Author's Note: This is my favorite scene from the episode, so I haven't changed it much. Mostly just the internal thoughts at the end, I just love the back and forth too much to mess with it. The italics indicate a scene from a movie that is playing. I hope you enjoy it. - Kes

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The next day, Nancy found herself once again in the penthouse's home theater. There she sits beside Rathbone watching movies twenty to forty years older than she was. There was only one thing in common with every movie that they watched. Each and every one of them started Greata.

Currently, a woman dressed in lace, with her hair in an updo, is sitting at a table in the back of a restaurant. A man approaches and sits down next to her. "I don't seem to remember inviting you to my table," says the woman.

"Just an oversite," says the man giving her a wry smile, "on your part. I'll ignore it this time."

"Do you realize Mr. McCall how easily I could have you thrown out of this restaurant?" the woman retorts.

The man unclasps and reclasps his hands, "You realize how noisy it would be if someone tried?"

The woman gets out a cigarette and leans in towards McCall, he gives her a light. "You don't give up do you?" she asks.

"Not when I'm involved with a beautiful woman."

"Just how long do you think you can keep this up," Nancy asks, as she turns to look at Rathbone. She had decided to work on getting him to understand she wasn't a prize to be kept. It was the easiest of the three major problems that she could solve. Though she didn't have much faith it would work she couldn't just continue to sit and do nothing, especially when she knew in her heart the Hardys were looking for her.

"Keep what up," replies Rathbone never taking his gaze away from the movie.

"I'm not going to give up," Nancy says forcefully. "I'm going to keep trying to get out. Till you have to let me go. Or …"

"Or what my dear Greata," angrily replies Rathbone.

Nancy takes a deep breath, "Or kill me." Rathbone turns to look at Nancy. "And I'm not Greata, you know that. That's Greata up there." She points to the movie screen trying to reason with the man.

The woman in lace is looking over at her companion. "How many times do you have to be thanked?"

McCall gives her a smile and takes her hand. "Just once, with feeling."

The woman counters with, "look I really am expecting someone. Just what …"

Nancy looks over at her captor and shakes her head, "How long are you going to live this fantasy?"

"You could call me Robert for a start."

Rathbone gets up and starts to walk around the room stopping briefly in front of different movie posters, then finally settling on a painting of a woman in her thirties wearing the same lace dress as Nancy. "She was the most breathtaking woman that I had ever seen. Every move every gesture was poetry. She was so full of vitality of life."

Nancy countered with facts, "She married you. Squandered millions of your dollars and then left you one morning without a note. Without one word of goodbye. That's the reality, that's the woman your morning over."

"How do you know she left," Rathbone asks with curiosity.

"Everyone knows," she replies.

Rathbone walks back towards Nancy, "Everyone knows what is reported in the newspaper. But does everyone know the truth?"

"What are you afraid of?" demands McCall.

"I'm not afraid of anything," the woman replies.

Rathbone turns around in a circle taking in all the different images of his lost love. "Suppose she is here. Here, right now." He sits back down "Here in this penthouse."

Nancy looks over at him, "You mean buried here?" Murder was the one thing she didn't think he was capable of, and now … she studies his reaction.

The old man shrugs his shoulders "Who can say for sure?"

Nancy isn't sure what to make of that. His body language seems to suggest that he is joking, but she has found him hard to read in the past.

"I'm talking about a man named Caser DeMar."

"I never believed what I read in the papers," states Rathbone, bringing a hand up to his chin. "I haven't picked up a newspaper since the uh Kennedy Assassination in 1963."

Nancy looks at him in disbelief, "That's almost forty years."

He nods to himself, "So it is, so it is. I can't say I miss knowing what's happened to the rest of the world. It doesn't seem to eh effective my life any."

"What does affect your life," she demands. "You've cut yourself off from reality. You've buried yourself up here in your ivory tower." The more she learned, the more afraid she became. Give her a straight-up killer anytime, at least then she could read and predict their actions. Someone who had no belief in the real world, however …

Rathbone laughs interrupting her thoughts "You think I'm insane."

Realizing she has hit a sore spot Nancy softens her voice, "Not insane … just you've lost perspective on the real world." She needs to back off this topic quickly. So far Rathbone had never lifted a hand to hit or physically abuse her, that was the other man's job when needed, but she would never put it past him.

Once again, the old man gets up, turns, and towers over her, "You really think that. That's the way an empire like mine is run? With a warped perspective?" He chuckles and raises a hand to his head. He points to his head and makes circles to indicate crazy, "poor old Rathbone batty as a coot. Sits all day looking at old movies of an old flame while his empire crumbles around him. You really believe that don't you."

