Mike and Mae glanced up as one to find John crossing the ballroom toward them, holding a half-empty glass of Scotch in one hand. His necktie was askew, one side of his collar was bent upward, and he wove back and forth as if he had tied on a mean drunk. Before Chris realized what was coming, John grabbed the lapel of his jacket and jerked him hard forward, toward the largest group of their classmates who had gathered nearby. Caught off guard, Chris stumbled along behind John, righting himself just before he would have fallen, something Mae realized belatedly that she would rather liked to have seen.

"Hey, everybody!" John shouted, more drunkenly and more loudly, this time rousing the attention of just about everybody in the ballroom. "C'mere! Come over here! Look who I found! It's that lying little sonofabitch, Chris Irvine!"

Mae had followed the men to where they stood now and she noted that Chris had gone a little pale. She also noticed that he was gazing at her curiously, as if he couldn't understand why she wasn't using this opportunity to run for her life.

"John Cena." He said disdainfully when John reeled to a halt beside him. His attention ricocheted from Mae to John then back to Mae. Ultimately, though, it was John who finally commanded it. "If you have a bone to pick with me, Cena. It's one of your making."

John opened his mouth to respond, then glanced past Chris to Mae. "Do I know you?" He asked her, slurring the words together and narrowing his eyes as if he was trying to remember.

"Mae Ross." She said cheerfully.

"Oooohhhhh," John replied drunkenly. "No. I don't remember you. But I do remember your sister." He turned to look at Chris again. "Which brings me back to you, you sonofabitch." He stepped right in front of Chris, then thrust his free hand forward, against the other man's chest, pushing him backward, closer to the crowd.

Chris stumbled again but recovered well, then jerked his head upward, meeting John's gaze levelly. "Maybe we should take this outside."

"Oh no." John told him, shaking his head as if very intoxicated now. "No, no, no,no, no." His voice trailed off as his eyes seemed to glaze over a bit. "Where was I?" He asked no one in particular. "Oh yeah. Oh no, you don't. You sonofabitch. We'll keep it riigght here. I think the whooole class of ninety-five deserves to know what a lying little sonofabitch you are. Tell 'em."

Chris arched his eyebrows idly. "Tell them what?"

"Tell 'em how you lied about what happened between me and Milly Ross on prom night. Tell 'em how I never hurt her and how you made it all up, because because, you're a lying little sonofabitch. That's why. Go on, tell 'em.

"I never lied about that." Chris said. "I saw you walking away from the car, Cena, and I found Milly inside, in a state. It was obvious what had happened. And I, for one, can think of nothing more contemptible than a man forcing himself on an unwilling woman."

Oh, Mae really had to bit her tongue at that one. And she had to use every last scrap of self-control she possessed to keep from pulling her gun on him and riddling him with enough bullets to qualify him for Swiss cheese status.

John, on the other hand, evidently had no such qualms. Not that he pulled a gun on Chris but he did toss his half-empty drink in Chris's face. And when he did, the crowd that had gathered around them gasped as one, then went deadly silent.

"I never forced myself on her." John said, straightening, all traces of drunkenness suddenly vanishing. "And if she was here right now, she'd tell you that herself."

With surprising calm, Chris withdrew a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiped his face dry. He then stuffed it back into his pocket and narrowed his eyes at John. "You."

"It's true." A voice from behind Mae interrupted him.

Chris and Mae both spun around at the sound of it, Mae smiling in relief, Chris gaping in disbelief. Because Milly stood at the very front of the crowd, with Mike standing on one side of her and three federal agents standing on the other. She looked healthy and safe and happy, and she was dressed in a spectacular little blue dress that Mae had to admit did wonders to bring out her features.

"John never hurt me that night." Milly said loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Chris Irvine is a big, fat liar. Among other things. "She offered John a dazzling smile and crossed to where he stood. Then she lovingly adjusted his necktie and collar and brushed an affectionate kiss across his lips. "John was a perfect gentleman that night." She then turned her attention to Chris. "You, on the other hand, Chris, are no gentleman at all. Which is what I told the police and these nice FBI agents just a few minutes ago when I formally pressed kidnapping charges against you. You're just lucky no one got hurt when they came to get me at your boathouse. Your colleagues, as it turns out, are as gutless and free of honor as you are. They ran off. Or rather, they tried to run off. I think they're currently chatting with the police and the feds, telling him all sorts of interesting things about you."

Now the crowd that had gone silent suddenly came alive with murmurs, gasps, and whispers. Chris, too, came alive, ready to turn and bolt from the room. Mae, however, anticipated his attempted escape and hurled herself against him, shoving him to the ground. In one swift, graceful motion, she straddled him, reached into her purse for a pair of handcuffs and snapped them onto his wrists.

"Chris Irvine." She said. "You arrogant, stupid, loathsome pig, you're under arrest. For too many things for me to list here now. But let's start with kidnapping my sister, shall we? And threatening to to cut us both up into little pieces. And all those nasty dealings you've had with nasty people you shouldn't be having dealing with. I'll let my colleagues outline the details of everything else."

Signaled by her statement, two men and a woman wearing plain dark suits arrived beside the prone body of Chris Irvine and jerked him to standing. Mae stood, too, straightened her little black dress, and happily handed her capture over into their care. She wanted to check on Milly to be sure she was okay but one look at the way her sister and John were eyeing each other made Mae think she should wait a bit.

As her colleagues escorted Chris away, outlining his right to remain silent, she moved to stand beside Mike and watched calmly the retreating back of the man who no longer posed any threat to her, either literally or figuratively. He was going to to be put away, in a very icky place, for a very long time. And he was going to be out of her memories forever.

"Was that a gun I just saw in your purse?" Mike asked as she took her place by his side.

"Mm-hm." She told him. "My favorite automatic."

"Have you been carrying that all week?"

"Yep."

"I'd like to know where you had it."

"I bet you would."

He smiled. "I love you." He said.

She smiled back. "I know." When she looked up at Mike, it was to find him gazing at her expectantly and her smile broadened. "I love you too. And I can't wait to start showing you how much."

"And I can't wait." He said softly, bending down to nuzzle the side of her neck. "To find out where you hid that wire."

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