Chapter 5: Where Were you When Everything was Falling Apart?

It's dark, the kind of darkness that takes Leonard a minute to decide if he even opened his eyes at all. The smell though, is what tips him off to the wrongness of everything. There's a stench of rot and despair that floats along the cold metal floor his face is pressed against. This isn't the Enterprise by any stretch of the imagination.

Leonard wants to sit up but everything aches and feels sluggish and his mouth feels like he's been sucking on cotton balls. Stunned, he assesses. It's far less damaging than other means of rendering people unconscious but they all feel the same waking up. The constant and frantic scurrying sound in the distance makes him wish he wasn't awake at all. A shiver runs through him as he pictures rats scurrying in the darkness. Do Orion slave ships have rats? Leonard can't remember but anything that likes to scurry in the dark certainly isn't going to be any friend of his.

He lies there, embracing the numbness of not moving. There's a gentle humming coming from somewhere, soft and comforting if not a little broken in its execution. He can't decide if it's really there or the ghost of a distant memory trying to offer comfort. Thinking is just going to lead to panicking. Panicking won't help anyone here. He distracts himself by going over the mental checklist Jim taught him during one of their survival command training exercises they had to pass if they ever wanted to rise above the rank of Lieutenant. The list wasn't that dissimilar to Leonard's own emergency medical list so it was easy to remember.

Number one, what does he know? Captured by slavers, not something Leonard personally had on his bucket list, but here he is. Slavers will want them alive but that doesn't mean they are safe. At least part of the away team was taken but Scotty was definitely on the shuttle. That makes Leonard the highest ranking officer and by default the officer in charge. Great.

Number two, what does he need to know? For starters where the hell are they and who exactly has them? There's actually slavers and then there's scavengers that like to sell easy targets to slavers for quick credits. Who and how many crew members are captured and what is their medical status? What kind of rations and supplies are available and is escaping a possibility? Number two is a little overwhelming, especially in the confines of darkness.

Number three, what does he have at his disposal? Leonard's hand runs over his hip. He supposes it was too much to ask for his captors to be incompetent enough to leave his phaser on him. Since he can't see the space he's being held in, objects to be utilized are a mystery. That leaves him with his wit and irritability, neither of which are best suited to this situation. So far he's not off to a great start.

Light floods the area blinding Leonard and sending a lightning bolt of pain shooting through his skull to bounce around like a pinball as he scrunches his eyes closed to try and escape. The headache that was lurking in the furthest recesses of his head is fully awake now. Covering his face with his hands he tries to block out the bright light that seems to be burning its way through his eyelids. Blinking slowly, he tries to open his eyes enough to look around through split fingers. Everything's a blurry mess of color and form that has no relevance.

The muted chuckle in the distance at Leonard's discomfort has to be a guard enjoying his prisoner's suffering. So, not alone. There are other raggedy breaths in the space and based on the blurry red and blue he makes out when he tries to look at the source, it has to be his fellow crewmembers.

After a few moments, Leonard experimentally lowers his hands. The world's still a little too bright, but the details are coming into focus. So far hospitality is earning zero stars and their accommodations aren't much better. He sits up on the uncomfortable metal grating comprising the floor of what can only be a storage space at best. High above them is a metal walk way in which their watchdog is positioned, glaring down at them.

The walls are barren except for the odd phaser blast scar and water stain. A thick coat of dirt pillows in the corners of the room fading to a light dusting of grime as it reaches the center. Leonard doubts they're the first unfortunate souls to occupy this hallow space. He catches the glimpse of a tail belonging to something in a rodent family as it ducks through a crack in the corner. It's the type of environment that has Leonard longing for a sonic shower and broad spectrum antibiotic.

Speaking of antibiotics, Leonard's hand runs along the seam of his pants until it gets to the tender and swollen part of his shin that whip tore into. The fabric sticks and pulls against his leg as he tries to get a good look at the damage. He's missing a small chunk of flesh, nothing life threatening but hardly something he wants to expose to this environment.

Sitting directly across from him staring at him with the most haunted and terrified look Leonard's ever had the misfortune of seeing on a face that young is the girl he found. Obviously her hiding spot wasn't safe enough. "Are you alright?" asks Leonard, voice hoarse. He isn't shocked that she doesn't answer. There isn't anything he could do for her even if she did respond; he's striped clean of everything except his uniform.

