AN: Hi everyone, I'd like to say once again a huge thank you to all of you who have read/reviewed/favourited/followed or checked out the story thus far. I can't tell you how much it means that you're still sticking with me all these chapters later. A special thank you goes out to Ltlconf, ILoveXmas, and Blindmoose for all of your kind support, words of wisdom and chats - you're keeping me going with this, especially in those moments when I'm feeling a little lost so thank you :)

This chapter again uses flashbacks - they're written in italics to make it easier to keep track of them - and it covers the testimony of the Count and explains the events of February 22nd 1980, events which in my FOL universe changed things completely for Jo. I struggled a little with exactly where this chapter was heading at first and restarted it several times, originally I had planned to have Jo testify straight after the Count but that didn't work very well. I know that some of this is reaching a little but hopefully it's written well enough that you can forgive me that and willingly suspend your disbelief. The next chapter will see Anderson really stepping up the defence case and so this chapter ends with the beginning of that plus a little scene that I couldn't resist adding since the rest of the chapter is so heavy. I hope that you enjoy the chapter, as usual it is unbeta'd so mistakes are of my own making - if you spot any be sure to let me know and I'll change them asap. I've done my best to research as much as possible but if I've missed the mark on anything just give me a shout :)

Thanks again

Jaxx

...

'That's the way

To fool their preparation and to conquer

Their most absurd intents.'

William Shakespeare's Antony and Cleopatra, Cleopatra at her suicide, Written 1606 approx.

...

Chapter 11: Cruel Deception

Jo remained silent as her tears fell. She wiped them with the back of her hand in an attempt to pull herself together but her eyes remained disbelieving and fixed on the Count. She had lived the last five years with the 'knowledge' that he was dead. She had spent so many nights crying silently in the darkness, long after her roommates had fallen asleep, believing in her heart that she and Gloria had killed him. There was no word to describe the emotion she felt, it was the most intense feeling of relief mixed with something much darker and more raw. He was alive…Gloria wasn't.

Anderson handed her his handkerchief, a lump forming in his own throat at her obvious distress. She had told him the story of that night as soon as Buzz had called her. He had to admit that when she had started to tell it he had been stunned and anxious in equal measures. That kind of story could do tremendous damage to their case, however by the time she had finished relating her tale he had learned more about her as a person than he had through Blair's endless stories of their time at Eastland. He had learned that Jo Polniaczek was honourable, brave, she inspired great loyalty but also that she was a young woman of great compassion who had done everything in her power to prevent the events that had haunted her every living moment since that fateful night. She may have felt solely responsible for what happened but she had done something truly remarkable too…

'It'll be alright Jo…' he whispered

Then he refocused on Detective Cristo's testimony. There had to be some way of showing the Jury the whole story of that night, a way of making them see the 'real' Jo Polniaczek.

…

Jo moved closer to Delaney, she had to be fast. It was the only way that she could survive this fight. She had to be quicker and smarter than her opponent, she knew that the other girl was most likely stronger than she was and had her height as an advantage meaning Jo had to get in as close as possible without getting stabbed again or slashed. The pain in her shoulder was distracting and she could feel the blood flowing freely from the wound but she didn't allow it to slow her down. She was experienced when it came to fighting, and having a knife was no big deal to her. She had always preferred to fight clean, it somehow felt fairer, but she was well aware that sometimes you had to arm yourself. The Young Diablos had been the last gang in the neighbourhood to begin carrying regularly, and Jo herself had only dug her own knife out of her father's box a month previously. She had never had to use it before now, the mere threat of it had been enough given her reputation. Then again the LCs had stayed out of their way until recently. Delaney was out to make her name and the fact that Eddie Brennan was more interested in Jo than he was in his steady girlfriend had given her all the excuse she had needed to escalate things. The leader of the LCs was well aware that if she defeated Jo Polniaczek she'd be a 'made' woman in the eyes of most of the other gangs. If she beat Jo, she'd be untouchable and she was willing to do anything to make it happen.

Jo had been able to overcome Delaney earlier there was no doubt in her mind she could do so again, she just prayed that she wouldn't have to choose between her life and Delaney's. If she did she wouldn't hesitate, survival was all that mattered now and it was clear by the way the other gang leader was moving, the way she was handling her own switchblade that she had no qualms about killing Jo. It was her sole intention. If she killed Jo the Young Diablos would be lost, not forever but long enough for the LCs to make a hostile takeover of their turf. By the time the gang recovered it would be too late to do much more than mourn their losses. Jo was scared, of course she was, she'd deny it to her dying breath if any of the others ever asked her about it but she wasn't stupid. She didn't want to die. No matter how bad things were for her.

