The Broken Road

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Euphoria. It seemed to come straight from within his very soul and radiated all the way throughout him. Jim stretched out a long arm, brought it back to rest around the source of his happiness, and hugged her to his side. In sleep, she responded with a small breathless sort of a hum and burrowed into him. He rubbed his chin against the top of her head, relished the feel of the silky soft curls, and breathed in the sweet smell of her. A lazy grin tinged with an undue amount of male satisfaction flittered across his lips. He reached for a curl and gently ran a finger down the length of it, all the while reflecting back on the wonders of their night together. Easily, it was the best one he'd ever spent. It hadn't ended with the rising of the sun, either. Small cat naps here and there, intermingled with whispered conversations and shared laughs, had served as an extremely welcome and effective source of rejuvenation for more pleasurable pursuits.

Curious about the time, he flicked a glance towards the alarm clock. The bright blue numbers glared back the unyielding truth. 1:38. In the afternoon. Stunned, Jim rubbed his eyes to be sure he wasn't reading the clock wrong. Yep. Despite the fact that he'd clearly thought otherwise, they were well into the afternoon portion of the day. He flopped back against the rumpled pillows, shot one more look at the beauty slumbering away besides him. She didn't stir. Breath still came in and out, in a gentle, even rhythm, proving that she wasn't ready to awaken yet. Not that he could blame her. They'd put in an extremely active night.

A loud chirp rang out, startling him out of an enjoyable reverie. Not having any desire to check out the source of the incoming text, Jim turned his back on it. Watching Trixie was infinitely more interesting. Touching her was even better. He tenderly traced her cheekbone with the back of his fingertips. When the chirp sounded again a mere thirty seconds later, he lifted his head and aimed a fierce scowl in the direction of the offending noise. With a deep sigh of regret, he reluctantly gave in to the inevitable. Someone obviously wanted to get into contact with him. He had a pretty good idea who it was, too.

Pushing back the covers with a groan, he stumbled his way towards the source of the sound, grumbling the entire way because he'd had to give up his warm spot next to her, completely unconcerned with the state of his lack of apparel. He kicked away one of his black shoes, grinned with dark delight at the white panties lying on top of his other one, and finally found his cell phone, hidden underneath his hastily discarded pants from the night before and her strapless bra. After tossing his wallet to a nearby table, he glanced down at his cell. Sure enough, there were two shiny, brand new texts. Mentally prepared for a good amount of cellular ribbing, he called up the first one.

2:30. No longer. Dan was nothing if not concise, Jim thought with a low sigh. It could have been much worse, especially considering the terse text he'd sent off the previous night. He checked the next one. Even shorter and sweeter. Three words only. I mean it. Jim typed back a non-family-friendly response to their fellow Bob-White and hit send without a moment's hesitation. He ran a hand through his hair as his earlier euphoria started to evaporate. As much as he despised it, as much as he wished that he could prevent the impossible from happening, they were definitely coming up on the end of their private time together. Damn. It sucked. He approached the bed and gave himself one more chance to look upon his girl. She was definitely out, didn't appear to want to wake anytime soon. The covers were rumpled around her, pleasingly so, hiding a few of her more than desirable assets from his fiercely wandering eyes. A little smile played across his lips. Catching her hand, he gave it a small squeeze before he half-heartedly turned away and hurried into the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later found him showered, dressed, and ready to face the rest of the day. With red hair still damp, he strolled back out, pulling his polo shirt on along the way. An inner debate waged only for a minute before he sat down on the edge of the bed. Although he didn't want to wake her up, he gently cupped her shoulder and gave her a tiny shake. He didn't have a choice. She needed to know about their time limit. "Trixie," he whispered; quietly, firmly. When he didn't get a response, he tried again, only louder this time. "Trixie."

A low, raspy murmur was his only answer. Ignoring his body's immediate response to the sweetly sexy sound, he cleared his throat and tried yet again. Leaning over, he put a hand on her waist and another on the bed and spoke her name with more insistence, "Trix. Come on. It's time to wake up."

Slowly, her eyelids fluttered. Once. Twice. It took three times before they were fully opened. An incredibly gentle expression on her face, one full of feminine secrets and sensuous remnants of their night, she automatically covered his hand with hers and smiled brilliantly when he laced his fingers through hers. "G'morning, Jim," she greeted him, her voice as low and raspy as her earlier murmur had been.

God, he was a goner. Absolutely and totally. Even her softly-uttered morning greeting was arousing to him. He briefly contemplated how much time they had…seriously so, until his cell chirped brightly for a third time, an obvious reminder from Dan that he meant business and that the clock was ticking down their precious remaining minutes. Hiding his frustration, he leaned down and pressed what was supposed to be a quick kiss but ended up turning into a long, lingering one on her lips. Pulling back slightly, he murmured against her cheek, his warm breath teasing her skin, "Good afternoon, Trixie."

