Complications

by dcat8888

There's Milt, there's Mark, there's a crime and there's Christy...

Complications

by dcat

These stories are getting to be like children…hard to let go of. This one takes place just a short time after the actual series ended. Mark's in law school and our lovable pair are still finding the time to team up to bust bad guys, but things are changing for both of them, even though they don't want to admit it and Christy comes a-visiting!

These characters don't belong to me, but boy are they sure fun to mess with!

OOOOO

The Judge nearly bumped into the door frame as he passed from the hall into the kitchen where McCormick sat huddled at the table with various law books scattered among notes and pads of paper. Bound up trash balls were scattered around the room and food was strewn around as well.

Hardcastle didn't even bother to look up as he was absorbed in reading the file he carried. "Take a look at what I found McCormick," he began, lifting his head just in the nick of time to avoid the banging into the doorway and then seeing the enormous mess that was littered around his kitchen. "What the hell died in here?"

Mark looked up from his studying and noticed the clutter for himself, "I'll clean it up before I turn in, I always do," McCormick explained. "You usually don't see it."

"I don't get how one guy can make such a mess in such a short period of time. I just cleaned up the dinner dishes about a half hour ago, and you're eating again?"

"Studying makes me hungry," Mark justified, turning his attention back to the law books.

"Anything makes you hungry," the Judge corrected him, taking a seat across from him. He shoved the file on top of what Mark was working on.

McCormick wanted to protest, but there was no use, when Hardcastle wanted you to look at something, you just did it, "What's this?" he asked forlornly.

"This," he emphasized, "is that information on the Youth Center."

"Judge," McCormick whined, "I told you, I don't have time for this right now. We're supposed to be cutting back anyway, remember? I need to finish up this class." He picked up the file and tried to hand it back to Milt.

"And that's okay, it'll wait for a week, but I want you to see this now though," Hardcastle refused to take the file back. Just take ten minutes and read that, will ya? I don't think you taking a quick break from studying is going to get you thrown off the dean's list."

McCormick let his mild irritation show, but then quickly pulled the file back and opened it up. He knew the Judge would just keep bugging him until he caved in. "What am I supposed to be looking for?"

"Read through that proposed contract and see if anything jumps out at you. Even a soon-to-be lawyer should be able to spot it," Hardcastle said.

McCormick was already immersed in reading and hadn't bothered to hear what the Judge had said. "Okay, wait just a doggone minute here, they can't put a condition like that in here," he paused, "Can they?" he questioned himself.

The Judge, slightly amused by McCormick's unsure intensity chuckled, "No they can't, unless the Constitution of the United States has been re-written and no one bothered to notify me," the Judge said.

"So this is null and void then? You'll tell James not to sign it right? That about wraps it up, looks like I'll have a few weeks of actual summer vacation after all." Mark said with a grin as he closed the file and handed it back to the Judge. "Maybe I'll go visit Christy back east. I haven't been out there for a while, a nice trip to the east coast would be good right about now."

"It's not that simple McCormick. There's more going on down there than just this illegal contract."

Mark sat back in the chair and pouted. "Why did I know you were going to say that?"

"I thought you liked helping out down there. James really appreciates the help and hey you know those kids really look up to you."

"Judge, they like me because I play basketball with them and let them sit in my fancy 'toy' car, as you like to put it. They could give two hoots whether I'm an ex-con who's turning his life around."

"That's not true, what about that one girl, Lydia, she hangs on your ever word."

"It's called a crush Judge, she's twelve years old, her biggest concern on a daily basis is whether she should wear the red top with the blue pants or the yellow top with the green shorts."

"All right, but what about Devin?"

Devin Thomas was 17, an honor student, who just happened to be living in a tough neighborhood. He was a smart young man who was at a critical juncture in his life and was wavering between which direction he was going to head into. Right now, the bad 'friends' with the wrong influence were winning, or at least that's how it seemed to Mark. Devin was spending his time in some sort of strange funk. He was moody and defensive, very different from the young man Mark had met nearly a year earlier. He knew one of Devin's best friends had been killed in a drug bust, shortly after they met. It was unclear whether he'd been killed by the drug dealers or by police. Devin, it seemed, just blamed everyone and anyone.

"Devin is unique. I'm not so sure he looks up to me. I think he's looking for anything he can use to help him make his move to the dark side. I have to be really careful when I'm around him," McCormick explained. "I've been exactly where he's at. You know all it's going to take is for me or anyone to say or do one wrong thing and he'll make the wrong decision. That's a pretty hefty responsibility. Turning my own life around is one thing, but trying to convince someone else to follow the straight and narrow isn't always that easy. And sometimes I can't help but wonder if we all gotta just follow whatever road is out there. You know some people just have to do things the hard way."

"You need to make sure he picks the right road," the Judge reconfirmed, "See there, you can really make a difference in someone else's life when you talk like that."

McCormick chuckled, "It's more like watching my step so I don't do something stupid."

"Aw, you're doing just fine with all of them," the Judge said and continued, "So here's my plan; Next week when you finish up with this class of yours, we'll go down there and see what we can do to help the kids and help James out with his financial situation. I'll take care of this contract this week, while you're cramming your head with knowledge and your mouth with all my food," Hardcastle stood up and exited.

OOOOO

The very next morning Mark trudged over to the house to grab a quick breakfast before heading out to his law class. These early mornings put a crimp in his usual mid-morning sleeping habits, but as he worked toward his degree, he got more and more used to being up at the crack of dawn.

Hardcastle was already up pouring water into the coffee maker when he walked in the familiar kitchen. "Must be time for another meal huh?" The Judge teased him.

McCormick smiled, "Did anyone ever tell you that you're a broken record?" He walked over to the counter and put in a couple of pieces of bread and dropped them into the nearby toaster. "You said the same thing last night."

"I'll make you some eggs or something, you need to eat more than toast," Milt offered, ignoring McCormick's minor tirade.

"Nah, this and some coffee is fine. I want to get over to the school early and study for awhile before class."

"You know it's okay to get a 'B' now and again. You need to take some time to have a life too."

McCormick had to laugh, "This is coming from a guy who walked a police beat and took classes at night on two different campuses, plus managed to be married and have a kid? I bet you got straight 'A's' too! Face it, trying to keep up with the infamous Masked Man is more than a job, it's a lifelong vocation."

"This isn't like playing a game of one-on-one. Things were a lot different in those days, not nearly the amount of cases and precedents you have to know now, 'sides, law school's not some sort of competition kiddo. It's about learning the law. Your client's not going to care whether you got an 'A' or a 'B' in torts or not. He wants you to defend him to the best of your ability," the Judge said.

"I'll remind you of that when you ask me what my grades are when you cut the next check for my tuition," Mark said, plucking the toast out of the toaster and slathering some butter on them. He went into the 'Judge voice' and mocked Hardcastle by saying, "Hey kiddo, there's a 'B' on this report card here, what the heck do you think I'm paying for, I want to see all 'A's.'" He laughed, "I can't win with you," he paused and added with sincere seriousness, "I just want to do my best, I like doing this, I want to learn all that I can."

The Judge nodded his understanding and poured them both cup of coffee and brought them over to the table and slid one over to Mark. "I don't want to see you sacrifice having a personal life, that's all I'm saying. I mean, I was married when I was in law school."

McCormick knew right away what he was alluding to, "Ah ha, I get where this is going, you want to know what's going on with me and Christy. You know one of these days Hardcase, you ought to just come out and ask me what you want to ask me, beating around the bush doesn't work for you, you stink at that."

"Did I say I wanted to know about you and her? No, all I said was that you should have a personal life. You know you haven't had one of those blonde bimbo's of yours over here in quite awhile. I figure something is up. Are you finally getting serious about her?"

"You're just nosy, that's all," McCormick stuffed a huge bite of toast in his mouth, refusing to delve any deeper into his personal life. He knew that would make the Judge slightly crazy and that alone delighted him.

"Is she moving out here or not?" Hardcastle asked bluntly.

Mark finished off his first piece of toast with a smirk on his overstuffed face, "Ha, see I knew it."

"Why can't you just answer a simple question?" Milt was starting to get irritated by how McCormick was dancing around the topic.

"She hasn't made up her mind yet. It all depends on her career," Mark explained.

"Then maybe you ought to think about moving out east?" Milt suggested.

That stopped Mark dead in his tracks. "If you want me to move out, just say so," he said.

"See right away you go off the deep end. Did I say that?"

McCormick shook his head, "No you didn't."

"All I'm saying is that this thing between the two of you seems pretty serious. I guess I just thought you'd want to be together after all this time."

"Well, we do. It's just that, Judge we live on opposite ends of the country in case you haven't noticed. We're really good friends right now, and we are serious. But we've got things we still need to work on. She's helped me out through some pretty rough times, and I think I've been there for her too, but in order for us to get to where you think we are, well, we've still got a lot of stuff to work out, none of which is bigger than the physical gap of the 46 United States between us."

"I think you're both selling each other short. You're both, what are you calling it now, 'exclusive' to each other. If that doesn't tell you that it's time to work out the 'land gap' then nothing will. You talk to each other every day on the phone and she's been flying out here now once a month, sometimes more. That's more than friends, it's time for you to pick out a ring and ask that big question, and I'd bet you I'd find a jury to agree with me on this one," Hardcastle stated like he was delivering a speech.

McCormick had come to expect the bluntness over the years and volleying back a one-liner was his best response. "Good thing my love life isn't on trial then, I've been railroaded by you once in my life already," McCormick said, drinking down the rest of his coffee and rising up to put his cup in the sink. He knew that would get a real rise out of the Judge and it worked to perfection.

"Railroaded? You weren't railroaded then and you're not now either. You're not fooling me McCormick, you love her and she loves you. I honestly don't know what the two of you are waiting for," the Judge was nearly shouting.

Mark put his head into his hands and shook his head to try to prevent the sound headache that was about to occur as the Judge ramped up his end of the conversation. "Can we discuss this at a later time? Or better yet, not at all. It's too weird. I don't have time for it right now and having you tell me that I should ask a woman to marry me is like a bad dream, no make that a nightmare, especially when she happens to be the daughter of a woman you wanted to marry back in the dark ages."

"Fine, consider it dropped for now," Hardcastle said. McCormick turned to rinse his cup out in the sink and the Judge started in on his next favorite topic, his latest case. "I'm going over to see James at the Youth Center today. I've been going over his idea for the center all night long. I think if I can swing it, I might buy that gas station next door and donate it to them to use. I'm starting to think it's too good an idea not to help make it happen. And there's no way that James can come up with that kind of cash."

"You sure you want to do that?" Mark asked him.

"I worked out the numbers all night long, I can afford it."

"That's not what I mean Judge. Is it the right thing for the Youth Center? What does James know about running a gas station?"

"James has it all worked out. It's a great idea. He's got a core group of kids that are 15 to18 or 19 years old. Running a business and learning a trade would be a good thing for those kids. It's honest, good solid work. It'll keep 'em out of trouble. He's even got a guy who he wants to hire to run the place and work with the kids. It's a guy who used to hang out at the center about ten years ago, he went to trade school and is a certified mechanic. I figure we set up some sort of trust to pay his salary and give the kids who work there a minimum wage too. And there's a loophole I found to keep it all non-profit."

Mark listened to his plan. It sounded like a winner. "It sounds a whole lot better than the Giles and Associates plan. I'm glad James has you to go over it with him. There was something slimy feeling about that whole deal. Do you think James will go for your idea?"

"I don't see why not, James has been having these health issues, he needs to take a step back from the day to day operation."

"So how is adding a not-for-profit gas station going to ease up on his daily responsibilities."

"I figure if I can get this started, then maybe we can find a part-time director to come in and help him run the center, you know with the profit from the station. People always need gas McCormick."

"I'm not even going to touch that one Judge," McCormick grinned, his mind whirring with snappy comebacks regarding gas, but he exercised great restraint. "I don't know though Judge, James, he always seems to me to be a pretty independent guy. I hope he'll take your offer the way you want to give it."

"James is all right. He'll do the right thing."

"I don't know Judge, he always seems so self reliant to me. I don't think he'd like a handout. He just seems like a guy who has to do everything for himself. How do you two know each other anyway?" Mark asked.

"We went to the police academy together. He couldn't hack it though. Back in those days it was almost like being in boot camp. We had a sergeant who made it seem that way. He picked on James from day one. And about five weeks in, he cashed out. He couldn't take it anymore."

"And you've been friends with him this whole time? That surprises me," Mark said.

"Why would that surprise you?" Hardcastle asked.

"It just does. I guess I figured if he flunked out of the police academy that he'd want to get as far away from guys who didn't as he possibly could. I know I would, no one needs that kind of failure tossed in their face repeatedly."

"Not everyone can cut it as a cop, but James found his calling with these kids. When I worked the beat, I could always count on him if I needed some information on his neighborhood. He didn't hold a grudge or anything toward the cops. He just wants his kids to follow the straight and narrow. That's the kind of guy he is."

"It's a really great thing you're gonna do for him and those kids Judge. I'll be glad to help out any way I can."

"Careful there kiddo, I'll hold you to that."

OOOOO

"So, whatta ya think James?" Milt sat across the worn out desk in the Youth Center Office.

"I think this is a great plan. How can I ever thank you for doing this?" James sat and looked over the papers that Hardcastle had brought with him. "You're sure you want to just buy it and donate it to the Center?"

Milt nodded, "Sure I do, this is a great place for kids. There's been a lot of success that's come out of here."

"This is going to do so much good for a lot of kids too. And I'm sure we can get Calvin to come in and run the operation over there on a day to day basis."

Hardcastle nodded, "We can set up the salaries in a trust fund of sorts. The account will actually keep growing from the interest, but we'll also be able to pay Calvin and the kids a wage. And of course the profits will get turned back to purchase fuel and supplies, maybe even help finance a co-director over here for you. I'll sit down with a couple of my friends, a tax accountant and another attorney to make sure it's all on the up and up, but I think we have a good start on a preliminary plan."

"I'll tell Giles and Associates that I'm not interested in their contract." James set the papers down on the desk. "You and Mark have really been a big help to me this last year Milt, with me not feeling so well, hell, you've always been there for me. And now this? I'll have the kids draw you two up some thank you pictures this afternoon. You better clear off the outside of your refrigerator," he laughed.

"There's no need to thank us, we're glad to help James. Listen are you sure you want to take on the added responsibility of running a gas station? It's gonna take some work to get it started you know?"

"It's for the kids Milt, so that they have a future, of course I want to do this. This place needs to go on long after I'm gone." James stood up from the chair and looked out into the gym and saw a bit of trouble starting to brew. "Hang on Milt, I just can't seem to keep those two from bashing each other's heads in." James exited the office and went into the gym. Milt followed behind. James wasted no time in walking right onto the court and grabbing the two boys who were jawing at each other. He took them both right off the court. "You guys know the rule around here, it's respect. And you obviously just broke it, so first apologize to each other and then get busy, you can start in the bathrooms and work your way down the halls and into the classrooms and then finish up with the offices. And if time permits, there's some garbage that needs to be cleaned up outside on the grounds too."

The two young men looked at James with disbelief. "The whole place? That's a bunch of crap James," Devin said.

"I don't tolerate you questioning my leadership either Devin," James reminded him. "Your other choice is to leave and never come back. Life's all about this sort of stuff Devin, you gotta do things you don't want to do, and you need to respect others at all times, whether you agree with them or not," James explained.

"I'm sorry Devin," Jimmy said, holding out his hand in forgiveness. Devin stared at Jimmy first, then at his hand. He slapped at it, rather than shake it.

"Yeah, I'm sorry too," Devin said.

James put his arms around both their shoulders. "TJ can show you where all the supplies are fella's." He gave them a push in the direction of TJ.

Milt walked over to James. "You're making those two clean the whole place?"

James smiled and nodded, "You betcha, nothing like some manual labor to cool off your head. You should know that Judge, it worked with McCormick didn't it?"

The Judge gave him a little nod. "I don't think I was quite that tough though James."

"No, you just sent him to prison," James laughed loudly.

"He's been telling you that story again? How all he did was take his own car? Don't tell me you believe that?"

James put his arm around Milt's shoulder. "I've heard both versions for the better part of the last three years or so Milt. I use it to play you against him. It works every time. Some day maybe I'll learn the truth, I figure it's somewhere in the middle of both of your exaggerations, come on, I'll buy you a cup of coffee and we'll go over the plans one more time.

OOOOO

"Sitting by the pool, trying to study, where are you?" McCormick said into the telephone.

"Still at the design office, I thought I'd call you from here before waiting till I got home," Christy said.

"Well, you could do both," Mark suggested.

"I could, but I don't want you to get used to me spoiling you," she fired back.

"That wouldn't happen."

"Oh no? Why's that?" Christy asked him.

"Because I would be too busy spoiling you first," he said, as Milt came walking out onto the patio and rolled his eyes at McCormick by the sound that the conversation was taking. Mark cleared his throat, "I've got company," he added, giving a nod to the retired jurist.

"Just tell her you love her McCormick and hang up, I need to talk to you," Hardcastle said. "You're both a couple of love-sick teenagers."

Mark heard Christy laugh on the other end. "Busted huh?" she said. "That's good, that'll teach you for saying things that you won't be able to back up."