Delaney made another thrust towards her with the blood stained knife, she had a long reach but this time Jo was expecting it and she dropped her right shoulder to narrowly avoid the blow before lashing out towards the other girl and just catching her left side with the tip of her own switchblade causing blood to stain Delaney's white T-Shirt and maroon jacket. Delaney screamed as she tumbled backwards clutching her side in shock and Jo intended to make the most of her advantage; there was no way she could show any weakness now. She didn't want to kill the other gang leader but she needed to make sure the older girl wouldn't be coming after her again anytime soon. Her entire body was shaking with fear and adrenaline; she swallowed back the bitterness forming in her throat... she couldn't believe what she was about to do. The thought of killing someone, even Delaney, was sickening. It went against everything she believed. She was signing her passport to hell if she did this, but if she didn't she'd be the one on her way to those gates and she wasn't willing to risk that. She was too young to die, she had so much to live for, even if sometimes it didn't feel that way, and she couldn't afford to back away from this. If she did the other Diablos would lose trust in her, her reputation would be in tatters and she'd be a sitting target for anyone looking to make a name for themself. If she didn't finish Delaney off she was sealing her own fate. She hesitated for only a moment before willing herself to strike…just as she was about to kick the other girl though and send her crashing to the ground again she felt strong arms around her forcing her backwards and away from her target… she kicked and lashed out trying to break free but the grip was too tight, too strong. One of the other LCs must have seen her! Why the hell had she hesitated like that? Now she was the target, she'd be dead before she could say a word… All she could hear through the pounding of her own heart in her ears was shouting, cursing and the sounds of fighting. It was a distinctive, eerie sound when such huge numbers were involved and it was impossible to tell who had the upper hand. In a desperate bid to escape she threw her arm up, catching whoever held her in the face, her assailant grunted in pain but never let go, whoever it was they were strong, she was willing to bet it was one of the Wolves! He smelled like strong cologne and then she caught a glimpse of his dark shirt and that clinched it for her – this was no Wolf, he was a cop! She was about to be dragged to the 41st and that meant Juvie. She may not be about to die but that was cold comfort to her, she'd done enough in her time that if she was arrested she'd be going away. She'd be no better than her father. She yelled to the Diablos to get away from there, at least if she could save them she'd be doing something right, and in that moment the course of her life and that of her two closest friends was forever altered.

Upon hearing Jo's cries Jessie, still slugging it out with one of the LCs, called to Gloria to help their desperate friend who was struggling to break free. The blonde, newly acquired empty beer bottle in hand rushed to Jo's aid and in a move that defied logic or explanation smashed it directly over the Count's head. The Count, who had seen the move coming instinctively let go of Jo in order to shield himself from the blow but he wasn't quick enough to block the move completely and so while the brunt of the force was taken to the side of his head causing a huge gash to appear instantly, blood spurting with tremendous force, the rest of the broken bottle sliced downwards and embedded itself in his exposed forearm, hand and wrist causing blood to immediately gush from the wounds at an alarming rate. Jo slipped away from him as he slumped, unconscious to the ground, the remains of the bottle smashing in a surprisingly loud manner given the rush of noise surrounding them as gang members began running from the cops who were now arriving en masse. There was so much chaos that none of the other cops noticed their fallen comrade, not one cop realised the danger the Count was in…

…

'The last thing I remember is hitting the ground. I woke up in hospital a week later. They said I was lucky to be alive, I don't know who it was but someone saved my life that night… It took me months to recover the use of my arm, when I did they transferred me out. I didn't return to the 41st until a few weeks ago.'

'What happened to Miss Polniaczek?'

'She was sentenced to be detained in a juvenile detention centre for three months for assaulting Delaney during the rumble.'

'Objection your honor, this information is not a matter of public record…'

'Sustained. The Jury will disregard that last piece of information and it will be removed from the transcripts of the trial.'

Even with the instructions to the Jury the damage had been done. Bryant was triumphant as he looked to them; he could see that many of them were starting to believe that Jo Polniaczek was every bit as dangerous and unpredictable as Brock claimed.

'Thank you Detective. I have no further questions for you at this time.'

