Well, the boys and Daisy have been in the past for exactly four months now...from their point of view. Fortunately, they've only been missing a couple of weeks, in their own time. The boys and Daisy have been carefully avoiding other Dukes and their closest friends in the future. Matter of fact, ole Rosco and Cooter are the only people they know real well in both times and Cooter is just a kid. Hazzard's a small place though and their luck's bound to run out sooner or later.

The three Dukes were currently walking down the street with Rosco, who was still in uniform, despite being off duty. They were all headed to the pool hall to play a few games and have some fun. They were about halfway between the sheriff's station and the pool hall, when Rosco stopped, peering sharply down a small side street.

"LUKE DUKE!" Rosco shouted suddenly, making all three of the Dukes jump and go wide-eyed. Rosco looked at Tom and gave a small laugh, clapping his friend warmly on the shoulder.

"Sorry, Tom, I didn't mean to startle ya. Just a sec. Luke Duke, you get down from there, before you fall and bust your head open!"

The Dukes turned and finally spotted what Rosco had. A young boy of about six was clinging to a ladder attached to the backside of the local theater. The boy had dark hair and bright blue eyes. He wore denim coveralls and a blue t-shirt. Luke swallowed, recognizing himself from old photographs and distant memories.

"Who's yelling at me?" the boy asked, dropping down from the ladder and coming out onto the sidewalk. Seeing Rosco, he gave sighed. "Oh, it's you."

"Yeah, it's me," Rosco agreed.

"Hey, now, show a little respect," older Luke urged, embarrassed.

"No 'fense!" little Luke protested, shrugging. "I mean, I know yer law and all, but can't ya wait til I'm grown to start in on me?"

"Why? What are you planning to do, that you think'll need my attention?" Rosco asked, amused.

"Nothing!" Luke answered, rolling his eyes.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that. What were you doing on that ladder?"

"Climbing it," Luke answered casually. "No law against that is there?"

"Probably. That ladder is for people doing repairs and work. It ain't for young fellas having adventures."

"Anyone who wants can be in the theater. Why's the ladder dif'rent?" Luke asked indignantly.

"Well, like I said, you could fall and get hurt. It's my job to keep you from doing that."

"My daddy and uncles say lawmen just help the gov'ment keep people down."

"Well, I certainly intend to keep you down off that ladder," Rosco agreed dryly.

"It's a vile-ation of m'rights," the boy sulked. "Don't it bother you bein' a presser of the people?"

"Nah. I don't sleep real well, if I ain't pressed at least a few people a day," Rosco said, hiding his smile. "I'm a rotten fella."

"Well, you ought'nt brag about it!" little Luke exclaimed, shocked.

"No, I probably ought'nt," Rosco agreed, easily. "Where's yer folks?"

"Going to the bathroom. Daddy bought everyone soda pops."

"Luke! What are you doing out here?" a new voice asked.

Luke turned and his heart ached. His father stood there, alive and well, his eyes twinkling with amusement, in a stern face. Little Luke grinned up at him.

"Hey, Daddy."

"Everything all right?" Ethan Duke asked, glancing warily at Rosco, who shrugged.

"Sure. Your boy stepped out for some fresh air, so I figured I'd keep him company, til you caught up with him."

"That's kind," Ethan admitted, somewhat reluctantly. "Thank you, Sheriff."

"You're welcome. You and the boy might remember that I'm sheriff of Hazzard, not Nottingham," Rosco pointed out. "Y'all have a good night. Be good, Luke."

"I am," Luke assured him.

"G'night. Y'all have a good evening," the other Dukes chimed in, before following after Rosco, who was strolling away.

"Hey, Rosco," Luke said. "You don't treat lettin' people think you're rotten, same as you do lettin' people think you're dumb, do you?"

"I suppose so," Rosco said, shrugging, then laughed. "I'll make an exception for little kids, though."

"I can't believe he talked to you like that!" Daisy admitted.

"The Dukes have a little piece of land and do some farming, but most of their money comes from moonshine. I don't know 'em well, but from what I've seen they have a lotta respect for morality and almost none for actual law."

"Not all lawmen combine those as much as you do," Bo suggested, hesitantly.

Rosco stopped and turned, just outside the pool hall. He gave his friends a slight smile, that only made his expression more serious.

"Don't be setting me on any pedestal. There isn't a lawman ever existed or will exist who doesn't compromise in some way, at some time, especially a sheriff. We've all got feet of clay. Comes from being human," Rosco advised them.

"Well, Rosco, as your friend, I gotta tell ya something," Bo said solemnly. He then grinned his brightest smile. "I'm glad to hear you can compromise, because you're about as stubborn as an old mule!"

Rosco stared hard at Bo for a moment, before giving a snort of laughter. He reached out, pulled open the pool house door, and pointed sternly inside.

