By the time Darien vacated the bathroom he had some sort of control back, after having dealt with another bout of the shakes while standing under the streaming water of the shower. He knew it was gonna take time, knew he should probably call one of the names on the list the doc at the prison infirmary had given him, but he also knew he wouldn't, that he'd get through it by himself...somehow.

He wandered barefoot across the smooth warm wood of the floor, the soft golden lighting putting him at ease and relaxing him even more. Holding the paper sack from that morning in one hand, he headed to the kitchen in search of a drink. He quickly discovered 'Chele had been correct in her assessment of the refrigerator's contents; there were assorted bottles of Evian and Perrier, half-empty bottles of wine - two red and one zinfandel - and, much to his relief, four stray cans of Coca-Cola shoved all the way in back. Popping the top of one, he drank down a fair portion before looking about for Michele.

He discovered her, or her now bare feet anyway, hanging off the end of the sofa and tapping to some unheard music. Carrying both the soda and the bag he joined her in the sparsely furnished living area. The entire place was lacking all those homey touches he knew she had at her house in Escondido, but considering this was her second home and only used occasionally it made sense that she'd not invested large quantities of money in it. He set the bag down on one of the leather chairs and the soda on the small table next to it, noting that the square coffee table was set for dinner. Bamboo place mats, napkins, plates, chopsticks sitting on their rests along with matched wineglasses. There were also two large black cushions on the floor on opposite sides of the table. Apparently they would be eating their Chinese dinner Japanese style.

'Chele had not yet acknowledged his presence near her, but since she was reading printouts he expected to be relegated to secondary importance. Glancing over at her desk, he was not surprised to learn that the briefcase he'd seen in her closet contained an unusual and impressive-looking computer. He'd be willing to bet even money it was not something to be found available to the public at large. Her brother Patrick was quickly making a name for himself in the computer industry and often made sure his little sister had top notch tech. In fact, Darien was the owner of several toys that Patrick had a hand in creating with the help of Michele. Not for the first time he realized that 'Chele was far too good for the likes of him, though he was thankful every day of his life that she was willing to be a part of it.

His eyes drifted back to Michele as she flipped a page of the printout and huffed to herself. He couldn't help but notice she barely filled two thirds of the sofa. An entire cushion lay empty between the top of her head and the far arm. It was probably more than long enough for him to stretch out on in complete comfort, but that had always been a quirk of hers. She may be petite, but she inevitably took into consideration that the majority of those about her weren't and tended to run her life to accommodate them.

Stepping to the end of the sofa he reached out and ran his thumb firmly along the arch of her foot and chuckled as her toes curled and then spread in reaction. "Work?" he asked softly, not wanting to interrupt her if it was important.

"Of a sort," she muttered, sounding more than a little distracted.

"When will you be heading back?" Both of his hands were now working on her feet and he smiled when she groaned in reaction. He was actually surprised at how tense she was; he could only wonder what had created it and hope it wasn't him.

"Couple of weeks. I was long overdue for a vacation." She set the papers on the floor and looked up at him. "If you don't mind sharing this place that is."

"Fine with me. I could use a friendly face about." His brows knit together as he debated how to broach the one subject he'd wanted to talk about since her offhanded comment at the salon. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure." She had closed her eyes and was practically purring her enjoyment.

"Why'd you tell Katrina that I wasn't your type?"

Her eyes flew open and in one smooth motion that reminded Darien of how very limber she was, she leaned forward, her feet not shifting one millimeter. He froze as she proceeded to shove a hand into a front pocket of his jeans. When she didn't find what she was after she dove into the other side and hunted about until she retrieved the prize.

Darien did his damnedest to not react, though with her fingers wiggling about in there not reacting was a near impossibility. A second later she removed her hand and held up the business card Katrina had handed him.

"This is why." 'Chele told him.

Darien shrugged. "So she gave me her phone number. No big deal."

She shook her head and sighed dramatically. "D, by the time we left you could have had your pick of the women there, including the other patrons." Darien just stared at her in total disbelief. "Shoot, every - and I do mean every - gay male in there was wiping the drool off their chins. If I had said, 'Oh, we boink on a regular basis' all those adoring admirers would have been greatly disappointed and you would not have the first, on what is sure to be a long list, of ladies to call upon for some afternoon delight."

Darien took the card from her and stared at it in consternation as she flopped back onto the sofa. "You want me to call her?"

"Sure, why not? Bet she'd even be willing to head out tonight. Hell, you could probably even get lucky if you play things right." 'Chele stretched her arms up over her head causing the white tank top that was no longer hidden by the work shirt to ride up and reveal the smooth expanse of her belly.

