up upon hearing the words 'grocery store' was very different from the reality. The small roadside building was a combination of grocery, deli, gas station and rest stop. Slowing long enough to take possession of one of the small carts at the front of the store, Bobby quickly began trolling through the aisles. There was a small selection of fresh fruit and he grabbed apples, bananas and tomatoes. There were boxes of pasta and bottles of sauce and two of each went into the cart. Eggs, bread, cheese, butter and some sliced ham were thrown in as where toothbrushes and toothpaste. Hope followed behind him, still feeling overwhelmed and Bobby had to repeat a request for her to check to see if there was any clothing thing they could use.

She nodded vaguely and wandered off toward a display of souvenir sweatshirts and hats to see if there was anything that would work for them. She held up a sweatshirt with the wording 'Woodstock Revisited' emblazoned across the front, wondering if it would fit him - deciding it probably would at least until the first washing, she picked up one for herself and hurried to the counter where Bobby was loading several bags that had already been rung up. He reached out for the sweatshirts as he said, "We'll take these too, please."

"Unexpected trip?" The smiling girl behind the counter asked as she folded up the two shirts before ringing them.

"You could say that, it was a spur of the moment kind of thing. What's it all come to?" Bobby asked.

"$126.87." Bobby started to hand her his credit card and then stopped. He turned to Hope and asked, "How much cash do you have on you?" Turning back to the cashier, he explained, "I just got the damn thing paid off and I'd like to keep it that way, ya know?"

The girl nodded and smiled back at him. It was off-season, the middle of the week, and these two had been the first customers she'd had since starting over two hours ago. "No hurry."

"I've got $74.00, no make that $84.00. You have any cash, honey?" Bobby asked as he turned back to Hope. "It's those sweatshirts, I wasn't planning on those, but... well, she just loves stuff like that. What am I gonna do, ya know?"

"I wish my husband was as understanding as you." When they walked in, the woman had seemed angry. She guessed that he was trying to make up for something. She really did wish her husband was more like him.

Surprised at the endearment, Hope fumbled with her bag, "Ah... let me check. I ... I think so." Hope pulled out her wallet and found three $20.00 dollar bills. "Here... here you go." As she handed him the bills, she dropped her bag; pen, car keys and lipstick flew out. Bending down, she quickly gathered up her things and dropped them back inside the open bag. She joined Bobby at the door and followed him out.

Bobby finished loading their bags into the trunk and let the trunk lid clunk down. Looking up he noticed the old payphone across the parking lot. Hope had already gotten back inside the car and he leaned down and pointed to the phone, "I'm going to make a quick call, I'll be right back."

=====

He dialed the operator, asked to make a collect call, and gave the operator the number. On the third ring it was answered, "Eames." He'd called her at 1PP, hoping she was there.

"It's me. Call me back at... "he leaned down and read the number off to her. "845-555-1923."

Thirty seconds after hanging up, Bobby picked up the ringing handset. Without preamble, Alex blurted out, "Bobby, where are you?"

"Upstate... with Hope, Lewis has a place.... I'm going to need a couple of days, if you could tell the Capt..."

"You're going to need more than that, Bobby. There are four people in the Captain's office, demanding to know where Hope Thornton is and where you are. Two of them are from the State Department and the other two, well I think they might be from the British Embassy.

Bobby swore as he turned back to look at Hope. What had he gotten himself involved in now? "Look Eames, I have to find out what's going on, before we come in. I'm not just going to hand her over to…. Anything you can do..."

"Bobby, I... I..." Alex knew she bore some of the blame in this, but this was ... a lot.

"Eames I know, it's not fair to drag you into this, I need a little time to get the story from Hope. She's … well, she's kind of shut down..."

"I'll ... I'll do what I can." Alex was trapped. She had no choice. She knew as well as he, that she would do everything she could to buy him the time he needed. "It probably won't be long though before…"

"I know." Bobby said, realizing he was going to have to work quickly. "Look, my cell is off, Hope's is off. If the phone is working up at Lewis' I'll call you in a couple of hours."

"Bobby, just be careful. We don't ... we don't really know what this is all about."

"I know. But I'm going to find out." Bobby said before hanging up.

Alex stared at the phone in her hand for a minute, before realizing she'd heard her name. Turning quickly, she saw Captain Ross standing in his doorway, "Detective, we need a moment..."

