Blackout
by: raileht

Summary: It was over. The fight in her was almost completely out and she was nearing total exhaustion. She was about to die.
Disclaimer:
The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.
Rating: T, to be safe
Spoilers/Timeline: post-finale but I've omitted some facts and scenes to better fit the story and you'll figure out which ones I hadn't included along the way. But if you have questions, just ask.

Warning: Bad words and a lot of violence right from the start. Will be a somewhat dark story so people will be in pain—physical and emotional. Maybe not for the faint hearted.
Warning#2: Deviating a little from the usual format for one scene, I really liked how it played in my head…I'm hoping you guys will like it too.

It's possible there will be more scenes like this…because I'm crazy and inconsistent that way. My brain has schizo-like tendencies and I have at least five or six people in my brain…they hate me and my fanfic so…er, that should explain a few things. We're admitting to being partially insane, but that's it…for now.

Chapter Title taken from:
Colbie Caillat, The Little Things

-o0oo0oo0o-

Chapter Nine: The Little Things

Diane was uncomfortable.

No matter what good things she's heard about Detective De Luca, she was uncomfortable and it wasn't his fault. She'd sent Daniel out, acting more on instinct rather than thinking about her emotional response to being alone with a stranger. Logically, her mind knew this man was a respected member of the Chicago law enforcement with a stellar reputation, but emotionally and mentally, she was uncomfortable.

But she didn't show it.

Among the many things she learned from her father, one of them was to never let anyone see or feel your fear or any sort of weak emotion that could easily be used to prey on you. She'd learned that early on as a child because her father was an excellent teacher and he wanted his daughter to be tough.

It wasn't because he was pushing her to be like him or anything of the sort, rather it was his way of making sure that if ever the time came he wasn't going to be there for her anymore, he wouldn't have to worry too much about leaving her behind. Her father tended to worry about her and if she was an ungrateful brat, she'd blame it on his chauvinistic tendencies, but she knew better. He'd come from an all too different time where men protected women because it was the normal thing and Diane knew and accepted that much.

Plus—not that she'd ever admit it loudly to anyone—he liked to baby her. It annoyed her at times too, but, again, that was just her father being Daddy. And—again, she'd never admit it—she secretly liked it too…sometimes.

Her father taught her to be tough, taught her things she never would have learned in classrooms or even in law school. She was great at pretending, at bluffing, at making people see what she wanted them to see and, most of all, she was particularly great at masking emotions.

Then again, that was something her father hadn't taught her. That was something that couldn't have been taught or at least, something Diane had not learned that from anyone. Her father had been affectionate with his children, something people who only knew him professionally and never saw him with his family, would never believe to be true.

But everything else, Diane learned from her father. He taught her to be strong, to take whatever life threw at her and Diane had made sure her father knew she would be able to take care of herself, no matter what.

So even if she was uncomfortable, feeling close to throwing up and even tempted to scream, she wouldn't. Her father raised her better than that and she wasn't going to let this break her. She was safe, she reminded herself and she went as far as not crossing her arms, knowing how defensive that might make her appear. Instead, she laced her fingers together, the tips of the ones on her good hand tracing the hard edge of her cast that covered a part of her hand.

Detective Anthony De Luca had a reputation of sorts around Chicago and though Diane never met the man, she'd heard of him. He was one of the best, a decorated veteran cop and it honestly helped her calm down a little. He was a good man, that much she knew, but still, it didn't stop her skin from crawling and her heart beating wildly as she strained not to watch him too much as he stood on the side of her bed.

She was thankful she wasn't attached to a heart monitor, knowing that alone would have given her away literally in a heartbeat.

It didn't help either that she was dressed in the usual god-awful hospital gowns and practically nothing else and sitting underneath a thin sheet and completely unaware of how she looked. Wanting to look presentable at this moment was not cause of vanity, but rather her dependence on always looking put-together and having a mask to hide behind that consisted of a make up, some jewelry and beautiful clothes.

Presentation was everything, that was something she'd learned from her mother and looking impeccable was always a good mask when wanting to look unfazed and collected. She didn't have that advantage, sad to say, so she would have to rely on body language. Paranoid as it may seem, Diane could not help herself.

She was a good actress, or as her brother would prefer to eloquently put it—she was great at bullshitting, which, of course, helped her in her profession but she was beginning to learn that this particular ability of hers was also helping with this situation. Diane was glad she was maintaining her calm. She was probably appearing like an ice queen or even a bitch, but who gave a damn? If there was something she wasn't ever going to be, it was a victim. Yes, she was a victim, but no way in hell was she going to act like one.

Not that she had anything against victims, of course, but it just wasn't her. She preferred to think she was different, that somehow, she wasn't that type of person. She'd never been a good crier, not even when she was a child. Daniel was the dubbed 'cry baby' of the family. Diane wasn't emotional, not like that at least.

The day she resorted to being a puddle of mess or start locking herself in her room and not come out because she was afraid would be the day she'd willingly walk in front of a bus. Diane was a fighter, plain and simple. And no cowardly bastard was going to change that or the course of her life. Whoever did this, she was going to fight just as she'd fought him the night before. She won then, she was going to win now.

Diane was uncomfortable, but that didn't mean she was going to let that stop her.

Those defiant thoughts led her to remembering and Diane almost shuddered but her mind commanded her body not to—not while there was still someone in the room. She knew the detective was watching her every move and she couldn't have him see through her façade, not now. She'd wallow later, when she was alone. Right now, there were more important matters to focus on.

"Are you sure you don't want your brother in for this, Miss Lockhart?" De Luca asked, glancing at the door momentarily before turning back towards her. "In my experience, having someone helps with things like this..."

"No," Diane said quietly, shaking her head. "You don't know my brother, detective."

He nodded, "But I do have a sister and I'd want to be there if she had to go through something like this…"

She nodded, "And what would you do if something like this happened to her?"

He was silent for a moment, his eyes meeting hers, "I'd want to kill the bastard."

"My brother would be…" she glanced briefly at the pile of expensive coat and tie lumped in the chair he'd vacated, "the same and I love him for that, but I also love him enough not to have him end up killing someone in the process of trying to find out who did this because, trust me, he will try." She shook her head, "And trying will lead to disaster, that much I know."

"I understand, but—"

"I will not make a murderer out of my brother," she said bluntly, her eyes meeting his defiantly. "So, please, detective…I'd like to get through this as soon as possible…you have questions, I'm sure." She glanced at the door, "I'd like to finish before my beloved brother decides it would be a good idea to break the door down."

"Of course," he nodded, taking out his notepad.

Diane closed her eyes for a moment, "Thank you."