"I'll be able to back it up," he said, in a quieter tone. She noticed it right away and decided to needle him a little more.

"Listen, say hi to the Judge for me, I'll try to call you from home in a couple of hours all right?

"I don't need to hang up, he can wait till we're through," Now his voice was louder and directed more towards Hardcastle than Christy.

Hardcastle watched him and laughed as he tried to show that he was taking control of the conversation.

"Nope, don't put me in the middle," she started. "You know you both have the habit of doing that to me. I would have thought by now that you'd both stop it, but that hasn't happened. I really should get going anyway. I have to stop at the store on my way home. I'll call later, I promise Mark."

"Okay, I'll be over at the gatehouse, call me over there."

"Love you," she said.

"I love you too," he answered, avoiding the stare coming from the Judge as he put the phone back in the cradle. He finally looked over and said, "Don't even start on me and her. What did you find out from James?" He quickly changed the topic.

And for once, Hardcastle abided by the kid's request. "I think James really likes the idea. We're going to see the tax accountant and Herb about setting it up all legal like."

"What about Giles and Associates?"

"What about them? Their offer to buy out the property and set up a for-profit center will be thrown out the window. James was never really sold on their offer anyway. The thought of someone making a profit on these kids poverty is pretty sickening" Milt explained.

"I agree with you. And I hope your plan works for him. Those kids deserve a break, well except for Devin. He needs a good kick in his pants," Mark said.

The Judge laughed, "He got one today, he and Jimmy started in on each other and had to clean the whole center. Why does that kid bother you so much anyway?"

"I don't trust him Judge. Ever since his friend was killed last year, he's changed. I don't know why, I mean I usually can figure out a way to get through to just about anyone, you know, pour on some charm, or crack a joke or act dignified, whatever, but Devin has his own agenda and he's not buying into anything except for whatever moves him ahead. He'd be a heck of a chess player I bet, he's always one or two or twelve steps ahead of everyone."

"He's just a kid," the Judge said.

"That's where you're wrong. Maybe his body is still growing, but upstairs, he's all over it. Trust me on this one Judge, watch your own back when he's around. 'Cause I guarantee that's what he'll be doing, watching his own back."

OOOOO

"Mr. Giles, I appreciate your offer, but I'm not interested in selling the land or the property," James said.

Curtis Giles didn't like to take no for an answer to his offers, especially when he felt they were as generous as this one was. "Perhaps we could go over the figures and the plans once more Mr. Ashe, I could call up the contractor, I'm sure he'd be glad to stop over and answer any questions you might have. The design for the new center will be exquisite."

"See that's the thing Mr. Giles, I don't have any questions, because as I've said, I'm not interested in your offer. I'm leaning toward going a different way with the center. I want the kids in this neighborhood to have a real opportunity and I think I've found one for them."

Giles knew he wasn't getting anywhere with the stubborn gray-haired man. "I'll leave all the paperwork with you, have your lawyers look it over, let your friends look it over, just give it a chance, will you do that Mr. Ashe. I think you'll be surprised how much this plan would help not only the kids in the neighborhood but everyone as well. It'll create jobs and be a real catalyst for the community. A model for other places as well."

James stood up from behind his desk and held out his hand. "I will look it all over again, I give you my word on that, but honestly Mr. Giles, the way I want to see the center go is in a totally different direction."

"Maybe we can find a compromise?" Giles said.

"That would only happen if you agreed to not turn the center into a for-profit entity. It's a youth center. There's no profit to be made here, except to see kids succeed."

Giles smiled and shook his hand, "You're a dreamer, that's for sure Ashe. But I sincerely think we can help kids succeed and make a profit.

OOOOO

Giles drove his black Ford back to his downtown office. His associates, the money and power behind his named entity were counting on his knowledge of the neighborhood and his business acumen to get this deal signed. Giles hadn't counted on this ancient old man being so stubborn and set in his ways. He'd even offered Ashe an additional private settlement to sell the property. There had to be some way to get through to him.

Giles wasn't looking forward to meeting with the associates. He thought for sure he'd close the deal this afternoon. The associates were not going to be happy. They were ready to get going on their next enterprise.

He parked in his reserved spot and took the elevator up to the 23rd floor. He knew they'd be waiting.

He slowly opened the door and one of them said, "When do we take over Curtis?"

Curtis took a deep breath, "I haven't quite closed the deal yet."

"But you said today was the day Curtis?" the other associate asked.

"I know, but the director is being a little more difficult than I expected. He said he's considering another offer. I'd say give me another week or so and I'll finalize things with him. This is much too good of an offer to pass up and we've got everything looking nice and legal like."

"We don't have that kind of time Giles."

"We'll give you one more day, or we'll take care of it ourselves."

They coldly dismissed Giles, who stood out in the hallway wondering how to convince the old man that he should take the offer.

OOOOO

It was late at night and James Ashe had been reading over the contract from Giles and Associates and the plan that Milt Hardcastle had presented to him. Milt had gone over the Giles contract with him and showed him line by line, where there had been some inaccuracies drawn up. He breathed a sigh of relief knowing that he had a friend who had been a lawyer and a Judge. He would have assumed that the deal was on the up and up and the extra money that Giles was going to float his way would help pay his medical bills and maybe even help him with a comfortable retirement. Hardcastle had explained that such a deal had some illegal actions attached to it. James Ashe was a lot of things, but he'd never do anything to risk the success of the Youth Center he had started some forty years earlier. His life was dedicated to its success.

He pushed aside the contract and picked up Milt's outline for a business plan. He smiled thinking that the old adage was true, when one door closed, a window would open. This was more than a window. At first glance, he liked the Giles contract. There were some opportunities to bring in more specialized training and programs for the children, as well as a profit for himself, maybe he could retire. But James had no idea that there were illegal components drawn up in the contract, until Milt had pointed them out. Now, Hardcastle was willing to buy the gas station next to the youth center, which had just recently gone on the real estate market and turn around and donate it to the Youth Center to run. And best of all, Milt had taken the time and effort to make sure it would all be done legally. Some of the perks from the Giles contract would have to go on hold for awhile, but the Center had run just fine without specialized computer training, a fancy weight room and the like up until now. And they'd have a real chance to not only survive, but thrive, with Milt's generous offer. James' luck was indeed on a hot streak.

He just sat there, illuminated by the dim light of a desk lamp, re-reading every part of the outline again and again.

He heard a noise coming from the gym. Even though there was a window in his office, looking out onto the basketball court, being the late hour it was, the center was closed and there was no light coming from there, so he couldn't see anything.

James got up and grabbed a flashlight and headed toward the gym. "Anyone in here?" he called out.

There was no answer.

He shined the flashlight around and didn't see anything out of the ordinary. The room was silent, so he turned to leave, and then he heard a sound again.

He flung back around and said, "Okay, I'll give you a minute to come out. I'm not going to hurt you, I want to help you, so come on out of wherever you're hiding and let's talk."

James waited for what seemed like a long time. Nothing happened. Then a shadowy figure that James almost thought he recognized stepped forward. His clothing was black and bulky and he wore a ski mask to cover his face and disguise his voice.

"Let's go for a ride old man." He held up a gun and pointed it at James. Out in the parking lot, they both got into James' car. Behind them a black Ford followed.

OOOOO

"Where'd you get the bruise Devin?" Mark asked as he spotted the dark skin underneath Devin's right eye.

"Messing around," Devin said, unwilling to give anymore information.

"I heard you and Jimmy got into it the other day," Mark continued, hoping maybe the kid would open up.

"That was nothing. James, he gets worked up over stupid stuff. And I can take care of Jimmy that's for sure," he balled up his fist to prove his point.

"You're a real tough guy huh?" McCormick said with a grin. He plucked a basketball off the nearby rack and heaved up a shot that clanked off the rim.

"You suck at basketball," Devin said.

Mark grabbed another ball and tossed it at him. "You make that shot Magic."

Devin bounced it a couple of times and let it fly, it hit the rim almost in the same spot.

"Looks like you suck too Devin," Mark joked.

"It doesn't matter, it's just a stupid game." Devin started to walk away.

McCormick grabbed his arm, "What's going on with you? Where's the Devin I know and love so well? You've been a pain all summer long. This is supposed to be the best time of your life."

"Well, it ain't," he shrugged free of Mark's grip.

"You know I'd be glad to listen and help if you'll let me."

"I got all the help I need right here at the Youth Center, that's why I come here right?" Devin sneered at him. "Only thing is it's getting me no where." He started to walk away again.

McCormick shook his head in despair, nothing was getting through to this kid. "Devin, there's a lot of people who will offer you help. You need to decide for yourself which offer to help. "Cause the wrong choice will take you places that you for sure don't want to go."

"Whatever. You think you know everything just 'cause you spent time in the joint. I could do two years in there standing on my head whistling 'Dixie.' You don't have a clue about my life Mark." Devin explained.

"Enlighten me then Devin?"

Devin grabbed another basketball and launched it. It was at least 15 feet further away than the last one had been. This time he hit nothing but net. Then he turned back and grinned at Mark. "When you can hit that shot, then maybe I'll talk to you." He continued walking out of the gym. "Otherwise, leave me the hell alone."

Mark grabbed a ball and went to the spot that Devin had been at and let it fly. He missed the hoop completely. Under his breath he mumbled, "God, I hate that kid."

Jimmy walked in with a few of his friends. "Hey Mark, we need another body, we can go three on three, you wanna play?"

"Yeah, sure, I can hang out for awhile. Say, have you seen James around today? I need to talk with him," Mark asked.

"No, but I think this is his day off. Calvin's in the office though, you could talk to him."

Mark shrugged it off, "Nah, it can wait, let's play."

OOOOO

"So have you told McCormick yet?" The Judge asked turning back to look at Christy as she followed him into the house.

"We've talked about it and discussed it here and there, but ultimately this was my decision, independent of what happens between the two of us," she said.

Hardcastle stopped mid-walk and spun around to face her, "He doesn't know then?"

"He doesn't know YET, that I've made the move permanently," she added with a smile. "Surprise!"

Milt smiled and sort of shrugged and said, "That's tactful."

"Ah, so you don't approve?" Christy asked him.

"Me? Who am I in this whole equation? It doesn't much matter what I think of any of it does it? I'm not the one who's in love here."

She gave him one of her charming, if not condescending smiles, "Oh, I think we both know that it very much matters."

"I'll tell you this, I think it's interesting that you decide to show up here when you conveniently know he's not here. You think what, I'm going to soften him up for you?" Milt asked. He didn't bother to wait for an answer. "The two of you are adults, you can do whatever you want, which you already do, I might add, what do I know? This is just my house for crying out loud," he began to rant and then added, "Aw, the two of you are both crazy, stubborn and crazy, that's all," he paused, "You know you've been playing airplane tag for the better part of a couple of years now. I guess one of you ought to make some sort of a move. Otherwise you'll both wind up old and alone," he took off his baseball cap and said, "This is a going to be a big change for both of you," the Judge said.

She sat down on the leather sofa. "And you don't think he's going to like the fact that I'm just thirty minutes away, rather than 3000 miles?"

"I already said, it doesn't matter what I think, it's something between the two of you. If you've talked about it, then he shouldn't mind at all. You know you're talking to the wrong person here."

"We both value your opinions Milt, maybe we don't tell you that enough or in Mark's case, at all, but we do listen when you talk to us." Christy changed her tactic, "This is a great opportunity for my career, I couldn't pass up owning an established business," Christy explained.

"You don't have to sell me Christy. I think it's great. I'm on both of your sides. Believe it or not, I think you're as good for him as he is for you. I'm just surprised it's taking both of you so long to see it," the Judge sitting in one of the chairs. "You know it's not like you're teenagers. If you love each other, what's the big deal in getting married, having a family, being together and caring for each other? That's what love is all about."

She lightly laughed and shook her head at the Judge's brashness. "We still have some things to work out," she admitted.

"Yeah, I've heard that before, he says the same thing," the Judge wearily said.

"And you don't believe that?"

He grinned at her. "Nice try, and here I thought he was the one studying to be an attorney, but you're the one firing off questions, like a defense lawyer. I'm not getting in the middle of anything. You two do whatever you want," then he changed the subject, "I suppose you want to stay here till you get settled into your own place?"

"If I could?"

"Oh, of course you can," he paused, "Now I just need to brace myself for the fireworks, good thing it's July, it'll seem natural."

OOOOO

A few hours later McCormick pulled up to the house and went inside. He stepped into the den and saw Hardcastle sitting behind the desk.

"Where have you been?" the Judge groused.

"I told you I was going to study at the law library. Then I ran into Judge Keifer and I spent a couple of hours going over some stuff with him. I let you know this morning that I'd be gone all day. "Whose car is outside anyway? Is someone here?" He pointed his thumb toward the driveway. He didn't recognize it as one of Hardcastle's friends,

"We have a guest, you didn't eat yet did you?" Milt said, glancing up from the stack of paperwork in front of him, "go look in the kitchen." He didn't bother to give anything away, wanting instead to hold the surprise.

McCormick was not satisfied with his answer, "does this guest have a name?"

"Go see for yourself," the Judge nodded toward the doorway, keeping himself occupied with a batch of files he was going through.

Mark watched him for an extra second, and saw that he wasn't going to get a straight answer, so then decided to go check it out for himself. He walked down the hall and spotted her, back to him, near the sink. He knew who it was instantly.

"Christy?" he said, calling out, surprised that she was in town.

She spun around and gave him a smile. "Hi Mark."

"Uh, you didn't tell me you were coming in today?" he said, sounding somewhat awkward. "This is a surprise."

"Why, do you have a date?" She teased.

That got a bit of smile out of him and he shook his head no, "No, I'm just, well, I wasn't expecting to see you."

"Would you rather I not be here?" she asked, noticing that his behavior toward her wasn't entirely enthusiastic.

"I didn't say that," Mark answered with a hint of defensiveness.

"I guess I expected another kind of reaction, something a little different, more positive," Christy said, now more than just a little perplexed at his demeanor.

He cleared his throat, dropped his eye contact and took the few steps to breach the distance that separated them and pulled her into an embrace and whispered in her ear, "I am glad you're here. I love it when you're here, you know that." She relaxed in his arms, the feeling of safeness, but still couldn't help but wonder about his initial reaction. Before she could say anything he continued, "How long are you staying?" He felt her smile before she gave her answer.

"Indefinitely," she answered, resting her chin on his shoulder. She couldn't see his reaction, but she suddenly felt his arms ever so slightly tense around her. But maybe she was just imagining it, maybe it merely a surge of happy strength. She had to remind herself to quit making rash judgments.

He pulled back so he could see her face and gave her a smile, "Really? Indefinitely?" he asked with amazement. "For once I like the sound of that word." He reached in and gave her a tender, gentle kiss, which took her by surprise momentarily, then he pulled back and let his hands cup her face, before leaning in and tapping his nose and forehead softly against hers and he followed it up with another kiss. She smiled back at him for his tenderness but didn't quite understand what he meant, until he started to explain, "The last time someone used the word indefinitely, it was Hardcase, when he put me in his judicial custody. This indefinitely, has a much nicer ring to it." She nodded her understanding and put her head down for a moment and then began to explain how she had come to be there.

"I bought out Dimitri's business, well the majority share, sixty percent, it's all mine to run now."

"That's great! So you're moving here permanently?" he asked, now starting to show his genuine happiness.

She nodded positively but apprehensively.

"Well, this is what you wanted right? To run your own company?"

"Yes, but I can't help but be nervous," she admitted. "It's a huge step."

"Aw, you're going do great," he said wrapping his arms around her again and giving her a genuine hug. He loved ever curve of her body and how good she felt in his arms. Neither one of them were holding back now.

Hardcastle entered from the dining room and cleared his throat to announce his arrival into the room. "I thought you were in here making dinner, not making out," he cracked.

"I am Judge, I just put the casserole in the oven," Christy said, pulling back from the hug just enough to answer him.

McCormick was flabbergasted, "You're making her cook? What kind of a host are you Hardcase? She's supposed to be a guest."

Christy interrupted to explain, "I volunteered Mark, and it's not like it's a seven course meal, it's just an old, farm recipe, something Milt and I both remember liking a lot. We were talking about it this afternoon and I told him I'd give it a try. We'll see if I remember how to make it," she laughed.

"And she's no guest either McCormick, she's going to stay with us for awhile, this time," Milt explained, heading to the refrigerator for something to drink. "Quite honestly, she stopped being a guest after her second visit out here. You know the whole thing about you're only a guest once, after that, dig in and start helping out?"

"That's not quite how it goes Judge," Mark just shook his head at Hardcastle's warped brain. Then he turned his attention back to Christy, "Even so, I would have taken you out to dinner, to celebrate," Mark said. "We should be celebrating tonight. Did she tell you she bought Dimitri's?"

Milt nodded the affirmative and took a seat at the table, "And what was I supposed to do for dinner?"

Mark shook his head, "That's not an excuse, you could have come with us, we don't hide anything from you, anyway. In fact we could still all go out, save the casserole for another day." He took a step toward the stove.

Christy grabbed his forearm before he could get to the oven, "Mark, let's just eat here tonight, we can all go out tomorrow night. It's been a long day, with the plane ride and all that, is that okay?"