Her smile dropped comically off her face. "Afternoon?" she squeaked out and sat up, looking wildly around for the clock. The covers worked against her. Remembering at the very last moment that she was totally unclothed underneath, she made a mad grab to keep them in place, much to his unconcealed amusement, and eyed him with a wary expression on her face.

"It's after two," he informed her, watching with male pleasure as she struggled to tame the covers. She wasn't as successful as she'd liked to have been, which only pleased him more. A light that could only be termed predatory shone deeply from his eyes while he committed the sight to memory.

"You've got to be joking," she said, squeezing her eyes shut and pressing the rumpled assortment of blankets around her chest. She cracked one blurry blue eye open. "It can't be the afternoon already." There was the tiniest hesitation before she asked, "Can it?"

"I'm not joking, Trix." He dropped his hand from her waist and placed it on her thigh. Looking her squarely in the face, he added, "It seems that somehow we…ah…managed to lose track of the time last night. And this morning," he added with his famous lopsided grin, telling her plainly that he didn't mind losing track of the time at all.

Amazingly enough, she didn't flush. She didn't drop her gaze from his, either. A night full of extremely invigorating extra-curricular activities made her much more secure, both in her body and in her relationship with him. Feeling astonishingly happy, wonderfully serene, she squeezed his hand and remarked dryly, "I can't imagine why."

Jim let out a startled bark of laughter, surprised and very pleased with her response. He hadn't known what to expect from her. Finding her comfortable around him was a boon he hadn't counted on. "Me, either," he responded, using his other hand to cup her cheek.

She turned into the touch, unconsciously letting out a little sigh that nearly broke the impossibly thin rein he held over his remaining control. Nearly purring, she stated quietly, "It was a good night, wasn't it?"

"Not good. Great," he corrected and waggled his eyebrows. "With the added benefit of an extremely invigorating morning, too. Don't you think?"

She did color prettily then. Remembering a few of the more…adventurous things they had done, especially after they'd become very, very, very familiar with each other again, she took her time before agreeing, "The best."

He couldn't help it. He had to do it. He moved in for a kiss and drew it out as long as he could stand it before reluctantly drawing back. With his breath coming in ragged pants, he finally informed her, "We've been given a deadline, Trix. We have until 2:30." Regret laced his tone.

Her shoulders drooped. Dropping her gaze, she played with the edge of the covers. "I see." One quick glance, one even quicker calculation that would have impressed the hell out of her high school math teachers, proved that they didn't have much time left at all. Twenty minutes. If it wasn't for the fact that they'd have two dragons bearing down on them at any possibly moment, she'd seriously consider...but, no. It wasn't to be. Not yet, anyway. "You're already dressed," she noted with some surprise, finally moving beyond his face. He was looking exceptionally handsome in his forest green shirt and worn blue jeans. Her fingers itched to touch him.

"And showered and everything." Loving the silky feel of her skin underneath his hand, he trailed along, starting at her shoulder and ending with her hand. "I'll head them off at the pass, if you'd like. It'll give you a little more time to get ready." He gave one last squeeze and slowly rose from the bed, ruthlessly squashing the thoughts of what he'd like to be doing right now.

Through wide eyes Trixie watched him stand up. It was stupid to feel bereft of his presence, especially since she knew he had to leave and she had to get ready, but she felt that way nonetheless. It was just there, proving to her beyond anything that her feelings for the man ran extremely deep. All the way through her soul, if she didn't miss her guess. With a voice raspy again but for an extremely different reason, she said, "I'll be out as soon as I can."

The same feelings were assaulting him, for the exact same reason. He halted. He couldn't leave. At least, not yet. He whirled around, made it back to the bed, and pulled her up, right into his arms, and chuckled when the covers finally eluded her grasp. "Take all the time you need," he muttered before hungry lips claimed hers.

"Gleeps!" she exclaimed after he let her go. "Now that's a wonderful way to start the day." She impatiently pushed back a handful of hair, blissfully unaware that she was completely uncovered from the waist up, and gifted him with a peaceful smile.

"And we're down to about seventeen minutes," Jim muttered, unable to look anywhere but at the blonde beauty staring back at him through dazed and delighted eyes.

Moving forward, she rested her head on his chest and let out a tiny purr of contentment. "One more minute ought to do it."

"It won't," he declared into her halo of golden curls. He brushed them back, unsure if he was soothing himself or her with the movement. Most likely a combination of both. "But it's all we've got right now."