The questions began and she answered them and gave her account of what happened. Her uneasiness stayed and grew to greater proportions as more and more memories came, every possible detail bringing itself out to the very front of her mind, replaying like a terrifying movie, but she didn't let any of that hinder her. Her nails dug into her skin, she struggled to keep her voice level, bit the inside of her mouth and tried to ignore the rapid beating of her heart.

The tears threatened to come, but she willed them back, blinking rapidly and occasionally rolling her eyes heavenward to make sure they didn't fall. She forced herself to get through the whole thing and even went as far as try to give him vague details of whoever hurt her. The basic things, useless little details, none of them too helpful, but she tried anyway.

Diane got through it and she was proud of the fact that she hadn't let a tear fall or let her composure break. All that, she did, if only to maintain her façade, to have some sort of semblance of control after having her world turned upside down. She did it because she was a Lockhart and her father taught her how to be one.

If she was breaking, De Luca didn't have clue and that was, in itself, enough to let her breathe a little easier. Her heart never stopped thundering and she never stopped feeling like she was drowning, but she got through it and at the moment, that was all that mattered.

Outside, she was composed, collected and completely together. Inside though, was an altogether different story because for the first time in years, Diane found herself wishing for something that was truly impossible and had she allowed herself to cry, she would have. She still didn't and couldn't but this time it wasn't just because she didn't want anyone to see.

Diane knew if she cried then, for that particular reason, she knew she wouldn't be able to stop.

She found herself wishing for the impossible as silently, while trying with everything that was left in her not to break in front of a stranger, her heart cried out.

Daddy, help me.

-o0o-

Daniel didn't like this, not one bit.

He'd been barred from his sister's hospital room with a sweating cup of ice that he should have known she didn't need. He knew Diane better, he couldn't believe he'd fallen for such a trick. He blamed it on his willingness to be the 'big brother'. One minute, he was getting ice, making nice to one her new visitor then next, the door had been locked with a message from one of the guards that his sister had asked for privacy.

Daniel was pissed, that was for sure, but he mostly at himself. He should have parked his ass on his seat and asked a nurse for the ice. He hated it when she pulled tricks like this on him. He should have known.

He knew why she did it, why she didn't want him in the room and he understood, but it didn't stop him from feeling useless, like somehow, she didn't need him. It hurt, of course, but he wasn't self-absorbed enough to think about his own immature reactions so, seemingly out of character, he wasn't going to break the door down and instead, wait until they were done.

Like every woman who'd walked in and out of his life, his sister needed and was silently asking for space. Normally, if this was just any other woman that would be the signal to leave, but this was different. This was his sister, there was no leaving.

When his Diane was ready to tell him, she would and in the meantime, he will practice every ounce of patience his entire being was capable of having. Granted, he wasn't sure if he had all that much, but he would at least try. She'd been through enough as it was. He wasn't going to add to that by picking a fight because of her stubbornness.

At the moment, he knew he had at least two choices—one, bother Will but the man was on his phone again, looking non too happy and two, check out exactly who was his sister's visitor. The man looked like something out of a John Wayne movie and he was pretty sure he could be one if he'd only drop the fashion magazine Daniel was hoping he was only pretending to read.

Then again, Daniel supposed he could call his son, check to see what he'd done wrong this time that landed him in the 'almost' forgiven category, but he was pretty sure he could already guess what that was. He wasn't in the mood to argue or make small talk.

Daniel hadn't been lying or exaggerating that his own son was a stranger to him and he knew that was, in no small part, his fault. He wasn't even going to use the pathetic excuse that he didn't like kids or he wasn't ready for one when Nicholas came along, but Daniel did have his reasons. He'd always be grateful to his sister for being more of a parent than he and his first ex-wife could ever be because God knew that was the only saving grace that kept his son from turning into something else than what he was now.

Nicholas was a stranger to him, but he also knew his son was good. He was intelligent, kind, lacked the brat-like tendencies kids who grew up in a world like his usually had, he was sensible and had a good grasp on the realities of life—at least, that much Daniel knew, but he was sure he'd gotten those things right. His son was a true Lockhart, through and through, and Diane had a lot to do with that.

Daniel knew he'd been dead-beat Dad and Nicholas' mother wasn't exactly Carol Brady right from the beginning, but they both tried, in their own way. Daddy sent him toys, letters and even pictures from his travels, Mommy took him out and took him traveling when her career allowed her to and they always told him they loved him. They sent him to the best schools money could buy, gave him everything he could need and want and kept him safe and healthy.

All in all, it wasn't so bad, but Daniel was sure Mommy and Daddy did enough not-being-there to land their only boy on the couch. Only God, and maybe his sister, knew how much they screwed him up emotionally by being invisible parents.

Still, it could have been worse.

Disposing the cold cup in a nearby waste bin, he pulled out his handkerchief, wiping his hands as he glanced at Will again and rolled his eyes as he noticed the man was still on the phone. God, was he glad he gave up on law. He'd gone through enough experience to last him a lifetime and nothing of it had involved 'helping others'. He never questioned why Diane kept doing it, but he was glad he stopped. He could live without the gold-covered-crap lifestyle.

Glancing at his handkerchief and satisfied he'd dried his hands, Daniel decided to get to know the cowboy. The man looked interesting enough even if it was apparent he was on the quiet side, but Daniel was a gifted conversationalist in a way that he could talk about himself all day and never tire so he headed towards where the man was still sitting.

But, of course, life had a somewhat different idea on how he could spend his time waiting for his sister to finish talking with the detective.

Daniel's phone began to ring, making him roll his eyes as he assumed that his son was calling to give him a piece of his mind for his discretion of the day. With each month that passed, Nicholas was turning more and more into his sister and he loved them both, but heaven help him if that was the case. Reluctantly, Daniel pulled out his phone, checking the screen only to realize he'd assumed wrong.

There, flashing on the screen was the name of the first ex-Mrs. Daniel Archer Lockhart III.

Daniel felt bile rise to his throat, "Oh, joy."

-o0o-

"You owe me for this—big."

Kalinda smiled, leaning against the counter as she watched him look around the small diner. She'd chosen the place, it was out of the way and far from the main circuit of the city. She was taking precautions on this case, knowing there were too many blurred lines already to let anything else muddy the waters.

"No," she smirked, "If I'm mistaken, you still owe me."

"Oh, come on," he scowled slightly. "That was a gimme."

"Was it?" she rolled her eyes slightly. "You know you're the only one who gets a gimme in this game? Isn't this a little unfair?"

"I could lose my job for this."

"You owe me. I'm collecting."

"This case is that special, huh?" he asked, "Boss lady and all. They gonna skin you if you don't deliver?"

