A/N: The quote used at the end is a proverb, author unknown.

Fifteen—Presents

"Remind me why we're doing this again?" Ashley asked as she uncapped the bottle in her hands.

"It's this or we let Burke think that I'm going gray before I turn thirty," Madison said dryly as she stared at her reflection in the mirror.  "See?"  She pointed to the top of her head.  "I have roots."

"Microscopic roots," Ashley countered.

"White blonde roots," Isabel pointed out, staring at her.  "God, you do look like you're going gray."  She snickered.  "So how does it feel to be the old lady of the group?"

Madison scowled.  "Could we just get started already?  I don't have all day to hang out in the bathroom and color my hair."

"Whatever you say, Mrs. Burke," Ashley said sarcastically.  She stared meaningfully at Madison's left hand.  "Sure you want to leave that rock on while we do this?  We wouldn't want to get your precious diamond dirty."

"How did it go meeting the in-laws last week?" Isabel interrupted.  Ashley picked up the box lying on the counter and studied it carefully, ignoring them.

"As best as could be expected," Madison shrugged.  She leaned her head down as Isabel squirted the cream into her scalp.  "To say that Bethany was surprised would be an understatement."

"Well, if someone you're very close to walked in and said they had gotten married without telling you, I think you have a right to be shocked," Ashley muttered.

"She was pretty understanding about it—once she was able to speak, that is," Madison laughed.  "By the end of the day we had her blessing, which was important to Burke; he's really close to his big sister.  You know, you two would like her.  If we were in different circumstances . . ."

"But we're not.  So.  How long do we have to leave this goop on you?"  Ashley asked.

"Twenty minutes," Isabel replied.  She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket.  "Okay, timer's set."

"Thanks for giving up your lunch break, you two," Madison said hesitantly.  "I always make a mess of this when I dye my hair by myself."

"Just consider it our wedding present to you," Ashley said under her breath.

"Ash!"  Isabel swatted her arm.  "You promised," she said meaningfully.

"But—"

"Try harder," Isabel said firmly.  "I mean it."  The three friends stood in the bathroom in silence, each trying to think of a safe topic.  A few minutes later Madison voiced the one thought that kept returning to her mind.

"I hate to keep pestering you about this, but have you found anything on—"

"Your friend at the little record label, yeah, yeah," Ashley interrupted.  "Fiona whatever?  The initial search turned up nothing, the more thorough search didn't find her either.  I was starting to think she just vanished when—"

"Tell Gracie your idea," Isabel said excitedly.  She turned to Madison.  "This is good."

Ashley rolled her eyes.  "Well, I started thinking.  As quickly as she disappeared from her job and all, and since there's no reason to suspect foul play—nobody reported her missing in the state of California; I checked that too—I started to wonder if someone helped her vanish."

"Meaning?"

"What if she's in the program?"  Ashley asked triumphantly.

"Ooh," Madison said softly.  "I never thought about that, but it almost makes sense.  Fiona in witness protection . . . maybe."

"We're trying to get clearance to find out if that's what happened to her," Isabel continued.  "We should get word in a week or so if we're on the right track or not.  Sorry this is such slow going, Gracie."

"I'm sure you're doing your best," Madison conceded as she twisted the diamond on her ring finger.  "Besides, you've got other things to work on."  She abruptly switched to agent mode.  "Has your research on the clinical trials at Kelley Laboratories turned up anything?"

Isabel shook her head.  "We've been going through all the drugs that are currently undergoing FDA approval, investigating any FDA agents, the chemical composition of the drugs . . . you name it, we're looking into it.  And all we've come up with is a big heap of nothing."  She sighed.  "It's almost as if," she paused.

"Almost as if what?" Madison asked.

Ashley shook her head.  "Don't say it, don't say it!"  She covered her ears briefly.  "This girl does not need those ideas in her head," she gestured towards Madison.

Madison rolled her eyes.  "Could someone please fill me in?  What on earth are you talking about?"

"Um," Isabel hesitated.  "It's just, um, well, we keep coming up on all these dead ends, and you know, that wedding picture of the two of you—"

"It was taken on the steps of the courthouse.  It's not like they were in a tux and a white dress," Ashley interrupted, rolling her eyes.

"As I was saying," she shot a dirty look at her friend, "a part of me kinda sorta not really but in a way does wish that Burke wasn't evil."  She exhaled loudly.  "I know, I'm crazy, right?  He's the enemy, he's a cretin, it's horrible that you have to put up with him . . . ."