She rubbed her cheek against the cotton of his shirt before dropping back against the pillows where it suddenly occurred to her that it would much easier for her to get out of bed if he wasn't in the room. After all, he was dressed and she was not and the daylight was nothing if not harsh. "I guess I'll…um…shower and all and meet you out there…um…soon."

He watched the blasted pink pigment start to trail over her face. It took only a second to clue into the fact that she was embarrassed. It took a longer one for him to figure out why. His eyebrows shot up. "What are you waiting for?" he asked with a sham expression of boyish innocence on his face.

Her mouth bowed open before a loud giggle erupted from her throat. "As if you didn't know," she laughed, hitting him on the shoulder. She felt extremely comfortable with him but, the act of walking from the bed to the bathroom, completely nude, was, well, rather disconcerting for her. Then she glanced down. A loud gasp emitted past shocked lips when she saw how much of her was already on display at the moment. Hurriedly, she grabbed the covers and pulled them back up, her face much redder than it had been a few moments earlier.

Deciding he didn't want to tease her, he pushed himself back off the bed without making any of the increasingly suggestive comments that sprang to mind. "I'll be waiting," he said gruffly before leaving her. One last glance firmly etched the picture of her in his mind. He left the room, feeling as if he'd left part of his heart behind him, and fervently wishing they had just had a little more time together. Automatically, he dropped his cell phone on the table in the living room that was littered with all of Trixie's items from her purse, whistling an extremely cheerful but nameless sort of a tune, and made his way into the kitchen where he started brewing a fresh pot of coffee. They were going to need it. Although he felt strangely energized after the most remarkable night of his life, he understood that caffeine could help give him the extra kick he needed to make it through the rest of the day.

A steaming mug in hand, Jim wandered back into the living room, the same merry tune on his lips and visions of Trixie dancing before his eyes. When he heard a phone ring, he reached for it without thinking and caught it up quickly, expecting it to be an amused Dan on the other end informing him of their dwindling time. With an eye towards the hallway and inventive imaginings of what Trixie was currently doing taking a stranglehold of his mind, he answered abruptly, "Yeah? What is it now?"

"Jim?" a familiar, feminine and very puzzled voice on the other end questioned. "Is that you?"

His eyebrows immediately shot up. Honey? Why the hell was she calling him? It only proved how strongly his Vegas vacation was affecting him. He couldn't figure out why she'd want to call him. Flushing, he attempted to cover up his rather rude greeting. Glancing up at the ceiling as if in search of a divine intervention that was destined not to come, he mumbled out a barely articulate, "Honey."

"Yeah….well…" Honey stopped herself before she started stammering. A small frown settled on her forehead. She shook her head in bewilderment and pulled back her phone to stare at it in shock.

"Hey, you don't sound too happy there," Jim gently chided and leaned against the sliding glass door, feeling more at ease now. The picturesque Nevada sky captured his attention. Gorgeous and never-ending blue, with a few white puffy clouds floating by. A large sun spread its warm rays, touching everything on the ground. Postcard perfect. "Remember. You're the one who called me."

Honey bit her lip. He was wrong. She hadn't called him. At least, she hadn't meant to if she had called him. Wait…no, she decided after a moment, ending her internal argument with herself. There was no way she could have misdialed. And if she had misdialed, there was absolutely no way she would have mistaken Jim's name for Trixie's on her contacts list. Too many names resided between them. No, she thought again, this time with a definitive nod. She'd definitely used Trixie's cell phone number. She was certain of it. But that just left one interesting and very perplexing question. Why was her brother answering Trixie's cell?

"Honey?" Jim prompted as the silence stretched on. He took a sip of his coffee. "Are you still there?"

"Yeah. I'm still here," she responded slowly while her mind started to work, gaining in force and volume, as she attempted to puzzle out the problem. Only two possibilities were possible. Either she really had misdialed and called up the wrong number, which she'd already decided wasn't all that likely, or… Her lovely eyes doubled in size. The or was much more tantalizing than a mere mistake on her part. Using the sharp instincts honed by helping solve mystery after mystery during her teenage years, she settled back on the comfortable wicker loveseat, daintily crossed one ankle over the other, and toed off her work shoes. She prepared to see if she could reel him in with a wide smile on her face. "I did make the phone call." She paused before purring out, "Didn't I?"

Confused, Jim inclined his head to the side, taken aback by the whole conversation. It seemed so…odd. "Of course you did," he answered slowly, wondering if his sister had been working too hard. She sounded strained or something. "Honey? Are you all right? Have you been feeling well? You don't sound quite like yourself."