"I always deliver," her face decidedly turned serious.

"Oh, boy," he grinned, unfazed. "After this, we're even. I'm sticking my neck out for you, farther than usual, I'm sweatin' bullets here." He yawned, "I slipped out of work after pulling a double. Curtis' wife got sick so he had to bring her to the hospital...god, I could use some coffee…"

"No," she gave him a look and enjoyed how it made him squirm, "Give me what you got. You said you have something for me."

He grinned, suppressing another yawn and covered his mouth, "Ooh, kitty's got claws."

"No," she quirked an eyebrow. "Kitty's got a gun."

"You're a freak, you know that?"

"I'll give you three seconds," she started sliding out of her seat. "One—"

"Oh, come on, K," he mock sighed, grabbing her arm gently. "Whatever happened to greasing up the help?"

"I don't have to grease the help. The help owes me."

"Oh, boy," he grinned, unfazed. "You know I really could lose my job for this."

"You're going to lose a lot more if you dragged me all the way out here for nothing."

"It's always easy for you," he scoffed, "Your boss can't live without you. Mine on the other hand—"

"Three, " she started moving again, "I'm walking."

"Fine," he pouted, "You're no fun when you're serious."

She gave him a look, this time another reason for him to squirm as she sat back down, her face telling him she was done playing. Half the day was nearly over and here she was, getting nowhere. It didn't help they were out in a dingy little diner where only her companion was crazy enough to eat what he'd been served.

Kalinda was no snob, but even she wouldn't risk eating in a germ pool like the place they'd chosen to meet at.

"Whoever broke into the house, tampered with the wires," he began. "Mainly, the electricity—they don't know why or if something went wrong, because according to your other boss' statement, when he came in, he turned the lights on. But it's crazy, you know? Why would a guy tamper with the lights if he wasn't going to screw with them?"

Kalinda looked at her notes, "She made a call to one of the offices—"

"Yeah, to the twenty-four hour maintenance service of their community," he whistled, "What kind of place does she live in anyway? Twenty-four hour service? Jeez. Lady must be loaded…could be robbery."

"Maybe the lights were off when she came in, tried to call in for assistance but something stopped her," Kalinda said, thinking out loud. "And it's not a robbery—nothing was taken."

"Maybe he didn't have time to," he shrugged. "She interrupted him, took him by surprise. The get into it, he thinks he killed her, tucks tail and gets the hell out."

"Too easy," she shook her head. "It's too simple…this was different."

"Spidey senses tingling?"

"What else you got?" Kalinda shook her head, ignoring his childish tendencies. If this was any other man-boy, she would just up and leave, but she needed information and he was willing to give them. He made her job easier.

"The guy at the morgue," he slid a picture across to her.

"What am I looking at?"

"A dead guy at the morgue."

She glared at him, "Okay, okay. That dead guy, as I told you before, Jackson, died from a bullet to the head," he pointed at the hole, "Now the hit on his forehead may look like it could have been self-inflicted, but tests came back—gunshot residue and they took a closer look at his hands."

He slid another picture and Kalinda found herself studying them, "See that?" he traced his fingers along the photo, "There's stippling here, right here on his forehead, see that starburst?"

"Consistent with a close range shot," Kalinda looked at the photos.

"Here's his hand," he slid another picture on top of the one she'd been looking at, "See that? His hand right there? Blowback."

"Hand fires the gun, blowback—blood and tissue on his hand and gun," she shook her head. "He has blood all over his hands, how did they manage to distinguish anything so fast?"

"The guys up at the lab did something with the pictures, took more samples and, this time they wanted the little suckers," he shrugged. "They were going to take what they could get and—" he pointed to the photo, "With a few more clicks…"

"I'm not seeing any…" Kalinda stopped, staring at the man across from her, the realization dawning on her, "I'm not seeing anything…"

"Because…"

"…because there isn't anything there."

"And this is why we're even," he grinned, "Ha! I knew you were a brainiac."

"No blowback," Kalinda ignored his comment, "This means…he didn't shoot himself."

He nodded, smile fading a little, "Yeah. And you know what this could mean…"

Kalinda nodded grimly, "Someone's still out there."

-o0o-

"Aren't you going to get that?"

Daniel looked up, startled as he saw Will walking towards him. The man looked composed now, as if he hadn't been stressing on the phone moments ago. He'd have to give it to the guy, it looked like he could bullshit just like his sister. It was no wonder they were partners.

"Nope," he replied, dangling his phone between his fingers. "I'm debating whether it's a good idea to just drop my phone and say it broke by accident."

Will grinned, "Who's calling?"

"Ex-wife," he grumbled, "Numero uno and she's called me twice already, this is her third. Before you know it, flying monkeys will descend upon Chicago, bringing their mistress along…waving a machete for my head, if I'm lucky."

"Sounds…"

"Scary," Daniel finished. "Although it really isn't more scary than…well, she's just plain crazy, really." He looked at the lawyer, "She chased me with a meat cleaver once."

"Really?"

"Yes, but in her defense, she was pregnant at the time," he shrugged. "Hormones...god's joke on husbands and baby daddies. She made The Exorcist look like child's play."

"Sounds like a hell of a woman," Will said, leaning against the wall.

"Hell is a good word to describe her," Daniel nodded. "Batshit crazy, no doubt about it." He paused, glancing at his now silent phone. "Hey, it stopped…"

"Maybe she gave up," Will suggested, only to have the older man laugh.

"Right, give up," he snorted. "That woman is like an attack dog—once she latches on to you, there's no shaking her off. Either you knock her out, kill her or cut the appendage off."

"She gets more and more attractive with each description," Will said sarcastically. "Well, if she didn't give up, it must've gone into voicemail."

Daniel scowled, "Oh. Great. Now, I get to hear my beloved ex-wife screaming like a banshee over and over again. Oh, yay, I get to replay!"

Will chuckled, "Always nice to see exes stay friends…"

"Ha!" Daniel laughed, "Good one."

"Thanks, but…" Will stopped, glancing behind Daniel to see the two uniforms standing in front of Diane' door, "Did Diane kick you out?"

"Something like that," Daniel scowled. "She's talking with a detective."

"What?" Will stood straight, pushing off the wall and heading towards Diane's room, only to be blocked by one of the uniforms.

"Sorry, Mr. Gardner. Miss Lockhart requested that nobody be let in the room while she and Detective De Luca speak."

"What? But I'm her-her lawyer—"

"Miss Lockhart specifically requested that you and Mr. Lockhart wait outside, sir."

Will glanced at Daniel who was scowling again, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay," Will said, nodding slowly before walking back towards Daniel, "What's going on?"

