As the gang paired up, Roger was gathering up his things into his briefcase when he remembered something. "Oh! And be sure to keep an eye out for the ghost!"

Everyone stopped and stared at Roger, even Mr. James, who frowned and said, "I'm sorry, what?"

"The ghost. Oh! Yes, that's right, I wasn't…supposed…to mention that… Oops," Roger laughed shakily, looking ridiculous with his fangs.

"To reiterate Mr. James's question," Dave said, "what?"

"Bill, um, he left a note," Roger continued, "explaining about the ghost of Antoinette McNeal, how he goes after anyone who hunts for the treasure, how they're never found…ha."

Roger, suddenly finding himself very unwelcome, picked up his briefcase and scurried out the front door, avoiding the now very concerned stares of those left behind.

Beth crossed her arms and groaned loudly. "Oh, my God! I don't believe this! Do you think Bill planned this?!"

"Oh, it would not surprise me," said Catherine. "He's probably got all kinds of spooks and pranks set up all over the place just to give us all heart attacks. Can this get any worse?"

"Actually, it can," Mr. James mumbled, eyeing the front door with a frown.

"How so?" Lisa asked.

"Roger just locked the front door behind him. That makes the last functioning entry point in the house. We are now officially locked in here for the night, people!" Mr. James declared loudly.

"What?!" Everyone else cried, instantly scrambling for the front door, climbing over each other as their panic grew. Everyone, that is, save for Dave and Lisa, who stood next to Mr. James, crestfallen.

"Sweetheart, when I'm senile and on my deathbed, remind me to beat the crap out of Bill when I walk through the Pearly Gates," Dave said, turning to Lisa with a dry smirk as Mr. James sighed and went back into the parlor towards the dry bar.

"Not if I beat you there first," was Lisa's grumbled reply as they both followed Mr. James, suddenly feeling the need for even more alcohol to get through the night.

…

"All right, pumpkin, come on," Mr. James said after everyone had downed a not too healthy supply of hard liquor, tugging at Dave's sleeve. "You can survive a couple of hours without your snuggle mate, right?"

"Snuggle mate?" Dave repeated in disbelief, while Lisa nearly choked on her drink next to him. "Good Lord, can't you people think of any original labels to attach to Lisa or myself? What am I saying…? Don't attach labels to Lisa and/or myself."

"Come on, Dave," Mr. James persisted, managing to drag a reluctant Dave out of his chair. Noticing everybody else's languid behavior, Mr. James practically shouted, "Come on, people it's buried treasure! I don't need the money, but you all might…" His voice trailed off lyrically, the taunt lingering in the air. Everyone shared a look before scrambling to their feet – some unsteadily – and rushing out of the parlor, scattering upstairs and downstairs, Lisa stopping only to give Dave a quick kiss on the cheek before rushing after a chuckling Catherine.

Dave turned to his former boss and threw up his hands in surrender. "All right, sir, where do you want to start?"

"The kitchen, son, the kitchen," Mr. James replied as he steered Dave out into the hall and down to the right, ignoring the intense feeling of cold in his legs. "So, Dave, how are things with you and Lisa?" He asked in a soft voice, clapping him on the shoulder in a friendly manner.

"Quite well, sir," Dave replied, peering at a shattered mirror with distaste. "Actually, very well since we moved in together."

"Uh-huh. So, did you buy it yet?"

"Bought what?"

"The ring."

Dave had picked up a relatively well-preserved vase out of curiosity and dropped it when he heard Mr. James's response. It shattered as he started stammering and stuttering. "W-what, what?! I don't-I didn't-What?!"

"Before you start denying everything, son, you should know that not only do I own Station WNHS, I also own that little jewelry store, what was it, Clanahan's, that you, uh, snuck into last Friday. Which, I actually saw you do, since I was across the street munching down on a nice hot dog at Lou's."

"Uh-huh." Dave nodded along blankly, rubbing his jaw aimlessly.

"So…"

"So…?"

Mr. James pulled Dave in close and slapped him on the shoulder again, grinning deviously. "Where is it? Come on, I know you have it on you. I wanna see it!"

Dave sighed, reached into the pocket of his leather jacket, and pulled out a small, black velvet box and flipped it open, deciding that it would be wiser – and possibly quicker – not to even bother denying everything. Inside the box lay a delicate band of silver inlaid with lyrical spirals of gold, complimenting the round diamond set amidst a gathering of tiny silver ridges.

"Oooh!" You picked a great one, pumpkin!" Mr. James squealed, slapping him on the back again. "You actually paid for this thing, right?" He asked, wisely remembering Lisa's last wedding when her groom had been instantly arrested after the 'I do's for stealing the wedding ring in the first place.

Dave frowned, rolling his eyes. "Sir, do I look like the incarcerated king of the homeless winos to you?"

"Just making sure, Dave, can't have history repeating itself, you know."

"Yeah, yeah. You haven't told anyone else, have you, sir?"