"Oh, you don't need to worry about me. I'm fine. Perfectly perfect, as I like to say," she hastened to assure him, waving a gentle hand through the air that he couldn't see. All the while an odd sort of glimmer shone out of her hazel eyes, making them appear more like a big cat on the hunt than the sweet-natured sister she actually was. "I found myself with a few spare moments before my wonderful husband returned home from work. He's such a dedicated doctor, you know. So I thought to myself that it would be a terrific idea if I'd give my wonderful full-blooded adopted brother a call to see how he's doing."

He missed the extra emphasis she put on the recipient of her phone call, as well as the slightly sarcastic bent to her statement. As the confusion started to leave, he took another sip and smiled, an honest to goodness smile, never once suspecting the path Honey's thoughts were on or the mistake he'd unintentionally made. "I always love hearing from you, Honey. Any time. So, what's up? How's everything in Sleepyside?"

"Sleepyside's Sleepyside," she remarked with a small roll of the shoulder. "It's been pretty quiet here. The biggest thing we're working on is Di's baby shower, which is coming up at the end of the summer. But enough about that. I'm sure it's much more exciting out where you are." It had to be. It just had to be. All ears, she leaned forward. "What have you been doing to keep yourself busy?"

Memories of the very recent activities he'd participated in flashed before his eyes. Somehow, he didn't think any of them would be acceptable to share with his sister. "Oh, a little of this," he mumbled, cursing the fact that his cheeks were flaming despite the fact that she couldn't see him.

"And a little of that," Honey finished for him with a charming giggle.

He managed a non-committal sort of a sound. Giving her as much of the truth as he could, he offered up the understatement of the year, "So far my vacation's been a good one."

"Cool. It's great to know that Vegas has agreed with you. I know you weren't exactly excited about going there in the first place." Honey tapped an insistent foot against the floorboard of her porch. How she would have loved to have been there, questioning him in person. She wouldn't have been able to let him get away with so much. Cellular lines didn't offer the same interviewing experience as a face-to-face interrogation would have. She blew out a breath, tucked back a stray strand of her honey-colored hair, and prepared for the next round. As innocently as possible, already aware of whom he had to have run into, she inquired brightly, "Have you seen anyone from Sleepyside?"

He choked. "What?" he stammered out after regaining control from his coughing fit.

She may not have had the luxury of being there in person but she heard the truth in his voice. He was guilty. And it wasn't because he'd run into Dan. With as much sweetness as she could muster she tossed him a line, all the while wishing she could ask about the person she really wanted to inquire about, "Dan, Jim. I mean Dan. Have you seen him yet?"

With his mind focused on one person and one person only, Jim completely forgot that Dan had contacted Honey right after he'd arrived in Las Vegas. "Dan?" he repeated, feeling like an absolute idiot. "Why are you asking me about Dan?"

Oh, something was definitely up. It was rare to hear her brother so rattled. Making a mental note to get in touch with Dan as soon as she finished her talk with Jim, she said in what she hoped was a pleasant, disarming tone, "Daniel Mangan. Nephew of Regan, our talented groom. Fellow Bob-White. One of our best friends. Tall, dark, handsome."

"I don't know about the handsome part," Jim grumbled under his breath, causing his sister to giggle. He put down his mug and wiped away the small splatter of coffee on his shirt.

She took a deep breath. In true Honey-fashion, the words tumbled out, rapid-fire and quick. "Dan texted me the other day. He needed some help. You know, he was looking for you at your hotel but couldn't find your real name under the reservations. He didn't know that our mother always makes reservations under her maiden name so I sent back the actual name Mother made your reservations under." When Jim didn't respond, she blew out an annoyed breath and persisted, "Dan met up with you. Right?"

Thinking it was much better to admit to having one Bob-White nearby but not two, he admitted in a barely audible voice, "We've seen each other."

Honey pushed herself out of the wicker chair and started pacing along her back porch, all the while wondering what the hell was going on in Vegas. Something was up. Something big. She was sure of it. And that something involved her brother, Dan and the woman she'd intended to call. Her pacing brought her to the French doors. Scowling, she peered at the calendar pinned to the far wall of her kitchen. She had half a mind to join them in Las Vegas but one look at her busy week, as well as her husband's, derailed that particular train of thought. Although she didn't want to, she'd have to settle for phone interrogations…and as many as it took to get the best, most informative answers. Wondering what else she could get out of her annoyingly tight-lipped brother, she murmured, "I bet having Dan around has certainly livened things up."

Jim ambled his way towards the bar. After slipping onto a stool, in perfect view of the doorway, he considered her innocent statement. Dan's arrival certainly had livened things up. Not quite in the way Honey meant but…without his impromptu insertion into their Vegas vacation, he highly doubted if the events of the past twenty-four hours would have occurred. A small grin graced his face. He'd have to remember to thank his friend for showing up. "You could say that again."