…

Anderson knew that he would have to tread carefully with this witness. He had to show the Jury that while Jo had been every bit as bad as he said she was there was more to that night than Detective Cristo knew. When all was said and done he needed to show the Jury that far from being a one dimensional villain bent on destruction even the young Jo was a more complex individual with a moral code of conduct that she would never go against.

There wasn't much that Anderson could do about Jo's past. She had been the leader of the Young Diablos, a founding member and she had committed several crimes during the time she was involved with them. The young Jo had, politely put, been wild and untameable. She had been out of control after her father had abandoned her and even those she had been closest to, her babcia, her grandfather, her mother, even her uncle Sal had been unable to get through to her. She had felt nothing but pain which manifested itself as pure anger when Charlie had disappeared and then when he had been sent to prison that pain had intensified. Jo had done anything in her power to dull the pain, to feel alive and so she had surrounded herself with friends who she trusted and together they had done their level best to take over the neighbourhood, they had fought against other gangs and they had come out on top for the most part. Despite that though Jo had never been a 'bad' kid, she had always operated according to a strong code of honour that even the cops who tried to put her away had to acknowledge. Anderson managed to get Cristo talking about that side of Jo, the side that wouldn't allow an elderly person to be targeted by any member of her gang and had fought, on more than one occasion, with members of rival gangs who had targeted the vulnerable in her neighbourhood. The one who relied on her fists rather than a weapon when it came to a dispute, she had a reputation for fighting with rival gang leaders but on the streets of her own neighbourhood she had never committed a violent act without provocation, and even then she had never hit anyone who wasn't affiliated with a gang, none of the Young Diablos had. Not even when they were stealing from vendors or vandalising property. It just wasn't done. Cristo respected that, all of the cops had even if they knew it couldn't last. Under Jo Polniaczek's leadership the Young Diablos may have been thieves and vandals but they weren't mindless thugs. Having established that fact Anderson moved on to the aftermath of that night.

'Detective Cristo, when your fellow officers discovered you in the park can you tell me what they found?'

'I was in a bad way, but someone had tried to patch me up, they had used a belt as a tourniquet on my arm…'

'Do you know who it was that helped you?'

'No idea sir, but as I say whoever it was I owe him my life.'

'Tell me detective why is it that up until today my client believed that you were dead?'

'It was an advantage to be 'dead', I've been undercover since I recovered, fastest way to make detective…'

'Thank you detective, I have no further questions for now…'

…

In the witness room Blair was having trouble dealing with their isolation. She was frantically worried especially since she hadn't heard anything from her uncle or Jo since that morning. She knew that they couldn't speak to her, they couldn't influence her while the trial was 'live' and that any news she got would have to wait until court was adjourned for the day but that knowledge didn't make it any better. Nat and Tootie had reached their limit in terms of panic and for the last hour had simply sat side by side staring into space muttering occasional worries but conversation between them was now stilted at best. The doctor was sitting at a table reading a novel; apparently used to waiting like this. Blair had on the other hand taken Nat's place pacing furiously and looking out of the window. Her behaviour was no doubt making the other girls more nervous but that didn't matter now, what mattered was that she felt she would explode if she didn't get some sign that things were going to be alright for Jo. She hadn't been this afraid since the night before her parents' divorce, something that she couldn't stop thinking about while she was stuck in this room. They had made her wait in a similar room while they juked it out in court then, the feelings of helplessness she had experienced came back a hundred times more strongly now. She was shocked from her pacing however when she heard the door to the room opening and a woman she had met only twice in her life, once at Jo's grandmother's funeral and on one previous occasion too long ago to quite believe, walked through apprehension apparent on her face…Blair was about to say something but was saved the trouble when the other woman spoke.

'Back off Farrah, I ain't in the mood for pleasantries…'

The other woman then sat heavily on a nearby chair, separating herself from the rest of the group. Her posture told them she really hated being there, her eyes told them she needed to be. Blair looked to her once more, she had never thought she'd see Jo's friend in a skirt but there she was wearing a simple skirt suit and looking suitably serious for the occasion. The blonde had always been jealous of the closeness between her delinquent and this woman. Even if they hardly saw each other now, there was something in their friendship that Blair envied. It was a part of Jo that she would never be privy to and as such from the moment she had met the other girl she had put on a front of disdain. Now however that seemed so foolish. If this woman could help Jo, if whatever she could say was going to make things easier, then that was all that mattered. She wished she had treated her better when they first met but she had been with Dina, she had been showing off. She wasn't sure what to say and the newcomer didn't appear to want to talk anyway so she went back to her pacing.