"My sister…well, she can be pigheaded if she wants to be," Daniel shrugged. "She doesn't want any of us to be there when she gives her statement to that detective."

"She likes her secrets," Will said with a touch of bitterness in his voice.

Daniel kept quiet for a moment before shaking his head, "You've known her how long?"

"Why?"

"You should be used to it by now," Daniel said then walked away, "I saw a guy here."

"Where?" Will asked, glancing at the guards before following the older man.

"Ah, damn," Daniel snapped a finger, finding the waiting area empty. "He was right here."

"Who?"

"Guy reading a magazine," he answered, looking around. "Glamour, can you believe that?"

Will's brows furrowed, "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, some cowboy," Daniel waved a hand lazily as he sat down. "Worked with Danni?"

"You mean Kurt McVeigh?"

"Yes, that's the one," he answered. "He was reading this," he showed the magazine. "Told him Vogue was better, but he didn't seem convinced."

"You were…" Will paused, wondering if he was getting the idea right. "Discussing women's fashion magazine?"

"Pretty much."

"Kurt McVeigh—mustache, dresses like a cowboy, doesn't talk much?"

"Friend of yours?"

"Uh, not really," Will shook his head, taking the seat across from Daniel with the small coffee table separating them. "He's one of our consultants at the firm. Ballistics."

"Cowboy with a gun, how unique," Daniel remarked. "Is he friends with my sister?"

"You could say that," Will shrugged, "I'm not sure."

"But the nurse said you put him on the list of allowed visitors."

"Yes, Diane…" Will sighed, "She knows Kurt better than I do."

"Ambiguous but okay," Daniel nodded. "How does she know him exactly?"

"I don't know, we haven't had much time to talk recently," Will answered, "The problems with the firm…"

"Ah, of course," Daniel nodded slowly. "I should hate you and, in fact, I've been tempted to go down here myself and wring your neck, but—"

"Excuse me?" Will looked taken aback.

"Danni said Nicholas will forever remain an only child if I do so, don't worry, you're safe," Daniel explained with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Not that I want any more spawns, but I still like sex so…there."

"But why would you want to—"

"I didn't like what I was hearing," Daniel shrugged, "I hate hearing my sister upset—"

"Wait, Diane was upset? Why?"

"For a number of reasons and she would never outright say it, but," Daniel raised an eyebrow, "You were one of them."

"But—"

"Don't worry," Daniel raised his hands in mock surrender, "You saved my sister…I am indebted to you so for that, I won't kill you."

"…uh, thank you," Will said, staring at the man across from him oddly.

"Thank my sister," Daniel rolled his eyes, "She's too nice. It almost sickens me."

"Too nice?" Will chuckled, "I have to say, I've described Diane in so many words, but not really…too nice." He paused, "Not that she isn't, I mean, nice or…I mean…"

Daniel grinned, "I wasn't really going to kill you, you know. Pull back, kid. You're fine."

Will nodded, shaking his head slightly. "I blame my…inability to communicate better on lack of sleep. It's been a crazy day."

"It has, hasn't it?" Daniel sighed, looking around slightly before turning to Will again. "How…you know, I was wondering…are you sleeping with my sister?"

Will shot forward in his seat, "What?"

"I mean, I never pictured Danni would—"

"Excuse me, whoa, wait a minute, WAIT!" Will leaned forward, waving his hands in front of him. "Stop. Wait. I mean, I…what?"

"From the way you're sputtering, I'm guessing that's a no?"

"Yes, I mean, no, I mean—" Will cleared his throat, his hand fumbling for the knot of his tie, loosening it slightly. "Ahem, I," he chuckled nervously, "I am not sleeping with your sister. I mean, she's-she's great and she is, uhm, a-a very attractive woman but we work together and we run a, huh, a firm so, no, no, no…we are not, er—I'm not sleeping with Diane."

"Oh, right then," Daniel chuckled. "God, the look on your face…I should have taken a picture."

"Funny," Will nodded slightly as he tried to get over having the rug pulled so suddenly from under him. "Uh, what would make you think that Diane and I were…were…"

Daniel shrugged, "Well, when I drive all the way to a woman's house, it's usually for, you know," he grinned, "And Barrington Lake, well, it's not exactly close to the city."

Will blinked, "Oh," he hummed. "Well, we had a bit of a disagreement. I said some things and I felt bad so I decided to drive to her place and try to at least apologize."

"Huh, a lawyer with a conscience," Daniel joked. "So, you fought again and you wanted to apologize? From what I hear, you're not the apologizing type, Will."

"Last night was different," Will admitted. "I said some things that were…out of line."

Daniel nodded, "Is that why you were behaving like a pansy ass in there?"

Will paused, frowning slightly before nodding, "Yeah."

"Plus, the fact that this happened," he shook his head, "Drove you crazy, didn't it?"

"You could say that," Will answered quietly. "It just…" he looked away, "When I came into the house, saw the mess, then the blood and then I saw her and-and she was just…lying there." He closed his eyes, willing the image away from his mind thought it was impossible. "…I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine," Daniel said, nodding slightly. "It helps…knowing." He shook his head, "God knows she won't talk to me."

"Diane tends to hide things," Will nodded, slumping slightly in his seat, suit and all though he didn't care about that at the moment. He was still too busy trying to banish the details of the night before away from his mind. He didn't want to think about that yet.

"Not to me," he shook his head, "It's been just the two of us for a while now, we've learned it's better not to hide things from each other." He adjusted the rolled sleeves on his arm, "It's no use anyway, we know each other too well."

"Must have been great, growing up knowing you're not alone."

"Spoken like a true only child," the older man chuckled, "It had its moments, I suppose. It was certainly fun having someone to play with, but of course, there were still days when we could just kill each other."

"What was it like, growing up with Diane?" Will asked, genuinely curious. He was hoping to learn more about his partner through her brother. Daniel didn't seem to have a problem talking about his sister and their lives.

"Interesting," Daniel said, "I certainly wouldn't have minded having a male twin, but Danni—"

"Excuse me, did you say twin?" Will's eyebrows shot up.

Daniel closed his eyes, letting his head fall back with a long sigh, "Oh, for god's sake, what do you people know about this woman, exactly?"

"She never mentioned that fact, just that she had a brother…"

"And since she's the more senior partner, you didn't dare question her more or look into her records," Daniel guessed. "Unbelievable, it's like I'm the creature of the underworld she hides in her basement."

"You're twins?"

"Yes, we are, and yes, I'm older by—" Daniel stopped, "Oh, forget it. She didn't tell you, now you know. Let's move on, shall we?"