Daniel Mangan was going to have to be more forthcoming than her brother. He was simply going to have to be. She wouldn't accept anything less. Hiding her burgeoning frustrations beneath her sweet demeanor, Honey went on the attack again. "Well, besides a little of this and a little of that, what exactly have you been doing?"

"Poker. Casinos. Restaurants." Jim shrugged his shoulder, unwilling to go into details. He couldn't. Because the entirety of his time in Vegas centered around the one person he'd rather not talk about with his sister right now. Impatiently, he glanced towards the doorway again, wondering when his girl would show up. Hell, he missed her.

"Have you gone to the restaurant Mother wanted you to visit?" Unconsciously copying her brother, she slipped a slim hip onto the edge of the porch railing and let one long leg dangle.

Damn. He hadn't remembered, had completely forgotten about the actual reason behind his enforced vacation to begin with. As smoothly as possible, not wanting Honey to know that he'd had other things to occupy his mind and had never actually visited the restaurant, although he had tasted their take-out, he crossed his fingers and lied, "Of course."

Something in his tone of voice made Honey sit up. He couldn't fool her. There were many things she knew about her brother. At the top of the list rested the fact that he was a notoriously bad liar. It didn't look like he'd improved any over the years. Well aware that he was lying, she prepared to help him dig a deeper hole for himself and inquired perkily, "How was it?"

"Oh, good. Very good. It would be a good, solid investment for…" His voice trailed off. For the life of him, he who had been gifted with a terrific memory that had seen him skip a grade in school, graduate from NYU and Harvard Law School, and become a valuable employee at their parents' company, couldn't recall the name of their mother's friend. Sheepishly, he asked, "Who wanted to invest in it again?"

"Cecelia Sinclair," Honey supplied promptly. Her memory was wonderful.

"Right," Jim agreed with a small, choked chuckle meant to disguise his embarrassment. "She'll love the restaurant. It's a good, solid investment."

"You're repeating yourself," Honey pointed out helpfully. "You've said 'good' four times now."

"Right." Then he stopped, because he was repeating himself yet again. Going with a laugh that sounded forced to his own ears, Jim quickly added, "Well, tell Mom that her friend will be very happy. It really is a good inv…I mean, a great opportunity for her. She won't want to miss out on it." He hoped. He didn't have a clue, other than the little research he'd done on the restaurant before he'd arrived in Las Vegas.

"I'll be sure to do that." Honey started tapping a well-manicured fingernail against the wooden railing. "So…by my calculations, it's got to be, what, about 2:30 out there in Nevada?"

Hoping they were getting onto a subject where he wouldn't have to lie or mislead her, Jim answered, relieved, "Just about."

"I thought so." Honey batted at the trailing ends of a hanging plant. "My day finished up a short while ago. I've been home for a full thirty glorious minutes now. What have you done so far today?"

He'd done a lot. Not anything he wanted to tell, of course, and it hadn't involved leaving the bedroom, except for a very interesting excursion to the bathroom where he'd learned that showering with Trixie proved to be a stimulating experience that he'd love to repeat. But he wasn't about to say any of that to Honey. Without thinking, he said the first thing that popped into his mind. "Not much. In fact, I'm drinking my first cup of coffee for the day."

Her face felt like it was going to settle into permanent lines of shock. "Wait. What did you just say? My brother, Jim Frayne, who usually beats the sun up, just woke up?" she inquired incredulously, the last words coming out on a small shriek of surprise.

Jim realized his mistake immediately. Swearing inwardly, he settled for yet another one-word answer, "Yeah."

What was happening in Vegas, anyway? Honey's lips pursed while warning bells set off quite an alarming peal in her ears. She cursed her busy work schedule again. As tempting as a sudden vacation would be there was simply no way she could arrange it. At least, not without resigning. And she had no desire to quit to simply discover the answers to her overwhelming curiosity, although it was beyond vexing not to know what was going on. "Well, since that's the case, I'm going to have to rephrase my question a little. What exactly did you do last night?"

He wondered what she'd say if he told her the truth. He'd…well not exactly he, but his current alter-ego, had married his fiancée, who happened to be played by their fellow co-president. Then they'd experienced an incredible night together…a night that had continued well into the wee hours of the morning and was the reason why he was just moving about, halfway through the afternoon. He didn't realize it but his lips pulled up into a very satisfied, very happy, and a very primitive, grin. "Nothing much," he answered while his eyes shone with the potency of the recent memories.

