Francine entered her apartment that evening and walked straight to the phone to order the pizza for dinner as she'd promised, half and half, grilled chicken and pineapple for her, pepperoni and mushrooms for him. When she completed her call, she made her way to her bedroom to get ready for her date's arrival.

She smiled as she stripped out of her work clothes and into a well broken-in pair of jeans and a light pullover. Beaman had insisted that unless they were going someplace fancy, she continue to dress casually. When she'd balked at that, he'd explained that he wanted her to be comfortable and that she didn't have to dress like a supermodel in designer clothes to impress him. She had to admit, even if only to herself, that she was really starting to like it. It was refreshing to be with a man who didn't expect her to be the perfect fashion plate all the time.

She thought back to their first date and how she's compared him to Andrew McCarthy's character and herself to Kim Cattrall's in Mannequin and found that she couldn't have come up with a more accurate depiction of the two of them. She was always trying to be what everyone else wanted her to be and had been that way since childhood when she had attempted to live up to what her mother's proper expectation of a "lady" was. That is, until that fateful day that she'd veered off-course from her mother's plan for her, and changed her class schedule at Sarah Lawrence drastically from the general liberal arts degree that they'd so meticulously planned together. She snorted as she reflected on that.

She entered her kitchen to open the bottle of wine she'd planned to have with their pizza. As she poured two glasses, she recalled that the only thing that her mother's plans for her would have been good for was getting her the "MRS" degree as many of her classmates had called it. Had she followed her mother's meticulously plotted path, she would now have a useless education and be nothing more than a trophy wife to a rich husband. Boy, had they gone round and round over that decision.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. For the first time, she was anticipating this date without being nervous about it. She looked forward just to spending time with him and now that they'd gotten past the third date with no expectations on either side, she wondered how things might progress going forward. She eagerly hurried to the living room, set the wine glasses down on the coffee table and opened the door to find him standing there dressed in a similar fashion to her own attire.

"Come on in." She beamed at him as she opened the door wide enough to allow him inside her private domain. This was the first time in a long time that she'd agreed to a date at her place...with anyone. The last time was with... She shook her head. No, don't go there, she scolded herself. That had been five years ago and was long over. As soon as she closed the door, she greeted Beaman with a long, lingering kiss. When it ended, she flushed slightly and whispered, "Hi."

He smiled warmly at her and responded, "Hi," as he slipped one arm around her waist.

"So, what's in the bag?" She nodded to his other hand. "I thought you were just bringing the Heavy Metal Parking Lot video."

"Oh, I did bring it," he assured her. "But it's less than twenty minutes long, so I brought another one too. I mean, you want our date to last longer than twenty minutes, right?"

"You'd be surprised how many 'dates' I've had that were shorter than that," she quipped.

"Well, that's one thing you'll never have to worry about with me," he fired back with a smile, but Francine couldn't help noticing the shadow that crossed his face at her crack.

She decided to change the subject to cover the awkwardness she now felt at her thoughtless comment. "So, what else did you bring?"

"It's a surprise." He reached into the bag. "This one first." He held up the promised video.

"Well, if it's as short as you say, it'll be just the right length to wait for our dinner to get here."

"That was the plan," he affirmed as he led her to the sofa and then got the video started before he sat beside her and placed the bag he'd brought with him on the floor in front of his side of the couch.

"So, you're really not going to tell me what else you brought?" she pouted.

He shook his head. "Nope."

"Not even a hint?"

"Mm-mm."

"Well, then I'll just have to find out for myself, won't I?" She reached across him for the bag, but he snatched it first and pushed it further away from her.

"Come on, I'm a spy! You know you can't keep secrets from me." She lunged for it and as they both grappled for the bag, she soon found herself lying atop him, both of them breathing heavily. He reached for her, pulling her down to him for another kiss, this one more passionate than any they'd shared previously. She ran her fingers through his thick hair, reveling in feeling of it in her hands, his lips on hers... As things began to grow more heated, the moment was interrupted by the blaring guitar riffs of Judas Priest.

"The...uh...the video," he panted as he gently pushed her away from him and sat up.

"Right...the video," she responded as she tried not to let the disappointment she felt show in her tone.

As they watched the rockumentary and laughed at the craziness on it, Beaman suddenly cried out, "Hey, was that you?"

"What?" She gaped at him with a startled expression. "Where?"

He reached for the remote and rewound the tape just a bit and then paused it. "That's it! Right there!" He looked at her awe-struck. "It's just for a tiny second, but that's definitely you."

"How can you tell? It's so blurry, you can barely see anything." She grabbed the remote from him and played it. "Besides the scene is gone so fast, you can barely make out anything. That could be any blonde woman."

He laughed uproariously. "You did say you were there," he reminded her with a shake of his head and then added, "Who'd have ever thought it? Francine Desmond, the definition of decorum and professionalism, tailgating at a Judas Priest concert."

"You can't prove that's me," she argued.

"No, but I bet if I worked with the A/V guys at the office and did some computer enhancements, I could," he teased.

"You wouldn't dare!"

He shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not." A thought occurred to him then, "Oh, that reminds me, you never did tell me what happened with Roxanne."

"Oh, right! You'll love this one," she promised. She related how she and Amanda had tag-teamed his former flame while the video played and they laughed together about it.

He reciprocated by telling her that Lee had accosted him after his morning class. "You should have seen him, all bluster and swagger, making all these threats as if he could intimidate me."

"So, what'd you do?"

"I just gently reminded him that I'm a computer expert and that certain activities leave a paper trail, no matter how hard you try to keep them hidden. I don't think he'll be spilling his guts any time soon."

"I bet not," she laughed as she imagined the scared little boy look that must have been on Lee's face.

When the video ended, Francine clicked it off and questioned, "So, now are you going to tell me what's in the bag?"

He nodded as he reached for it and pulled out the contents, a plastic videocassette case used for storing homemade videos. When she looked at him strangely, he told her, "Look at the label."

"Mannequin?" She squealed in delight. "How'd you manage to get your hands on this when the movie's still playing in theatres?"

"I told you I have my own connections," he reminded her. "That's for you...a gift."

"Really? This is amazing." She leaned toward him to give him a kiss when her phone rang. She let out a sigh just as there was also a knock on the door. "That's probably the pizza. Would you mind getting that so I can get the phone?"

He nodded and headed to the door, making idle chit-chat with the pizza delivery guy while Francine chatted on the phone, though from what he heard, she was doing more listening than talking.

Beaman closed the door just as Francine hung up the phone with a sorrowful, "Thanks for letting me know, Billy."

He looked at her in concern when he saw the worried expression on her face. "What is it?"

"Nathaniel Brody escaped from prison," she answered as she sank down on the sofa and buried her face in her hands. While she'd immensely enjoyed relaxing with Beaman on her weekend off and had tried for once to forget about work during that time, it was clear that they were now back on the job and the fun was over.