=====

Special Agents Danforth-Hayes and Richardson had come straight from New York's One Police Plaza to the airport at Teterboro. They exchanged unreadable looks as they watched the private Gulfstream jet as it taxied toward them and the waiting limousine. The doors opened and Sir Nigel Whitledge exited, followed by several assistants. The Home Secretary noticed the two agents and they came forward.

"Sir, she's left and ..."

"Not here agent. Wait until we get inside the car." Sir Nigel looked around cautiously. This was an unofficial visit and he was determined to keep it a secret visit. Sir Nigel, his chief of staff and the two agents climbed into the back of the limo, leaving the others to follow in another car. As soon as the door closed, the driver pulled away.

"Now, tell me about this New York City detective...."

........... Be on the lookout for Chapter 11 ......... Coming soon!

Chapter 11

After leaving the grocery store, it took only another ten minutes and one false turn to get to the house. "I've only been up here a couple of times," He offered as explanation for the delay, "and either Lewis or Gina has always driven. I've never really paid much attention to how we got here."

Bobby turned off into a small circular drive almost hidden among the tree-lined road. Even in the midst of her anger and confusion, Hope didn't fail to notice the welcoming picture in front of them. The driveway's gentle curve led them to a small brick farmhouse fronted by a porch that ran the length of the home. Flowerbeds in front were now bare, but she could imagine the riot of colors in the spring. At another time, she could image being charmed by its privacy and coziness.

"The place belonged to Gina's parents. When they moved to Florida a couple of years ago, they sold it to Lewis and Gina. They come up here when they can."

He turned the engine off and got out of the car. When Hope joined him, he said, "Well, let's see what we're walking into. Lewis told me the place might need aired out. They haven't been up here for about a month. I remember it as having quite a musty smell the last time I was up here. "

Unlocking the door, he flipped on the lights. Gina had obviously known they weren't going to be able to make it up here for a while - much of the furniture was covered with sheets. "This won't so be bad."

"Especially since we'll be going back to the city in the morning." Hope pointed out. "This whole adventure isn't necessary." She wasn't going to concede that their flight from the city made any kind of sense at all.

"Well, when you explain to me exactly why this is completely unnecessary, I might just agree with you, and as soon as that happens we can go back to the city. Until then, we're going to stay right here." They were at a stalemate, neither willing to back down. When he refused to balk at her stare down, Hope averted her glaring gaze and swept it around the room.

In frustration Bobby brought a hand up to squeeze the back of his neck, hoping to relieve the tension building in those muscles. Not wanting the situation to escalate, he held his tongue for now. Exhaling forcefully, he told her, "I'll bring in our stuff."

On his first trip back into the house, he saw that she had removed several of the sheets, clearing off the sofa, a couple of chairs and the dining table. On his second trip in, he noticed the open back door and saw Hope shaking out the sheets and folding them up into neat squares. As he emptied the grocery bags, he watched her from the kitchen window, following her with his eyes as she walked over and sat down on the small rock fence that separated the wood deck from the open field that was the back yard.

He continued to put their purchases away. Seeing the coffeemaker, he decided he might as well tackle the domestic chores, even though Hope had cleared off some of the furniture, she didn't appear to be taking much of an interest. He had seen coffee beans in the fridge and decided to brew up a pot.

=====

Hope had disinterestedly looked around the small-furnished rooms before noticing a pair of French doors. As she passed the covered furniture on her way to the doors, she slid several of the sheets off and dragged them along in her wake. She really needed to be away from him right now, her anger coalescing into rage. A rage not directed at him, but at herself. For her actions, for her choice. If she had imagined a day like this when sat down to write that first letter, she wasn't sure it was a trade off she would have made.

He hadn't asked his partner to check her out, had he? No, she was sure he hadn't. But right now, that didn't make her feel any better. Rationally Hope, she knew it wasn't Bobby's fault that his partner had escalated what had apparently been an - unknown to her - ongoing situation. All from a desire, a need to look out for him. She wondered how many others had tried to look out for him before.

Her thoughts turned to David. and his death, but more significantly she thought about how he had betrayed her. He'd put her life in danger as well as his own. But at least he knew about it, she'd been kept in the dark all along. Confronted by these painful memories, she felt dead inside - once again. She felt the world closing in on her, suffocating her. Slowly she realized tears were flowing down her cheeks, not the gut-wrenching, heartbreaking sobbing of deep loss, but tears of sheer and utter dismay that had come to characterize the last few years.