"Do you have any other siblings?" Will asked, leaning forward now though he was still reeling from the latest inside fact. Diane was a twin. How the hell did he not know that? "I mean, I'm really curious here. How much do I really know about Diane?"

Yes, that was a good question, just how much did he know about the suddenly mysterious Diane Lockhart? God, it was almost funny.

"No other siblings," Daniel shook his head, "The first pregnancy drove mother insane. She was scared of everything and tended to be a little overprotective of her children. She vowed two was enough, called us perfect and that was it."

"No other siblings," Will repeated, "But…" he looked at Daniel then shook his head, "Never mind."

"What?" Come on, you'll never get things like this from my sister, might as well ask me."

"It's just…" Will placed his elbows on his knees, crouching slightly as he leaned closer. "When I spoke with Dr. Nolan he told me…" he folded his hand together, "Before they could put her under anesthesia, Diane woke up and called for someone."

"Who?" Daniel raised an eyebrow, so similar to the way his sister did.

"Uh, Matthew?" Will said, hesitating slightly. "Do you know anyone acquainted to Diane named Matthew? Because, I don't know so I'm not sure...I was wondering maybe if you'd know."

Daniel paused, staring at Will for a moment, "My sister called for Matthew?"

"That's what they told me, they said she sounded pretty anxious."

"Are they sure it was Matthew? I mean, if she just woke up, she might have been," he shrugged, "Disoriented, maybe? Or something…she called for Matthew?"

"That's what Dr. Nolan told me," Will said. "Why? Who is he?"

"No idea," Daniel said, though it sounded as if he had answered too quickly. "Maybe it's from work. I'm sure she meets a lot of people, my sister. She's good at that."

Will stared at Daniel curiously before nodding, "Maybe."

"Look at the time, it's almost lunch," Daniel stood up, "I better call for some food. God knows you can search the entire world, you'd still never find a hospital with good food. It's like a sick conspiracy…no pun intended." He turned to Will, "Staying for lunch?"

"Uh, sure."

"Good."

As the man walked away, phone in hand, Will stared after him. He didn't know Daniel Lockhart well, but Will was pretty sure he'd just been lied to. He knew that look on the man's face and that was recognition and, if he wasn't banking too much on his ability to read people, shock mixed with something else. Will was sure it wasn't just Diane who knew Matthew, whoever he was. Somehow, Daniel knew him as well. And clearly, he was someone to the two Lockharts.

Seating back against his seat, Will wondered if perhaps there was more to the story. Obviously, Matthew was someone possibly important to Diane and someone Daniel knew as well. He'd gone as far as lying about knowing the man, but it was too obvious he knew him. Shaking his head slightly, Will was almost to make yet another phone call but debated on it silently.

Clearly, there were still a lot of things to know about Diane, but was Will ready to venture into this particular area of her life? God knew what was in it and what the story behind the whole thing was, but was Will willing to pry into all that? He wasn't even sure if there was anything there, he was only following a gut feeling.

Pulling out his phone, Will tried to decide whether or not to make the call.

-o0o-

"That's everything you remember?"

Diane nodded, "For now, maybe…I don't know."

"I know this is difficult for you, Miss Lockhart," De Luca said sincerely, noticing the way she was trying not to show how much her fingers were trembling. She'd held her own through the whole thing, barely cracking and he had to admire her for that. It showed an incredible amount of control and it was apparent that it took a lot out of her.

If anything, he was sure he could guess right that this was a woman who didn't allow herself to show much emotion unless she had to. She was tough, he'd give her that, and she seemed like the type to grit her teeth and get through things without the unnecessary histrionics. He could imagine she rarely ever backed down from anything.

De Luca knew he shouldn't be thinking about anything other than work, but he could see that this woman could be the perfect match for a certain friend he'd left waiting outside.

She wasn't emotional or anything like an airhead, nowhere near a floozy and seemed sensible and, something that was quite obvious, was rather intelligent. He couldn't imagine a better match. If anything, he could really picture them bickering and arguing about anything and everything—politics to who left what where.

Of course, that would be thinking ahead, but De Luca was only thinking about his friend. The man needed a woman, bad. It just so happened that the woman he was now getting a statement from happened to be a good match for him.

"We've been investigating all morning, following up on some leads and," De Luca pulled out a small photo, deciding it was better to do it now rather than later. "Something came up."

"What?" Diane asked, hesitating only slightly he wasn't even sure if she did at all.

"A body was found this morning and we think it's the same guy who attacked you last night," he explained. "I have a photo but..."

"I-I'd like to see it," she answered, swallowing slightly. "I'm not sure if I saw his face…it was dark, but I could try…"

De Luca nodded, "His name is Mark Jackson. Does that sound familiar to you?"

"Uhm, no," she shook her head slightly. "Does he have a record?"

"Yeah, he just got out of the pen recently," he answered.

"I usually take class action cases these days," she answered. "Managing the firm takes some time and when I do try criminal cases, it's mostly pro-bono or the bigger cases…and, for the most part, for pro-bono cases, my clients are usually women."

"Of course," he nodded, "Now, this is a photo we took in the morgue. Are you sure you—"

She nodded, "Please. If it'll help at all…"

"Alright," he nodded then handed her the photo.

De Luca waited a moment, watching her closely as she held the photo in her hands. He could see the slight distress on her face, clearly trying to recognize the man in the picture.

"I…I remember trying to scratch his eye out," she said quietly, "Childish and stupid, I can imagine—"

"No," De Luca shook his head, "It's a good move. Easier to get someone off of you that way…it looked like it worked."

"It gave me time to run…" she nodded. "I'm…I can't remember his face…I was so-so…I don't know." She shook her head, her hand going to her face, "It was too dark."

"It's fine," he said. "The labs are working on the evidence. They're pretty sure it's him, but they'll work in confirming everything, of course."

"If it is him…does that mean…" she covered her lips with her fingers, "It's over?"

De Luca paused, "We'll see, Miss Lockhart."

"You're looking for a motive," she said slightly, pursing her lips. "Should be easy…just tell them what I do for a living."

He managed a small grin, "Yeah."

"Detective, would you…" she paused, biting her bottom lip slightly. "My brother told me that, uh…who found me?"

"Found you?"

"At my house, who found me? I-I wasn't expecting anyone and it was late…"

"Oh," De Luca nodded slightly, "Your partner, Will Gardner, ma'am." He paused, "We spoke with him and he said you had a discussion before you left work and he followed you home. He wanted to talk to you and instead, well, you know the rest."

Diane nodded slightly, "Thank you, detective."

"You're welcome, Miss Lockhart."

-o0o-

"Sir, there's someone here to see you."