"Don't listen to Iz.  She saw one picture of the two of you and is certain you two have 'it,' whatever 'it' is."  Ashley yawned.

Madison snickered.  "You think Chris and I should really be a couple?  Good one, Izzy.  Sounds like someone's been reading too many trashy romance novels lately," she teased.

"I have not," Isabel pouted.  "I just wish that things could be different for you two."

"I don't," Ashley muttered.  "The sooner we close this operation down, the better."

Madison stared up at the tiles on the ceiling, avoiding both of their comments.  "So," she said brightly, "how many minutes until we wash off this stuff?"

*****

"You're home early," Madison said in a surprised voice that evening.  She threw her keys down on the kitchen counter and slung her purse over a chair.

"So are you," came Christopher's muffled reply as he buried his face in her hair.  "I guess we were thinking the same thing."

Uh-oh.  What am I supposed to be thinking?  "I guess so," she replied uncertainly as she leaned up to kiss him.

He grinned at her.  "Liar."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Do you want to spend tonight on the couch, my dear?" she said sarcastically.

"Only if you're there too," he shot back.

She giggled and let him kiss her again.  "What were we talking about?" she asked him several minutes later.

"I was just going to comment that we both left work early today."  He grinned wickedly.  "It looks like we want to get our five week anniversary off to a good start."

"Right," she said in a confident tone, even as she knew she was lying through her teeth.  Not that she didn't find him attractive, and nice—except for the whole terrorist bit, of course; that was far from nice—but . . . she shouldn't be enjoying this assignment so much.  She really shouldn't.

"How was work today?" she asked as she scooted out of his arms and opened the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of water.

He made a face.  "I don't want to talk about work, Maddie."

"Talking about work will get you everywhere with me," she teased.  If he only knew . . .

"It's . . . work.  This merger is driving me nuts, I'm sick of working with these new people, and part of me just wants to quit my job," he burst out.  Her eyes widened.  What the hell?  Where did this come from?

"Quit?  Why?"

"There's some stuff going on, certain people I work with now . . . I don't want to go into it, Maddie.  I want to forget the name Pyper-Ferguson until Monday morning, okay?"

She nodded slowly.  "Okay."  She looked at him hesitantly.  "I didn't mean to intrude," she said softly.

He ran his fingers through his hair.  "You're fine.  Don't worry about it."  His face brightened suddenly.  "Let's order in tonight.  Chinese sound okay?"

"Yeah," she said automatically.  She opened up a drawer.  "I think we put the menus are in here."

He stared at the paper for a moment and then picked up the cordless phone.  "Oh, I almost forgot," he said as he began to dial.  "There was a package outside the door for you when I got home today."

"A package?" she echoed.  Who would be sending me—Madison—anything?

"It's on the couch," he replied as someone answered the phone.  "Hi, I'd like to place an order to be delivered."

Heart pounding, she retrieved the box from the couch and examined it.  It was addressed to "Mrs. Madison Burke" and postmarked the day before.  There was no return address, she noted as she lifted the box to her ear.  Nothing.

She slowly returned to the kitchen with the box in her hand.  Christopher hung up the phone and smiled at her as he sat down at the table.  "Dinner's on its way.  So what's inside the box?"

"I don't know.  I guess I should open it," she said doubtfully.

"What a novel idea," he retorted.  He stretched and opened the junk drawer.  "Here," he said, handing her the scissors.

She sighed and broke through the tape to open the box, removing a second, smaller box and a card.

"Who's it from?" he asked curiously.

She scanned the card, looking for a name.  "This old great aunt of mine," she said finally.  "It has to be from her.  She always forgets to sign her name.  I wonder how she heard about us getting married though," she wondered aloud.

"Who cares?  What'd she give us?" he asked eagerly.

She laughed out loud at the look on his face.  "Now, now, you didn't even read the inside of the card."

He rolled his eyes and snatched the card from her fingertips.  "'The torch of love is lit in the kitchen,'" he read aloud.  "Huh?  She forgets to sign her name, but she remembers to write that?"

"That's Great Aunt Laura for you," she answered easily as she pulled the tape off the second box and peered inside.

"What is it?"

Silently, she pulled the object out of the box and placed it on the table.

It was a shiny new toaster.

tbc