Leonard looks to his left, the former red and blue blotches growing very human features since last he looked. Xanders is sitting with her back pressed to the wall in the far corner with Engineer Clark half cradled in her lap. Her eyes never deviate from his slack face as she gently rocks back and forth like she's soothing a baby, humming the gentle notes Leonard's been hearing. Leonard doesn't need a medical tricorder to make his assessment. Humans can't live with their organs spilling out, even if his junior medic is doing her damnedest to try and hold the wound closed.

The blood on the floor is drying. If Leonard had to guess, he'd put young Clark's death at a few hours ago. "Evelyn," he says, trying to break her out of her spell. The humming stops and it feels like the last shreds of humanity go with it, fleeing the metal cage in a way its occupants can't.

"He's dead. Drew's dead," says Xanders in a small fragile voice that barely escapes her cracked lips. She never pauses in her rocking; her hand never loosens over the fatal wound. A lone tear runs down her cheek, following in the path of many others before it.

Leonard makes it a personal point to stay out of the personal lives of his junior officers, to maintain objectivity as their boss and for his own sanity. The kids that go into the academy fresh out of school tend to have soap opera worthy social lives as they figure out their place in both Starfleet and adulthood. Leonard already lived his soap opera, he doesn't need to be sucked into other's. Still, he somehow knows Xanders and Clark were close, couple of dates and romantic dinners kind of close.

He doesn't have any words to form a worthy condolence. They're prisoners on of all things, a slave ship, her boyfriend is dead and Xanders is green enough, that it's probably her first death in service. They're really in here. The only thing worse would be to lose hope.

"Evelyn, we're going to get out of this. The captain will be looking for us," promises Leonard. He's not sure if he says it for her benefit or if he just needs to hear the words out loud.

Xanders still doesn't look at him. "You sure?"

Leonard's read the briefing reports about the Orion smuggling operations and slave rings. He knows the statistics and they're not good. Once they hit the auction block it's a certainty they'll never be found and the ship they're on is warping towards that destination. "I know Captain Kirk, he won't leave a stone unturned. We just have to stay alive until he finds us."

The humming starts again.

"Jim!" shouts Gaila as she runs through the crowded shuttle station towards her friend. Excitement at seeing an old friend gives her feet wings.

Jim envy's the depths of her never ending smile that always seems to brighten the room and the undiminishable happiness that dances in the depths of those big bright aqua eyes. There are happy people all throughout the station and Jim wonders if he'll ever feel happiness again or is he doomed to play the imposter in other people's otherwise blissful lives.

"Jim," she squeals, practically throwing herself into him as she wraps her arms tightly around him in a hug. She melts into the reassurance that he's alive and well. When word spread that the Enterprise had been ambushed by slavers and members of her away team had been taken, Gaila was sure Jim's name would be among the taken. As fate would have it, Jim was safe, but what would come later for the youngest Captain in the fleet would be far worse.

Jim stands there, rather awkwardly, unsure of where he should put his hands. This isn't just old friends getting together, this is business. This is green skin all around him. He wonders if she would embrace him at all if she knew what he did to the last Orion he was this close to. Realizing the hug isn't going to end anytime soon, he gives in and hugs her back.

Gaila pulls back, looking a little sad. Softly, she asks, "How is he?"

"It's not good," is all Jim can force between his lips. He's still raw from last night, conflicted between everything he learned and voicing the anger he's been feeling towards Leonard for the last year. Mostly, he's pissed at himself for trying to vent that anger and frustration on someone who's no longer able to understand it. This happened to Leonard… because of Jim, he has no right to search for absolution for himself. And from Leonard of all people.

Another Orion steps up next to them, hefting a bag over his shoulder. He extends his hand, "You must be Jim. Gaila talks about you often," he says pleasantly.

Jim's stomach rolls. He's seen Orions since Leonard was taken. Hell, there are a few hundred within Starfleet, mostly female though, and thousands more within the Federation boarders. Orion slave girls are the prize of the universe. Since they've mostly turned it into a legitimate profession serving as entertainers and hosts, it's hard to find settlements and colonies that don't have a few living among them. Orions, while part of the Federation, have a few outlying colonies and planets that still hold to the tradition practices of actual slavery, particularly of their women, that refuse to conform to Federation law. Those rogue chapters have prospered by extending their slave trade to include kidnapped victims of the Federation they despise. The last time he actually saw a male Orion he was holding a broken piece of glass to their throat, threatening to slit it wide open if they didn't reveal the location of one of their processing facilities. Jim can still see the blood on his hands and feel the disappointed looks from his senior staff.