"I already said I'm busy, Joan—"

"It's urgent, Mr. Overby," came the meek reply. "A Detective Clancy from the Chicago Police Department is here for you."

Malcolm stopped, sighing as he set his pen down and began to straighten his tie lazily. What now? He didn't have time for this. "Fine, send him in."

"Yes, Mr. Overby."

Pushing a few papers aside and setting an unopened envelop inside his desk drawer, locking shut just as the doors to his office opened. A ready smile appeared on his face as he stood up, rounding his desk with a hand stretched out. "Good afternoon, I'm Malcolm Overby. Is there anything I can do for you, Detective…I'm sorry, what was it again?"

"Clancy," the man was younger than him, but looked quite intense. Malcolm had been in the business enough to figure this one out. Kid with a boss, looking to impress and whatever the matter was, Malcolm was willing to cater to that. He wasn't old enough to forget the days when he'd been an eager associate himself, trying to please his bosses to get in the boys' club.

"I'm Detective Adam Clancy. Thank you for your time, Mr. Overby."

"Of course," he gave him the smile he usually gave clients, "Please, have a seat and tell me what brings you by. Would you like something to drink? Coffee?"

"No, thank you," the detective said as he sat down. He waited until Malcolm sat back in his seat before starting, "Mr. Overby, are you aware of news regarding a Diane Lockhart?"

Malcolm's smile faded slightly at the mention of the name and he found himself shifting slightly in his seat, straightening up the tie he'd just smoothed down moments ago, "Uh, yes, I heard…I saw the news that she was attacked in her home. Terrible tragedy…" he looked at the young man, "Are you investigating the case, Detective Clancy?"

"With Detective De Luca," he nodded. "Now, I understand you know Miss Lockhart…"

"Yes," he nodded slightly, "We're old friends."

"Then would you mind answering some questions?"

"Of course not," Malcolm said, leaning forward in his seat, trying to gain back the control he'd clumsily let slip. "Although, I have to say there isn't much I can tell you. Diane and I…well, we're just old friends."

"Would you care to elaborate on that, sir?"

"We met in law school," he said, swallowing slightly, "First year at Yale."

"You were friends?"

"Yes," he nodded, "But even back then she was pretty focused on her classes, studying every chance she could, flying to Chicago to be with her family when her scheduled allowed, things like that. It left little time for friends, but we got to know each other pretty well."

"Did you date or anything like that?"

"Oh, no," he chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "Diane was…well, I already described how she was, but I'm sure you can guess there weren't that many women taking up law at that time, at least not like now, and she was pretty driven. If she dated anyone back then, well, it wasn't me and I'm not entirely sure if she did."

"Have you been in contact with her recently?"

"Yes," he nodded. "A few months ago, we literally bumped into each other in a silent auction for charity, we got together and talked, caught up," he chuckled. "We'd been living in the same city for so long, we were quite amazed our paths hadn't crossed until then so we took advantage of it…we agreed to see each other again, catch up more."

"So you maintained contact after that event?" the detective inquired.

"Uh, yes, for a while we caught up with each other," he admitted. "I even got to see her firm once, one of those rare moments when our schedules didn't clash…" He grinned, "Lawyers and schedules, never a good combination if you want to catch up with old friends."

"So, how did that turn out?"

"Well, for a while we met regularly, but…" he trailed off, "Well, we lost touch again. Her schedule got so busy, it became harder and harder to keep catching up. We both run sizable firms, it was hard to coordinate schedules."

"You lost touch again?"

"Yes," he nodded, "Unfortunately."

"And you haven't tried to contact her since?"

"I understood she was a busy woman," Malcolm said, waving a hand lazily. "I didn't take it personally. I mean, I'm the same so I'd be a hypocrite if I held that against her."

"When was the last time you got in touch with Miss Lockhart?"

"I'm sorry," Malcolm held up a hand. "I don't mean to interrupt this little powwow, but I have to ask, being a lawyer, but what is this leading to? Diane and I are old friends and I feel terrible about what happened…you're investigating the attack, why are you here?"

"We're just talking to some people, people who have some connections with Miss Lockhart."

"Personal or professional?"

"Both, people who were in contact with her recently," the detective replied, nonplussed at the needling. He was more than ready, it seemed. "We're looking in on everyone."

"How did you even know about…about me and Diane?" he asked, his brow wrinkling. "I'm pretty sure this matter isn't of public knowledge."

"We've talked to a few people who saw you at the firm," Detective Clancy replied. "And you were logged in the firm's records."

"Ah, of course," Malcolm nodded.

"So, would you please answer the question?"

"Which was?"

"When was the last time you had any contact with Miss Lockhart?"

"Well," Malcolm bowed his head slightly. "I went to see her at her firm, hoping to at least try and…coordinate our schedules better. I was interested in seeing her, uh, maybe have a date. She seemed interested so I thought I'd give it a try, I mean, what did I have to lose, right?"

"Right," Clancy nodded. "So, did you? Have a date, I mean."

"No," Malcolm said, shifting uneasily in his seat. "I mean…I…"

"Yes?"

"I have to say it wasn't my best moment," the lawyer admitted, looking contrite. "I…my temper got the best of me, I admit that, but honestly, what was done to Diane…I wouldn't do it. God in heaven, I wouldn't hurt her."

The detective leaned forward, "What are you talking about, Mr. Overby?"

"I went to her firm to ask her out, maybe lunch or dinner," Malcolm explained, "It wasn't too long ago, but…well, let's just say it didn't exactly go as I originally planned…"

"What do you think you're doing here?"

Malcolm Overby was used to hostility, he was a lawyer after all, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why he was getting hostility from Diane Lockhart. The last time they'd seen each other, things had gone so well. It was when she stopped taking his calls when things just went straight downhill with no warning whatsoever.

He'd chalked it up her being a woman—fickle, nutty and just downright unexplainable—but thinking back, he realized she wasn't just any woman, this was Diane Lockhart, for god's sake. He was so sure she was a cut above the rest.

Then again, that's what he always thought of his girlfriends and ex-wife. When was he ever going to learn? Women, can't live with them...

"Diane," he smiled easily. He'd dealt with rabid clients before, he could deal with her easy. He knew her well enough to know she wasn't the scene-making type, especially not in her own firm. "It's nice to see you too."

She walked into her office, tall and beautiful, but looking very much like the Diane he'd seen in court, which meant she was ready to let her claws out. Uh-oh. He was in deep trouble, which was unfair, when he hadn't done anything. His frat brothers were right. Women are crazy and it was obvious that Diane Lockhart was no exception.