Oh, she was going to have to end the call and soon. She had to interrogate Dan. He was the only one who she was going to get any satisfaction from. Her brother was being stubbornly close-mouthed. Honey stared across her backyard while her newest strategy began to form. "So…let me recap your vacation so far. You've visited the casinos. You have your scouting report on the restaurant ready for our mother. You ran into Dan. And you're sleeping in. Sounds to me like you must be getting a lot of rest and relaxation out there." Her pause was intentional. With a glint to her eyes, she sucked in her breath and waited for his response.

R&R. What a joke. If anything, rest and relaxation were the furthest things from his mind…and had been, ever since he ran across Trixie in that bar downstairs. Truth to tell, he wouldn't have wanted it any other way. Finally seeing the shadow he'd been dying to see darken the doorway, he said into the phone, anxious to end the phone call, "That about sums it up, Honey. Thanks for calling. I've got to go. I'll talk to you later." A quick push of the finger and he disconnected the call before his sputtering, stuttering sister could offer her objections or farewells.

"Was that Honey on the phone?" Trixie took a hesitant step into the room. Seeing him out of the bedroom, in the bright light of day, while they were both awake and aware and not held captive within the grips of their shared passion, was rather different from the exceptional ease of the night before. Nervously, she watched him closely, wondering what he was thinking.

"Yeah." It seemed that one word answers were all he was capable of. The bright pink cell slipped out of his hand, to land on the top of the bar. Forgetting about its very presence or the fact that he'd just finished a very peculiar phone call with his sister, Jim slowly stood up. He should have looked her over. It was what he'd been planning to do. But he couldn't get past one simple, glaring detail. Her shirt. Her gray shirt. Her very familiar gray T-shirt.

Trixie knew her cheeks were turning that blasted shade of red again. She could feel them heating up. Her hands bunched the edge of the overlarge shirt while she second-guessed her choice of attire. Maybe she shouldn't have gone with her instincts. Maybe she should have chosen something less…intense. Or obvious. Or his. Her bare toes curled into the carpet while panic momentarily claimed her. She wondered what on earth possessed her to don that particular article of clothing. It had seemed right, especially after their night together. But with Jim staring at her, simply staring at her as if he'd never seen her before, and not moving or talking or doing anything else but staring…Well, now she wasn't quite so sure of her choice. It took all her strength to inquire, "Jim?"

The emerald had darkened; oh, possessively so. He couldn't look away from her shirt. He knew it well. Hell, it had been his, once upon a time. The NYU was still proudly emblazoned across the front, if a little faint now. And it hadn't handled aging all that well, either. It was threadbare; especially worn through in a few important places. He inwardly cursed the fact that she'd remembered to put a bra on. Of course, Dan or whoever was going to be interrupting them in a manner of seconds would have walked in on something they'd much rather not have seen. And still might, with the amount of feelings viewing her in his old shirt stirred up within him. Before he recognized his intentions, he started walking towards her, his steps slow and purposeful.

Trixie watched his approach warily. When two freckled hands reached out and pulled her to him, she let out a large relieved breath. When his mouth descended down onto hers as if it had been years since their last kiss instead of a mere fifteen minutes ago, she decided her choice was definitely the right one. Most definitely. A happy little giggle bubbled up and over. "Jim," she whispered again, this time against his warm, welcoming lips.

He drew back and arched an eyebrow. "Nice shirt," he complimented, scanning her once again with his interested gaze. "You look good in it."

"Thanks," she answered, laughing louder when he pressed a kiss to the sensitive skin on her neck. Her eyes fluttered closed while she marveled how the wonderfulness of the night hadn't dissipated with the coming of the day. It hadn't. If anything, it only seemed to be getting stronger. The realization delighted her more than anything, caused her to confide quietly, "I may not have always worn it but I have always liked it."

"Yeah, well..." Jim caught at the hem of it. "It looks great on you but…" He started to lift it, forgetting the time limit or the fact that they were going to have visitors very soon. "It would look much better off."

Trixie's breath caught in her throat. Finding it incredible that he could still want her as much as he very obviously did, she watched with wide blue eyes as he slowly started to pull the shirt up. He'd only made it halfway when a loud, insistent and extremely unwelcome knock on the connecting door sounded, bringing a swift and complete end to her rising desire.

"Do we have to let them in?" Jim grumbled disconsolately, frustrated. He frowned in the direction of the door as a cold bucket of water quickly dashed his desire. Slowly, he let the shirt fall back down.

She dropped her head against his chest and breathed in the familiar scent of his cologne. He smelled so good, so familiar, so Jim. "I think we do," she mumbled back regretfully, her hands resting at his sides while she concentrated on the simple act of breathing. "I hate to say it but I really think we do."