"Sure, we can do that," he said, scratching his head. There was some sort of tension between the two of them, but where and why it was showing itself now was unknown. "How about a nice bottle of wine to celebrate with? We can still do that right?"

"That sounds wonderful," she said.

"Great, I'll go pick one out," Mark said.

"Hey, did you stop by the Youth Center and talk with James?" Hardcastle asked McCormick before he dashed off to the cellar.

"Yeah, I stopped, but he wasn't there," McCormick answered. "I'll try to touch base with him tomorrow."

Christy looked at them both suspiciously. McCormick particularly felt her stare and he began to brace himself for the fallout that would be coming most likely after dinner, outside of Milt's presence. Basically it gave him a couple of hours to come up with some sort of an explanation for her.

OOOOO

Mark was putting the finishing touches on getting the dishes into the dishwasher when Christy came into the kitchen.

"Hey, I thought you were going to get some sleep? Long flight and all that sort of thing," he began. "I promise I'll be quiet when I come out to the gatehouse," he added with a grin. She'd been taking up residence on past weekend visits with him and he wasn't expecting anything different, so he wasn't quite prepared for what she was about to say.

She gave him a subtle smile and waited an extra second before she told him, "I'm going to stay in one of the guest rooms, Milt said it was okay."

Mark stopped his stacking momentarily, showing his obvious surprise at her latest revelation. "Oh, sure, of course it's fine," he said, stepping over himself, in attempting to be nice, deep down wondering what was bringing all this on. "I understand, you want to get some sleep."

"I'd like to talk with you though, we have a lot to catch up on. Do you want to take a walk on the beach before I turn in?"

"Now? Um, yeah, let me just get these dishes started up," he said, his mind already running in all kinds of directions, most of them had dire ending spots.

"I'll just wait outside for you, it's such a beautiful night out," she added. "Take your time."

He stood like a statue as she walked past him and out the back door. Talk about mixed messages. His heart began to race at whatever she was about to 'talk' to him about. This 'talk' was going to be a lot of things, most of all it was going to be interesting. Was it going to be the old, 'let's just be friend's breakup?' Or were there some other issues that were now going to show their ugly head, issues he wasn't aware of? Did she meet someone else? He tried to remember back to three weekends ago when she was last out here, but was coming up with a blank. The comment about James and the Youth Center probably kicked up something, he was sure of that. He finished up straightening up the kitchen and made his way outside for the inevitable.

"All right, I'm all set," he said, "I got all the dishes tucked away. The glasses put up a little fuss at first, but then they settled in too, once they saw I was adding the spot free rinse Cascade."

She smiled at his humor as she rose up from the patio chair and reached for his hand, which he gladly offered as well and they walked across the lawn down to beach path.

"That was a great dinner by the way, Clarence must own the market on casseroles," he added, "Just don't tell the Judge I said that."

"Your secret is safe with me," she lifted up his hand and gave it an extra squeeze. "You know going down to the beach with you is one of my favorite things to do when I come out here. It's always so beautiful down there," she started. She watched him closely and waited for him to make eye contact with her.

He nodded his agreement, "Yeah, it's always a good place to go and sort of clear your mind or do some serious thinking. Sometimes I take it for granted, you know since I've been living here."

"I remember my Mom told me about it once, when she and my Dad had come out to visit Milt and Nancy. She said if she didn't love Clarence so much, she would have moved out here in a heartbeat."

"Yeah, it's hard to top Clarence," he teased, "All that grain and all those livestock running amok."

Christy playfully punched him. "If you lived there for awhile, you'd know what she meant."

"I know, but I guess I'll just always be a city boy, you know you can take the boy out of the concrete, but you can't make him stay."

They had made it down the path and had stepped into the beach sand. She reached down and kicked off the shoes she wore.

She scanned the horizon, "It's weird after all this time to think that I'll be seeing sunsets and not sunrises when I look out over the ocean." They had both stopped walking and watched the sky change color before them. "This is going to take some getting used to."

"Is that a bad thing?" he asked her.

She tilted her head ever so slightly, "No, it's not a bad thing at all, I actually like sunsets better. Sunrises happen way too early in the day."

He smiled at her, "Yeah, I can relate to that."

He decided to 'attack' first. There was nothing like coming out with something directly. "I thought maybe you'd move into the gatehouse?" He quickly glanced at her and tried to give her one of his charming grins. "You know, when you moved out here," he added with a hint of selfishness.

"That would be pretty presumptuous of me, wouldn't it? I mean I would sit down and ask you and talk to you about it before I just decided to move in with you?

"I really don't mind," he sincerely said. "I'd like to have a roommate," he raised his eyebrows a couple of times.

She had to smile at his obvious suggestion. He didn't hide his charm in the least bit, she really loved that about him. "Yes, but maybe Milt would mind having a border, it is his house you know? And I'm actually pretty close to finding my own place out here," she added.

"Oh," he said softly, showing an obvious wound from her latest revelation.

"Now don't read anything into it," she continued. "I just think initially that this is the best thing for both of us."

"The best thing for us moving forward on a relationship that's already a couple of years in the making, is to still not see each other?" McCormick asked sarcastically. "Hmmm, that's a new one. Does it work? Have scientists and researchers discovered something that I'm not aware of."

"Just because we're not sharing living quarters doesn't mean we won't see each other," Christy said. "I'll be here, in Los Angeles, we can see each other every day now." She stopped talking for a longer moment to gather her thoughts, "I think I need some time to get used to all of this, the new company, our ever-changing relationship, all of it. This is a big move for me. I'm not saying it has to be this way forever, but I think it's how we should move forward for now. And I'm more than a little scared."

"You scared? You've never been scared a day in your life," Mark said with a bit of a scoff. "You're always so self-assured about everything you do. I love that about you, I really admire that. You know what you want and you go out and do it."

She gave him a smile and reached in to kiss his cheek, "Thank you for saying that, but I am scared. I'm going into some heavy debt to get this thing going. I know it's an established name and everything, but my design style is different from Dimitri's. There's no guarantee I'll be able to make this work."

"Your designs are better than Dimitri's," he said with a grin. "You're going to do more than just make it, you're going to excel."

She appreciated his obvious compliments regarding her new endeavor but she decided to move the conversation into a slightly different territory. "I just don't know if I can run the business and move forward in this relationship, at the same time. I need time to get used to it all. Like I said, this is a huge change. I'm going to have to devout a lot of time to work. I think we'll need some time."

"It's a change for me too, but I'm willing to try it. Look I didn't know if I could handle law school, but Christy I'm doing it, it's work, but we can make our relationship work too, I think if we didn't try, we'd be making a big mistake," Mark said. "How else will we know if it'll work unless we're together?"

She knew he was still upset that she wasn't planning to move into the gatehouse right off, "It's a month to month lease Mark," she politely explained, not willing to give into his 'living'demands. "I think it's the best thing for both of us right now, until we get adjusted to all these changes."

"So you've already decided this? You already have a place? When did you do all this? And when did you think you were going to fill me in?"

"I haven't signed anything yet, and I found it by phone and through some pictures that were sent to me in the mail. A friend of mine knew about it. Mark, I just want to take this slow, why is that so hard to understand? It's not like I snuck into town without telling you. We've been tossing around all the 'what-if's' for months now. I wouldn't just up and move in on you. You're acting very suspicious."

"Me, acting suspicious? What about you?" He was frustrated by the fact that she had just 'dropped in,' let all of her plans out and it didn't seem to include him. He decided to put up his own defense, "And you did sort of sneak into town without telling me you were coming and staying for that matter. I mean, sure we've talked about it endlessly for months now, but you never told me it was a done deal. How's that supposed to make me feel Christy? You just decide to breeze in her today and tell me all this and I'm not supposed to question any of it?" McCormick got charged up. "I mean, geez Christy, how would you feel if you were me?"

"I've dropped in like this before," she said, "You told me you liked it when I did this, when I surprised you?" She had him there, he had said that a few months back when she drove down from a meeting she had in San Francisco. He remembered it too and it showed on his face. Still, Christy felt the sting he had delivered and decided to fire back her own query, "While we're at it then, let me ask you this? I thought you and the Judge were curtailing the crime-busting?" She blurted out.

"We are, you know that," he said, with a hint of hesitation. He knew instantly that she picked up on it and was ready to continue her attack.

She raised her eyebrows, "So why did you have to stop and see James at the Youth Center today, what was all that about, because I thought you were in the midst of taking classes for your law degree and didn't have time for the chasing down criminals?"

He stopped walking and stopped her from taking another step, reaching out and latching onto her forearm. He held onto her arm until she turned back around to face him. "Okay, hold on, I see what this is all about, you're mad at me because you think the Judge and I we're out tracking down bad guys."

"I'm not mad, I just thought I was through worrying about whether you or Milt were getting run down or shot or God knows whatever else happens when you two go chasing after criminals," she explained. "And I also would like to see you finish law school, in one piece," she added.

He wasn't able to completely stifle a laugh.

"It's not funny Mark."

"I know, I'm just trying to figure out where to start," he said, still grinning.

She looked at her watch. "The way I see it, you've had about 2 hours and 53 minutes to come up with a good answer. You saw me look at you when Milt mentioned about the Youth Center. I know the two of you are up to something. I saw it on your face, and you're supposed to be in school, but instead you're out gallivanting around doing who knows what," she said, nearly out of breath.

"Would you just stop?" He chuckled, holding up his hands in defense. "Let me say something here."

"I thought you had a four-hour law class?" she said, feeling the need to add one more thing. "And stop laughing, I'm serious here."

"Since when do you monitor my class schedule?" Mark asked her with some seriousness returning to his voice.

"You told me what it was, remember?" Christy answered. "I didn't think it was a secret."

"Did I tell you that the class was four hours, but only during the month of June? It was a summer class Christy, the session ended last week, and I got a 3.6 in it. I'm done now until the end of August. You know it's school, they give you some time off in the summer, even law school."

Not completely satisfied she continued, "Well, what about the Youth Center then? I know you two are up to something."

"We're not crime-busting," he said, avoiding eye contact.

"I'm waiting?" She was no where near giving up this conversation.

He rolled his eyes and tried to explain the situation, "All right, I won't lie to you, we're helping out the director, James Ashe, but it's not what you think at all. We've been helping out there for years. You've heard me talk about it before."

Her eyes widened as if to say, 'then tell me what's going on NOW, I'm waiting.'

The look from her was enough to keep him explaining. He clapped his hands together and tried to begin again, "The Judge and James go way back and the center is having some difficulties right now."

"You're stalling, what kind of difficulties?"

"Some financial," he said.

"And what about the other 'some'?"

"Well, there are some issues with some of the kids."

"You know, you've got the weasly part of being a lawyer down pat, did you have a class in that already? Because I'm sure you got an 'A' in it. Avoiding direct answers, that's not exactly what I want to hear," Christy continued to question him.

He scowled his face, "No, they don't have a class in that, that's just part of my natural ability," he added a sly grin.

Now it was her turn to laugh. She wasn't getting anywhere with him, but she was far from conceding defeat, "Look, you don't have to tell me anymore, just answer me this, are you two in any danger?"

"Not at the present time," he answered with a smirk.

"You're hopeless," she paused, walked a few steps forward of him and stood with her back to him, looking out to the ocean, "You know it's not just you I worry about, it's not good for him to keep doing this stuff either. I care about both of you. He's sort of turning into a surrogate father for me. And he's not that rookie cop anymore, or even the judge who paroled you into his custody. He's getting older Mark, and so are you. You guys can't keep doing this forever. It'll kill him or you."

Mark leaned to one side in the soft sand as she said her peace and he listened closely to what she said. "I know," he said seriously, taking a few steps closer to her and putting his arms around her waist and drawing her close, shutting his eyes and softly inhaling the fresh scent in her hair as he held her snuggly in his arms. They both stood like that and looked out as the sun had already dipped beneath the horizon. The sky was putting on its own living canvas for them.

She clasped her hands onto his arms, to let him know she appreciated his contact, "He promised me that you both would stop doing this stuff and you did too, but apparently neither of you believe in keeping your word," Christy said, leaning back against him.

She felt him inhale and exhale deeply. "That's not true, you know that," he said softly, running his lips across the tender skin of her neck, "He's taught me more about keeping his word than anyone I know. This is his friend Christy. He asked us to help, that's what friends do, that's all about keeping your word. He's doing it for James, and I'm doing it for him." She closed her eyes and tried to understand what he was saying, all the while enjoying the comfort of him holding her.

There were a few moments of silence between them.

"Mark, I've told you how hard this is for me, you know how much I hate knowing you're out putting your life in danger. I can't help but think of what happened to my Dad and what almost happened to the two of you back then, plus all the stuff you've gotten into since then, being shot, almost dying, being in car accidents, all of it. I just don't know if I can keep going through this, do you understand? And now with trying to start up a business of my own, I just don't know if I can do it all. That's why I fought this relationship for so long. It's too hard not knowing if you're dead or alive. I don't think I can do it. Not when it's people I love."

"Why won't you believe me that we're not running around like we used to do? I mean, I'm almost done with law school, when do you suppose I'd have time to chase down bad guys? Is this why you moved out here? To keep track of what the Judge and I are up to?"

His question didn't exactly instill the reaction she was hoping for. In fact it made her a little angry, "Don't flatter yourself that much," she answered. "You're both adults, and I know I can't control what you do." She didn't say anything else, but then decided to add, "Maybe if this is how it's going to be, then we should really reconsider our whole relationship."

"You don't mean that?" he softly said, hoping beyond hope that he was right.

She nodded no, he felt it against his chest, "No, I don't want to end what we have Mark, but I don't think I can keep going if you two continue on like this. I don't want to spend my life in hospital waiting rooms or waiting to hear from you at all hours of the day or night just to find out if you're okay.

"It's not like how it was, I promise, and I've told you that," he bemoaned, "I know you think I'm this really smart guy, but I do need to study," he added to lighten the mood. "It's not like it was, I mean it. We don't do eighty percent of what we used to do," he tossed out an estimate he thought would satisfy her. It didn't.

"And the other twenty percent you do? Apparently you have time during the summer," she added, "Probably Christmas vacation too, and Spring break. Any other school holidays that I'm forgetting about?"

He lifted up his head and shook it in disbelief from side to side, "I know I'm not going to win here, so I'll just throw myself on the mercy of the court and beg for leniency."

She turned around in his arms and put her arms around his waist and reached up to give him a kiss on his lips, which he accepted without hesitation. "You know I love you," she murmured against him, brushing her lips back and forth over his.

That drove him wild, "I love you too," he said, pulling back a little out of breath. They both maintained eye contact. "And I want to make this work between you and me." This was one heck of dilemma between them. He decided to break the silence. "Chris, you know how much he means to me, I've told you that so many times," he let out a tiny laugh, "I've told you that more than I've told him that. But I know he knows, it's just between him and me, we just do stuff for each other, we leave the talking to other people. He's so many things to me, best friend, father, mentor, Judge. He believed in me when no one else did, no one," he emphasized. "Don't ask me to walk away from that. I can't. I'll be there for him forever, however I need to be."

"I would never ask you to do that Mark because I do know that." She heard every word he said and more than understood the bond that he had with Milt. She knew a lot of people saw it as gratitude or Mark's need to repay the Judge, but she knew it was much deeper than that and she'd never do anything to come between them or to break the bond they held. That's how much she loved Mark. She turned her head to the side and rested it against his chest, "I'm going to talk with Milt again, maybe I can make him understand, I can't keep worrying about the two of you and I want this to work for the two of us."

"Well, when you get through his stubborn, Arkansas mule-headed brain, let me know. I mean, what am I supposed to do Christy, let him run off by himself," he rolled his eyes, "He knows me too well now, he knows I'm not going to let him go off alone and he just keeps getting into these things. He really believes he's the Lone Ranger, but you know that."

"What he needs is a new hobby. Maybe I can find something for him at Dimitri's?" She suggested.

McCormick looked at her skeptically, "Hardcase a designer?" He shook his head, "You'll never convince him or anyone else of that one. He can't even coordinate his own clothes, just look at how he dresses most of time. I'm not sensing a new fashion trend coming from him. And you think he can design the inside of people's houses?"

"I don't mean he would be a designer," she laughed and gave him a playful slap on his chest, "But maybe there's something on the legal end or the business side of things he could do, there has to be something he could be involved with."

"You're playing with fire Christy, trust me on this one, he'll see right through it and he might even get mad," Mark explained. "Old guys don't like to be reminded that they're getting old. And Hardcase will be glad to challenge you to a pulse bet anytime you doubt him."

She wasn't satisfied with his support, "So I need to make sure it's his idea and not mine. I can do this."

"I bet you $20 that says you don't stand a chance in hell."

"You're on!" She smiled and she reached around the back of his head with her right hand and pulled him closer to kiss him once again.

OOOOO

Later that evening Hardcastle walked over to the gatehouse and actually knocked on the door before he busted in.

McCormick reclined comfortably on the sofa, with a stack of law books and notepads surrounding him.

"Am I interrupting some schoolwork?" The Judge asked poking his head in the door.

Mark looked up from the book he was reading and noted the page and closed it and set it off to the side. "Like that would stop you?" He said with a grin, and added, "Nope, not at all, Judge, come on in."