"I'm busy, please leave," she said, walking past him and heading to her desk. She situated herself in her seat, not bothering to even look at him as she grabbed a file that had been placed at the corner of her desk.

"Diane, I honestly don't know what's gotten into you—"

"Mr. Overby," her voice was cold and was practically launching icicles at him and her eyes were the same. "I have a client coming in and I'd like to get some things done before we meet. Now, this time I'm not asking you." Her eyes narrowed, "Leave."

"Miss Lockhart," two could play this game and he easily switched his tone from cordial to formal. "I came here with the purpose of talking to you, but since you're in no mood to talk," childishly, he was chalking it up to that time of the month but wisely kept his mouth shut. "I'm going right ahead to my other reason for coming."

"And what would that be?" she said sarcastically with just the right amount of hostility. She was humoring him, which was a good sign, but given the past few months, he was sure she could go to humoring him to calling security in a drop of a hat.

He had to do this fast.

"I'll just say this right out," he said, gesturing slightly with his hand. He was going from wounded wooer to businessman. He could be just as good with the old switcheroo as her, thank you. "I want to buy your firm."

"Excuse me?" he wished he had a camera. It wasn't everyday anyone could easily pull the rug from under Diane Lockhart. That was an achievement right there.

"But of course, with you in it," he added smoothly, slipping his hands into his pocket. "I'm willing to make a starting offer," he pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper and placed it in front of her. He watched as she eyed it, one eyebrow lifting only slightly and he had to admit it was quite a turn on how she managed to stay so cool, knowing the numbers he'd written had to have been impressive. Then again, he had to remind himself who he was talking to.

"That's my firm's starting offer, but your salary is not included yet and of course," he smiled charmingly as she looked at him, the paper in front of her untouched. "The added bonuses you'll get for new clients. I'll match your current salary, if that'll do it."

She was staring at him, he had her attention. He knew he had to keep going before she snapped out of whatever lull he'd managed to bring her to with the piece of paper he'd just given her. This was going to be easier than he thought.

"Your client list, files—I get everything," he continued. "You can sell your office space since I will be giving you your own office back at my firm," he eyed the windows that surrounded her, "I obviously cannot offer the same view, but I can offer you the same office size, bigger if you want. The view will be different…more tall buildings and the like, but I think you already know that."

Yes, ensnare her even more. This was seduction in business and she was interested.

"We'll get together, talk some business and get the final numbers in," he shrugged. "That's my opening offer and I can say it has to be better than how you're doing now." He smiled, "I won't lie to you, Diane. I want your name."

His mother did always tell him honesty was the best policy.

"My name?" she looked curious and surprised, fingers playing with the double strands of pearls around her neck.

"Yes," he nodded. "Whether you acknowledge it or not, you're one of the biggest names in Chicago for your career alone. Then add in your family history…"

He let it hang in the air. Her father had been a Congressman, one people actually loved, but she'd made a name for herself well enough that people had long ago written off her father as an afterthought when talking about Daddy's Ice Princess. She'd built an impressive reputation for herself beyond the Lockhart name and made an altogether different one on her own.

"You'll live in the same luxuries you've long grown used to," he cooed, giving her a smile again, this time a more intimate one. "I'll give you freedom to choose your clients and I know you're known for your pro-bono cases as well, you'll have carte blanche on that matter. You'll be slated as a non-equity partner, yes, but that can change. It won't be the same as having your own firm, but everyone will know you're still Diane Lockhart and I can promise that you'll be respected and well-received in my firm. You'll be one of the most senior lawyers there."

He watched her for a moment, tilting his head to the side before adding, "Of course, your non-equity status can change, with time, and knowing you, it won't take long." He smiled slightly, "You've never been one to disappoint and I am more than confident you'll be a valuable asset to our firm."

"Why would you want this?" she asked, suspicious. "You're offering a lot more than you should be offering me…why?"

"You're Diane Lockhart," he said simply. "You deserve nothing less."

She raised an eyebrow, a sign that she was slowly coming back to life. If he'd had her in a trance, she was slowly coming out of it already. Time was almost up.

"And okay, a client saw you at that class-action case you won against McCloon," he said, fessing up with a grin. "Zennapril Pharmaceuticals and that move you pulled with the application they filed in Europe. It impressed a lot of people. It was ingenious."

Diane stared at him, he took it as his cue to keep going.

"We'll spin it, call it a merger," he said, giving in. He was throwing everything he had in this pot, why not the last trick he had up his sleeve? The woman had pride that much was clear. "We'll do a press release, say we're merging instead of declaring that I'm buying you out."

"What about my people?" she asked and he was tempted to start jumping up and down. But no, he was a grown man, a businessman and a lawyer. He'd jump in his closed office later with a glass of champagne to celebrate if need be.

"Your people?" he echoed, feigning ignorance. "Well, you can bring them with you, of course, we'll have to discuss matters on that, but if that's what it'll take to bring you over, why not?"

She crossed her arms, eyeing him still with suspicion, but there was a glint in her eyes that told him he'd accomplished something. He was working towards his goal, now he just needed to reel her in.

"And Will?"

"Will?"

"My partner," she rolled her eyes, which amused him. "I'm not the only partner of this firm. We're going to have to discuss your offer together."

Ah, yes. He'd heard of that matter. Yes, Will Gardner. He knew a lot about Will Gardner, as did everyone in their circle did. He couldn't help but smile, "There's a reason why I came to you."

"And what would that be?" she said, her eyes daring him to say the wrong thing.

"I want you, just you," he shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "If you want Will as part of the deal, I can keep him as well, but…if you want him gone." He spread his arms wide, "He's gone."

He saw her eyes widen and her lips open partially. He'd kissed those lips only weeks before, god, and he wanted to kiss them again now, for a whole new set of reasons. He was in. Malcolm got ready, circling in for the kill, the best part of the game. He could definitely taste victory and it was sweet.

"You're the one I want," he said repeated, voice smooth as velvet. "And I heard you haven't been getting along because of the financial troubles your firm is facing, among other things." He paused. "I've also heard rumors about some…conflict you've been having among the associates."

He let that hang in the air. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't been hoping to use this trick.

After Duke Rosco, everyone in town already knew about Alicia Florrick and her relationship with Will Gardner. He couldn't deny he'd been keeping an ear out for that one. And if Malcolm knew Diane any better, he knew she'd be against something so tawdry, professionally and personally. It was Will who had moral issues, not Diane.

"You won't have that in my firm," he went on. "You will get the respect you so deserve and more, Diane. Loyalty won't be questioned; I can assure you of that."

She was big on loyalty too, he knew that as well.