'For Christ's sake Blondie, sit on yer ass will ya?'

Blair ignored her and continued pacing.

…

Bryant wasn't the only one who could dig up surprise witnesses. The first of Anderson's witnesses was a surprise to everyone, including Jo. Jessica Wright, Jo's childhood best friend had been a backup witness that Anderson had never expected to use. As such she had not turned up at court until that afternoon. It had taken her the best part of the day to get there but she hadn't let them down. She couldn't let Jo down. They had been friends for too long and had been through too much together. Jessie placed her hand on the Bible and swore the now familiar oath, she hated courtrooms but she was here to help. Just like she had when she had discovered that the Count was on the witness list.

'Miss Wright, what is your relationship to Joanna Marie Polniaczek?'

'We've been friends since we were kids; we went to school together before she got her scholarship to Eastland.'

'You were one of the founding members of the Young Diablos?'

'Yeah, Jo and I started the gang with our best friend Gloria…'

'Why?'

'We were sick of taking beatings. We needed to protect ourselves and it seemed like the best way.'

'Why pick Jo as your leader?'

'She's the strongest and most honourable person I ever met.'

Jessie looked directly at Jo as she said it, she meant every word. Jo had always stood out from the crowd; she had always been destined for great things. Everyone in their neighbourhood could see it.

'Miss Wright, would you please recount what happened on the night of February 22nd 1980…'

So Jessie told them everything and in doing so faced her own demons.

…

Jo stood in awe of what they had just done, Gloria tried to get her to move but she was stunned by the wounds her friend had inflicted on the young cop. He wasn't much older than they were; maybe his early twenties and they had almost certainly killed him. Jo dropped to her knees beside him; it wasn't supposed to be like this. What the hell were they going to do now? She wanted to scream, to cry and to throw up in sheer despair. Instead she remained silent and unmoving, trying to figure out how to make this right.

'Jo! Come on!'

This time it was Jessie who was trying to pull Jo away from the scene. If they were found here they were screwed, they had to get out of there, and they had to hide. If they ran now there was a chance they could skip town before the cops realised who had killed him. If they ran now they'd be safe. Jo was having none of it though and pulled away from her friend.

'We can't leave him like this!'

'He's dead Jo you can't do nothin for him…'

'I ain't leavin him!' Jo's voice cracked in desperation, she couldn't leave him lying there like that.

Jessie and Gloria couldn't believe what they were hearing. Their best friend had gone crazy – there was nothing they could do and staying around here would be tantamount to turning themselves in. Jessie tried once more to pull Jo away from the scene but she pushed her away, remaining on her knees beside the unconscious cop.

'Have you lost your mind?!'

'There are cops everywhere!'

'He ain't dead yet, we let this cop die and that's it for us, we'll be hunted like goddamned dogs!'

'We can run…'

'Christ Jess where we gonna run ta?' Neither girl had ever heard their friend speak like this, she was so angry, so terrified 'Who the hell's gonna take us in once they know we killed a cop?'

There was more to it than that. Both Gloria and Jessie knew it. Jo may be tougher than anyone else in their neighbourhood but she had a pure conscience. She wasn't about to let this man, a man who was simply doing his job, who likely had a wife and kids, die tonight. It wouldn't have mattered if he was a cop or a homeless drunk, in her mind she just couldn't allow him to die. To have that death on her conscience knowing she had done nothing to prevent it would destroy her. Jo acted quickly, removing the brown leather belt from her jeans – a belt which had belonged to her cousin and contained the initials PL – Paulie Largo. She had only worn it tonight in case she lost her switchblade, it was amazing the damage a person could do with a belt. She pulled at the Count's sleeve until it ripped, allowing her to use the belt as a tourniquet, she tightened I as much as she could, her hands, arms and shirt were instantly covered in deep red blood. She had seen her uncle Sal do this one time when Bud had sliced his arm open after a motorcycle had fallen on him in the garage, it had been the only thing her uncle could do for him before he could drive him to hospital. The doctors had told them later it was the only reason that Bud hadn't died that day. She doubted whether it would make a difference here, there was far more blood, more than she had ever seen in her life, and the cop had a head injury too, but she had to do something. Taking the tape she always carried she ripped a large piece and used it to attach part of the ripped shirt sleeve to the gash on his head, it wasn't much – she was no doctor – but it was better than nothing. She just couldn't leave him here to die without doing everything in her power to save him.