Nancy can't look him in the eye and glances away. He comes closer and leans so she can't avoid eye contact, "Well let me tell you. I know every account of every company I own to the cent. I operate them right from this suite. I have for over twenty years. All I need is a telephone and some loyal employees. But not stupid ones."

He straightens up and has Nancy's undivided attention, "that's when you first came to my attention. Your dogged pursuit of young Keller. My associates wanted you killed."

"I almost wish they followed through," she states defiantly. A quick end in her opinion would have been better than this cage. This drug-induced fuzzy world she was forced to live in, where she could barely concentrate. Where she couldn't protect herself from him, from Rathbone.

This snaps something in Rathbone. He waves his hand in front of her face as he goes back to his seat. "No, you didn't. Because life, life is equally possessed by all of us and when we lose it, it cannot be replaced." He gives Nancy a firm look, "That's why you're not going to try to escape. You're going to accept it."

Nancy takes a deep breath and tries again, "accept what?" She tries her best not to let her voice waver. Has she not been accepting enough? She played the role of Greata most days without complaint or escape attempt. But he had to know that she couldn't stay forever, right? She had her own life to live. She had friends, family, and someone she loved. Staying here wasn't an option.

"That you are going to spend the rest of my life here with me," Rathbone states clearly. "When I die your free to go, unharmed. So, you see it is useless to try to escape."

"Who is he, and what does he do," demands McCall.

The woman in lace smiles, "He buys and sells things. Drugs, artifacts, contraband, people. There is not an ounce of compassion in his entire body. He's totally ruthless. He'll kill you."

Nancy wasn't giving up she had been thinking about what to say next, "I won't have to escape. They'll come for me."

Clearly amused Rathbone looks over at her and smiles, "Who? The police? The FBI? Your friends? Your Family? It's been six months; they think you're dead. And you are … to them."

Nancy's face falls, Rathbone sounds so certain. She must keep believing someone will either come for her or that she will find her own way out. Nancy closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, then opens them to glare at the old man, "He will find me, he always does. That's what we do. We rescue each other."

Rathbone pats her hand and lets out a small laugh, "I think you've been watching too many movies. There are no knights in shining armor in the real world. No one knows you're here, and here you'll stay."

Her mind races as she tries to think of something else, some other way of appealing to the old man.

"He has guards around him at all times," the woman says while shaking her head. "You'll never get into that villa."

McCall pulls away from the lady, "If I don't, you may lose a daughter. I saw her."

The woman gets excited, "What when?"

"Last night, at least I think it was her."

"You were at the villa?"

Rathbone gets up and starts to leave, Nancy turns around in her chair. "You told me I remind you of Greata. That's why you love me," she lets some vulnerability into her voice.

He turns around and shakes his head, "That's why I dressed you in lace, old lace. She always wore that. In this half-light. You are Greata."

Tears of frustration start to flow down her cheeks, "If you love me, and that's why you spared my life. Then let me go. I'll come and visit you any time you say. We could talk. …"

He shakes his figure at her interrupting, "You're missing the best part of the film." Rathbone leaves the room.

Nancy with tears flowing freely turns back aground and resigns herself to finishing the movie. After all, these are for her benefit so that she can learn Greata's movements and gestures. That way becoming the more perfect princess in this half-light. What Rathbone hadn't figured out yet was that she was studying Greata alright but so she would know what movements and gestures to not ever display in front of that horrible man.

Worried the woman whispers, "Promise me you'll be careful."

"I'll be careful," replies McCall. Tears have escaped the woman's eyes. The man leans over and wipes them off with a figure. "Don't waste those on me. Save them for the right man at the right time."

The lady gives him a wry smile and softly says, "I have." She leans in and the two parties share a sweet kiss.

McCall pulls away, "Goodnight, Mrs. Jordan, I'll be seeing you." Then he leaves the table.

Mrs. Jordan watches him go wistfully, "I don't think you will, Mr. McCall."

Nancy sits half watching, half planning her next move. In the movie, Mrs. Jordan gets the charming detective, Mr. McCall, to help her. Thanks to her father's special she knew that the Hardys would be looking for her, but when had it aired? Was it yesterday, the day before? It couldn't have been more than three days. She just hoped that the boys were in L.A. by now.

Just as she thought about the pair, Frank's face came to her forefront. Frank with his gentle smile and eyes that sparkled when he was in the middle of a mystery. Who could make her smile or exasperate her beyond measure with just a raise of his eyebrow? Through her tears, she forms a slight smile. A wave of exhaustion came over her as she started to calm down. "Frank, where are you. I don't think I can pretend to be her for very much longer."

She relaxes back into her chair. At least now she knew there was a phone in the penthouse, a phone meant help was closer than she had thought. Now she had a new goal, find a way to the phone.