She heard Bobby's shuffling step behind her, before he cleared his throat. "It looked like you could use these..." she turned to see him continuing to walk towards, extending one hand that held a cup of coffee. Slung over the other arm lay one of the sweatshirts they'd just bought. She turned away from him to wipe at the tear tracks on her face, futilely trying to wipe away her memories with the same motion.

Quietly nodding her acceptance, she reached for the and quickly took a sip to cover up the awkward moment. Grudgingly, she admitted, "It's good. Thank you."

He stepped closer, placed his own mug on the fence and dropped the sweatshirt over her shoulders. "When the sun goes down, it gets cold out here pretty quick."

"So, I'm finding out." Hope acknowledged as she tied the sleeves up around her neck. They sat silently, each sipping their coffees. This was not the same angry silence of the car ride, but the awkward, wary silence that was a consequence of her anger.

Both let the silence grow between them as they looked out over the field towards a stand of trees in the distance. Bobby spotted them first, and reached out to direct Hope's attention to several deer coming out of the woods, grazing at the edge of the field.

She watched the family of deer, envious of the simplicity and symmetry of nature. After several minutes, she risked a glance at the man sitting next to her, sitting so close to her she was actually warmed by the body heat radiating from his frame.

Hesitantly, she asked about Lewis and Gina. "How long have you known Lewis and Gina? They seem like old friends."

Bobby glanced at her several times before answering. Well, this was better than the wary silence and animosity that had taken hold since they'd left her office. "Yeah, they're old friends … good friends. I've known Lewis since we were kids." He shifted his position to be able to look at her directly, without turning his head. "We grew up on the same block. We looked out for each other." She looked surprised and he continued. "Lewis was always kind of a small guy, kind of scruffy and easy prey from some of the boys in the neighborhood. We got into a lot of trouble back in the day. Nothing too serious – curfew, grades, girls, really it was innocent stuff."

When he paused, she sensed that he was seeing it all play out in memory. "How did he look out for you?" she asked, softly.

"What?" He was pulled back to the present as what she'd said sunk in, "oh… well Lewis was one of the few who really understood my family situation. It didn't scare him off, as it did a lot of others. He was just my friend, everything else he just accepted. Gina, on the other hand, now she's the real gem. I guess they've been together 10, 12 years now. She keeps Lewis focused – that's always been one of his problems, he's easily distracted. Without her, he wouldn't own his own business, he wouldn't have a future. Those are his words, not mine … even though I think he might be right."

"I'm going to guess you didn't need anyone to keep you focused?" There was so little the either knew about the other's past. They hadn't gotten to that stage of a relationship yet, even though on one level it felt as if they'd gone too far to go back and make up that missed step.

"Me… no," Bobby grinned as he shook his head, "focus was never my problem. That was probably why we clicked the way we did – opposites attracting to find a balance."

"You… you mentioned your 'family situation', can I ask what that was?"

"My mother was a schizophrenic." He heard her sharp intake of breath, but when she didn't immediately say anything, he continued. "I was seven when she had the first episode that I can pinpoint. I'm sure there were more episodes before then, I… I guess I was too young to want to remember those."

She felt her heart go out to the little boy who witnessed his mother's illness and wondered what scars it left on the man he'd grown into. She understood about scars.

Suddenly feeling self-conscious, Bobby jumped up, "You getting hungry? How 'bout I make us something to eat?"

She stood and nodded. Silently she followed him back into the house.

......... Chapter 12 at some point ......

Keep it coming!

I need to know more about David, how he betrayed Hope (grrrr) and why the father-in-law is hunting her -- cuz it sure doesn't feel like 'looking out for her' to me!

Really good stuff.

Come on now, Hope! Open up! You can trust Bobby!

I'm glad you like it FM! "Betrayed" might not be the best word here.... "deceived" is probably more accurate, but since there is an element of betrayal in deceit and vice versa, maybe we can excuse Hope for her dramatic use of the word.

We'll find out about David in the next chapter...



To paraphrase, It is coming.... right after this post!

"You never said you could cook.... this .... this was really good." Hope admitted as she placed her fork on the empty plate in front of her. Reaching over for the wine bottle next to him, Bobby poured more of the red wine for both of them.

"Mom's priority was never cooking … even when she was in a … even when she was like other mom's. As a kid, my brother and I had a choice. Either eat cereal or peanut butter sandwiches for breakfast, lunch and dinner or learn to look after ourselves. I ... I guess I had it a lot easier than Frank. He was older and he looked out for me. It was a lot tougher on him when we were kids, there was no one looking out for him, after dad left."