"I was gonna watch a movie, but I didn't want to wake Christy up," he said.

McCormick smiled and nodded, "I'm sure she wouldn't have heard it, seeing as how she's sleeping clear on the opposite end of the house." Hardcastle was nosy and he obviously wanted to know what was going on with Mark and Christy. "What's really up?"

"Well, I thought we should put our heads together about this Youth Center thing," Milt said, coming in and sitting down across from Mark.

"Yeah, and thanks for bringing that up in front of Christy," McCormick added.

"What? I didn't say anything."

"Um, yeah you did Judge, you asked if I had stopped and talked to James, remember, a few hours back, in the kitchen. Believe me that was enough to start the ball rolling in her head. Remember the icy stare we both got and how the temperature in the room dropped to one of those wind chill readings? And everything got suddenly quiet?"

"What the hell are you babbling about McCormick?"

Mark glared at the Judge for a long moment and then tried to explain again. "Remember about eight months ago, after you wound up in the hospital with a concussion and I needed a dozen stitches in my arm after we mashed up your truck chasing after Diego Montoya and Christy, who happened to be visiting us at the time, came to the hospital to check us both out and drive us back here, because the alignment on the truck was shot?" The Judge nodded and McCormick continued. "Then two days later she sat down in your den, with you, and made you promise that you'd stop the crime busting and you agreed?"

"Oh she can't possibly remember that promise McCormick, or hold me to it now" the Judge said. "That was months ago, besides I had a head injury."

McCormick laughed out loud, "The hell she can't Judge, she not only remembers it, and she is holding you and I to that promise. Besides as I recall, she said you're always brain damaged and you politely agreed because you didn't want to hurt her feelings. She doesn't want either of us doing this sort of stuff any more, and I can't say as I blame her. I didn't even tell her about last month with the dogs and the gun factory."

"Ah, you're crazy, in fact you're both crazy, besides all we're doing is talking with James, no car chases there, no guns, no bad guys."

"Maybe today that's all we're doing, but she knows us both a lot better than that Judge. One thing leads to another when we get started on this stuff, she's seen that for over two years now," Mark explained. "And a promise is a promise to her. She holds me to that sort of thing," Then he tried a different tactic, "You know it is hard to study for a midterm when you're chasing down killers, pimps, drug dealers and the like. I gotta devote my time to school."

"Are you wimping out on me McCormick? 'Cause I can do this alone."

Mark turned his head away, "No, I'm not wimping out on you, but…." He let his voice drift off.

"But what?" Hardcastle all but demanded.

"I'm thinking of my future Judge, and yours too." He couldn't bring himself to say what he really wanted to say.

"You mean you're thinking of yours and Christy's, you can say it, I understand," there, Hardcastle had said what McCormick couldn't.

Mark swung around on the sofa and put his feet on the floor. "Judge, neither one of us can do this crime fighting routine of ours forever. It's not just about me and Christy Judge, we both care about you too, in case you don't realize it. And she's got enough to worry about with this new business venture of hers, then to wonder whether you and I are becoming the latest batch of Purina Dog Chow."

The Judge scowled up his face, "Ah, I know you both care," he simply said, letting it drop, and then said, "And I'm not getting that old," he added for good measure, "But I know this thing between the two of you is finally starting to get serious and that's good. I understand that you don't want to do this sort of thing anymore and you're probably right, we should start curtailing it," he paused, "but I gotta wrap this one up with James, it's okay though, I can do it myself, you should concentrate on Christy."

"Oh no, no way am I going to let you ride without Tonto on this one Kemosabe. We don't know what Giles and Associates LLC are up to just yet."

"But I promised Christy kiddo, no more crime busting."

McCormick rolled his eyes. "She knows we're doing this one Hardcase, she's not an idiot, you really need to give her more credit."

"So that's what she was yelling at you for, out there on the beach?"

"She wasn't yelling," McCormick quickly threw up his defense. "We were talking, discussing, that's all. It was just one of the things we had to discuss. We're two adults, we can calmly and rationally work things out."

"And you're not even engaged to her yet, tsk, tsk, tsk," Hardcastle teased.

"What's that suppose to mean?" McCormick started, "Are you trying to tell me that she's what? Wearing the pants? Controlling me? You know you ought to start living in 1987 and not 1947. Relationships now are different. It's about give and take, compromise you know? Doing things together, making decisions as a couple."

"Where'd you get that from? Some afternoon TV relationship expert?" Milt chuckled.

"Maybe," McCormick smiled, "But it's the truth."

"What exactly are you afraid of?" Hardcastle blurted out.

McCormick's face was full of uncertainty, "What are you talking about?"

"Look kiddo, you two have been 'dating' or whatever you want to call it for what, two and a half years now? Ice bergs melt faster than this so-called relationship of yours has moved. There is another step for you two to take you know, it's called marriage. And one of you is afraid. It's got to be one of you, and since she finally moved out here now, my final guess is that it's you, since she's doing some fairly evident pursuing."

"I'm not afraid of anything," McCormick said standing up for himself, well as far as this relationship with Christy was concerned.

The Judge didn't have to say anything, he figured he'd just wait out McCormick long enough and the kid would keep yammering. And it worked.

"You really think she's pursuing?" McCormick asked him, wondering if the Judge was correct in his assessment of the situation.

"McCormick, people don't move their entire life cross country unless they're looking to start something."

"Well, yeah, she's got Dimitri's to start now," McCormick reasoned. "She's been wanting to have her own business and now she does."

Hardcastle shook his head defiantly at how dim-witted McCormick could be at times. "You got a beer out here? This is going to be a long night."

McCormick got up to fill his request without saying anything and went into the kitchen and grabbed two bottles of beer. When he came back and handed one of the bottles to the Judge he said, "This is totally new territory for me Judge. You think I'm being naïve about this move huh? I mean I thought it was for her business, she's been talking about her own company for the better part of the year."

"Drink you beer," Hardcastle began with a gentle sort of a fatherly scold, which McCormick quietly and quickly obeyed. "The business, yeah, she wanted it, but she could have bought a business in New York. She purposely looked for one out here because of you."

McCormick took another swig, "Nah, no way."

"Maybe you should have taken an elective class in psychology or sociology so you could understand the human element kiddo. You don't know a damn thing about women. It's no wonder you settled for all those bimbo's for as long as you did."

"I did take those classes, but it wasn't about this sort of thing. Heck, if that was the case, it would be really helpful now. I'm just doubting she moved out here so that I would marry her. I think it was for Dimitri's. She pretty much said so herself."

"McCormick, would you start believing me when I tell you something? How the hell did you manage to pass your LSAT's with a brain the size yours is? Listen, you think she just likes it when you take her to see a movie at the Bijou? She's looking for more I'm telling ya. It doesn't matter that it's 1987, women want stability and security, and they want a permanent relationship, also known as marriage. And for some odd reason that I don't understand, she's chosen you as her knight in shining armor."

McCormick gave a partial smile at the thought of being someone's 'knight.' It was time for another swallow of cold beer, followed by a perplexed look and then an honest proclamation, "I've thought about asking her, but, man, me married?" Another long gulp of beer followed. "I thought we'd just live together, you know and see where it goes from there. Marriage, that's huge." His eyes widened as he tried to understand it all.

"Why not you?" Milt asked.

Mark scoffed and said, "In case you forgot Judge, I'm an ex-con, and she's, she's like this incredibly beautiful, amazingly talented, creative woman, who just purchased her own company," Mark said, drinking down a long gulp of beer. The Judge again waited to hear more of his explanation and McCormick continued, "You know once I get the law degree, then I can say, I'm Mark McCormick, attorney at law, right now, well, I'm still Mark McCormick, ex-con."

"Why do you always forget the ex-part of ex-con? That's not who you are, it's just something you did, a small part of your life. Ancient history, it's over," the Judge swiped his arm through the air and continued, "You mean to tell me that's what you're waiting for? To get the piece of paper to tell you what you are when all you need to do is take a look in the mirror. That'll tell you whatever you want to know," he said honestly. "Have you done that lately? Give yourself a self-inventory? You've made a helluva turnaround in your life kiddo. Anyone would be impressed."

McCormick was genuinely touched by Hardcastle's roundabout compliment. "Judge, thank you, I hear what you're saying, but I'm still your pool boy for crying out loud. If she takes me to one of her dinner parties or whatever with her circle of designer friends, I have to stand around and listen to people ask me, 'So Mark, what kind of work do you do? Or Mark, what do you do for a living, or Mr. McCormick, what's your career? Are you in the design business too?' Then I stand there looking like Opie getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar and come up with something funny to say and I usually glance over to see Christy looking at me with a disappointed look on her face."

"Oh she doesn't do that, I think you're seeing things that aren't there McCormick, you know you've done that before."

McCormick shrugged, didn't say anything else and continued to drink his beer.

Hardcastle tried a different tactic, "You know you're not the first guy or person for that matter to think that something from your past was somehow impacting your relationship with someone."

Mark looked over at the Judge, who now was drinking his own beer, "You? No way, I'm not buying that. When have you ever cared what people thought of you?"

"I hate to burst your bubble kiddo, but I am human too. I have feelings."

Mark smiled, "Yeah, but Judge, come on, I think you're putting me on, you're Hardcastle, man of steel, catcher of criminals, married to the love of his life, multi-faceted career man. I bet you took one look at Nancy and just knew she was the one for you and the rest of the Hardcastle fairy-tale just sort of happened."

"Look McCormick, you know I was a sharecropper growing up, look at this place, do you really think I knocked on the front door and everything was hunky-dory? Nancy and I had a lot of things to work out. Sometimes I felt like I didn't belong here, like I wasn't good enough for her. But we talked about it a lot and made it work."

Mark wasn't satisfied entirely. He drank down the remainder of the bottle of beer and got up to get himself another and offered another to Milt as well. He declined. Coming back from the small kitchen, he dropped onto the sofa with a thud. "It's not exactly the same Judge, a sharecropper doesn't have quite the same stigma as an ex-con." He put his head back and started in on the fresh bottle.

"Well, the way I see it, there's one way to find out," Hardcastle said. McCormick picked his head up and waited. The Judge waited for eye contact, "Ask her. That's what I did with Nancy, asked her straight out if it bothered her that I was a sharecropper. That was about five months into the relationship too as I recall. It takes more to work up the courage to ask the question, than to just say the words." Hardcastle waited for some reaction from Mark and all he got was a pensive look in return. "I'm betting you haven't come right out and asked her how she feels about you being an ex-con yet, have you?"

Mark nodded no, and then added, "The direct approach huh? I gotta admit that I'm not entirely surprised by that revelation from you. Everything is either black or white, on or off, good or bad. How do you suggest I start out that conversation?"

"Well what about 'Christy, I need to ask you something,' and then just take it from there."

"I wish it was that easy Judge."

"It is that easy and quit worrying about what you think she'll answer. 'Cause I bet you'll be pleasantly surprised by that too."

OOOOO

Early the following morning, Mark quietly snuck his way into the main house and more specifically into the kitchen, where he began to fix up a breakfast tray for Christy. He pulled out some fresh fruit and yogurt from the refrigerator and a couple of croissants they had gotten at the bakery a day earlier. He made up a pot of coffee, along with a bowl of Christy's favorite 'natural' cereal that they kept on hand for her visits. He fancied up the tray with a freshly cut rose from Hardcastle's garden and added the needed utensils and poured the fresh coffee into a thermos, and added a carafe of both milk and orange juice. He padded his way down the hallway and cautiously opened the bedroom door and saw that she was still sleeping. Great, he thought, this will be a surprise. He gently set the tray down on the nightstand and was about to leave, when he rethought that idea and instead decided to cozy up in the overstuffed chair by the window where he noticed that the sun was just about rise up and start streaming through. There'd be no time like the present to have 'the talk' he wanted, no needed, to have with her. Heck, she'd barred her soul about running a business the night before. He might as well get it out in the open before things between them went any farther. He sat down comfortably and settled in to watch the sunrise, come up with a good opening and wait for her to awaken.

The quietness surrounded him and the warmth of the early morning sun began to relax him and because it was still so early, he felt his eyes begin to close and he lightly drifted off to nap himself.

In the meantime, Christy began to wake up and first noticed the tray of food, then glanced over and saw Mark peacefully sleeping the nearby chair, long legs extending straight out on the floor, with his head leaning heavily against his arm which was propped up on its elbow. If he stayed that way for too much longer he'd be sure to have a stiff neck. She turned back to the tray of food and smiled at the rose and his thoughtfulness. He must have been up at the crack of dawn to make all this happen.

She silently pushed off the blanket and went over to him and taking her hand, she pushed his curly hair off of his forehead and reached down and gave him a tender kiss and using her thumb, she ran it up and down his cheek and chin with tenderness. He stirred from the nap he was taking and pushed open his eyes and looked to see her smiling down at him. "Good morning," she whispered, this time she leaned down to softly press her lips against his. She could feel his lips turn upward in an obvious smile.

"Mmmm, morning, must have dozed off, did you just wake up?" he asked her, sleepily.

"Yes and thank you for the lovely breakfast," she said turning to look at the tray. "All my favorites, maybe you do spoil me after all," she said, letting her the palm of her hand caress his cheek with her whole hand before letting go and heading back to the bed and crossing her legs underneath her.

He got up and grabbed the tray and set it near to where she sat and was about to return to the chair, when she patted the bed and he instead climbed onto the bed near her. He stretched out on his side, choosing again to rest his head on his elbow-propped arm.

"There's enough here for two people," she began.

"I already ate, while I was fixing it up," he said trying to stifle a yawn. "That's all for you."

"Yeah? When has 'already eaten' ever stopped you from eating again?" She said, taking a couple of grapes and munching on them. She tossed on toward his mouth and he plucked it out of the air and chewed it down.

"You know when you say stuff like that you sound just like Hardcase. You both think all I ever do is eat."

"Maybe because it's true," she teased and handed him one of the croissants.

He wasn't doing anything to dispel the theory as he happily took a bite from the flaky pastry. "How'd you sleep?"

"Wonderful, it was so quiet and this bed is so comfortable. Thank you for understanding. How was your night?"

"Lonely," he honestly said.

She expected him to have some sort of wise crack about sleeping alone and he didn't disappoint. She gave him a smile, knowing exactly what he meant. She leaned back and tried to make up for part of it with a deep kiss which he gladly accepted and returned with fervor.

"This day is starting off pretty good though," he said with a semi-revived spirit.

"Thank you for being so thoughtful," she said softly, dipping in to meet his lips one more time, nibbling on his bottom lip just to show her gratitude. She knew he liked when she did that.

He shrugged and let himself just enjoy the quiet time they were now sharing. "I know you were wiped out from the plane. Are you in a hurry this morning?" he queried.

"Not really, I don't have to be anywhere till after lunch time. I have an appointment with Dimitri about continuing to use his name for the business. Why? Do you have some plans for us?" She gave him a warm smile. Mark nodded his understanding, but didn't say anything right away. "Is something on your mind?" He still didn't answer her. "Mark?"

"Sort of, I guess," he mumbled.

"Uh oh, this must be something big. When you start with the little boy, kicking at the dirt, routine, I always know it's serious," she said, taking the tray and setting it back on the nightstand. She propped up some pillows against the headboard and plucked her cup of coffee from the tray and leaned back. He scooted up on the bed and sidled in next to her, letting his feet caress her down at the other end while he dipped in his hungry lips against her neck, following each warm kiss with another while he nuzzled along side her. She couldn't resist letting her hand run through his curly head of hair one more time as she turned her head slightly just to give him more access to her skin. They both were losing it fast, till she decided to rein in the passion. "Do I need to bring in a dentist to extract the topic or are you going to tell me?"

He kept using those moist kisses for another second or two, then pulled back to look at her. He gave her a nervous smile.

"Let me guess, it has something to do with our discussion from yesterday on the beach?"

"Not really." Mark took in a deep breath. "I don't know why this should be so tough. We've just about talked about everything since we've known each other. You're one of the best friend's I've ever had. I really treasure that. This is different though."

Christy took another sip of her coffee and waited. She had an inkling of what it was he wanted to talk about, but she waited, knowing that it was something he had to start without any help from her.

He focused on the sheets of the bed, to avoid looking at her.

"You know your stalling is really making me nervous?" Christy said. "Are you breaking up with me?"

He broke the stare with the bedding and looked up at her and let out a laugh of relief. "Me? Breaking up with you? No way, never," he shook his head.

"Then what is it Mark, just say whatever it is that's on your mind," she paused, "I mean you have me all buttered up with the breakfast right now, that I'd practically do or say anything, so tell me."

He ignored what he wanted to ask her for a moment, rather to drop in another wisecrack, "Really? Anything, well, let's just see about that." He rose up from the bed a little to attempt to take her in his arms, like one of those he-men in a romance novel and seduce her right there on the spot.

She let out a laugh and pushed him away playfully, "I said practically, and we're not doing that right now."

He backed off honorably and nodded. It was a long moment or two of silence before he continued. "Well, it's not really something I have to tell you, it's something I want to ask you."