"No, no, 'course not," Mr. James sniffed. "Can't have anyone spoiling the surprise now, you know."

"Of course, sir."

They now stood in a wide, cavernous, gray space, amidst a veritable sea of rusting, crumbling junk. "I think we found the kitchen," Mr. James announced, pointing to the remnants of the refrigerator. "Hmm. Don't think there's any treasure in here."

"What makes you think so, sir?"

"Well, I guessed a stove and…" He pointed to a bare, rectangular patch of relatively gray-free wall. "No damn stove."

"It was an excellent try, sir."

"So, when are you going to ask her?" Mr. James continued, expertly changing the subject.

"I have no clue," Dave admitted. "I want it to be, you know, romantic but…simple, you know, but I think Lisa would prefer it to be extravagant. But if I do it extravagantly, she just might want something simple, and honestly, I don't know what the hell I should do."

"Just ask her, it shouldn't be this complicated, Dave. Do you love her?"

"Of course I love her-"

"Do you want to spend the rest of your life with her?"

"Yes-"

"Then just tell her those two things and ask her! It's not rocket science, son." Then Mr. James broke into a crafty, brilliant little grin. "You could do it tonight."

"I'm sorry?"

"Think about it, Dave. Masquerade ball-"

"A costume party, sir-"

"-mysterious mansion-"

"A condemned wreck-"

"And a treasure hunt for the ages!" Mr. James went on without a beat. "Man, it's like Romancing the Stone, which makes Lisa Miss Kathleen Turner and you Mikey Douglas, boy! A currently very weird-lookin' Mikey Douglas, but Mikey Douglas nonetheless!"

"That's all very nice, sir, but there's a problem with your theory."

"Oh, what's that?"

"There's no psychotic villain to hound the heroes all the way to aforementioned treasure." Dave then smiled wistfully. "Oh, how I miss Bill."

Mr. James sighed, laid his meaty hands on Dave's slim shoulders, and looked the younger man straight in the eye. "Then let me put it to you this way, son. If not now, when?"

Dave blew out a heavy sigh and stared down at the small box in his hand, then back at Mr. James again. "Sir, did you pair us together tonight just so we could talk about this?"

"Yes, sir," Mr. James nodded proudly.

Dave paused for a moment. "Catherine was right, sir, you are way too smart to be president."

"Damn straight."

…

Neither man noticed the pair of cautious, scrutinizing eyes that followed their every move, nor could they hear each muttered curse and acidic comment, nor could they feel the intense, steadily growing fury come from this invisible presence.

"Psychotic villain, huh?" It spat into the darkness, full of bitter resentment. "Oh, I'll give you a psychotic villain…to be damn sure, I'll give you one for the scrapbook!"

…

"Lisa, honey?"

"Yeah, Catherine?" Lisa gave her old friend a beaming smile as they wandered into the dilipidated dining room, where they could hear the loud sounds of Joe rummaging around through a large pile of broken cabinets, while Max tenderly lifted up the large round table's deteriorating tablecloth. It had been far too long since they had all seen Catherine Duke and thus far everyone had taken advantage of it – Joe had already tried out his wiles on her, to no avail, Matthew had hugged her for a good five minutes, and Beth had shown her all the latest fashion designs she'd done. It came as no surprise that, once Mr. James and Dave had headed off on their own, everyone else had abandoned the tag team idea. Everyone, save for Lisa and Catherine.

"I just wanted to apologize again for not being there, for your wedding, sweetie," Catherine said. "It's just, it was so last minute and I had that big conference in Paris-"

"Oh, Catherine, it's fine! If anything, it was my fault for getting married after only a week anyway. A very big mistake that, thankfully, I was able to rectify."

"Good, because honestly, if I had to have one more weekly phone conversation with Dave where he spends the entire time complaining about what a big mistake you made, I'd have gladly walked into the River Thames and drowned myself."

Lisa gave a scoffing laugh. "You and Dave would have weekly phone conversations about me?"

"No, he would call once a week and do nothing but complain. See, the thing is, you know how whenever any one of us would drive Dave nuts, he'd complain about us to you?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, I'm the one he calls whenever you're driving him nuts."

"Uh-huh. And he did this for how long?"

"Right up from the proposal all the way down to when he finally called me and told me he'd moved up here and you were back together."

"Ah." Lisa seemed to mull all the information over. "Do you guys still talk once a week?"

"Yup. Except now I complain about the lack of hot-blooded, single, straight and non-idiotic men in the United Kingdom, and he listens. Isn't karma great?"

Lisa beamed. "It's wonderful." Then she frowned slightly. "Huh."

"Huh what?"

"It's just…When he kept trying to talk me out of marrying Johnny, I always got the impression it was only because we were friends, not because he was…you know… Huh." Lisa's brow furrowed deeper as she started pacing around nervously. Catherine watched her with a growing sense of unease.

