* * *

"Just the place" turned out to be a six-story brick building in the Gaslamp District on the corner of 4th and J Street. She parked in the miniscule, private lot stuffed between two buildings, got out and began to gather up the shopping bags from the cargo area while he sat there in confusion.

"Uh, 'Chele..."

"Some help would be nice," she interrupted, her tone brusque.

"Right. Help." Getting out, he took up his share of the bags, including the now oddly out of place, brown paper bag from this morning. His number of possessions had increased dramatically in the last few hours.

Hands full, he followed her to the security door at the back of the building and watched as she not only dug out keys, but also punched in a long string of numbers into a keypad mounted on the wall. The scent of Chinese food wafted about them and became noticeably stronger once they had entered the plainly decorated back hallway of the building, making his stomach growl loudly in response.

"I see Mr. Kim has made another convert," she commented as she led him towards the elevator.

"Huh?" he asked, sure he was impressing her with his brilliant repartee.

"Ground floor is The White Dragon. Best Chinese food in the city. Mr. Kim is the head chef. I'll have them deliver a selection if you like," she offered offhandedly while the elevator rumbled upwards, taking them to the top floor.

"Delivered where?" He still wasn't sure what was going on or what she was planning this time and after the long day he was no longer quite willing to just go along for the ride.

"You'll see," she responded egnimatically as the car stopped and the doors opened, allowing them to step from the elevator.

The stepped out into a foyer that, while nearly identical in shape and size to the one on the ground floor, was still completely different in appearance. For an instant Darien wondered if the product of Otis' imagination had acted as a primitive time machine given the turn of the century feel to the area they were in. Classic chandeliers of wrought iron with crystal teardrops to catch the light hung in regular intervals from the ceiling. The wall sconces were of the same style and contained light bulbs that simulated gaslight. The walls were made of a dark red brick, which matched the exterior of the building.

There were only two doors visible, one on either side of the long hallway that presumably ran the width of the building. He could make out a window at the far end, but that was all. Going to the left-hand door, which had an identical security set-up to the one at the entrance to the building, 'Chele opened it and entered.

Darien followed along and copied 'Chele as she set the bags down along the exterior counter for the kitchen. Whatever this place was it most certainly not a hotel of any kind. "'Chele, what is this ... place?" Looking about he was captured by the wall of arching windows right in front of him. "Whoa, what a view."

The angled kitchen allowed views of both the front door and the main living area, he couldn't say room as it appeared to be a studio and lacking separate rooms. The windows offered an impressive view of the Pacific even with darkness swiftly deepening towards night, the last vibrant reds and oranges of the sunset fading into indigo.

"Not bad if you don't mind having to look over the Convention Center," she commented, setting her hands on his shoulders and removing his jacket while he stood there still stunned. Part of him noted the closet she hung it in near the front door, but the rest was trying to absorb the situation at hand.

"The place is fully furnished, right down to pans and silverware. Food is a different story, though I think there's some bottled water and wine in the fridge." She waved at the room in question before continuing. "Apartment-sized washer and dryer off the kitchen, a huge walk in closet accessible from both the laundry and the bathroom. The bathroom was described as decadent and I must agree with that assessment. Shower only, I'm afraid, but a large one." She had been moving about the room, but stopped and looked back at Darien, who hadn't budged from his position near the kitchen.

He was still giving the place the once over, partially out of habit, assessing and cataloguing every detail, all while adding up the potential value in his mind and was coming up with a number that was surprisingly pricey for a fancy studio. While the walls were done in either the same red brick or dark wood paneling - except the kitchen which was done in a pristine off-white and chrome - the furniture was all done in black and chromed steel. Sofa and chairs in black leather and chrome, her desk was black slab of what appeared to be glass mounted on shiny metal legs. The small dining set matched the desk, but with more elaborate metal work upon it and the oversized futon bed continued the pattern, right down to the black comforter upon it. The few decorations continued the theme, but with a decided Oriental flare, including the gray and black yin-yang tapestry hanging between two of the windows and over the bed.

"Darien, are you okay?"

"Ummm, yeah. What is this place?" He was beyond curious by now.

"Oh, it's mine. Bought it about nine months ago since I'm down here at least a couple times a month for work. This big joint project with the local CDC office. Got tired of paying for hotel rooms." she explained casually. "You're welcome to it for as long as you need."

"'Chele, I can't ... won't ... do that." He wanted to get this right and didn't need or want handouts to get back on track. The shopping spree was one thing, which he fully intended on paying her back for, but this... This was something else entirely.

"Shit, Darien, get off your high horse," 'Chele snapped, startling him. "If you feel it that necessary then pay rent. You could buy this place from me at fair market value and it wouldn't put much of a dent in those jewels." She sounded more than a mite testy at the moment.

"And how would you know that?" He tried to stay calm, not wanting her mood to deteriorate even further.

"I had them appraised, of course. I think even you will be surprised at their value," she told him as she tossed the hat onto the dining table and then scooted past him to cart away a few of the bags, presumably to the as yet unseen closet.

Darien tried to wrap him mind around her words with little success. "You did what?"