"Okay, shoot!" She still didn't know what he was about to ask her, but if she had to bet it had something to do with him being an ex-con. In the several years they'd now known each other, they'd never come out directly to talk about it and she knew before too much longer that it would have to come out, but she also wanted to leave it up to him to do the bringing.

"I can't believe we've never really talked about this before," he started again. "Well, I try to forget about it and maybe you don't want to think about it." He figured she could probably start to realize what he was babbling about, but she wasn't giving anything away. In a way, he didn't appreciate that, he was hoping she'd interrupt and know exactly what he was talking about and say something to help him along. But he also realized he had to do this for himself in order to bring it to the forefront once and for all.

McCormick swallowed hard and bit the inside of his lip, "I was wondering, well, how you feel about me being an ex-con?" He scratched the top of his head and then after making brief eye contact with her and seeing no immediate reaction, he went back to staring at the bed sheets. But, there, he'd finally gotten it out and it wasn't nearly as hard to ask as was now waiting for her to say something in return. As much as he wanted to hear how she really felt honestly, he also knew what he wanted to hear her say.

She had some ideas of where this was all coming from, but she was still surprised by his sudden shyness and apprehension. It was totally out of character for him, yet she could understand where it came from. He didn't hide his background, but he didn't offer it as some sort of badge either. He was right, they'd never talked about it and he needed to put it to rest once and for all and now was probably as good a time as any.

One thing was certain, he immediately noticed that she wasn't saying anything. He started to get up from the bed. "Listen, you don't have to say anything. It was a dumb question."

"Mark," she said, grabbing onto his arm and not allowing him to go anywhere. "It's important for you to know and it's important for me to tell you. Don't go running off."

"I didn't mean to put you on the spot," he started, "I just didn't know how else to even begin. Maybe the direct approach wasn't the best idea huh?" His mouth was nervously running on again.

"You didn't put me on the spot, but give me a minute to arrange my thoughts." He nodded his understanding. She paused and waited till he finally looked up at her. "It doesn't bother me," she said slowly, making sure he saw the sincere look in her eyes. "What bothers me is that you think it bothers me."

He looked at her with utter amazement, "What?"

She set her empty coffee cup down and leaned over to him. "I know who you are in here," and she tapped on his heart, "and here," she tapped his head, "and that's the person I love. I don't care about your past. I care about our future."

"Yeah, but…" he started to say.

"See, you're doing it again, this is an issue for you, not me."

He watched her carefully and then collapsed onto his back and stared at the ceiling. "It just seems like you're disappointed when like someone asks me what I do for a living, or about my background."

"No, what I'm disappointed with is that you don't talk about yourself in the present tense. What would be wrong with just saying to them, 'I'm in law school?' No, you have to make some joke about crime fighting with Milt and sometimes it seems as if you want to tell people you're an ex-con, like you have to give someone your entire history, because of your past. It's really no one's business. I don't understand that. I don't go around telling people that I tried smoking when I was 14. It doesn't matter."

"Christy, I can't believe this never has bothered you."

She had heard his and Hardcastle's account of 'the crime' and subsequent imprisonment and had figured the truth was somewhere in the middle of each of their stories. "So you allegedly stole a car," she used the 'allegedly' to give credibility to both of them, "it's not like you were some sort of psychotic serial killer. I'm not embarrassed to be with your or afraid of you, if that's what you think, nor do I think what you did was all that bad. The law sentenced you to serve time and you did. It's over," she said. "I've done some things in my life that I'm not exactly proud of either."

"Yeah, like what? Break the arm off of your Barbie doll?" He couldn't help but toss up a smart aleck response.

She tossed her head to the side. "You just want me to feel sorry for you, is that what this is all about. Face it Mark, you can't change your past, but you can quit dwelling on it. I'll admit it, when I first met you, yeah, I was a little apprehensive, but that only lasted a few hours at most, it didn't take me long to get over. I saw how much you cared about the Judge Mark, that you'd let them put you back inside just to find who you thought had killed him and my Dad, who you barely knew. I don't think Charlie Manson would do that." That put a grin on his face. "Maybe you see a look of disappointment, but it's not because I'm disappointed in you, it's because I'm disappointed in what you think of yourself. I'd love you if you pumped gas at the Citgo in Clarence."

He propped himself on his right elbow. "I guess I don't deserve you huh?"

She rolled her eyes and fell back onto the bed in heap, "Were you listening to anything I just said?"

Mark laughed, "Yeah, I was, thanks. I guess I just needed to hear it. And it makes sense, I'll remember what you've said. It's not too late to change right?" He leaned over and gave her a kiss, "Now, tell me about breaking Barbie's arm."

She returned the kiss and said, "It wasn't Barbie, it was Skipper, Barbie's younger and cuter sister and it belonged to a friend of mine, well I thought she was my friend."

Mark pulled back and said, "Uh oh, we both have some deep seeded issues here don't we? Let's just see what we can do about that…." He dove back in.

OOOOO

"They found him in his car, not too far from where he lived. Looks like he crashed into a fire hydrant, probably after he started having a massive heart attack, what a waste to go like that," Milt explained to Mark and Christy later that morning out by the pool. "Frank's checking it all out, but it looks to be an accident. And we knew he had a bad heart anyway."

"That's terrible news for the Youth Center," Christy said.

"Well, Calvin has got it under control for the interim. He's glad to pitch in and do whatever he can. Calvin's a good fit for the center. And I can help out too," Milt said.

"I can too, while I'm on summer break Judge," Mark added, "We'll keep it going for James."

"Did he have any family?" Christy asked.

"His wife and baby died during childbirth, he never remarried," The Judge said, "The kids at the center, those were his kids. I better get over there and see what I can do." Milt quickly got up to hide his sadness from them.

Mark looked over at Christy and said, "I'll go with you, they can use all the help they can get today."

"I'd like to go too," Christy added.

"I thought you had to meet Dimitri?" Mark said.

"I'll call him and reschedule or go over later on, let me help too, please," she said.

McCormick gave her a nod. "We'll follow you over Judge, I'll ride with Christy and show her where the center is at," then he turned to Christy, "And that way if you want to leave to meet up with Dimitri, you can and I'll just ride back with the Judge."

OOOOO

Christy started up her car and they began the drive over to the Youth Center. "I'm really sorry about James."

"I know, it's kind of hard to believe. He's been sick on and off all year. He had a small heart attack back last November, and they did the bypass surgery on him. Since then he's had a couple of setbacks, but nothing real serious. Mostly he'd just need a day or two off from the center. Hardcastle's the one who's been helping out down there the most. I'll have to keep an eye on him and make sure he's okay, he's pretty upset over this. He's probably wondering if they can proceed with the gas station idea, thinking of a million ways to keep it moving forward."

"He seems to be fine," Christy said.

"Yeah, but he hides a lot of stuff like this Christy. Unless you're around him all the time you wouldn't pick up on it. He's actually a pretty good actor, but I can tell it's bothering him already."

"Maybe now would be a good time to see if he can help at Dimitri's. You know you two are something else, you know that? Always stepping in to help," She reached over and gave his shoulder a squeeze.

"Nah, he's the one who's something else. They broke the mold on him, that's for sure." The silence came between them, until Mark broke it, "We're getting way too serious right now, how about some music?"

"Sure," Christy said, as McCormick reached forward and turned on the radio knob. There was a cassette playing.

"What's this?" Mark asked, a smile growing on his face.

"A tape I brought along, why?" Christy said.

"A tape? Wait, what is this? This is Karen Carpenter?"

Christy let out a laugh, "Yes, it's Karen Carpenter, so what?"

"Oh come on? You can't really be serious Christy. Karen Carpenter? We've only just begun? Sing a song? Top of the world?" Mark started to laugh.

"For someone who's having fun making fun of her, you seem to know her a lot of her songs. Are you a closet groupie?"

"Yeah, well, my best friend's mom made us listen to it all the time when I was about eleven years old. I didn't have much choice you know, she used to let me eat dinner there nearly every night after my mom died. Karen Carpenter was a small price to pay in order to fill up my stomach with a good, hot meal. I'm just surprised you listen to her."

Christy listened intently and didn't know what to say. His life surprised her at every turn. Every thing he told her seemed to be a new insight into who he was.

Before she could say anything he happily chimed in again, "All I'm saying is I don't know if I can date a woman who listens to Karen Carpenter."

"That's too bad for you then, because I like her," Christy turned up the sound a little louder. "And I intend to keep listening to her."

"Karen Carpenter?" he shook his head again. "I can see I have a lot of work to do with you."

"Uh, I'll have you know that I do have my own mind, and she's not the only artist I like. I have a wide variety of taste in music. And I don't make fun of the stuff you play in the Coyote."

"That's because it's good stuff, no, make that great stuff," Mark interjected. "Springsteen," he said with a satisfied tone.

"To you it is," she said, "Is this really going to be a problem for you?"

"Not at all, especially if we have dinner while we listen to her," he teased.

OOOOO

By the time that the three of them had arrived, the kids at the center had already heard the news about James. The majority of them huddled around with their peers, talking softly, some crying about how much James meant to them.

"We need to get some real help down here for these kids," the Judge said, seeing the all the kids. "I'm going to make a couple of calls and get some social workers or grief counselors down here to help." He went over to the main office to start calling in favors.

Mark and Christy walked into one of the classrooms just to try to lend a hand, or listen to what the kids were saying. His little friend Lydia happened to be in the first classroom and she came bounding up to Mark, who put his arms out and gave her a hug as tears poured out of her eyes. "It's so sad about James," she sniffled. "He was like my Grandpa, he was everybody's Grandpa."

"I know honey, it'll be okay, just let it out," Mark said, patting her on the back. "How about introducing us to your friends in here?"

She nodded and pulled away tentatively, she eyed up Christy and asked him, "Who's she Mark?"

"This, this is my friend Christy Miller, Christy this is Lydia Grayson."

Christy smiled warmly and held out her hand for Lydia to shake. Lydia looked at her suspiciously but finally reached out and shook hands and returned the smile. "I'm pleased to meet you Lydia, Mark's told me a lot about you, what a smart and pretty little girl you are and he's right."

Lydia turned to Mark and asked, "Is she your girlfriend?"

McCormick couldn't hide a laugh, "Yeah, she is, but she doesn't know about our little arrangement though okay?" He gave her a wink.

Lydia however, was more than happy to give it up to Christy, "Mark is my boyfriend too, and he said if I'm not married by the time I'm thirty-five that he will marry me."

"Oh really?" Christy asked, "He's made the same agreement with me. You're busted again Mr. McCormick."

Lydia giggled and then motioned with her finger for Christy to bend down so she could tell her a secret, and Christy happily complied. "I think he'll marry you, and I'll marry someone else, but I don't want to hurt his feelings," she whispered. Christy smiled warmly and turned her head to whisper back.

"I think you and I are going to be great friends." Then she stood back up and Lydia began to introduce the two of them to all the other children in the classroom.

The three of them spent the better part of the next few days helping out at the Center.

OOOOO

The next ten days were relatively quiet and somber as memorial services, James' funeral and trying to figure out the best plan for the Youth Center took control of Milt and Mark's life. Christy wrapped herself around transitioning as the owner of Dimitri's, so any time for 'moving' Mark and Christy's relationship forward was simply put on hold.

The coroner had ruled out foul play in James Ashe's death. He had had a massive heart attack while driving and had hit the fire hydrant head on after suffering the attack.

State and civic agencies stepped in to help the Youth Center in the interim and the state auditors ran through the books in order to determine the Youth Center's future.

In downtown LA, the office of Giles and Associates was not a happy place to be. None of the three men were pleased with the 'indefinite' standstill their 'plans' had come too. Every day the center wasn't under their hold, they lost money.

Finally, on the eleventh day after James' death, Hardcastle got word via the state agency that was in temporary control of the Youth Center, that he could begin proceedings to buy the neighboring gas station and donate it to the Youth Center. Calvin would oversee the gas station, once they found an interim director to take over the Center. In the meantime, in order to keep things moving forward, Milt had offered to run the gas station on a temporary basis along with Mark. Giles and Associates weren't happy when they found out the news. They decided to find out more about Milt Hardcastle and Mark McCormick and what their interest was in the Youth Center.

OOOOO

"You look ridiculous in those coveralls Judge," McCormick couldn't help but laugh at the thought of Hardcastle working in a gas station. Part of him wondered if the Judge even knew how to pump gas. They rode over together to the gas station in the Judge's pick-up truck.

"Well, there's no sense in ruining perfectly good clothes like you are wise guy. I thought those were your 'favorite' jeans?"

"They were, till Christy bought me a new pair just like 'em, now, these are my old favorite jeans. I can work these babies into the ground." He grinned. "And knowing how much work I have to do whenever you're around, they'll be perfect for this gig. Hardcastle pulled up the pickup into the lot of the Youth Center's gas station. "This is a pretty realistic cover for a change. I actually can do an oil change. Besides, what can really happen at a gas station right?"

"Nothing's gonna happen, it's not a cover, we're merely running a gas station, that's all. Just remember to watch out for the kids, especially Devin."

"Don't worry, he won't have time for getting into any trouble, he'll be too busy doing all the work I've got lined up for him," Mark said smugly.

Hardcastle cleared his throat, "Don't forget that I'm the one in charge here."

"What's that supposed to mean?" McCormick said.

"It means I'm in charge, you do what I tell you to do," Hardcastle said.

Mark laughed, "You know no one in their right mind is going to take orders from a guy wearing high-water coverall's with 'Pops' embroidered on the pocket."

"Hey, I'll have you know that Pops Jablonsky was one hell of a mechanic. He could run rings around you in an auto shop that's for sure."

"Ah yes, old Pops Jablonsky. How did you manage to get his coveralls? Let me guess, he willed them to you on his deathbed." Then he teased in another voice, "Milt, Milt, I want you to take these coveralls, you're the only one who can wear all the years of oil stains proudly."

"Keep it up kiddo, and you'll be cleaning out the oil traps," Hardcastle said. "Let's get this place opened up for business and see what happens."

By midday they had gotten a good smattering of customers who mostly came in for a quick fill up in their gas tanks, but one of the local neighbors had left his car for an oil change and a timing problem. Mark took Devin and Jimmy into the garage and he began to show them what to do. He had gotten them started on the oil when someone pulled in and triggered the familiar sounding 'ping ping' inside the garage, meaning they wanted a gas fill-up. Mark looked over and noticed that 'Pops' Hardcastle was talking to someone on the phone. He was just about to send Devin out to do the fill-up, when he glanced outside and saw that it was Christy who had pulled up in her rental car. He smiled remembering that he told her that he was going to be pumping gas today. It really made him happy knowing she pulled in obviously to see him. He told the boys to continue what they were doing and grabbed a rag to wipe some of the grease off of his hands and headed out to the gas tanks.

"Can I help you Miss?" he said with a grin, playing up the greasy gas attendant to the hilt, shoving the greasy rag into his back pocket, looking every bit like a typical fuel wrangler.

"Yes sir, could you fill it up please, and check my oil?" she said, eyeing him up.

"Be glad to," Mark nodded and was about to grab the nozzle when he said to her, "You want regular, unleaded or premium?"

"Unleaded please," she said, sticking her head out of the window. "And could you wash my windows too?"

Mark walked back around, "It's full service Miss, we'll take care of everything. You want to pop your hood and I'll check the oil?" He gave her a wink.

She reached down and pulled the handle that released the hood and he walked around and opened it up. He pulled out the greasy rag from his back pocket and went to the driver's side of the hood, where she could watch him as he leaned in to pull out the dipstick. His t-shirt rode up on his body, as he stuck his head under the hood, exposing part of his stomach. He finished checking the oil and came up to her window and said, "Oil's fine Miss." She watched him as he went over to grab the water squeegee and a clean paper towel in order to wash the car windows. He started in the back, then went around to the passenger side, then leaned over as he did the front window, grinning wickedly at her as he swiped back and forth. There was that issue with the shirt again. And there was no doubt why he loved those jeans so much, she thought, watching him work. He came around and did the same thing on the driver's side and finally he asked her to roll up her window and he'd do that one too. She obliged. When he finished, he went back to the pump and pulled out the nozzle and deposited back to the hitch. "That'll be $10 Miss, and you'll be all set," he said, shoving his hands in his back pockets as he waited for her to give him some money.

She handed him a $10 bill and said, "I think I need some change."

McCormick looked at her suspiciously. "Uh, you gave me a $10, Miss." She nodded at him and smiled and sort of leaned toward the window. He grinned back at her again and leaned down and in and gave her a kiss. It rocked them both, each of them battling for some sort of control, yet entirely playful. After a minute or so had passed, he pulled back and asked, "There's your change Miss. Thank you and come again please."

"Thank you sir, and tell Pops that he has the best looking Mech in town."

"I'll do that, Miss, thank you." McCormick laughed as he watched her drive away.

Across the street, two men in a late model Ford watched the whole scene play out before them. "You saw that kiss? I think we should go ask that lady some questions, what do you think?" The man sitting in the passenger seat asked.

"We can do that," the driver said, starting up the car and pulling away after Christy's car.

"Something's up with that old guy and that curly-headed fellow and I bet we can scare Miss Full Service enough into telling us what we want to know," the passenger said.