The park was getting quieter now; the gangs had dispersed closely followed by cops. Jessie and Gloria watched in awe as their friend worked, Jo didn't really know what she was doing, she didn't know exactly how it was going to work out but they had to admire her for trying, even if they didn't entirely understand why…

…

'Jo Polniaczek is the one who saved Detective Cristo's life that night?'

'Yeah…she couldn't leave him there. When we thought he'd died…' the emotions were getting to be too much for Jessie, her voice gave a little and she looked forlorn as she remembered.

Jo could feel her eyes welling up with tears once more, especially when she heard Jessie's voice begin to give up on her, but she willed herself not to cry again. It was so overwhelming to think that she had saved him, that his death wasn't on her conscience. It was one less death for her to worry about. Hearing her childhood friend telling the story made it all the more emotional, it made her think about how close they had been, it made her think about Gloria.

'What did you do when you found out he was 'dead'?'

'Our friend Gloria couldn't live with it, she committed suicide after we found out… Jo and I were sent to Juvie…'

'Do you believe Jo Polniaczek would attack someone in a fit of rage?'

'No way. She's only ever fought someone if they attacked her first.'

'Objection your honor, the witness has no idea what Miss Polniaczek would do on any given day…'

'Sustained…Try to stick to facts Mr Anderson…'

'Yes your honor. Miss Wright, in all of the years you've known her have you ever seen Miss Polniaczek throw the first punch in a fight?'

'No sir. I've never seen her throw the first punch, Jo stands her ground but she never attacks first. I've never seen her lose though...If this rich kid Worthington thought he'd get the better of her he's more stupid than he looks…'

Jessie's remark drew laughter from some of the Jury who were bewildered by what they had heard. Bryant had shown them that Jo was a calculating thug, but here was another so called 'thug' and the story she told had confused them. If what she was saying was true then Jo, far from being a villain, had proven to be an unlikely hero, risking everything to save the life of a cop who most gang members would have left to die. The image they were left with did not gel with their assumptions and many shifted uncomfortably, uncertain what to think.

Jessie withstood the cross examination well, she was disdainful of Bryant but she answered his questions and kept her cool. Yes Jo had been a leader of a powerful street gang, yes they had committed crimes that they should be ashamed of but they hadn't been the vicious hoodlums that Bryant was making them out to be. She explained their 'code' set in stone by Jo who ensured that anyone in the Young Diablos who committed a violent act against the innocents of the neighbourhood was ostracized by the gang. Bryant found her to be a particularly frustrating witness.

…

It had turned dark by the time they had finally made it back home.

After Jessie's testimony Judge Evans-Morgan had deemed it a prudent time to adjourn for the evening. Jo had been stunned by the pace of the trial, by the most emotionally charged moments of her life being bared for all to see. She had always been a fiercely private person and it left her feeling intensely vulnerable. It wasn't clear to her what the Jury thought of it all but she dreaded having to face her friends now that they had heard the truth of that night. It had been the driving force behind her Ma pushing her to go to Eastland, the nightmares that haunted her had been one of the reasons she had taken the entrance exam willingly. She had wanted so much for her Ma to look at her with something other than pity or fury. She had never told her the full story, even when Gloria had died she had played it close to her chest. Rose Polniaczek had tried everything she could think of to get Jo to talk to her about it but the result was always stony silence or a stormy exit followed by a slammed door.

Jo and the others had sworn an oath that they would never again speak of that night or its aftermath. Buzz, who had just started dating Gloria at the time, had also sworn the oath in a bid to protect his beloved girlfriend's reputation; Gloria's death had hit him particularly hard even if he hid his pain behind wisecracks. The only exception to their vow of silence occurred each year on the anniversary of their friend's death, it was a time when no matter what else happened Jo, Buzz and Jessie would get together and pay tribute to her. It had been difficult for Jo to get home with her having little money to spare but she always made sure she had saved enough to get home for that. It had been the reason that Jessie had been so forgiving that night in the community centre when they had fought over spray painting the mural, their ties were stronger than blood and such differences were easily forgiven. They had met Buzz shortly after that fight, sitting on the roof of Jo's former high school toasting Gloria's memory, each wrapped up in their own guilt and pain. That was something that hadn't been covered in this trial so far, the nightmarish guilt that Jo had felt because of everything that transpired that night. The knowledge that had she been smarter or faster things would have turned out differently for everyone concerned. Sitting in the courtroom their story had been told in vivid detail to a roomful of strangers who understood the mechanics but most probably missed the deeper, emotionally charged aftermath, more importantly however Jo's mother finally knew the truth. She finally knew what it was about that particular fight that had made Jo suffer endless nightmares, why she had come home from work to find her daughter in the bathroom throwing up so violently that Rose had forced her to a doctor only to be told that physically there was nothing wrong. More importantly however she now understood why Jo had been so relieved to be punished for her actions that night and why her only child had been so surprised at the leniency of her sentence.