He shot a killer glare when the knock sounded again. A low growl came up and out of his throat. "Let's not," he suggested huskily, running a hand over her curls, pressing her head against his chest. "Maybe we could barricade it."

Smiling at his foolishness, she squeezed him around the waist. "Who do you think it is?"

"I don't care." Jim carefully gauged the distance between the connecting door and the doorway to the hall. Eyebrows lifted while he thought about all the possibilities. "Do you think we could get out of here and into the bedroom before that damn door opens?"

Since the door handle was starting to jiggle, she correctly guessed that they didn't have a prayer of a chance. Trixie gave one quick negative shake of her head and giggled again when he positioned her to stand in front of him. She slanted one last glance over her shoulder before the door finally opened and they were no longer alone.

"Hello?" Dan called out loudly. He looked comical with his dark eyes tightly closed and his hands held out in front of him. He took a few steps in, wildly feeling around for anything he might bump into. "There's no point in hiding. I know you two are in here. I'm only going to say this once. You've got until the count of ten. Then I'm going to open my eyes. You'd both better be decent. You've had enough time to do whatever it is that you were doing. I'd rather not have to scrub my eyes out with Lysol."

Scowling at his antics and his intentionally aggravating words, Trixie reached down and picked up the same throw pillow Jim had tossed at Dan nearly twenty-four hours earlier. Without regret, she hummed it at him with much more force than Jim had employed. It caught Dan in the side of the face before he made it to the count of three.

Dan opened his eyes, a large frown on his handsome face. "Hey!" he complained, glowering at the two.

Trixie smiled sweetly back at him. She wasn't the only sister to a trio of brothers for nothing. "Take a hint, Mangan," she advised him under her breath, settling back against Jim.

Amused, Jim let out a quick bark of laughter. "Good aim," he complimented her, his strong arms wrapping around her waist and holding her as close to him as he could get her.

Dan rolled his eyes. While he privately thought it was wonderful that the two were much happier with each other, he'd much prefer not to have to witness it. Seriously, he didn't want to see…anything. Being careful not to look overly long at the couple, he skirted around them until he made it the recliner. "Don't get mad at me, kids. I bought you as much time as I could. Your partner wanted to break in here around ten this morning...Mrs. Hart," he tacked on for good measure, a lip curling with barely concealed amusement.

Not surprised that Dan knew about their 'marriage', Trixie stared at the floor. She cleared her throat while words escaped her. "Hum…well…yeah."

"Quite an articulate lady you've got there, Mr. Hart," Dan remarked playfully, staring over her bent head and smirking at Jim.

He'd been in the room for three minutes and was already jabbing at them. Jim chose to overlook the fact that Dan obviously knew about the events of the night before. Running a comforting hand up and down Trixie's back, enjoying the soft texture of his old shirt underneath his fingertips, he wondered aloud, "What does Max want with us?"

"Nothing specific. At least, not yet. He's aware that today's supposed to be the Big Day," Dan answered, speaking the last two words with air quotes. His dark eyes gleamed with unspoken amusement. Obviously, the Big Day for the mission had nothing on the Big Night for the two honeymooners. He could tell by the extremely relaxed air of comfortability surrounding them. He lowered himself onto the recliner. "He wants to start getting his ducks in a row. If you ask me, I think he's anxious to get this mission finished up so he can go home."

Trixie walked over to the bar and pulled out a bottle of water. After taking a long sip, she turned away until something very pink caught her attention. She frowned down at her cell, surprised at herself for not knowing its whereabouts. She never forgot her cell, never forgot to bring it with her, always had it within reach. But then again her mind had been on other, much more important things than her cell phone, she reminded herself. A soft smile in Jim's direction showed exactly who she'd been thinking about. "I'm not surprised. He misses Jocelyn."

"Without a doubt." Dan glanced down at the pink phone in her hand. He cleared his throat before bringing up a more pressing topic and cocked his head to the side, keeping Jim within his sights. "So, Jim, by any chance did you happen to recently end a phone call with someone from home?"

"Yeah. Honey called. How'd you know that?" Not embarrassed in the least by the need to be as close to Trixie as he could possibly get, he joined her over at the bar and was rewarded with the sunniest of smiles, only half-listening to Dan.

"Did you…ah…happen to notice which phone she called on?" Dan pointed at the one in Trixie's hand and arched a lone eyebrow.

"What do you mean? She called me." Jim glanced back, confused.

"Oh, no. She most certainly did not. You answered Hollywood's cell, pal." Dan held up his own, ignoring the two shocked looks coming his way. "I'm currently keeping my phone turned off. Some odd sense of self-preservation had me ignore her call. The text message she just sent was different. That is one very insistent and extremely indignant Honey Wheeler Belden right now."