"I was kinda hoping to spend some time with you," he mumbled, stuffing the card back into his pocket and moving away from her.

"Darien..." she began, only to be interrupted by knocking on the front door. Rolling off the sofa, she got to her feet and padded softly to the door. Darien turned and watched her, not quite sure how to react. Granted, he had no reason to expect anything from her. After his screw-up he should probably be happy that she was willing to put up with him for a couple of weeks.

As soon as the door opened she began a rapid-fire discussion with whoever was on the other side in what he could only assume was Chinese. She took the box their food was packed into and turned about, glancing back at Darien. "Dare, if you would grab the rest I'd appreciate it."

He nodded and joined her, taking possession of two bottles of wine while she dug into a pocket and came up with a $10 bill for the decidedly oriental-looking kid standing there. They exchanged a few more words; then the kid pocketed the money with a broad smile and took off. 'Chele bumped the door closed with her hip and carried the prize over to the living room, then set the box in the center of the table. "There should be a corkscrew in the drawer second from the left of the sink."

"On it." He set the bottles down on the counter, then went hunting. He was amused at how disorganized the contents were. It was nice to know 'Chele hadn't changed all that much over the years. He found it buried in the back corner, which was somewhat odd considering the open bottles in the fridge. "Uh, any preference on which one?" He was looking over the bottles in an attempt to ascertain the contents, but discovering he couldn't read either label as they were done in exclusively Chinese characters.

"Open both. One's a pinot grigio and the other should be a pinot noir. The Dragon has them specially made," 'Chele told him as she continued unpacking the various containers, whose scents were slowly driving him towards insanity and making his stomach growl its approval.

He made short work with the corkscrew and joined her just a couple minutes later, settling cross-legged down on the thick cushion and placing the bottles on the table. He chose one at random, then poured a generous amount into both glasses and took a sip after setting the bottle down. It was definitely not his usual flavor, but not all that bad either and was perfectly good for getting him buzzed, which was another thing he'd missed while in prison.

"Oooh, the noir, good choice." 'Chele commented as she set aside the carton and slid one of the Chinese food boxes towards him. "General Tso's, extra spicy. Just the way you like it."

Darien's mouth began to water; he snatched at the cardboard box and dug right in, heedless of all the trouble she'd gone to. "Gimme."

She laughed and passed over it along with some fried rice and soy sauce packets. "Greedy."

"Hey, I got a lot of quality eating time to make up for," he responded as he grabbed the chopsticks and began to eat directly out of the box, completely forgetting his resolve to attempt to be a gentleman.

"I noticed." 'Chele added an assortment from various boxes to her plate before returning them to the center of the table.

"Whaddya mean ya noticed?" Darien asked around a tasty morsel of chicken. It had been a long damn time since he'd enjoyed eating this much and he planned on savoring every single bite.

She raised a single eyebrow and finished chewing. "Darien, you've lost a good twenty pounds since I last saw you." She stabbed a chopstick in his direction. "And while it's obvious you've been working out, lifting weights wouldn't account for such a dramatic change."

Darien just shrugged. "Not like there's a whole lot to do inside." Looking over the other open boxes, he grabbed one filled with lo mein and shoveled a pile onto his plate. He added the portions of several other containers until his plate was full before glancing over at her.

She was watching him over the top of her wineglass as she drank, making his throat tighten unexpectedly in reaction. "No, I don't imagine there is," she commented quietly as she set the now empty glass back down and poured herself some more. "So what's in the bag? Didn't think they handed out 'Bon Voyage' gifts when you make parole."

Darien snorted. "They don't." He dipped the sweet and sour chicken in the sauce and took a bite, then reached behind him to retrieve the bag from where it still sat on the chair just as that first shift in reality from the alcohol hit him. He set the bag beside him as he rummaged in it one-handed as he continued munching on the variety of foodstuffs. "It's just my stuff, is all." He found the manila envelope his wallet had been stored in and pulled it out, wanting to make sure that the majority of the items that had been in it when he was incarcerated were still there.

"Cool, my license is still valid," he mumbled around a mouthful of pork fried rice, causing Michele to shake her head slightly. He found the couple of credit cards he owned and was hoping he'd paid the balances off before getting caught or his credit would be in the crapper. Then he found the photos. Several were of 'Chele and went back several years; the oldest was about a decade out of date, at a guess, which made him do a double-take. "'Chele, how old are you?"