His tone started out light, as if recalling a fond memory, but grew sadder as he spoke. "I'll never understand how the roles switched, maybe it was too much too soon for Frank, too much responsibility … but it broke him and the bond we had as kids." Bobby vigorously scrubbed at the lower half of his face with one hand, before reaching for his glass and taking a large swallow of the bitter brew. Shaking his head, he recognized a terrible truth, "Lewis apparently doesn't know much about wine – this is really horrible."

Hope seemed to be stepping into it with every comment she made today and was beginning to feel guilty for some of her conduct and thoughts about him today. "That must have been difficult for both of you..."

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger", right?" Bobby grinned ruefully. "What didn't kill you, Hope? What made you stronger?

========

A small shake of her head accompanied a dismissive, 'phfft'. "Um, well..." Hope cleared her throat before continuing. "Nothing that my childhood in anyway prepared me for. I'm almost ashamed to admit that my childhood was obscenely idyllic."

Bobby let the silence swallow up her words. This was her moment, but it was also her timing. "Well, I really did grow up in St. Louis, my dad really was an executive at Anheuser-Busch, and I did learn about cars from my older brother, Phillip. Mom was a true throwback to the generation of Donna Reed and June Cleaver. Family was everything to her. She looked out for everyone. Anything harsh or negative was kept away from Phillip and me. In retrospect, that probably wasn't for the best.

Bobby ventured a quick question, "How do you mean?"

Now that she had begun and let loose that first trickle of information, she felt the floodgates about to open. She supposed that the first letter to Bobby had set all this in motion several months ago and today was the day to come clean about it all. She thought of the beginning of the first letter she'd written to Bobby:

'How do I say this.. Words are difficult sometimes, hard to express what you truly feel.
So many different ways to say one thing. So I'll just take a deep breath and plunge ahead.

"Well with Phillip, it was the first Gulf War. He enlisted and after basic training, he was gone. He ... um, I can only guess he was unprepared for what he saw. After his tour was up and he left the service, he never came home. I know that our parents heard from him a handful of times, but they never knew where he was. I never heard from him. I was a senior in high school when he came back to the States, but he didn't even bother to come back for my graduation. About 8 years ago, my parents were killed in a car accident, I tried to find him, to let him know. I left messages with a few people I thought he might still be in contact with, but I don't know if he ever got them. But he didn't make it for the funerals."

Bobby knew what that was like. Even after everything he'd seen as a cop and experienced in his own life, it was still surprising to realize, his family may have been screwed up, but everyone's was.

"And what about you?" he asked. "How were you unprepared?"

"Me? Well I guess in my naiveté, I assumed that my life would unfold before me much like my mother's had for her. A simple, uncomplicated life with someone to look out for me. Mine has turned out to be anything but simple and uncomplicated. And I'm not sure anyone's ever looked out for me."

She leaned forward, anxious now to get every secret out.

"About a year after college, I had the opportunity to go work in the London offices of a publishing house. My parents were supportive and encouraging, they even came over with me and helped me find an apartment and decorate it. I quickly made friends at work. I was going out, having fun. My work was interesting and challenging. It was a great time."

"Six months later, I was at a book release party when I met David - David Whitledge." She paused to see if he made the name connection. When it appeared that he hadn't, she continued, "He was amazing. Charming. Funny. Intelligent. Attentive. And a little mysterious. I was instantly smitten.

"He was working in the Foreign Office in London, but he was aggressively seeking an Embassy posting, anywhere. It took him three years to get an assignment - the Embassy in Cairo. The night he told me about the assignment, he also asked me to marry him, even though we'd never discussed it before.

"There was no time for a real wedding; we went to a magistrate's office two days later. His parents were not pleased. They'd never really embraced me. I brought nothing to the marriage of Sir Nigel Whitledge's son. I was a Yank, with no social standing...."

"Nigel Whitledge? The current Home Secretary?"

Hope nodded, "One and the same, although then he was only a ranking member of Parliament."

Okay, so he thought he could see how a new identity had been arranged, but he still didn't know why.

"Once we moved to Cairo, David changed. At first, I attributed it to all the real changes - a new job, a different country, even to us actually getting married. I thought we both just needed time to adjust."

"But he kept spending more and more time away from the Embassy, away from Cairo. He traveled to tel aviv and Riyadh several times a month..."

"He was British Intelligence, MI6." For the last several minutes, he had suspected this is where she was headed.