"Get in there!" he ordered. Bo obeyed and Rosco smirked, shaking his head. "Ain't like you got any room to talk."

Luke followed Bo inside, but Daisy stopped beside Rosco and placed her arm around his waist, giving him a brief hug.

"C'mon, sugar. You've been picked on enough for one night."

"That's all right. I'll get even at the pool table," Rosco assured her, his smile becoming softer.

Well, folks, Rosco's done being picked on for the evening. His troubles ain't quite over, though, even if he has won the first two rounds of pool. Here comes Deputy Hardgrove with some bad news.

"Sheriff, I gotta tell ya something, before I head home," Hardgrove said, trying to sound regretful.

"I'm off-duty, Deputy. Can't it wait?" Rosco asked, lining up the cue ball for Bo.

"Um. I think you'd rather hear now, sir, so you can act in the morning."

Rosco straightened up, staring hard at the other lawman.

"That doesn't sound like good news. What's happened?"

"Um. I wasn't able to arrest Lester Evans. I lost him."

Rosco walked around, until he was on the same side of the pool table as Hardgrove. Folding his arms, Rosco leaned back, so he was propped against the table by his lower back. He waited just long enough for the silence to grow uncomfortable, before speaking.

"You managed to lose an entire suspect. Well, this just ain't your day, is it, Hardgrove?" he said sardonically.

"Sheriff, I..."

"Where?"

"Where, s-um. I lost Evans on Mills Road, heading towards Carson's Creek Road. I tried arresting him at the Boar's Nest, but he managed to get in his car. I chased him, but he managed to slip by me."

"Near Carson's Creek Road," Rosco repeated, his voice tinged with disbelief.

"Yes, Sheriff. I'm not sure how he did it..."

"Neither am I. That road leads to town. Most of the turnoffs before then are onto folks' driveways. You reckon he stopped for a visit?"

"No, sir," Hardgrove disagreed, flushing a bit. "I think he went off into the woods and parked.

"Uh, huh. So, you think he abandoned his car and high-tailed it out of town? On foot?"

"Well, no, Sheriff. We all know Lester don't have any kin outside of Hazzard. He'd have no where to go," Hardgrove reminded Rosco, puzzled.

"That's right. What do you imagine he did, then, after he parked?"

"I don't know," Hardgrove replied, sullenly.

"Now you listen to me. I'd call you a dipstick, but you ain't actually this stupid! Don't interrupt me," Rosco snapped, seeing Hardgrove beginning to speak. "Hazzard ain't that big and you know folks well enough to find'em, even if they ain't right in front of you!"

"I don't know where he went. He could be anywhere!"

"Anywhere? Hardgrove, you've been friends with Lester Evans ever since second grade. You know where he lives and you know who his family and friends are...unless you've forgotten? Can anyone here remind my deputy where Lester Evans lives?" Rosco shouted towards the other tables.

"Twenty-four Cedar Point Road," a voice called out from one of the corners.

"That's right. Twenty-four Cedar Point Road. Thank you!" Rosco said. "Now, I suggest that'd be a good place for you to start looking. My next suggestion is this-don't you ever come to me and say you can't arrest someone, because you lost them! If you 'lose' someone in a car chase, it's because you damn well wanted to lose them!"

"I can't go out there at suppertime, even if he is dumb enough to go home," Hardgrove protested. "Ellie would take a shotgun to me for interrupting their meal!"

"Ellie ain't that dumb, but if I'm wrong, then you arrest her, too, for assault with a deadly weapon."

Hardgrove looked like he wanted to argue more, but a look at Rosco and the few others in the pool hall convinced him to keep quiet. The expressions on most people's faces were simply amused and a few were uncomfortable. Rosco's expression was a mix of impatience and anger. Finally, Hardgrove nodded.

"All right. I'll find him."

"Good. You can go to your supper, now, if you want. You just make sure Lester Evans is in jail by this time tomorrow."

"Yes, sir," Hardgrove agreed, turning on his heel and leaving.

Rosco watched him go, then gave a tired sigh. He turned back and took his turn, missing badly. He straightened up and gave a shaky laugh.

"Well, judas priest!" he scoffed. "Your turn, Tom."

Daisy stepped up to Rosco, leaning towards him a bit.

"You're too on edge, sugar. Why don't you come dance with me for a bit? Tom and Johnny can finish out this game."

Rosco blushed a bit, but smiled, shrugging.

"Well, I gotta warn ya-I'm a lousy dancer at the best of times," he admitted.

"Maybe we can work on that, then," Daisy said, threading her arm through his.

"All right," Rosco conceded. "That okay with you fellas?"

"Sure, go ahead!" Luke encouraged, wanting some quiet words with Bo. He was glad the place was mostly empty and they could talk without being heard. He took his shot, waiting for Daisy and Rosco to make it to the dance floor at the other end of the hall.