"I had the stones appraised by a very reputable company that I've dealt with before. Since they're only rough-cut there are no jeweler signatures imbedded it makes them virtually untraceable, which I am quite sure you already knew," she answered as she continued moving the results of their trip to the mall. "In fact, I can probably arrange for them to be sold legitimately. That should net you at least a third more than you could get by fencing them locally."

Darien was flabbergasted. When had she gone and decided to play middleman for him? There was no way she could know how risky it was. Yeah, he got off on the risk, the danger, just another rush of the myriad ones he achieved with his less-than-legal second profession. There was little chance that was why she was doing it and, skills he had taught her aside, there was no way in hell she knew enough to pull off these forays onto the shady side of the law without getting caught.

"Are you a complete fool?" he snarled.

'Chele froze, her hands tightening on the handles of the bags she held until the knuckles turned white. With a soft growl she picked up her forward motion and vanished into the doorway that he guessed led to the bathroom and the closet within. When she reappeared he could see on her face that the explosion was imminent.

"Ya know, I must be, 'cause here I am trying to help a friend out of a tight spot and he's too goddamned proud to even bother seeing that what I'm doing is nothing, a mere drop in the bucket of what I'd gladly or willingly do with no questions asked." She stalked past him while he stood there in awe of her impressive, though cutting, run-on sentence. She grabbed the last few bags to stash them away as well all the while grumbling aloud. "Oh no, he has to..." her voice trailed off to an indistinguishable mumble as she vanished out of sight, but she was back in seconds. "... then he has the audacity to treat me like some puling child, as if I have no common sense whatsoever. As if I have no idea what I'm doing even though it may be no more than an interesting hobby for me. Oh no, first he vanishes on me and then tries to lecture me about skills he bloody well taught me."

By this point she was pacing the breadth of the apartment, windows to wall near the kitchen, her hands waving about as she ranted, but her words hit home. He'd been trying so hard, in his own way, to protect her that he'd forgotten she was fully capable of handling it on her own. Perhaps even better in some ways as she had highbrow connections he had yet to cultivate for himself.

"All I want to do is help and he all but spits in my face in some sort of macho need to be the Alpha male."

Damn if that one wasn't right on the mark. "'Chele..."

"... doesn't seem to appreciate a damn thing I do, can't bend enough to accept just a little help when he needs it. Won't..." The flow of words hadn't slowed one whit, her dander was so up.

Going to her, he set his hands on her shoulders to stop her headlong pacing, and spun her about. Before she could say a single word in protest he cupped her cheeks with his hands and kissed her.

At first she didn't react, her posture stiff and unyielding, until suddenly it was like she melted. Her entire body relaxing as her hands wandered to settle upon his hips.

Now that they were here, with her tasting like liquid sunshine, the simple kiss he had planned to use to distract her was instead quite effectively distracting him and he found himself unwilling to step back. Sliding the tip of his tongue along her lips caused her to shiver, delicate tremors running through her that he could feel.

Pulling away before he couldn't, he looked down at her and smiled when she sighed deeply. "Thank you." At those words the last of the anger in her eyes guttered and went out. "'Chele..."

She shifted his hands away from her face and took a step back. "Why don't you go shower and I'll order some dinner from downstairs."

Food or sex, what a tough choice as his body was craving both at the moment. However, the thought of a real shower was like a slice of heaven handed to him with no catch. She must have seen his reaction, because she chuckled and nudged him into motion.

"Come on."

The bathroom was beyond decadent. More of those huge windows along one wall provided ambient light, though in here they were covered in opaque blinds to keep the neighbors across the street from getting a free show. There was an oversized pedestal sink in one corner and a luxurious glass-enclosed shower in another. Toilet had its own room, and there was a linen closet to the right of the doorway. Like the kitchen it was done in off-white tile and chrome. The door in the bathroom led to the walk-in closet that doubled as a dressing room, complete with mirrors, bureau and a dressing table.

Not only had she brought the shopping bags into the room, but she'd put most of it away, a section of shelves and hangers now bearing his new clothes. There were only a few things of hers about though there was a garment bag hanging in one corner underneath which was a duffel bag and an odd-looking briefcase.

"Here," she said, handing him a bag bearing the logo of Nouveau on the side. "Katrina recommended these to keep your hair gorgeous."

Glancing in the bag Darien found a couple hundred dollars worth of hair care products. Shampoos, conditioners, mousses, gels, you name it.

"When did you manage this?"

"You can't think snapping a few pics take all that long?" she smiled. "Now you go enjoy the shower. No worries about bending over here."

Darien felt the blood drain from his face. It was a joke, he knew it was a joke, nothing more than a silly off-hand comment about the ultimate prison cliche. Yet it still sent shock waves rolling through him. She didn't know... couldn't know, and so he forced the hurt and anger away, plastered a realistic smile on his face and chuckled. "Well, except from you." The jovially spoken words were forced past his lips.

She seemed to fall for it. "Me? I'm not dangerous." Her smile softened. "Enjoy. I'll order food." And with that she turned and left the room, which allowed Darien to finally shudder, the memory not allowing him to escape completely this time.