OOOOO

They pulled in front of her car, nearly causing her to crash her rental car into them, but she avoided slamming into them by smashing on her brakes and was just about to get out and confront them about what they had just did, when one of the men suddenly appeared at her door, opened it and yanked her out.

She was infuriated by their treatment and could only think to say, "What's going on, who are you? What do you want."

"Shut up lady and come with me," he pulled her alongside of him and took a few steps toward a boarded up, abandoned house. Christy looked around for help, but no one seemed to be near. A teenaged boy appeared from out of nowhere, and hopped into her rental car and went tearing off in it in another direction. She was about to shout for help when she realized that the man already had her pushed into the grimy house. The black Ford followed them until they were both inside and then it pulled into a nearby garage.

The first man pushed Christy into the dirty and dusty house.

"I think you've made a mistake. I'm on my way to my job, I'm a designer," she said, trying to stay calm. "You must be looking for someone else."

"I said, be quiet, we have the right person lady. What do you know about that gas station you just filled up at?"

"The gas station? Why?" she asked.

"I'm asking the questions, you're answering. I saw you kiss that guy, next time you should do that in the privacy of your own house. Right now I want to know who is he and who's the old guy with him?"

"I'm not sure what you want to know," she could tell the fear was building up inside her and showing in her voice.

He raised his hand to slap her, but the other man entered and told him not to. "I just made the phone call. They know we got her."

"You kidnapped me over filling up my gas tank?" Christy said.

"You're not funny lady. I want to know who those guys are."

"Why don't you go ask them?"

This time she felt the powerful sting of the first man's right hand against the side of her face. She held back from crying out in pain.

"You better tell him what he wants to know," the second man said. "Don't make it any worse on yourself."

Christy tried to compose herself. "They're from the Youth Center, they just purchased the gas station and they're making it part of the Center for the kids."

"What are their names?"

Christy didn't want to answer.

"Listen lady, we know you know them right? Most customers don't give kisses like that to the guy who fills up her gas tank. And those guys look like friends, so who are they."

She took a deep breath and tasted some blood in her mouth, he must jarred her teeth when he slapped her and now he stood poised to hit her again, "Milt Hardcastle and Mark McCormick." She hoped she wasn't giving too much away, but the terror she felt made her say their names out loud. She knew she was going to have to stall for as long as she could if she was going to get out of this one and she'd try to give them as little information as possible. What had they stumbled into?

OOOOO

Hardcastle hung up the phone in the gas station office and went to talk McCormick, who was finishing up the oil change with Devin and Jimmy.

"We got a problem kiddo," the Judge began with a soft but serious tone. "Come here."

McCormick didn't catch the graveness in his voice right off, "Tighten that up Jim, okay?" Mark said pointing toward a specific loose nut as he pulled his head out from under the hood. "What? Are we out of gas already? Business has been pretty steady, but we can't be dry yet," he cracked. He looked over to Hardcastle who wasn't smiling in the least.

"No, it's a different problem," Milt motioned for Mark to come closer.

"You guys make sure that the filter is in there tight and then check underneath for leaks," he took a few steps over toward Milt. "What's up? You got something on James' death?"

"Not exactly, but I think we can rule it out as an accident after all," Hardcastle reached over and put his hand on Mark's shoulder, an unusual gesture for the jurist.

"What is it?" McCormick asked, not quite following Hardcastle's sudden collegial handling.

"That call I just got," he paused, and somberly added, "Someone has Christy. They want the deed to this property and the youth center in exchange for her."

"What?" Mark couldn't believe his ears. "What, how? I don't get it. How'd they even connect Christy?"

"She was just here remember? They said they saw the two of you two making out in the parking lot."

"Making out? What?" This was all too surreal to McCormick. "We weren't making out, I gave her a kiss, that's it, I don't get this," Mark said, his answer not even mattering. He couldn't even wrap his mind around what was happening, it didn't seem real.

"Yeah, but that was enough for them to see. I get the feeling that they don't like the fact that you and I are here. They must be watching us. My best bet is that this is that Giles and Associates. They must have trailed her and picked her up."

"Well, did you talk to her, is she okay?" Mark asked. "What did they say? When can we make the exchange?"

"I don't know, they wouldn't let me talk to her, but they said they wouldn't hurt her as long as we signed over the deed. We need to find who this Giles character is and who his unknown associates are. My money is on them."

Mark ran his hand through his hair and turned his back to Hardcastle. "What do we do now? We gotta find her." Hardcastle already could tell he wasn't thinking clearly or even thinking at all for that matter. He'd have to keep a close eye on McCormick and make sure he didn't do anything stupid. He had momentarily debated not telling him about Christy, but he knew if he did that their friendship would be over, this wasn't something he could keep from him and he honestly, Hardcastle would need him to get her back just as much as Mark would need him.

"They want to make the switch tomorrow. They said they'd call later with a location."

"Okay, so we have awhile to figure out where she might be right? We don't have to wait for them to call, maybe we can find her first." He still didn't face Hardcastle. He was trying diligently to control the panic that was setting in. The last times he'd had the sinking feeling he currently felt both involved Milt's life hanging in the balance. First in Clarence in the reservoir and then in the annex courtroom right after Weed Randall had blasted a hole in him. His throat suddenly went dry recalling that feeling of helplessness that engulfed him.

"We can try," Milt murmured. "I don't have any idea where to start looking though. I don't know who these goons even are."

McCormick's anger flared, "Someone's got to know who they are. Can't we run a trace on them somehow, get Frank on this, something? Someone has to know," Mark took a few wary steps away from the Judge.

"We will Mark, I already called Frank and left him a message."

"Left him a message, Judge this is Christy," he said, his voice rising, he finally turned around and revealed his emotional, watery blue eyes.

"I know it's Christy," Milt said, trying to maintain his composure. "We'll find her, I promise you."

"Promise? Judge you can't promise me that. You know when this stuff is you and me, it's one thing, but damn," he paused, "she's right, I finally understand what she's been trying to tell me. She doesn't deserve to be caught up in this. It's crazy, not her," his voice wavered again. "Not like this."

"And I'm telling you we're going to find her," Milt said, his voice rising. He felt by saying it, that it would indeed be so. Over the years, Hardcastle turned to that verbal oath simply to assure himself. He quietly added, "I just wish I knew where to start."

Mark looked over into the garage area and saw Devin staring back at him, the look on his young face was one of defiant smugness. "I do," Mark said quietly and walked over to Devin. It was like a trigger going off in his head.

"Where are they Devin?" McCormick said, getting right in Devin's face. "Who are they and where did they take Christy?"

Jimmy slid out from underneath the car as he heard the loud discussion starting.

"I, uh, I don't know what you're talking about," Devin said, suddenly showing a quick hint of fear.

"Cut the crap Devin. I know you know more about what's going on here than anyone. My bet is that you're playing both sides. You tell me I'm wrong?" Devin didn't respond. "Quit playing the innocent schoolboy and tell me what you know, or I promise I will stop being nice to you and when you're sitting in a cell in San Quentin for being an accessory to 1st degree murder and kidnapping, maybe then you'll realize which side you should have chosen."

"Man, I don't know what the hell you're talking about, McCormick, so get out of my face. I didn't kill no one or help anyone kill someone. And when have you ever been nice?" Devin began shouting. "You're all just condescending," he kept going, glancing over to Hardcastle. "I'm sick of it. I don't know nothing." He turned his back to all of them.

McCormick was far from satisfied. His personal radar alarm was going off. He vowed internally to get the answers he wanted anyway he could. He grabbed Devin's shoulder and spun him back around, "The hell you don't Devin. And you're right, I have been condescending to you, but that's over starting right now. I'm just as tired of being nice to you when you're nothing but a lying piece of garbage. I've seen all kinds of punks like you, people want to help you but all you do is spit at them and lie to them. I can't bring back your friend and I don't know what happened to him, but turning to more violence is not the answer. Now someone was just here and they took the woman I love and they probably killed James. And I am not going to let them kill her, do you understand? It took me awhile to learn this for myself, 'cause I was headed to the same place you're going, but sometimes you have to trust someone other than yourself. I know you know right from wrong. There are people who do care about you for the right reason. Right now is when you have to decide which side you're going to follow."

Devin had chosen his side. "Look man, I don't nothing about James dying, he had a heart attack remember and rammed his car, big deal. And I don't know about your stupid girlfriend either, and all I need is myself. That's all I got to count on. You're looking in the wrong place for your answers."

Milt stepped over closer to the two of them. His goal was to get the information without things getting out of control. Right now he had the only semi-level head in the room, but he was going to lose it too, if Mark was right in questioning Devin about all of this. "Devin, if you know anything, you need to tell us. One person is dead already. What would stop them from coming after you? Is that how you want to end up? Dead or in jail?"

Devin backed away from both of them, nearly bumping into Jimmy. "How many times do I have to tell you, I don't know nothing," then he did knock into Jimmy as he tried to move away from all of them, "Get out of my way man." He pushed Jimmy against the wall.

Jimmy stood up straight and fired back a shove of his own. Now it was his turn to choose his side and he picked Hardcastle and McCormick, "I saw you talking with them two guys in the black Ford a couple of days ago Devin out in front of the center. I asked you who they were and you told me to mind my own business. You should tell the Judge and Mark what you know."

"I was giving them directions, that's all," he said glaring at Jimmy.

"You were doing more than that. I saw them hand you an envelope. And I've seen you with them before Devin," Jimmy moved toward him. "They're giving you money for something, what else could it be?"

"Shut up Jimmy, I'll knock you sideways if you say anything more," Devin tightened up a fist.

"Judge Hardcastle, if I knew who they were, I'd tell you," Jimmy said, "I can describe them for you and I know it was a black Ford, probably this year or last years model. It was pretty shiny, you know."

"Thanks Jimmy, I appreciate your help." The Judge kept a close eye on Mark who was intently staring at Devin. McCormick wasn't about to play nice. He took several calculated steps to close the distance between them.

Mark stepped right up to Devin's face, looking down slightly at the shorter youth. He grabbed him by the shoulders forcibly. "I'm not messing with you anymore Devin. I'm not waiting for the cops to come and get a description from Jimmy. I want to know what you know right now, do you understand me? You had better start telling me."

"Mark?" The Judge tried to diffuse the tense situation.

"Leave me alone Judge," Mark said loudly, taking a quick glance over to show Hardcastle the intimidating anger that was building on his face. "This is about Christy and I want to know what he knows. I don't have time to be nice to him anymore, I've tried that and it doesn't work with him. This is the only thing he understands," McCormick kept his tightening his grip on the young man. Devin's face began to show the strain of being physically attacked, but his eyes weren't showing any fear.

"I don't know where they are," Devin screamed at Mark.

"Who are they then? What are their names? I swear Devin, you better tell me what you know." He pushed him back against the wall, there was nowhere for Devin to go. And the shove against the cinder block wall had to hurt.

"McCormick ease up, let him talk," the Judge said again.

"NO," Mark shouted, "First he talks, then I'll ease up. Do you understand Devin? I'm not fooling around anymore. No one else is going to die." McCormick took his forearm and forced it into Devin's chest. "Now start talking."

Devin defiantly glared at McCormick, still refusing to say anything. Mark pressed even harder and Hardcastle started toward them in order to prevent either one of them from doing anything they'd regret.

From the side door a young girl's voice was heard. "I know where they are." It was Lydia Grayson.

McCormick kept his grip on Devin and everyone's eyes focused in on the 12-year old girl.

"You know where they are sweetheart?" Milt asked the little girl.

"I saw where that car goes that Jimmy talked about and I know they took Christy there," she explained. "I can show you."

Devin tried to push Mark off, but he wasn't going anywhere. "Shut up Lydia, don't say anything," Devin screamed at the little girl.

Mark shoved him back against the wall, "Don't move Devin and let her talk." Devin grunted from the strain and the pain of the shove.

"They killed James Devin, and now they took Mark's girlfriend. I have to tell," she said, taking a few more steps into the garage. She must have there for awhile listening to the whole conversation. "They might hurt her and I like Christy and Mark. I thought you did too Devin."

"Jimmy, go in the office and call the cops and tell them to send an unmarked unit out here, then wait in there till they come," the Judge said. "And take Lydia with you right now." The Judge calmly instructed, hoping that by sending out Jimmy and Lydia that just maybe Devin would start coughing up the information. And he still needed to keep an eye on McCormick and his incensed emotions.

Jimmy obeyed without saying a word. He grabbed Lydia's hand and took her into the office and did as he'd been instructed.

Mark still was locked in the stare down with Devin and he hadn't budged from the hold he maintained on him.

Hardcastle took a step closer to Devin and Mark. "Devin, this is your last chance, McCormick's right. You either start telling us what you know right now or when the cops get here they will arrest you. I can guarantee you that. What's it gonna be?"

"I told you, I don't know anyone, and I don't care about your girlfriend either, she's just like the rest of you," he answered smugly, once more looking directly into Mark's eyes.

McCormick didn't back down from his own look or the grip he had on Devin, in fact he leaned into Devin harder as he heard his latest response.

The Judge saw McCormick tense up and drive his forearm even harder into the boy, so he took the final couple of steps closer to get between them, before this thing got out of hand. He started to try to pry Mark loose from Devin. "McCormick, come on, we'll get what we need to know from Lydia. The cops are on their way. We'll find Christy. Let go of him."

McCormick didn't even look at the Judge, he kept glaring at Devin and Devin returned the stare. Mark took his arms and pushed the Judge away and pulled Devin forward only to smash him backwards against the wall. "Tell me what you know, damn it."

"Mark, Christy wouldn't want you to do this." Hardcastle put his hands on his shoulders and tried to pull him off Devin once again. "Think about her."

"I am thinking about her, don't you understand?" Mark shouted at the Judge.

Devin pursed his lips and still refused to tell them what he knew. "Go to hell."

Mark was about to drive him into the wall once again when the Judge grabbed him with an even stronger grip. He pulled him back and said, "Mark, don't do this, come on, we can find her now. We know where they're at. Lydia can tell us. We don't need Devin." McCormick finally began to relinquish the force he had on him.

Devin didn't say anything, he leaned his head back against the wall of the garage, obviously relieved to be let out of the grip that McCormick held on him.

Mark took a step back, and Milt continued to keep a hold onto his shoulders.

"He's crazy, I could sue him for putting his hands on me, I'm only 17. How'd you like that McCormick?" Devin started, as he felt a bit of power flow back through him now that he wasn't being slammed against the wall and held against his will.

Mark started to go after him again, but the Judge pulled him back. "Knock it off, that's what he wants." Hardcastle moved to get in between the two of them. "Tell you what, you go into the office and see what Lydia knows and I'll stay here and baby-sit Devin." He gave McCormick a slight shove toward the office. Mark didn't say anything, he simply turned and walked away for the time being.

Milt turned his attention to Devin.

"I don't need no babysitter 'Pops'" Devin snidely laughed.

Now it was Milt's turn to move toward him and poke this kid in the chest. "I've had just about enough of your fat mouth, so here's the deal, you knock off the know-it-all, I'm an island unto myself, smart aleck comments and you listen to me. You're in so deep right now Devin, that even with my help, if I was so inclined to give, that you'll be looking at some serious prison time. Accessory to first degree murder and kidnapping are pretty serious charges and we've got you so far linked into this thing now that I can assure you that you'll be spending the best years of you life behind bars and you just might see the light of day just in time to die."

"Hey, McCormick assaulted me, James and Lydia saw it," Devin said.

"And a first year law student would get the charge against McCormick thrown out in a heartbeat Devin. Assault vs. murder and kidnapping, there's no contest there. He's trying to save people's lives, including yours."

"Aw, you're just trying to scare me, only McCormick tried it with violence, you're just trying to mess with my head. I don't know nothing," he shouted again. "You two don't hear very well."

"I hear that," Milt thumbed his way toward the street as they both heard sirens approaching. "I'm not messing with anything Devin. I was a cop for twenty years and a lawyer and Judge for another twenty after that. I know the law inside and out," he paused, "but here come the cops, they'll take you downtown and book you. Then we'll see how much you do and don't know."

Two officers came into the garage and Hardcastle said to them, "Book him for accessory to murder and kidnapping. I'll be downtown later to give you my statement." One of the officers turned Devin around and slapped handcuffs on him. He defiantly was led out of the garage. Hardcastle said to the other cop, "Is there another unit coming? We've got a kidnapping situation and we're gonna need some help."

"Lieutenant Harper is on his way sir. He heard the call and is responding himself."

The Judge walked over to the office where Lydia, Jimmy and McCormick were.

"It's just down the street Judge," Mark began, standing up to face Hardcastle. "There's a condemned house that's all boarded up, but apparently they pull around the back, through the alley and get into it there. Jimmy said the kids used to play in there, but then these adults moved in and started using it to cook up drugs. We should get over there."

"Hold on here, we're not going to go chasing down there without some back-up," Milt answered.

"What? We know where they are, let's go Judge," Mark pleaded.

"You're not going anywhere until you settle down," he gave Mark a stern look. Then the Judge knelt down to talk to Lydia, who was sitting in a chair, "Sweetheart, you saw some men take Christy into the house?"

She nodded and gave Mark a timid smile, then she looked back at the Judge. "I know that it's Mark's girlfriend. He showed me a picture of her and I remembered that I talked to her at the center. She was nice. I was on my way back from the store for my auntie and I was walking in the alley. I've seen that car back there before. I saw one man push her into the abandoned house. I was afraid to tell anyone."