"I don't get it," Bo admitted.

"You heard the man. If ya lose someone in a car chase in Hazzard, you must want to lose them. Evidently, Rosco wants to lose us a lot!"

"Why chase us at all then?"

"I don't know. Because of Boss, I guess."

"He oughta arrest Boss!" Bo protested.

"I know, Bo. I'm confused about all this, too. He's gotta be a bit corrupt. We know he accepts money from Boss. Then again, as stingy as Boss is, Rosco might not actually get that much money. You know how Boss likes to charge his employees 'fees.' I doubt Rosco is any different."

"I wish we knew the whole truth. You think losing his pension really hurt him that bad?"

"Yeah-and maybe not just money-wise. Believe me, when we get home, I plan on asking him. I just hope he trusts us enough to give us some answers."

The same questions were plaguing Daisy. Her kind heart ached at the idea of getting home and finding Rosco no longer was interested in their friendship...that he no longer cared. Knowing his chasing them around was an act was a huge relief to her. She smiled warmly, when they reached the dance floor, turning and slipping an arm around Rosco's shoulders. He smiled back and wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her other hand in his.

"You aren't doing so bad," Daisy assured him, as they swayed around to the slow song playing.

"At this pace, I'm okay. You don't have to worry about me stomping on your toes, but I'm not very graceful."

"That's all right. You need things to slow down for you a bit."

"Oh, they will. It's boredom I gotta beware of, more often than not."

Daisy thought of all the car chases he'd been in with the Dukes and couldn't help smirking a bit. She shook her head in wonder. Daisy stared into Rosco's blue eyes, which were still a bit stormy, though calming. Who'd've thought ole Rosco would turn out to be such a puzzle?

"What is it?" Rosco asked.

"Hmm?"

"You look like you want to ask me somethin', but aren't quite sure how to word it."

"No," Daisy denied, shrugging lightly.

"Ah, not me. It's that fella from home I remind you of," Rosco guessed.

"You could say that, yeah," Daisy admitted, ruefully.

"Who is he?"

"Oh! Just someone we know," Daisy hedged, searching frantically for a description, but not wanting to lie, "through an uncle of ours."

"Friend? Enemy? Other?"

"Ya never can be quite sure with him," Daisy said dryly, then added hastily. "No, not an enemy. Not really."

"You're not running from him?"

"Running from him?" Daisy repeated, a tad indignant.

"Sometimes it's the innocent that end up running," Rosco explained. "If you need help, you just gotta ask."

"We would, if we knew what to ask for," Daisy said. "We aren't running away. We just...hit a patch of weather and are waiting it out."

"Fair enough."

"So serious tonight," Daisy scolded gently. "Why don't you kiss me or something?"

"That's not a less serious subject. I've outgrown kissing games. When I kiss a gal, I prefer to mean it."

"What's wrong with kissing games?"

"Nothing. They're fun, but...they make me feel lonesome, in a way. They just remind me of what I really want."

"What's that?" Daisy asked, concerned.

"A wife and family. I'm nearing thirty and I'm ready to settle down and put that kind of play behind me."

"Can't be much stopping you," Daisy prodded.

"Not much. It's just most the gals my age are kin to moon runners and I'm sheriff. It makes dinner conversation a bit awkward."

"Their daddies don't like them dating the law?" Daisy asked.

"That or their daddies think it gets them a pass to break the law."

"I'm sorry," Daisy told him softly, thinking of the older Rosco, still alone well into his forties.

Rosco shrugged. "I'll cope...and hopefully sooner or later I'll find a gal who'll support me and my work."

Impulsively, Daisy leaned forward, giving Rosco a brief, soft kiss. She'd given out similar kisses before, mainly to Enos, Cletus, and other men as distractions-kissing games of a more serious sort. Rosco did look caught off guard, for a second, but then he leaned forward and kissed her back, heatedly. She melted into him and was disappointed, when he broke away, shaking his head.

"This ain't a good idea."

"Why not?" Daisy asked, feeling faintly hurt.

"You don't plan on staying," Rosco reminded her, not unkindly.

"How do you know?" Daisy asked, entertaining for the first time the idea that their trip into the past might be permanent.

"You've never even found a proper place to live. You're taking up one third of the rooms at the Hazzard Hotel," Rosco said dryly.

"Even if we did leave for a spell," Daisy said, musing, "there's nothing to say we wouldn't come back."

"Would you?" Rosco asked soberly.

"I'm not playing games," Daisy said, earnestly.

"I know," Rosco assured her, reaching up to gently stroke his thumb across Daisy's chin, just below her lips. "I know you aren't, Cathy."

"Good," Daisy said, kissing him again firmly.

Things just keep getting more complicated. I wonder what ole Rosco's gonna think of this memory? He really isn't gonna believe the Dukes and the Earls are the same folks, without proof, now!