Trixie's mouth opened and closed and then opened and closed again. All she was able to utter was a low groan. "Oh, woe." She leaned against Jim, wondering when she'd lost total control. Of everything. For clarification purposes only, she asked weakly, hoping for a negative response, "Honey? She called…me?"

"She most definitely called you," Dan replied blithely. He didn't sound all that sympathetic even though both Trixie and Jim appeared to be in a state of complete and utter shock. If he was being honest, he found the whole situation amusing. To him, the entertainment value was beyond parallel. With one edge of his lip curving up again, he turned to Jim and demanded, "Personally, I want to know how you didn't recognize the fact that the phone you picked up was pink. Bright pink, in fact. What a shame, man. I never knew you were color blind."

Jim looked down at the cell in question, unable to formulate a response. He didn't have one. Dan would eat him alive if he admitted to the only defense he had. Mooning over Trixie wasn't something he was going to admit to doing in Mangan's presence.

"I did the same thing the other day, only in reverse," Trixie admitted into the sudden quiet. "Although I don't think Mart suspected anything when I answered Jim's phone by mistake."

"Nope, he wouldn't," Dan remarked with too much good cheer, the kind that set the others' teeth to rattling. "Honey's a little different than your brother, though, Trix. According to the text she sent me, Honey wants to find out exactly why her brother is answering her best friend's phone. Only she didn't phrase it in such nice terms. I'm going to avoid her. You two need to do the same; at least until you come up with a good cover story for her. She'll see through any line of BS you try to pass off. She's not stupid."

Trixie ran both hands over her still-damp curls. "Honey. Damn it all. Out of all the people it could have been, it had to be Honey."

"We could probably convince her the cellular lines got mixed up," Jim mused quietly, trying to come up with some plausible way to explain how he'd answered Trixie's cell phone without admitting that he'd actually answered her cell phone. He winced. Now even his thoughts were starting to sound like Honey.

"Won't work," Dan sang out merrily. "She's too savvy. If you tried it, she'd only call the cell phone company herself, anyway. It won't fly."

"Or we can avoid her calls like Dan advised us to do until later," Trixie suggested after a minute, unable to think of a single other avenue.

"It is your only hope." Dan put both hands over his head, another smirk settling on his face. The two were so damn amusing, much better than any floor show or musical revue could be. To think he had a front row seat, too. He only wished he had someone else to share it with. "She won't give up. Honey's relentless when it comes to ferreting out information. If she can't have satisfaction now, she'll simply take it at another time and place."

As if on cue, Jim's cell started to ring. He stalked across the room and very quickly muted the sound, letting the call ring through before going into voicemail. "It's going to tick her off, though," he declared ruefully, imagining the look on her face when she realized no one was going to respond to her calls. "She's not going to like being ignored."

"No worries. I'll take care of it." At his arrogant best, Dan used his two thumbs to point at himself. "I'll send her a text to let her know she doesn't have to worry about us and that you'll get in touch with her as soon as you can to explain the…ah…situation."

Jim put his phone down, leaned against the wall and rubbed the side of his right temple where a headache was starting to brew. "Great. Just great," he grumbled sarcastically.

Trixie sidled up next to him, slipped her hand into his, and shared a tiny smile with him. "It'll be okay," she assured him lowly.

"I'm sorry I answered your phone," he apologized, turning to face her.

"Don't worry about it." Hoping to reassure him, she held on tightly to his hand. "We'll take care of it when the time comes. Right now, Dan's right. We're going to have to put the Honey issue on the backburner. We have one last thing to take care of first."

The fourth member of their group appeared in the open doorway to the other suite, preventing Jim from answering. "Good morn…I mean, afternoon," Max greeted them, straight-faced, and a devilish gleam to his eyes.

Trixie couldn't prevent yet another blush. Everyone in the room knew exactly what she and Jim had been doing. Embarrassed, she cleared her throat and answered faintly, "Good afternoon, Max."

He nodded curtly at the others in the room before addressing Trixie, "I hate to interrupt your little pow-wow over here, Belden, but I need to steal you away for a moment." He stepped back, motioned for her to enter his suite. Keeping one hand on the doorknob, he added, "We need to get caught up on a few important details."

She caught the slight reprimand in his tone. Agents were never supposed to put their own personal needs above their work, no matter what occurred during the course of their mission. She'd most definitely broken that rule, and more, the night before, and without a moment's regret or hesitation. Squaring her shoulders, she bobbed her head once and, with one last longing look of fond farewell for Jim and a tiny wave for Dan, made her way towards the other room, her cell clutched in her hand and her face as impassive as she could make it. What a hell of a way to start the day.