Jim forces himself to extend his hand to this individual and accept the very human handshake. He doesn't return the smile though. The greeting lasts mere seconds, Gaila's friend clearly sensing the tension in the air and Jim's reluctance to be pleasant.

Gaila's shoulders slump but she keeps her smile firmly in place. This isn't the easy devil may care guy she spent time at the academy with. It's like Jim's lost the thing that made him different, special, from the other people she met. This is someone with the weight of the universe on their shoulders. "Jim this is Thai, the expert I was telling you about," says Gaila.

Jim's brow furrows. "Thai? That's a rather human name isn't it?" he asks suspiciously. He doesn't have time for scholarly informed experts, Starfleet and Medical have dozens of those; he's looking for the real deal, with usable authentic information that's going to help. He wants someone who can give him the blueprint to understanding what's left of his best friend.

"Why don't we go somewhere more private to talk," suggests Thai, looking around the crowed station. This is hardly the forum to discuss such personal and distressing matters.

Jim side eyes Gaila who nods reassuringly. "Alright. My place is just around the corner," Jim suggests. He's not completely sure why he suggests his place; the thought of hosting an Orion in his own personal space makes him cringe. He tries to tell himself it's reflex, convenience and nothing more; it has absolutely nothing to do with the phaser he smuggled off the Enterprise being located in a secret compartment in his side table.

The walk there is silent. Jim can't get a read on Thai yet but he can tell Gaila's struggling to keep from asking a million questions. He knows because he could hear it in all the things she doesn't say in their communications, the awkward pauses as she thinks of something harmless to talk about to distract Jim from everything Leonard. Shamefully he's never asked about Gaila's upbringing; if this is something she grew up fearing or something that touched her life a little more personally. Really their relationship is based on falling in bed together and comfortable banter and innuendo that comes easily with no expectations of anything more, yet a willingness to be in each other's corner.

Their dynamic almost changed once with Gaila claiming love for him, but Jim nipped that in the bud with a rather inarticulate, "That's so weird." Neither spoke of it again. Gaila never voicing if those feeling died before they really took root, or if she buried them, never letting them sprout to anything more than a cherished bedfellow. For his part, Jim never had to explain why things would never progress past mutual yet temporary gratification.

"I'll make us some coffee?" suggests Gaila as the door to Jim's apartment opens and the trio walks in.

Jim points towards in the direction of the kitchen, using his other hand to direct Thai's attention to the living room. The pair sit down, opting to sit on separate couches creating the greatest distance one can, given the layout of the living room. Jim shifts uneasily with every clink and clang emanating from the kitchen that doesn't herald Gaila's appearance, his eyes occasionally darting to that secret compartment in the side table. It doesn't help that Thai stares at him like every psychologist Jim's had the misfortune of being ordered to see.

"You asked about my name," says Thai, breaking the uncomfortable silence. His soft voice floats across the iciness of the room.

"Doesn't exactly scream someone raised outside the Federation or human contact," confirms Jim, darkly. He's not here for the party line about how the Orion government doesn't sanction slavery nor does it know any specifics about the operations, but here is the tradition break down of the old ways, that the Orion history experts supplied him with. He knows the slave trade is alive and rather healthy in its practice. Jim got a pretty good look at parts of it when he still had a ship to look for Leonard.

Thai tilts his head in agreement. "It wasn't the name I was born with. My adoptive parents gave it to me," explains Thai, a heaviness hanging off his words. "Ta-I was one of the only things I would say when a Federation ship rescued a group of us from a damaged slave transport. My parents thought I was telling them my name, with a slight speech impediment. Slaves aren't exactly taught reading, writing and basic vocabulary."

"What does it mean?" asks Jim, trying hard to ignore the way his cheeks burn for automatically being on the defensive.

"There are seven distinct languages among the Orion people not counting various dialects. Slaves have their own language. It's a mishmash of words from the seven Orion languages and words used by alien prisoners captured by the slavers. Every house has their own version of the language which is really just understanding enough words and phrases to know what's expected of you. It's why your universal translators aren't efficient at translating it. Ta-I means master."

"And you kept it?" asks Jim incredulously. Seems like the last souvenir someone would want once they escaped that life. "You're parents didn't insist it be changed?"