After dinner, which she had barely touched, Jo had immediately distanced herself from the others. Especially Blair, she wasn't sure how to explain what she felt. She hadn't ever wanted to have to tell Blair that she had been a murderer, even if she hadn't killed the Count; she was still responsible for Gloria's death. Nothing could change that.

Her mind was racing, her head pounding and she was finding it hard to take everything in and so she had retreated to the driveway and the safety of 'shooting hoops'. It was something that had always brought her solace, even in the days after Gloria's death. In those dark days she had vacillated between Confession at St Leonard's and basketball. She moved quickly, jumping, dodging and shooting as if she was really on a court and her opponents were trying to defend. She had no idea how long she had spent outside but the white, number 33, basketball jersey she had changed into was now sticking to her back as she made each movement, each shot. Even in the dim streetlight her bare shoulders glistened as she moved faster with surprising grace. She was tired, a mental tiredness that couldn't be ignored but she could work through that with the physical exertion of the game as she ordered her thoughts. If she did that then she would be ready to face the others, to face Blair. The relief she felt at knowing that the Count was alive was counteracted by the testimony he had delivered. He rightly blamed her for what had happened to him that night, and he had had no idea that she had been the one who saved him. She hoped that with that knowledge he would be able to forgive her for the events of that night. Her thoughts strayed to Gloria; her friend just hadn't been able to live with the guilt. For all of their toughness, for all that they had seen in their lives none of them had been prepared for something like that. She was so engrossed in her thoughts, so focused on the sounds of the ball hitting the backboard and landing on concrete with a satisfying bounce that it took her a few minutes to realise she was no longer alone. She caught the ball smoothly, resting it against her side as she turned to face her observer.

'Joey…'

'Princess… I'm sorry, I just needed ta…'

Blair had been watching Jo play through the kitchen window. She had been mesmerised, as she always was, and finally had been unable to resist stepping outside into the cool night air to watch her delinquent more closely. She had always watched Jo, without revealing that she was doing so, and there was something immensely empowering in the fact that now she didn't have to hide. She was free to admire the beautiful brunette without having to pretend she wasn't or think of some plausible excuse...like the 'last year's jeans' incident. She cringed inwardly at the thought of that one! Tonight another reason had found her watching Jo – she was deeply concerned by her behaviour since they had returned home even though she had expected it.

'I know sweetheart, I'm worried about you.'

'I'm fine babe, really… it's just a helluva lot ta process…'

Blair's heart swelled at the use of the endearment, one that had it come from anyone else she would have hated on principal but coming from Jo it felt right somehow. The night was colder now and Blair shivered a little, she had only meant to come out for a minute and so had left her jacket behind.

'Princess, you're cold…'

'I'm fine sweetheart, really…'

The echo of her own words caused Jo to shake her head and smile a little.

'No yer not, c'mere…' she rolled the ball away towards the garage and offered her hands to her girl.

Blair took the proffered hands happily and found herself pulled into a warm embrace, she had been afraid that with the pressure of the trial Jo would distance herself completely. She had worried that maybe they wouldn't be strong enough to get through this together. She was relieved to find that for now at least she had been wrong about that.

'Mrs G. tell ya what happened?'

'Some of it, she says there are some things that I need to hear from you…'

'She's right…promise ya won't think badly of me Blair?'

'Of course I won't…I lo…you mean the very world to me Joey…'

Jo noticed the slip but chose not to say anything; she knew exactly what her debutante was feeling. She felt it too, but now wasn't the time for such things. Instead she took a deep breath, and she related the story she had dreaded to tell, that of February 22nd 1980 and the subsequent aftermath. She held Blair close as she spoke and the blonde held her comfortingly in return, the story told in an almost whisper as Blair rested her head on Jo's shoulder and listened carefully to each word…