Hope grimaced and sighed, "Apparently. I never figured it out though. Nigel finally told me the truth about David when I was in the hospital after the ambush that killed David. David had been working with them since university."

Shocked now, Bobby softly asked, "What ambush?"

"Remember that night in the car, when you reached out for the back of my neck and I pulled your hand away?"

He nodded.

"It reminded me of that night. It was our second anniversary and David had arranged a night out on the town for us. It was extravagant and romantic. All night long, I remember thinking that we'd turned the corner. Looking back, I don't know that we did. It might have been merely the 'part' he was playing. But, I'll never know.

"The streets of Cairo are very narrow, and it's easy to box in a car, and ours was. As two men approached, David reached over, his hand to the back of my neck and pulled me down. He... he covered with his body. I could hear rapid gunfire. I could feel David jerking, spasming before I past out."

"Three days later, I woke up in a London hospital. I had been shot six times, but I really wasn't seriously injured, because the bullets had passed through..."

Bobby waved her silent. She didn't need to say it.

It took Hope a minute to continue. "When Nigel admitted everything about David, he also told me that I might still be in danger said that seeing how I had survived the attack, I might still be in danger. Even though I wasn't involved in David's dealings and had no idea about them. He arranged with the British government and our own State Department for a new identity. No one had claimed responsibility for the attack. As far as I know, no one ever has."

"My parents were already dead, I was out of touch with Phillip and my husband was dead. Karen Anne Whitledge didn't seem to have much of a future, so I agreed."

"A week later Karen Whitledge checked out of a London hospital and Hope Thornton boarded a plane for New York City and a new job at a small publishing company."

=====

As Hope reached the end of her story, she felt relief - immense relief. She was also wary of how Bobby was going to react to everything she had told him. She couldn't read the look in his eyes and had to avert her gaze. She stood and went over to stare out the French doors, into the very dark night. Her soul baring recitation hadn't brought up the painful and emotional memories she had assumed that it would. Then it had been neither cathartic nor freeing. The emotional detachment at the telling was a surprise for her. She wasn't even angry about today, anymore. Everything had just evaporated.

Bobby watched from across the room as Hope wrapped her arms tightly around herself. Now he knew what adversity had made her stronger. It was, as he thought earlier, 'big picture'. The thing about 'big picture' was there were people, individuals who were always had to deal with the aftermath. He saw it every day.

He stood and joined Hope at the doors. Watching her reflection in the glass, trying to gauge her reaction to him standing next to her, he reached past her to push open the door. "Why don't we go outside, the night sky up here is amazing."

Hope let him guide her outside. As they had earlier, they sat on the stone fence bordering the patio. Raising her gaze to the sky, she saw that he was right. She felt almost as if she could reach out and touch the stars. They seemed that near. They sat in silence as they both were reminded of how immense the world was.

"This really gives you a sense of insignificance, doesn't it?" Hope finally asked.

Bobby shook his head, "Insignificance? No. Perspective."

"Perspective." Hope tried seeing the view that way, she sighed, "Maybe you're right."

In the chill night air, she shivered. Sensing it, more than seeing it, Bobby put his arm around her shoulders. Hope started to rise and he let his arm drop. Disappointment coursed through him, he'd thought they were going to be okay. When all she did was to move closer to him, his spirits rose.

He pulled her closer. She turned towards him, her upturned face all he could see. Her lips parted slightly as she smiled up at him. If he'd never seen an invitation to kiss someone before, he would have recognized the look and opportunity for what it was. He leaned in, his lips pressing gently to hers, his teeth gently raking her lips, before his tongue snaked its way between her own teeth.

Sigh....I just finished chapter 6...and I think you just posted chapter 12 (but I'm trying not to look!). I just wanted to pop in and say how much I'm enjoying this story. I'm curious about Hope....no, no...don't tell me anything, I'll catch up! But mostly I'm enjoying this dance that new couples have as they learn about one another. Nice work.

Thanks, I appreciate your comments!

I seem to sit down at the computer and scenes come to me, I go to sleep and scenes come to me... the only thing that's slowing down the process at all is my typing speed (or lack of).

Another great chapter, looking forward to more!

This is great, Kat...especially loved that last little paragraph!

So, now I'm wondering if she's actually being chased by the people who killed her husband, or are her protectors just being overly cautious? Or maybe she's really working for British Intelligence herself and this is all part of her plan to, well, I don't know what. Anyway, I hope Bobby doesn't get into too much of a pickle! Looking forward to seeing how this all plays out!