"It was two years before they were informed what I was actually saying and what it translated to. By that time I was sixteen years old and had grown accustomed to it and my new life. I was calling myself master essentially. There's a certain power that comes from being the master of your own destiny."

"How did you end up a slave?" asks Jim, a little hesitant to voicing such a touchy subject. He needs the nitty-gritty though, he needs the pieces of the puzzle that's going to let him break through and bring Leonard back.

"I was born into it. My mother and brother were stolen from a small village in Bel-ant-que province. The master of their house took an interest in my mother and I was the result. She called me Hale in private. Officially my name was Capi-ne which loosely translates to Slave Eight. When I was five my brother was sold to another house and by the time I was seven my mother was sent to work at another one of our master's houses. I've never seen either of them since."

Jim slouches back on the couch. Obviously Thai has the experience for the insight he's looking for that medical hasn't provided yet. It kills him that it's coming out of the face of the enemy, though the soul clearly belongs to someone who has suffered just as greatly at their hands.

"It's not uncommon to lose people completely into the slave circuit," says Gaila, finally emerging from the kitchen with a tray of cups. Jim takes the offered cup from Gaila as she passes it to him before sitting next to Thai. He lets it sit on the coffee table as he tries to order his thoughts and questions in his head.

"Thank you," say Thai accepting his cup from Gaila and taking an experimental sip. He turns his gaze back to Jim. "So have I passed your test so far? I mean that's your real question, am I legit?"

Jim nods. The questions don't come though. He thought he was ready for answers but something in him is hesitant to open that door. There's no coming back from learning the gory details. Whatever he learns here will change him forever. What happened to Leonard will go from speciation to cold hard fact. "Did you read the files?" he asks.

"I did."

Gaila looks like she'd rather be anywhere else than a silent observer of the conversation about to go down.

Thai squares his shoulders, every line of his body following suit in adopting a professional stance. "Let me start by saying what your medical team has deemed as a lobotomy gone wrong is inaccurate," states Thai.

Jim's heart skips a beat.

"It went exactly right."

The declaration crawls up Jim's spin like ants in a line, sending creepy and chilling feelings thrumming along every bone in his body. The thought that Leonard's condition was an unfortunate side effect of their barbarianism was sickening enough but to know that what's left currently residing in a padded room in medical was by specific design is a whole new level of sadism. "Why would they…" he asks over the sinking feeling he doesn't want to know the answer.

Thai licks his lips before pursing them together. "A slave is only worth what it can provide to the house. It can be manual labour, sexual in nature, a specific skill. If a slave becomes too much trouble, they're killed. The disruption often isn't worth trying to break them."

Galia shifts uncomfortably, opting to look out the window rather than anyone else in the room. Jim just replays the last conversation he had with Leonard in his head and how obscene the topic seems now that the thought of someone touching Leonard so intimately- violating him on top of everything else. Jim's had all year to imagine every possible nightmare Leonard was facing. He wishes he could go back to the safety of ten minutes ago when it was speculation and a not certainty.

"You're friend had a very rare and specific skill set. Doctors don't come along that often, making them almost priceless. Yours proved to be more trouble than he was worth. I read the witness accounts. A lot of effort went into breaking him and when that failed, the only way to recoup some of that time, money and energy was to salvage the only thing they could- another body for manual labour. Lobotomizing slaves is just another tool in their arsenal. Especially ones hell bent on orchestrating escapes."

A manic laugh bubbles out of Jim. He can't help it. It crawls out of him like a frantic animal clawing and destroying in its frantic efforts to escape. Masterminding escapes and causing endless trouble is Jim's thing- not Leonard's. Leonard is a pacifist that bitches about their collective stupidity as they race headlong into danger. Except apparently not. When in dire straits, Leonard is not only willing to disturb the peace but excels at it.

"It's relatively easy to train them after you destroy their mind. If I've put the time line together correctly, I'd say they resorted to it about six months into his capture."

Six months. Right about the time Jim lost the Enterprise. He should have pushed harder, going after informants and prisoners with greater tenacity and threat. Maybe then he could have gotten to Leonard faster, actually rescued him.

"I also plotted his path through the slave network and can approximate they buyers, the trainers and enforcers involved in his captivity. It's fairly safe to say you can put any violations of a sexual nature out of your mind but the ultimate purchaser was a slaver named Ma'ltic who prides himself on being especially cruel. He likes a challenge and honestly given his reputation slaves would rather be put to death then serve him. He's a known buyer of G'blade," Thai shakes his head searching for the more appropriate standard word. "Black marked or last chance slaves."