"I'll be 29 end of the month, why?" she asked in curiosity.

Darien waved her over and set the series of photos down on the table to show her. With the exception of the changing hairstyle and a maturity to her features, the images were nearly identical. "Where're you hiding that fountain of youth?"

'Chele snickered as she looked over the pictures. "Just good genes, D. You met my parents, they were in their 50s when they died."

Darien couldn't stop the look of surprise that crossed his features. "Nuh-uh,"

"Uh-huh. Remember, Jacob is six years older than me and Mikey." she reminded him. Instead of moving back she dragged the pillow over to sit on and then her plate as she picked up a stray piece of rice with the chopsticks. "You've aged rather gracefully yourself, ya know."

Darien didn't make any comment and continued going through the items in the bag. When he set the tightly rolled bills down 'Chele whistled softly. "Worked the laundry. Net me a few bucks, anyway."

She set down her chopsticks and picked up the glass, swirling the wine about a bit for a moment before finishing it off. "Darien, are you planning to continue teaching?" She sounded oddly uncomfortable to his ears.

"I'd like to, but I have this feeling my previous clients won't rehire me." He was fully aware of the reality of the situation and had planned to find other work to rebuild his reputation while selling off the jewels as his actual source of income.

"I ... At the risk of you getting all pissy at me again, I can help with that if you're willing." She was watching him, her look carefully controlled.

It was his turn to down the rest of the wine in his glass and refill it while he pondered her words, trying to discern her meaning from her one short statement. "I guess that would depend on what you mean by 'help'."

She shifted, leaning back against the sofa and to all appearances relaxing. "I mean that I know some ... people who would be interested in hiring a tutor of your ability. It's a variety of grade levels, but I seem to recall you don't mind that."

That was more than true enough, though he especially liked teaching the grade school level kids; there was just some odd connection he could make with them. And watching them light up upon finding that sudden love for reading was its own reward. "I'm sensing a catch."

A frown crossed her features. "They are all, hmmm, wealthy in one way or another. Scientists, local politicians, people like that. I can guarantee they will run a background check..."

"I do not steal from the people I work for," Darien stated emphatically, hoping like hell she didn't even entertain the possibility that he might. Okay, admittedly he'd cased the places as a matter of habit, but that was it. He'd made and stuck to that rule from day one. He might have a "second" job, but he made damned sure to keep it separate from his regular one because, when push came to shove, teaching was his real love.

"I know and I'm not accusing you of doing so, just ... explaining the situation." Her tone held no apology, was simply matter of fact. "That's why I'm willing to vouch for you. They'll probably hire you on a probationary basis at first, but knowing you, you'll have no problems proving that you were worth taking the chance on."

Once again her quiet confidence in him stunned him. "You'd do that for me?"

"If you'll let me," she said, tipping her head slightly to one side as she watched him.

Darien pondered her offer while he continued munching on the little food that remained on his plate and washed it down with more of the wine before responding. "Yeah, if you would."

She nodded. "Can I make a suggestion as well?"

"Shoot." He poured more of the wine and pouted to when only a small amount dribbled out. Michele handed over the bottle of grigio and he poured it in with the red, knowing it couldn't be worse than some of the things he'd drunk in his life.

"Volunteer at an after-school program helping kids with their homework. Most Ys or Boys & Girls clubs run them." She wavered between enthusiasm and this endearing shyness, as if afraid he was going to bite her head off for suggesting something he had been planning to do anyway.

"'Chele, as always, you are wise beyond your years," he told her, and raised the glass in toast before swallowing down about half. He was well on his way to a solid evening of drunken revelry. And as far as he was concerned he had plenty to celebrate.

'Chele smiled in amusement. "Already planned on that, didn't you?"

"Yep," he agreed and nearly swallowed his tongue when she casually licked a drop of sweet and sour sauce off the end of the battered piece of chicken and it struck him as enticingly erotic. Now that his initial hunger for sustenance was currently sated, other hungers had awoken and were making it quite clear what they wanted to satisfy them.

Darien remembered very little of the next 15 minutes as they chatted quietly about, what he hoped, was nothing in particular as she was quite thoroughly distracting him without any effort at all. It wasn't until she quite blatantly leaned over to give him an excellent view of her cleavage that he realized she was teasing him, playing him like a finely tuned instrument.

With a soft growl of pent up frustration he went after her. "You little minx." His voice was low and rough as he grabbed her by the arms even as she tried to get away.

She squealed with laughter as his weight settled upon her thighs, preventing her from moving more than a few inches. "What's the matter?" Somehow she managed to sound completely innocent even through the giggles.