"Well, you know, it was probably just because he was still in denial that he had feelings for you, because of the whole…career thing," Catherine finished weakly, losing her point.

"Hmm." Lisa looked at Catherine evenly. "Catherine, you mind if we switch partners?"

Now completely unnerved, Catherine could only nod and smile weakly. Dave, forgive me for what I just unleashed…

…

Lisa found Dave and Mr. James rummaging through in one of the large bedrooms upstairs, closely examining a pile of broken, rusted pipes in one corner.

"Mr. James!" She barked, startling both men out of their skins. "We're switching partners, go find Catherine!"

Mr. James looked at Dave and said, "Damn, pumpkin, what'd you do?"

"How the hell should I know? I've been up here with you!"

"Mr. James," Lisa repeated through clenched teeth and a fake smile, "Catherine's waiting."

Mr. James shrugged and waddled out the door past Dave and a rigid Lisa, saying, "Might as well, anyhow. Can't feel my ass or my legs."

After he was gone, Dave's face scrunched up in concern. "Okay, we really should find him a coat-"

"Dave!" Lisa sniped.

"What?"

At first, Lisa seemed like she was about to burst, pacing to and fro in front of a very confused, and slightly amused, Dave. Then she seemed to loose some steam and calmed down a bit, removing her hat and tossing it carelessly on a wobbly table, which collapsed under the weight. "Dave."

"Yes…?" He asked hesitantly.

"When you were trying to talk me out of marrying Johnny, were you doing it because you were my friend and you thought I was doing something reckless and impulsive or were you doing it because you were in love with me?" She finally asked, talking fast, anxiously, tucking a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear.

Dave, taken aback, could only blink in shock. "Ummm…excuse me?"

"Were you doing it as a friend or as my ex-boyfriend?" Lisa grumbled impatiently.

"W-why do you want to know?"

"Oh, Catherine and I were talking about my getting married too fast and I started wondering why you were so hellbent on talking me out of marrying Johnny, and now I just can't stop thinking about it," Lisa cried, starting to pace again. "So if you would please answer the question-!"

She turned around on him so suddenly that the abrupt movement sent him toppling onto the ripped, decayed mattress lying on top of the rickety brass frame. The entire thing shuddered upon impact.

"Join me, lover?" He smiled seductively.

"Dave!"

"Oh, God, if I answer your question, will you calm down?"

"Yes!"

"Oh, fine. Uh…." He removed the outrageous wig and ran a hand through his short hair, shaking his head. "I guess…"

"You guess?"

"I think, I mean, it is…both."

"Both?"

"Well, one definitely more so than the other…Actually, one of them sort of acted as a cover for the other one…. Because I was, I mean, I am in love with you."

Lisa opened her mouth to speak, but Dave held up a hand, interrupting her. "But…I wasn't honest about why I was doing it because…well, after the way things ended between us, I didn't want to risk telling you and having to hear that you didn't…love me back. Does that make sense?"

Lisa nodded silently, moving closer to Dave and spoke softly, eyeing him steadily. "You know…if you had just been honest about this from the start, you could have saved me a lot of money in divorce lawyers…"

Dave cringed. "Damn it, I really can be such a bastard."

"A very stupid one at that," Lisa laughed softly. "But it's all over now…and we're back together…and we're living together…" She gently lowered herself down until she lay right on top of Dave and kissed him. "So I'd say things are going pretty damn good… And its nice to know that you've never stopped loving me, you know?"

"God, I never noticed this before," Dave muttered between kisses.

"What?"

"You have quite a bit of ego on you…"

"Dave!" She snickered, pushing him back down on the bed and kissing him again. "Dave, what's that in your pocket?"

Dave suddenly and visibly paled, shifting out from under Lisa, panicked. "Nothing. Just something I probably should put back in my coat," he told himself sternly as she tried to peek from behind him to see what he now had in his hands.

"Dave! What are you hiding?" Lisa kept ducking around as he kept trying to hide it from her. "Come on, I thought we were being more honest with each other!"

"Awww! Fine!" Dave muttered softly, groaning loudly as he faced her again, slowly loosening his grip about the small box. He cringed, afraid of what would happen next.

Lisa saw what he held and gasped faintly, looking up at him in disbelief. "Dave?"

"I was really hoping to do this somewhere else… Somewhere less…"

"Insane?"

"Yeah…More romantic, with definitely more planning…" Dave grew more crestfallen with each word, already dreading what the possible answer would be. "I'm sorry-"

"Dave." The change in Lisa's voice drew his gaze back up to hers. "Ask me."

"Huh?"

"Ask. Me." She was smiling brilliantly, tears starting to brim in her eyes.

"O-oh… Oh…" Dave smiled too, sliding off the bed until he was on one knee and opened the box.

It was at that point that the floor and wall opened up, sending Dave, Lisa and the bed sliding down into oblivion in a flurry of screams and clattering metals, before the floor and wall returned to their proper places with such a graceful ease that it appeared that they had never been there at all.