"Stern has already made some progress in building up his new firm," he motioned to the windows where in one of the tall buildings he was sure Jonas Stern was. Her beloved mentor who turned on her, that was another ace he had up his sleeve. Being his best protégé, Diane had been nothing but loyal to him, but of course the sniveling little bastard threw her under the bus the moment the opportunity presented itself.

If anything, Malcolm knew that must have devastated her, god only knew what it did to her ability to trust and venture into newer partnerships. Nevertheless, Stern's loss was about to be his gain.

"You won't have to go through that kind of betrayal, Diane," he soothed with a solemn face, as if he could sympathize with her, what she was feeling. "I'll make sure of that."

And right then, Malcolm knew he'd made a mistake. One moment, he had her, he was sure, but he saw her face suddenly morph into something different. She was passive in his seduction, showed slight signs of giving in near the end, but suddenly, something shifted.

Her eyes hardened, her hands curled into tight fists and she pursed her lips into a grim red line. He knew that look, as did most lawyers in the law district did. That was Diane Lockhart in Ice Queen mode and often, if not always, that meant someone's destruction.

"You're making quite an offer, Mr. Overby," she said smoothly as she stood up, long elegant fingers smoothing her skirt as she did so. "And I have to say, while I was suspicious, I was also intrigued, but…"

Her eyes told him he'd blown it, somehow he'd done or said something that ruined everything. He didn't know what he did, but there was something. It pissed him off that he couldn't figure out what. The woman had to be insane, or if not, at the very least had schizophrenic tendencies.

Malcolm was getting tired of playing a game he didn't even know the rules to. She was screwing with him, plain and simple and it wasn't fair. He was a lawyer, but even this he found unfair.

"Your firm is floundering," he said, reeling from the sudden change. What the hell had he done now? He'd had her, he'd been so sure! What changed? So quickly too! This was insane. She was insane.

"We're fine."

"And how many times do you say that to yourself when you go through the books?" he suddenly blurted out without meaning to. He'd said it with venom too and he was sure however deeply he'd seduced her, he'd just broken her free.

But he'd said it already and he was angry so there was no turning back.

"When payroll comes in, do you notice how you struggle with each month?" he ground out. "How many layoffs already? How many more? How many pay cuts have you gone through? What necessary things have you cut just to get the business afloat? Validation for parking, that's out the window, if I noticed correctly. What else?"

"I think we're done talking business, Mr. Overby," she said smoothly, unaffected by his outburst. "Now, please leave."

"You're making a big mistake, Diane," he said, eyes narrowing. "Your firm is going under, it's time to face the facts. You're going down with it but I'm offering you something you'll never get from anyone." He smirked, "Don't be a fool."

"Too late," she said darkly, walking towards the door, past him again then opened it.

"Diane—"

"Goodbye, Mr. Overby," she said simply, motioning for the open door.

"You're insane," he muttered. "You're turning down the best offer you could ever get."

"I'll take my chances," she hissed, voice dripping with venom.

He walked past her, his eyes boring into hers, "Then you're screwed."

"Like I said," Malcolm said, shrugging as he rubbed the side of his face with one hand wearily, "It wasn't my brightest moment."

"Is that what the flowers were for?"

"Flowers?"

"There were flowers sent to Miss Lockhart's office, just today," Detective Clancy said, "Gardenias and there was a note with—"

"I'm sorry," Malcolm nodded, finishing for him with a slight wave of his hand. "I…felt terrible about what I'd said and done, I couldn't believe I reacted like that…better late than never, right?"

"Yeah," the detective nodded. "If I pissed off a woman I was trying to date, I'd wanna send some flowers too. Pronto."

"Exactly," the lawyer smiled. "I mean, of course, it wouldn't begin to atone for what I've done, but it was a start at least. Diane…well, she's a special woman with high standards. Her forgiveness, I'm sure, wouldn't be easy to win."

"I'd guessed as much," Clancy nodded. "So, that fight—"

"I'd rather say it was a small misunderstanding…"

Clancy nodded, "Of course. So after that small misunderstanding, you haven't spoken to Miss Lockhart since then? Not even through the phone or email?"

"No, I'm afraid not," Malcolm looked solemn. "I…god, I can't believe this happened to Diane, I mean, she really is a wonderful person." He shook his head, "Honestly, I can't think of why anyone would want to hurt her."

"Well, this is Chicago and to be honest, basing on my experience," the detective shook his head, "You can pretty much find any reason to hurt someone if you wanted to bad enough."

Malcolm nodded, "Yes…I suppose you're right."

-o0o0o0o0o0o-

Yes, I noticed Kalinda's friend had no name. Intentional.

Yes, I still think this chapter sucked. I think you guys might just agree this time…this was bad, on many levels.

And yes, I can hear you…where did Kurt go? *blinks* Shhh...

Anyway, I must admit I got so excited when I saw the reviews and I couldn't help myself and replied to those who replied with accounts. Usually, I reply before posting, but I was really just so happy, I couldn't wait. Anyway, but since my good, good, good friend Ellie doesn't have an account here, I think she's the only one I haven't replied to yet.

Note:

To Ellie:
I think I can definitely be sure I let you down with the whole Diane-De Luca scene. It was hard to write, honestly. I didn't know how else I could spin it. I don't know…you already know something hasn't been right with me lately—why am I sleeping at NIGHT now anyway? I still don't know! I think the good scene between those two will come after since I honestly didn't know how I could spin a supposed to be serious scene like that.

If I can promise anything, Diane and De Luca will have more amusing scenes in the future—I've got a few drafts in for those already. And yes, it will have something to do with someone they both have in common with. Teehee. McLuca shall go on!

I'm very happy you still like Annie and yes, it is something like what we discussed on parenting, right? She's still conked out, but I think I might bring her around again soon. And yes, I am willing to admit that I enjoyed writing that scene with Daniel committing a felony. Teehee.

Okay, even if I thought the chapter was crap, I'm glad you seemed to like it. I really think you guys are seeing something I'm practically blind to. I'm glad you guys like my story—I do like getting feedback about it, though I don't believe some of what you guys say. lol

Anyway, I'll catch you on ECB. It's only 11pm here and I am really sleepy already. I don't get what's wrong with me, but there's something…ugh. And yes, I will tell my Muse…whoever or whatever she may be, that someone greatly appreciates her! That might make her work faster. Haha.

Thanks again, Ellie! We still remember what you did so THANK YOU so much!

To Everyone else,
Thank you for reading, please leave a review if you have the time and stick around, more will come…and I'm hoping it'll be better.
Thanks!

PS If there are any typos, I will edit later, right now...my eyes can't stay open anymore. NO beta, barely edited this...now I really am considering the offer, Rose!