"'What's the matter?' You're sitting there all innocent-looking and making me react like I'm 17 again," Darien explained in exasperation. That was putting it mildly, to say the least, like her normal version of getting him all hot and bothered wasn't bad enough. This, after going damn close to a year without sex, was driving him right up the wall.

"Me? Would I do a thing like that?" She glared up at him in challenge.

"In a heartbeat," he stated boldly. "And since you seem so fond of torture tonight, I think its only right I get my share in." He shifted a bit and secured both of her wrists with one hand, leaving his other free to do as it pleased with her entire torso.

"Darien, don't do it," she warned, already trying to squirm out from under him. They both knew she could get away if she really wanted or needed to. That one or both of them would probably end up injured in the process made her struggles for release half-hearted, at best. She knew he would stop instantly if she truly became frightened.

"Do what? This, perhaps?" He curled the fingers of his hand along her ribs, wiggling them for full effect, causing her to arch her back and succumb to a fit of uncontrollable laughter. "Or maybe this?" His hand moved to run his fingers along her now exposed abdomen, just barely touching the flesh as the muscles tightened in reaction.

"Oh, hell," she panted in reaction. "Shit, Dare, please." She was begging now, but he didn't stop. Not yet.

It wasn't until she had reached that point where speech was nigh onto impossible, where every breath was a whooping intake, when the tears from the several long minutes of non-stop laughter were running down her face that he paused. Releasing her hands he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Now we're even." The pressure of his hands firmed, caressing the overly sensitive skin and muscles of her torso, feeling how they twitched in reaction as if in anticipation of more tickling.

"Not even," she grumbled as she lay there limply trying to catch her breath. "I didn't make you beg ... yet."

Darien froze for a second; given the variety of ways she had made him beg over the years, he could only wonder what she'd do this time. Still, the trick was to encourage her to do so. "And what makes you think you'll succeed?"

She licked her lips, the tip of her pink tongue sliding back and forth and he found himself unable to look away. "That's why?" she said with a grin when she'd completed the action.

"'Chele..." Whatever he was going to say was forgotten as she lifted her head and ran her tongue across his lips this time. Her hands drifted from where they had lain above her head to rest on his sides, grasp his shirt and begin tugging it up and off him. He shifted enough to assist, sending the article of clothing flying off into the room without a second thought. Michele was swift to return to kissing him, his mouth coming open and eagerly inviting her in.

She, however, was in complete control of the situation and no matter how he tried, how he shifted, how he attempted to distract her, she kept him from getting anywhere near second base, which was causing an inevitable amount of discomfort in certain regions of his anatomy. Becoming increasingly frustrated with the situation and the lack of contact below his waist, he firmly pressed himself against her and thrust slowly, making it blatantly obvious he wanted to move beyond the one-sided teenaged grope-fest they were currently participating in. She seemed to pay his efforts no heed and continued with her languorous caresses and expert use of teeth and tongue, professionally dodging of his efforts to move things along to the next step.

Deciding to take a more direct tack, he tried to grab her hands to keep them busy while he worked on divesting her of some clothing only to find himself suddenly on his back with her sitting on his stomach and no idea how he'd gotten there.

"Uh, uh, uh. Naughty boy," she admonished, wagging a finger at him.

Though her tone was light the look in her eyes was surprisingly cool, almost bored. Glancing downward he noted her hardened nipples outlined by the snug-fitting shirt and he reached out to caress her. She allowed it for a few seconds with no change of expression upon her face, then she gently batted his hand away. "Michele..."

"Yes, Darien?"

Suddenly he wasn't sure what to say; he'd never seen her in a mood like this before. "Baby, you all right?" Instead of answering she leaned forward, bracing her hands to either side of him and kissed him lightly, her lips just barely brushing across his and making him groan in reaction. She shifted a bit, her hips now straddling his, but raised up so that the only contact was her knees pressed against his sides.

Sitting up quickly, she stared down at him for a long moment, then shook her head in obvious irritation. "I'm just fine," she snapped. Shifting off him, she began closing the take-out boxes and placing them back in the delivery carton.

Darien could only lie there stunned as she proceeded to carry the leftovers from dinner to the kitchen and try to figure out what he'd done wrong over the course of the last hour to piss her off so badly. "Michele, what's the matter? You worried I'm not gonna return the favor or something?"

She snorted and continued with her clean up. "I never expected that."