"It's okay honey, everything's going to be just fine now," the Judge gave her knee a tender squeeze as he stood back up. "Frank's on his way over here. We'll lock up this place up and then get some tactical units to give us a hand in getting Christy out of there. And I'm putting these two in protective custody till we get this all wrapped up."

"Let's get over there now," Mark said, still pushing for an immediate attack.

"McCormick, would you hold on, we can't just go blazing in there, just you and me."

Mark shook his head in disbelief, "Why not? We've done it before, we do it all the time."

"Because it's Christy that's in there, that's why and look at you, you're already loosing it."

"I'm not loosing anything, I just want to get her out of there. And I figured the Lone Ranger would want to get her out of there too," he said angrily, brushing past the Judge and heading outside.

Hardcastle quickly followed him, "Hey, slow down here."

"It's Christy in there Judge," he shook his head fearfully, "If anything happens to her," his voice dropped off. He kept walking.

Hardcastle grabbed his arm and stopped him from walking, "Nothing's gonna happen to her. Those goons don't even know we've got a beat on them. It's all working in our favor. You gotta see that. There's nothing that you need to go off the deep end for right now."

"No? Just Christy," he said. Mark rubbed his eyes and the side of his head. "We gotta make sure she's okay Judge. That's all I can do for her."

"What are you talking about?" The Judge asked him.

"I'm not going to have a chance in hell to have a future with her after this Judge. She's been kidnapped because of our little line of work. A line of work that you and I both promised her we'd be getting out of. And now this? She'll never want to see me again when this is all over, if this is ever all over."

"Oh you don't know that. You're getting way ahead of yourself. I'll talk to her."

As much as McCormick wanted to laugh at the Judge's fatherly concern, he was far too worried about getting Christy out alive. He studied the Judge for quick passing moment, and about how many times the Judge had got him out of all kinds of trouble. The guy was unbelievable. How many times had he gotten him out of jams? He took a second to breathe and he changed the subject, "I'm sorry about Devin Judge. Thanks for pulling me off him before it got out of hand."

Hardcastle shrugged, "You did what I wanted to do, but unfortunately the kid still made the wrong choice. Sometimes you have to learn the hard way. I thought he was different."

Just then Frank pulled up in his car, entered the office and they began plan out how to get Christy.

OOOOO

The three of them sat in the garage office, going over the plan to invade the abandoned house on 76th Street.

Another detective entered and handed some paper information to Harper, "Lieutenant, I was asked to give you this."

"Thanks Miller," Frank said, taking the paper and starting to read it over. A smile came to his face. "We finally have something. Looks like the DEA has been following your friends at Giles and Associates for the last few months."

"The DEA? Drugs? That's what this is all about? I don't get it. Why do they want the Youth Center and the Gas Station then?" McCormick asked.

"Listen to this," Frank was still reading, "Oh this is good. Sometimes I can't believe the crap that people can cook up. This is a new one."

"Frank, would you just tell us?" Hardcastle said.

"Yeah, yeah. It seems as though these guys have got this little endeavor of theirs already working down in San Diego, and rumors that they've done it up in Sacramento and San Francisco too. They infiltrate a non-profit run Youth Center, hustle up the kids who hang out there to work for them dealing and selling drugs in the neighborhood, give them more money than they'd probably ever think they'd have and eventually get to the director, one way or another. Then they convince the director that turning the Center into a for-profit entity would be beneficial to the community. The guy in San Diego actually signed the contract and collected a million dollar bonus for himself."

"So they buy off the director and use the center and the kids to cover their drug operation?" Mark asked in disbelief. "That's what this is?"

"Yeah, that's about it in a nutshell, DEA thinks this is a multi-million dollar operation," Harper said, pushing the papers over for him to read for himself. "The center becomes an in and outtake for the majority of the drug action in the city. And they all do it under this wholesome cover. Pretty disgusting huh?"

"They make a profit on other people's pain. It is sickening. Using kids and bribing them with a fancy gym and a heated pool? No wonder these kids think their normal lives are dead ends," Hardcastle said. "Who could stand up to this sort of pressure coming at them?"

"It's hard for a gas station that pays them minimum wage to compete, you know?" Harper said. "DEA should be here any second to help us with the tactical."

"Christy is not going to believe what she stumbled into," Mark said, ever second she was held was getting tougher and tougher on him. "I can't believe what we stumbled into." He said, glancing through the report that Frank had slid over.

"Mark, her safety is the key here, we all know that," Frank said, getting up from the chair he was in. "We've all done this before."

McCormick took a deep breath, "I'm going in with you guys."

Harper looked over to Milt, who shrugged, and then back to McCormick and said, "Mark, we'd rather have you stay back. I know how you feel about her, but running in there like a mad-man isn't going to help."

"I wouldn't do that," he replied.

"Maybe not, but I can't let you do it. We've got a team specially trained for exactly this sort of thing, we can handle it. You can come in right after we contain the situation, I promise," Frank explained.

"Mark, you need to let Frank take care of this," Milt said seconding Harper's plea.

"Judge, I want to go in there. She's going to be expecting me and you," he added for emphasis.

"We're both way too close on this one McCormick, I agree with Frank, we need to let him and his team handle this."

Mark nodded no, "That's not the superhero I know talking, I don't get you Judge, you and I can do this."

"Yeah, we probably could, but we're not doing it for exactly the reason you think we should. And that's because we both want Christy out of there alive. Trust me on this one kiddo, have I ever let you down?"

Mark looked to both his friends and nodded his agreement.

OOOOO

They moved down 76th Street, surrounding the house quietly and cautiously. Through special infra-red tracking devices, the DEA and LA police tactical team confirmed that there were two men in the house holding Christy hostage. They even knew exactly where they were located inside the house.

The house had a side door that was boarded up, but the tactical unit had confirmed with a battering ram they could easily have the door busted wide open and the take-down team could enter and capture the two hostage takers with minimal resistance as the element of surprise would be in their favor.

The plan was a go and was scheduled to begin in the next fifteen minutes.

Inside the house, the mood was tense. "What time did you tell them you'd call them back?"

"I didn't give them a time, I just said it would be later."

Christy sat off to the side, trying to figure out a way to get herself out of this. They hadn't even bothered to tie up her hands or legs, so if she could somehow figure out how to get away from them when they weren't paying attention or looking, she might be able to simply run away.

"I think you should call them and set it up for tomorrow at 10am," the first man continued.

"Why 10am?"

"Why not?" their belligerence in each other was setting in. Christy was beginning to sense a way out. She'd try to get them mad at one another. She stopped thinking about them for a moment and realized she was thinking like Mark and Milt. This was unbelievable.

"Fine I'll set it up," the second man said and began to exit the house in order to find a working phone.

"We got someone coming out," one of the DEA agents said over the earpiece. "Looks like one of our boys," he smiled and added, "Standby to take him down and then let's get ready to move in pronto."

The tactical team moved in on the man who had exited the house and quickly hauled him out of the area. There was no other movement that came from the house, so the next set of officers prepared to ram in the side door and end the crisis once and for all. The plan was flawless and they easily captured the other man by surprise and Christy was brought out unharmed any further. The officers led her out of the dingy house and Mark came running toward her in an all out sprint.

She was walking out under her own power and as Mark got closer to her he saw that the side of her face showed signs of having been hit. She walked right toward him and opened her arms to hug him and he did the same. They stayed that way for few minutes, neither one of them saying anything to one another just locked into each other's warm embrace. Hardcastle approached them both, but hung back in the near vicinity, allowing them to have this moment alone.

Finally Mark pulled back a little, "You okay?" he asked gently.

"Yeah, I'll be fine, mostly just scared," she said. "I just can't seem to stop shaking."

"I know the feeling," Mark nodded full of fear himself and he admitted, "I was so scared too. Did they, did they hurt you?" Mark was afraid to even ask her.

"One of them slapped me in the face, that's all though," Christy explained, some tears started to form in her eyes. "Everything happened so quick, how did you know what was happening?"

Mark reached up and brushed her tears away and brought her into another hug, "You're sure that's all they did?" Mark looked at her face closely, looking for any sign of injury. He noticed the mark on her face. She nodded at him while he looked her over. Then he pulled her back into another embrace.

Milt now decided to come closer. Christy saw him out of the corner of his eye and reached out her hand to his. "I'm okay Milt," she sort of had a teary-sounding laugh. He knew she must have been terrified. He latched on to her hand and gave it a squeeze and added a smile. "You two didn't waste any time did you?" she added, straightening up from Mark's bear hug.

"Well, rescuing pretty girls from the bad guys is what we do best," Milt added.

Mark listened to him and just shook his head, still having a hard time believing all that had transpired, and now Hardcastle was trying to lighten the tense mood. It was all too typical, yet utterly nerve-wracking at the same time. Christy moved to give Milt a hug. "I take it this had something to do with James and the Youth Center?"

Mark kept a hand on her back, "We don't have all the pieces of the puzzle quite yet, but yeah, you're on the right track with that thinking."

"And they connected me to you guys how?" she asked, stepping back and holding each one of their hands.

"This morning at the gas station, they were staking it out, near as we can tell," the Judge answered. "They saw the two of you there and decided to come after you to get to us."

Frank stepped over to where they stood, "Milt, those two goons were the 'associates,' just like you thought, we're putting an APB out on Curtis Giles right now. Those two are singing like a regular pair of song bird's right already. I'm gonna need you three to come down to the station and make your statements."

"We'll be down later Frank," the Judge said. "Thanks for your help.

"I'm taking her to the hospital to get checked out," Mark said announced to Milt.

"Mark, I don't need a hospital, all he did was slap me in the face. I just need an icepack and to sit down for awhile somewhere and stop my heart from beating out of my chest."

McCormick wasn't satisfied, "I still want a doctor to give you a check-up."

Christy glanced over to Milt for some support. "I'm fine, I just want to go home, please?"

"You're sure they didn't hurt you Christy?" Hardcastle asked her.

"I'm positive, I just want to go home and relax and try to forget this ever happened."

Hardcastle nodded and pointed his finger at her for emphasis "Now you're cooking, I think we should all do that."

OOOOO

Milt was sitting outside by the pool when Mark stepped out of the house and took a seat on one of the patio chairs. "She finally fell asleep. I wish you would have let me take her to the hospital," McCormick said, his voice weary with concern. "She should have gotten checked out, just to make sure she was all right."

"She said she was fine McCormick, just shaken up and that's more than understandable. Last time I checked, the ER didn't treat face slaps." That remark got him a steely glare from Mark. "You really do love her huh?" Hardcastle said with a smile, not meaning to get the kid worked up again.

The glare turned into more of ticked off smirk. "Whatta ya think Hardcase?" he sharply answered. Then he added, "Not that it's going to go any farther than that now."

"You know you have a bad habit of thinking the worst all the time."

"Judge, there's no woman in her right mind that would get involved with me knowing the kind of trouble I keep getting into."

"What are you talking about, you're less than a year away from becoming a practicing attorney. That's a man with a solid future, not a speck of trouble in that."

"Until you corral me into one of your 'look at this contract McCormick, do you see anything wrong in there' schemes and we end up in the midst of a federal drug bust that includes a murder and a kidnapping," his voice rose exponentially as he finished the sentence. "It's been like this for four years now. And I don't see it ever changing. I'm surprised she didn't jump into her car, and catch the nearest plane out of here two hours ago."

"But we both made a promise, remember?" Milt pointed out.

"Yeah, and we both broke it remember?" He looked at the pool, "I'm not blaming you, I could have said no all along. You've always given me the choice. When it's just the two of us, it's not so bad, but now, with her," he blew out a deep sigh, "I can't keep running around like this. It's not good for you or me. I felt the same way I did when I thought you were going to die, the way I did today and I don't like feeling like that. We need to stop this stuff. I guess I didn't see that this would put a life-long crimp in my love life, until I finally had a love life. Now it's just too late."

"You're jumping to conclusions. You've both been through an ordeal here, give it some time."

McCormick let out a deep sigh, he knew the Judge had heard every word of his heartfelt statement but there was no need to press him on right now. "If you're gonna be here for awhile, I'm gonna head downtown and give Frank my statement. I need to get away for a little bit, if that's okay with you?"

"Sure, I'll be here, I won't go anywhere, she'll be fine."

McCormick stood up from the deck chair, "And don't let Christy cook your dinner for a change, I'll order us up some pizza when I come back."

OOOOO

"That is one tough kid," Frank said to McCormick, as they both watch Devin deny anything and everything through the two way glass. "The two associates gave him up in a heartbeat for causing Ashe's heart attack. They said that Devin and Giles teamed up and acted like they were going to torture him, must have damn near scared him into having the attack, then they took his car and drove into the fire hydrant to make it look like an accident."

"I knew something was up when I saw Devin sporting a pretty ugly looking bruise on his face the day James was missing from the center, but I had no idea he was this deep into something." McCormick watched Devin sit like some sort of statue, either refusing to answer or denying any knowledge of anything. "He's looking at first degree murder," Mark said somberly, "That kid doesn't have a clue what's in store for him."

Frank nodded. "He's been working for Giles for about the last six months from what we could tell."

"That's right after his friend got killed in that drug bust. I guess he did pick the wrong side then. What a waste!" Mark said sadly. "He could have really had a good future. What makes a kid do that?"

"All sorts of complications Mark, that's what," Frank said as he led him out of the room and back into his office and tossed a file at him. "The associates have names, Thomas Silva and Russell McNally. Giles was just working his way up the ladder. He was basically the front man for their scheme. You guys really stepped into a big operation here though. These two ran the same scam in Chicago and Dallas. The fed's shut them all down this afternoon. I think you and Milt will get Federal citations of merit for this, the DEA is doing cartwheels for putting the nails in this one."

Mark tossed the file back at Frank. "I'm not interested in any citation."

"Hey, not too many people get a pat on the back from Uncle Sam, you should be honored. That was a helluva thing you two did, saved a lot of kids from this sort of riff-raff," Frank reasoned.

"It cost me a lot more than I got."

OOOOO

Christy woke up about an hour later. She walked through the silent house and she noticed Milt sitting outside by the pool, armed with a familiar manila folder. She shook her head and thought how he was never going to change. And Mark would continue to be right along side of him. What really was bothering her was how she was beginning to think jut like them too.

She walked outside and said hello to him. He set the folder off to the side. "I thought you'd sleep for at least three, four hours," he said. "You feeling any better?"

She nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear, "Much better, thank you. Where's Mark, I didn't see him in the house?"

"He's down at the police station giving Frank his statement. He thought you'd be sleeping for awhile too. I think he needed to find something to do, to calm himself down. He was really worried about you."

"There's a lot of that going around," she tried to smile. "I suppose I need to go down there too, and identify those two huh?"

"Yeah, but Frank understands, you can do it when you're ready. They're not going anywhere, trust me."

"You two really like doing this?" she asked, glancing at the file first and then at him.

"We like the end result, putting bad guys away where they belong," he shrugged, "Sometimes getting from point a to the end result takes some getting used to," he said honestly. She put her head down and he continued on, surprising her with what he was about to say. "I know I promised you that he and I would stop and I want you to know that I intend to keep that promise. I should have been doing that all along and I want to apologize for that."

As he spoke, her head popped back up and a smile came over her. "You'd really do that?"

He cleared his throat. "Of course I will. You two should know you're not the only ones who can care about someone."

She got up and went over to him and gave him a kiss on his cheek. "So what's with the file?" She glanced down at the folder he had set off to the side.

"It's not another case if that's what you're thinking. But it's something I've been thinking about for the last couple of weeks."

"Oh yeah, what's that? A new career?"

"Well, you gotta assure me you're not going to say anything to McCormick just yet?" She held up her hand to indicate his secret was safe. "What would you think if I told you I was thinking about taking over as director of the Youth Center?"

Her face was full of delighted surprise. "I think that's a wonderful idea. It's absolutely perfect."

"Well, these kids today are quite a bit different than what I'm used to," he tried to be a little negative. "I might need some help from time to time."

"Oh nonsense, they'd love you and you have so much to share with them," Christy's excitement couldn't be contained.

Just as suddenly, he dropped the topic and moved on to a new one. "What about you and McCormick? He seems to think you're going to walk out on him because of everything that happened today."

She wasn't quite prepared for this change in the conversation and yet it didn't seem entirely out of place that Milt asked her directly. He did everything that way. Mark and Milt's concern for each other was obvious to most people, even though they bantered at each other and teased each other unmercifully. "It's complicated Milt," was her simple reply.

"Then you should un-complicate it," he shot back.

She wanted to laugh at his parental protectiveness. "I wish it was that easy."