"Last chance?" asks Jim, already not liking the answer.

"The ones marked for death. It's impressive Dr McCoy managed to protect that many of your people from worse fates. I don't have words to convey just how amazing it is that he actually organized some of their escapes."

Tears burn at the edges of Jim's eyes. On the surface it sounds extraordinary that Leonard would be the one but Jim's unsurprised. Leonard's compassion and reverence for life makes such a feat completely possible. It doesn't change the fact that Leonard was only forced into that position because Jim put him there. "How do we fix him now," chokes out Jim.

Thai looks regretful. "I'm sure medical has told you there is no fix."

"You think those reports even detail a fraction of what Leonard's capable of? You're wrong. I just need to get him over this hump and then it will be like it was before. You'll see," spits Jim.

"Jim," says Gaila with all the compassion and pity that everyone else offers that makes Jim's skin burn.

"You're not stuck with that feral animal they brought back, but Dr McCoy died out there," Thai cautions.

Jim tilts his head smugly. They don't know, none of them know Leonard the way he does. Jim will see Leonard prove them all wrong if it's the last thing he does. "You'll see."

"I hope you're right."

Jim opens the drawer in the side table, his hand hovering over it like it's not sure if it should go for the PADD or rip open the secret compartment and liberate the phaser. Saying no didn't work out too well for the last Orion that tried it. Jim grabs the PADD. Coercing answers from people hasn't worked out too well for Jim either. "Just tell me what I need to do to start bringing him out of this." He opens a blank file, ready to take notes.

Thai hesitates for moment. "He seems to respond poorly to his first name. At best they would have called him McCoy, though it's more likely he had an Orion name. Your best bet will be to resort to calling him McCoy. It will be less confusing."

"He has a daughter. It will probably be a stretch for her to call him McCoy," counters Jim.

"If you want to train him to respond to another name, start slow. Attach it to McCoy. You want him to go by Leonard, reinforce the idea of Leonard McCoy, then slowly drop the McCoy. They key to anything will be repetition, routine and short simple commands spoken with authority."

Jim starts to shake his head. "I'm not going to treat him like they did. I won't be his slave driver."

"Rescued slaves find comfort in it. It's safety in the familiar and whether you like it or not, that world has become familiar to him. You think you rescued him but he sees it as taking him away from everything he knows, his safe place such that it is."

Jim snorts. There was nothing safe about that place, nor what happened there.

"This isn't about your comfort or your very natural desire to comfort and coddle him after what he's endured. McCoy knew the rules there, what to expect and what the consequences were for breaking them. Here he doesn't know what you want for him or what will happen if he can't figure it out and that's dangerous for him. To reach him you have to employ his training no matter how distasteful you find it until he figures out a new rhythm for himself."

"I'm not torturing him or treating him like some work animal," protests Jim

"I'm not saying you should. But there are certain commands and expectations that he'll find comfort in, things that don't require thought he might no longer be capable of. He needs you to take control until we teach him how to take control himself again. There isn't an overnight fix here. It takes years and sometimes even then they're still unreachable."

Jim listens to every practice Thai was taught growing. He jots down thorough notes, careful to ignore the way his stomach rebels and his hand seems to tremble with each new detail. They continue well into the night and even after Gaila gives up and falls asleep in the arm chair.

Finally as dawn just begins to break, Jim finds the courage to ask the one question he's been putting off. "He has a daughter who wants to see him. She's eight. I need to know, will he hurt her in this state?" Jim can't imagine a world where Leonard could ever hurt Joanna. But it's his job to protect both of them now and no matter the state, he knows Leonard could never live with himself if he did harm her.

"Physically or emotionally?" asks Thai around a stifled yawn. "There's mention of a young girl in several of the witness accounts. While McCoy seemed to protect her for the most part, given the conclusion of that particular situation, he might react badly."

Jim shrinks dejectedly. He's spread thin with so many promises he can't hold up, he needed to be able to fulfil one.

"Like McCoy, you'll have to train her. Good news is she's young enough that learning how to work with McCoy will probably be easier for her than the rest of you."

"Thank god for small mercies," mumbles Jim, bitterly.

Thai tips his head like he can't argue that point.

Jim licks his lips, lubricating them for what he's going to try and force out next. "I want to know what it was like for him."

"I've painted a pretty accurate and complete picture for you tonight," replies Thai. He's been spilling details and scenarios for so long his throat is almost raw.