That threw him. Shifting, he sat upright on the cushion, retrieved his glass and poured a generous amount of the grigio into it to cover his confusion. Taking a sip, he noted the intense tartness to the wine followed by a surprisingly smooth aftertaste. However, because of 'Chele's sudden mood the flavor was oddly bitter to him. "Sweets, what did I do wrong?"

She shook her head. "Wrong? You?" She plopped down on the sofa and grabbed her half-full glass and downed it. "Seeing as you're ready for round two should I see if I can find that blow-up doll, or you gonna call Katrina now that you have some self-control back?"

Darien blinked and sucked in a breath, needing a moment to recover from a bad case of verbal whiplash. "Awright, where the hell did you get the idea I planned on spending the night with anyone but you?"

One eyebrow rose upwards as she glared at him. "Considering you had no idea I would be picking you up, assuming we'd be spending the night together was a bit presumptuous of you, don't you think?" She kicked at him with her foot, connecting with his calf and sending shooting pain up his leg. "Can't see you boning Kev if he were to...."

"Hold it right there, missy." The mere thought of him and Kev was almost -almost - enough to kill his currently overactive libido. "I'll admit that I was kinda hoping you'd be willing to... but expect it? Never. All you had to do was say no." Ignoring the frown that crossed her features, he sat up, scooted over to her and set a hand on her thigh. "'Chele, if I had been interested in someone else I would have let you know straight off the bat." Her expression didn't change, but even he could tell she was confused. So when she attempted to lean about him to refill her glass to use as a shield, he took it away and set it on the table along with his. "Who do you think I was planning on calling as soon as I had gotten settled?"

"Celia?" she suggested, still not quite able or willing to meet his eyes.

Darien sighed. "Her too. But you were first on my list," he said softly, leaning in to nuzzle the side of her neck.

'Chele pushed him away. "Yeah, soon as you realized the jewels were in my possession." she countered, sounding hurt. "Darien, I... I guess I'm still mad that you didn't let me know you were in trouble, and yet you want me to believe I'd be the first person you'd call when you got out. You just assumed everything would be fine and dandy."

He certainly couldn't argue with that as she had every right to be angry with him. "Michele, I am truly sorry. What I did... it made sense at the time." He captured her face in his hands and rested his forehead against hers. "There is no way I can repay you for this, for being here for me today."

"You don't need to. Friends help each other, remember?" She closed her eyes and relaxed, finally, the tension and residual anger draining away. "So, do you want me to find that blow up doll? It claims to 'feel just like the real thing'."

Darien pondered for a moment. "Depends, does it talk back the way you do?"

"Hey," she backhanded him on the shoulder without force. "This from Mister Oh-Yeah-Baby-Just-Like-That himself."

Darien snickered, "Just proves you do your best work when not talking."

"When my mouth is full, you mean," she muttered as he leaned back in to kiss the sensitive spot under her ear.

"That too," he agreed. This time when he slid his hand under her shirt she didn't stop him and he once again reveled in the fact she often didn't bother with a bra; one less layer for him to remove. A light brushing of his fingers across her hardened nipple caused her to moan and arch towards him. "If I didn't know better I'd say it's been a while for you as well."

"Couple of months," she admitted through a gasp as he rolled her nipple between his fingers.

"Leaving a trail of broken-hearted men behind you." He backed away slightly to gaze at her as he slipped the shirt upwards and brought his other hand up to caress her.

She snorted, "Broken hearts, right. They get what they want and move on. Just like you." Running her hands through his hair she kissed him lightly. "Bed, my love, I want you in my bed."

With a nod he stood and waited for her to do so as well, then pulled the tank top over her head and tossed it away. "Not my fault you keep refusing to marry me," he said without hurt in his voice.

'Chele backed away from the living room, one finger hooked onto a belt loop to draw him along, heading towards the bed even as his hands continued their exploration of her upper body. "Ah, Dare, I won't keep you from the chance of having a family." She stopped half-way there, her hands making short work of the button and zipper on his jeans and stripping him of the clothes; leaving them forgotten on the wood floor. "You'll be a wonderful father one day, the way you handle children has proven that. And it won't happen with me."

He pulled her close and cupped her face. "There are other options," he countered even as he kissed her, their mouths opening in unison and tongues seeking each other to begin that slow sensuous battle again. Her hands slipped down to run along the firm muscle of his buttocks, making him shiver in reaction. "'Chele..."

"Hmmm?" she asked, as she encouraged his hands lower to fondle her breasts again.

"Umm, what were we discussing?" She had begun backing up again, leading him straight towards that big bed of hers.

"Nothing of importance, my dear."