"You know your Mom and Dad could do that, un-complicate things. They had some tough situations in their marriage and they always managed to get down to the basics and work things out. Like before they even got engaged, your Dad got his draft notice. Your Mom, she was scared and she wanted to wait, didn't even want to be engaged at first. She was afraid she'd lose him in the war. But your Dad, he had the ring all picked out even before he knew he was going to be drafted, only he worried that she didn't love him like he loved her." He paused to laugh at the memory. "They both hemmed and hawed for a couple of months, till right before he was supposed to go to Boot Camp. Then they finally sat down and talked about it. And he gave her the ring right then and there. Two days later they got married. And one of their promises that they made to one another on their wedding day was to always talk about their 'complications' right off and they did from then on. They had one heck of a marriage too," Hardcastle said and then he added, "You know if you keep waiting for something really bad to happen, you're going to miss out on something really, really good." She listened carefully as he shared the memory of her parents with her. Then he added his own bit of fatherly concern for McCormick, "Don't let me be the one to break you two up. I don't know anyone finer than Mark, he's overcome a lot. He'll always be there for you Christy. Give him another chance."

She stood up again and went over to him and leaned down to give him a hug and whispered into his ear. "Next to my parents, you're the wisest person I know."

Hardcastle still wasn't convinced of what the outcome would be.

OOOOO

The pizza that night was a rather quiet, strained affair. Superficial and unimportant topics were covered, and even the usual snappy banter between the three of them wasn't even showing up. Christy got up and offered to clean up the few dishes that had been used and wouldn't allow any arguments or discussion or even an offer of help. Neither Milt nor Mark was about to disagree with her either, after what they had all been through earlier in the day. Neither of them were about to mess with a woman who'd been through what she had. After she went into the kitchen, Mark told Hardcastle that he was going down to the beach.

Milt watched them both go in opposite directions and could only wonder why they had such a hard time un-complicating their differences.

About a half hour later Christy walked into the den and asked where Mark had gone.

"He said he was going down to the beach," the Judge replied.

"Did he say if he wanted company?" she asked.

"No, but he didn't say he didn't either," Milt tossed up.

OOOOO

She saw him off in the distance, sitting in the sand, knees up under his chin and she began to walk toward him. When she got closer to him, he turned and saw her and gave her a smile.

"I was hoping you'd come down here," he admitted.

She sat down beside him, "I think it's time we un-complicate things," she began.

He looked at her with some hesitation. "Is this gonna be good or bad?"

"Depends," she said, leaning against him. He slipped his arm around her and drew her even closer and placed a tender kiss on the top of her head.

OOOOO

It was several months later. McCormick entered the comfortable den. Even though he'd been in and out of it hundreds of times in the past four plus years, there was something that felt strange about heading down the couple of stairs this particular time. Nothing really was different, the layout was exactly the same as it had always been, all the furniture was the same, even Hardcastle sitting contently in one of the leather chairs, watching a movie, was all too familiar. He sort of scanned around and just thought of it as his home, the first real one he'd known in almost his whole life, at least since his mother had died. But it wasn't the furniture or the décor that made him feel that way, it was the gray-haired donkey sitting in the comfortable leather chair that took care of giving him some roots and made him feel like family, like all this was really his too. Neither one of them ever really spoke about it, that Father-Son connection, and it had only rarely come up, each time usually by someone other that either of them. But they'd been through enough to both know it was there and that was comfort for both of them when they needed it to be.

Milt briefly glanced up from whatever it was he was watching, something that looked to have Joel McCrea in it. It was an old movie of some sort, because it was in black and white. Hardcastle didn't give him the time of day, rather turning his attention back to the movie.

McCormick came in and headed toward the twin chair across from him, but before he sat down, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny, jeweler's box and set it on Milt's knee, just as he was going to sit down.

The Judge felt the light weight of the box and quickly looked to see what it was, before then turning his attention to Mark. "Aren't you giving this to the wrong person?" He already knew what it was.

McCormick raised his eyebrows and just gave a slight nod.

"You want me to look at it first? Is that it? Give you my okay? What? Is something wrong with it? Do I need to go talk to Maury? I told him a couple of weeks ago to make sure you got something nice."

"Would you just open it up and take a look?" Mark finally interrupted him.

Milt plucked the box off his knee and slowly opened it up to see the ring. The diamond setting was exquisite.

"Hey, kiddo, she's going to love this," the Judge s raved as he admired it. "This must have set you back, how'd you manage to afford something like this?"

McCormick shook his head and smiled. "You worry about the dumbest stuff Judge," he paused and added, "I took a loan out. I guess after a few years being removed from prison and parole plus years of paying bills and having this retired jurist looking out for you, well, the bank figured I was an okay risk, and I had some money saved for the down payment, so it's not like I'll be 95 when it's paid off."

"I'm just thinking if you need help or something, I could," the Judge began, but Mark cut him off.

"Nope, school is one thing, this, is something entirely different. This is something I need to do on my own," he paused, "But thank you for the offer."

Milt dropped it right then and there. There was something off with McCormick, something missing. He wasn't his usual, smart-alecy, fun-loving self. "So what's the problem here then, the ring is beautiful, you've got the payment plan all mapped out," he took a breath and asked, "You're having second thoughts maybe?"

"Not exactly," was Mark's quick but uninformative answer.

"Listen kiddo, either say something or let me get back to the movie?"

Mark put his head down and took a deep breath of his own. "Judge, I know that you don't like me prying into your past, but I'm wondering if I could ask you something about it." There he'd said it.

"You can always ask," the Judge said.

"Yeah, I get it, you might not answer," McCormick said, looking into his friend's eyes. "All right, here's the deal, I know where you asked Nancy to marry you, but how'd you ask her?" He scrunched his face and narrowed his eyes waiting for the fallout to be told it was none of his business or that he couldn't recall after all these years.

That got a laugh from the Judge. "That's what this is about, you don't know how to ask Christy?"

McCormick couldn't even answer, he just had a goofy look on his face.

"You just ask, you just say the words, 'Christy, will you marry me.'"

"I figured you went with the standard, direct approach, but that's not exactly what I mean. It's just every time I think about it, I draw a blank. Does that mean I shouldn't ask her? I mean, maybe it's not the right time. Is that second thoughts?"

"It's never going to be perfect Mark, it is what it is, but the beauty of when you do ask her, is that it's right for the two of you," the Judge explained.

McCormick blew out a long breath, "It's just nerve racking, why is this on the guy?"

"Because that's how life works. Let me tell you, it's really not that bad, once you make up your mind. Chances are she'll sort of know or lead you through it anyway."

Mark looked at him suspiciously. "Are you going to tell me that Nancy asked you?"

Hardcastle let out a chortle, "No, Nancy didn't ask me." He stopped talking and started thinking of that moment. "I'm not sure you want to hear about me and Nancy," Milt smiled warmly, obviously remembering his own experience.

"Yeah, I would, if you don't mind, and I don't mean to pry, I'm just curious you know, looking for an idea."

"Oh, I don't mind telling you, but I'm sure it'll sound fairly pre-historic to you, we did things a lot differently back in my day though."

"Try me," McCormick said, finally managing to relax a little and sit back in the chair.

Milt lifted up the box again and gazed at the ring and slowly began to reminisce. "We met just after I got back from the war, I think about 1946. Boy, it was a different time then, the whole mood of the country was different. People were happy. It almost seemed like a fantasy, especially for those of us who had fought overseas." He looked over to Mark. "Ah, you don't want to hear that, you want to know about the night I asked my wife to marry me," he quickly left that memory and started thinking about the next. "These rings really can set you back, but you really want it to be special, don't you?"

"Yeah," McCormick said in a low voice, knowing that he just needed to give Hardcastle a few moments to remember and then he'd begin to tell his story.

"Maury's dad helped me pick out the one for Nancy. Cost me damn near six months of my cop salary when it was all said and done," he paused, "but it was worth every penny. She loved it. Back then, there was this place in town, right on the water, it was a supper club, Jimmy's Supper Club. They used to get all the big bands to come in there and play. Nancy, she loved Tommy Dorsey."

McCormick smiled, "Yeah, guys and their trombones, no wonder she said yes," he teased.

Hardcastle disregarded the comment, internally he was pleased to know that the kid knew something about Big Bands. Tommy Dorsey was the trombone player. His brother Jimmy played the trumpet. "I actually had to buy another guy's dinner reservation to get us in to that place for that evening. It was six months to the day after we had met."

McCormick was impressed by Milt's obvious sentimentality. "You scalped dinner reservations?"

The Judge nodded. "I even rented a tux for that night, brought her a big bouquet of flowers, heck, I would have even done the chocolates, but she never cared for them."

"So you asked her when, before or after dinner?"

"Are you going to let me tell you or not?"

McCormick chuckled, "sorry," he said.

"Everything was perfect, I looked dapper," he said, allowing himself a moment of self-compliment before he continued on, "She looked gorgeous, she had on some green dress I had never seen before, but I sure wanted to see it a lot after."

McCormick sat there listening with great interest. He was impressed that Milt recalled so many vivid details. Not only was this useful to what he was about to do, but it was also heartwarming for him to hear about Hardcastle's former life, something he rarely shared. As he listened he could see in every part of the Judge, just how much he had loved Nancy, as his eyes sparkled and even his body language showed how much he cared for her.

'That afternoon I washed my car, gave it wax, cleaned up the interior, it was looking sharp. I was driving a brand new '46 Chevy back then that was a car and a half back in those days. I actually wanted to get an Olds, but I couldn't swing the price," he said, figuring the kid would be interested in the car conversation. "Keeping busy on that afternoon was more self serving to me, then I didn't have to dwell on what the evening held."

"I can't picture you being a nervous wreck Hardcase," Mark interjected.

"Look who's talking," Hardcastle fired back. "I just think that's part of being human. It's a big step to take. I think it's safe to say every guy who's ever asked a woman to marry him feels the same way. It's like a rite of passage. We all gotta go through it."

McCormick nodded, "Doing this, heck, just thinking of doing this, it's so permanent, maybe that's why."

"Maybe," Hardcastle thought. "I tell you when I picked her up that night, I thought my heart was going to beat so fast that I'd never be able to slow it down."

"Did you go up to the door to get her?" Mark teased.

"Of course I did, then I went and said hello to her parents, let them know that we were going to Jimmy's. I think they knew what I was up to. There were lots of smiles and winks all the way around. Then we left for the supper club, had a great dinner. Nancy, she had a great way of just staying calm and relaxed. I mean, she probably had it dialed in too, as to what I was up to. But all during dinner, we talked and laughed and had a real nice time. I remember she told me a great story about Dee Dee and we both laughed so much that she almost choked."

"It sounds great, so how did you ask her though?" McCormick wondered.

"I'm gettin' there McCormick, boy you need some patience. See one of the reasons I took her to Jimmy's was Tommy Dorsey. Nance, she loved to dance. Me, I had two left feet, but you know that day was all about her. It was all about doing things she wanted, giving her everything, sort of like a prelude to the future, trying to make everything perfect. You do that when you love someone, everything's for them. After we ate, I saw her eyeing up the dance floor, so I asked her if she'd like to dance. Of course she said yes and as we headed out there, I stood up and had the ring in my pant pocket."

"You asked her on the actual dance floor? But…." Mark asked but was interrupted.

"No, I didn't ask here on the dance floor wise guy. I wanted to, but it didn't quite work out that way, but listen, I'm telling the story here. When you get ready to do this, well, don't put anything in the pants pocket. We started dancing and the box," he held up McCormick's ring, in the tiny box, "the box wiggled its way up and it must have fallen out. By the time I realized it, I didn't know where it was."

Mark started to laugh, "You lost the engagement ring on the dance floor?"

"It's not funny and yeah I did," Milt said, thinking about the incident, then he paused and even laughed himself. "Okay, you can laugh, thinking about it now, it was pretty funny."

"What did you do?" McCormick tried to contain his laughter.

"I didn't realize it had fallen out till we went back to the table. We both sat down and I started to look, and look and look and then look some more. I spotted it clear on the other side of the dance floor and it was like one of those bad cartoons, where it was getting kicked and bounced from one person's shoe to the next."

McCormick wore an eternal grin, obviously imagining the sight in all its Technicolor glory. This was like a Busby Berkley musical.

"I politely excused myself, never telling Nancy what exactly what I was up to, hoping she just thought I was going to the bathroom, via the entire dance floor. I could feel her eyes on me the whole damn time."

"Did you finally get it?"

Hardcastle nodded, "Yeah, I got it, it survived the Newton Jitterbug."

"So you asked decided to wait, to not ask her there then, at Jimmy's?"

"Nope, by then I was not only frustrated, but then the second, third and fourth thoughts were kicking in. And Nancy wasn't helping, she was being way too nice and understanding. And she wasn't supposed to know what I was even up to."

"Then you didn't ask her that night?" Mark wondered.

"No, I did. I took her back here, home, and was just planning on saying good night and saving the big question for another day and time and she talked me into a walk on the beach and that's where it happened, and I showed you that spot before, but now you know the whole story. I worked up enough courage, blurted out the question and figured if she was willing to stick with me through something as stupid looking as all that, then I should just ask her."

"Well, my apologies, but I hope that doesn't happen to me," Mark said.

"Ah, it won't, there's no more supper clubs around here with big band music. And good luck asking her at one of those rock concerts you think is so hot, she won't be able to even hear," Hardcastle groused. "How do you think you're gonna do it?" Milt reached over and handed him the ring back.

He held it in his hand and opened it up to peer at it. He looked to Milt quickly and then down at the floor. "I don't know, but I'll come up with something."

OOOOO

He put his arm around her shoulder as they once again made their way down to beach. He'd been unusually quiet the last ten minutes or so and she by now, nearing 8:30pm was wondering what the devil was up with him. The day they'd spent together had been sensational.

Mark had insisted early on in the week that they both take the entire day off and that he had some plans of what they could spend their day doing. He reasoned that they both needed some time away from her office and the law library.

He got her up at the crack of dawn, something really out of the ordinary she thought, but as they shared the early morning breakfast with the Judge and she easily fell into their rhythmic banter and chiding they got into, she realized just how much she enjoyed both of their company.

The remainder of the day was spent with them partaking in different activities that she loved doing and Mark seemed to enjoy them as much as she did.

They stopped back at Gull's Way, to clean up and change and they went out for a nice, relaxing dinner. And now they were back in their comfortable surroundings and her curiosity was peaking.

"Do you want to tell me exactly what is going on today?" Christy began, by sliding her own arm around his waist and hooking it comfortably around his stomach.

"Whatta ya mean?" Mark questioned.

"Oh please, you do realize that you had a Karen Carpenter tape in the Coyote that you played during the ride home. Something is definitely going on, you're up to something. I'm just not sure what."

"I sort of felt like hearing her sing, maybe you're rubbing off on me," he explained, giving her a smile.

She wasn't satisfied with his explanation. "Well, than what about getting up at the crack of dawn this morning? You've complained about that for years. Why did we do that?"

"I told you I wanted to spend the whole day with you," he said.

Christy smiled as she remembered the morning conversation. Milt had finally told Mark that he was going to be the Interim Director of the new and improved, appropriately renamed, James Ashe Youth Center. The look of utter amazement on Mark's face was priceless. And even his biting attempt to knock Milt down a peg or two didn't diminish the respect and love he demonstrated for his friend. Their bickering was how they showed they cared. And this morning's breakfast was a perfect example.

"I think Milt will make a great director at the Youth Center."

Mark nodded, "He's just what those kids need, no doubt about that."

She cleared her throat and said, "It's been a perfect day Mark, everything we've done has been so special. I'll never forget any of it."

He stopped her from walking and reached into his suit coat pocket, cleverly remembering about his not keeping it in his pants and pulled out the jeweler's box and let out a deep breath as he looked down as he held it momentarily in his hand. "I'm glad you thought it was perfect, but it's not over yet, I want to give you this," he let go of her hand and opened the box, revealing the engagement ring. He took a deep breath and mustered up the courage and the most charming smile he could and asked, "Christy Miller, will you marry me?" He held it for her to see and looked her directly in the eyes. She could see just how nervous he was, but that he also was exceedingly happy.

"Yes," was her first and only word for a long, wonderful, magical moment, "I will marry you," she followed it up with her own long-lasting smile.

He cautiously took the ring out of the box and nearly dropped it in the sand, but managed to save it in the nick of time to slide it on to her waiting finger. They both stared at it for a moment and Christy added, "It's beautiful Mark, totally perfect. I'm so happy."

He leaned in slowly and pressed his lips against hers, both of them completely lost in the moment. He pulled back and said quietly, "I love you so much."

She closed her eyes and pressed her body against his. He held her closely and she whispered, "I love you too."

Standing at the top of the cliff was Milt, he saw the two of them off in the distance and knew exactly what McCormick was up to. From the embrace they were locked in, he also could figure out what Christy's answer was. Under his breath he said, "Now you're both cookin'."

Back on the beach Christy pulled away and lifted up her hand, which was entwined with Mark's and they both gazed at the ring. "You really like it?" he asked.

"I love it and I love you," she replied diving in to put another kiss on his lips.

"Whew, that wasn't so hard, I've been practicing for weeks," he said when she released him.

"We should go tell the Judge," she suggested, putting her hand on the back of his head to keep him close, and couldn't keep herself from giving him another kiss.

He scanned the top of the cliff and spotted Milt looking down. "He already knows," he nodded to the solitary figure standing atop the lookout. Christy turned and saw him. "Crazy old donkey," he added, sending up a wave to him. Christy added one too. Milt waved down to them as well.

"Well, we can tell him my answer then," Christy said.

Mark gave her a grin, "Now you're cookin'."