"I want to experience it first hand, to know what he expects from people, what he thinks we're going to do to him. I want to play it, know what it was like."

"You want to play slave?" asks Thai, sceptically.

Jim thinks it over for a few minutes, finally nodding. "If it's going to help me understand and get my friend back, I'll try anything."

Jim frantically taps his fingers against the wood railing of the gazebo. He's faced certain death, Klingons and furious time travelling Romulans and yet this makes him nervous. He hit the ground running the other day and hasn't slowed down since Thai armed him with a tentative game plan to get Leonard back on track. Normally he would have wanted to be more prepared for this meeting but like everything lately, he's up against an unforgiving clock that's never on his side.

"What's so important that we couldn't discuss it on vid chat?" asks Jocelyn in her soft yet deadly tone as she ascends the three stairs to the gazebo.

Jim takes a deep breath and tries to remember everything he learned in diplomacy class. He's doing this for Leonard. "I hope you're well this morning, Jocelyn," he greets with a forced smile that makes his cheeks hurt.

Jocelyn raises an eyebrow, not that dissimilar than Spock when he's trying to understand illogical human behavior. She crosses her arms, still managing to keep her immaculate manicure on display. "Make this quick, Captain, Joanna and I have a shuttle to catch."

Jim tries not to flinch under her glare that cuts down to his soul. He must miss Leonard something terribly because he can't help but see the similarities between Leonard and Jocelyn, secretly wondering what it would be like to watch two unmoving, stubborn giants fight and argue. "Now isn't the best time for Joanna to have the type of visit she wants with Leonard."

"Shame, she was looking forward to saying goodbye to her father before she leaves."

"Actually she can't leave for school," corrects Jim, delighting in causing her perfect smile to falter slightly. "According to your custody arrangement she has to reside on Earth for equal access for both parties." There's a certain joy that radiates from the words. Jocelyn, being a high class lawyer and architect of the McCoy divorce and custody agreement, used both to punish Leonard and keep him from Joanna as much as possible. If Leonard can't enjoy the irony of such an egregious document coming back to bit her in the ass, Jim sure as hell is.

It's probably just Jim's imagination but he swears the sun darkens a little and the crows start circling as she asks, "What would you know about my custody agreement?" Her air of superiority is on full display as she stares him down like a bug.

Jim doesn't flinch; he can't afford to. "I had my lawyer pull it. You can't take Joanna away from Leonard. He has rights."

Jocelyn smiles like she's about to execute the death warrant for a particularly annoying mosquito. "Leonard is not mentally capable of having parental rights, thus leaves me solely in charge of my daughter."

"No, but Leonard gave me his parental rights, meaning I have to have access to her, here, on Earth."

There's blood in the water now and something wildly dangerous flashes in those cold killer eyes. "That entitles you to vid calls and a very limited amount of physical custody at best. So limited in fact that I can send Joanna away to school as long as she visits Earth during school breaks to allow you said access. That is of course if I don't take you to court to re-evaluate the agreement on the grounds that you are unfit to have any kind of custody of my daughter."

"Oh I plan on challenging the amount of visitation allowed." Jim squares his shoulders and hands over his PADD. Jocelyn begins reading it immediately. "I already have a temporary injunction preventing you from taking her until we can go to family court and amend the agreement." He feels dizzy and so utterly out of his depth. Legal matters aren't his forte, unless you count his vast experience breaking the law. And being responsible for a little girl, Leonard's girl, of all things?

All pretence of her fake civility vanishes; Jim's in the ring with a professional legal killer now. "You may have survived your court-martial, Kirk, but family court isn't going to take too kindly to granting partial custody of a minor to a non biological parent who engages in torture and sedition. But I'd love to see you try." A smile forms on Jocelyn's face- a bright, evil smile. "In fact, let's see how well you do over the next four days."

Jim swallows. "Excuse me?" He's vastly unprepared to go to court right now, nor does he have the time. His lawyer assured him the soonest they could get in to discuss the matter would be weeks.

"I have to leave for business and now I can't take my daughter. That means her other guardian will have to be caretaker until my return. She's at the La Tour hotel with her nanny. You can pick her up before her nanny leaves to go back home today. I'll see you in four days Kirk. My only regret will be not being able to see the mess you're going to make first hand."

Jim stands there numbly as he watches Jocelyn walk away. He doesn't know what he won or if he even won this round.