AN_ Thanks to everyone for their patience. I'm sorry I haven't updated earlier, but I went on vacation – which gave me a few ideas for new stories!! But one thing at a time, hope you enjoy.

***

Usually, Tessa loved arranging shows in the small, downtown gallery. The large picture windows and the light wooden floors ensured the rooms were bright and well lit, showing off the art to perfection. The artists she met were young and enthusiastic, keeping her own passion alive.

Today was not usually.

"But which way is up?" She demanded to the empty room, as she stepped back to look at the half assembled modern sculpture, a piece of twisted metal in one hand and a sheet of faxed instructions in the other, as she tried to puzzle them out. The artist, was not arriving from Paris until the night of the private viewing, when everything had to be perfect. What kind of exhibition co-ordinateur would she look like if his prize winning exhibit was displayed upside down?

"Maybe, this way." She continued talking to herself, leaning forward as she tried to force the piece into position.

It didn't seem to fit.

"Um, Tessa?"

Richie's voice made her jump, causing her grip on the metal to slip and its edge to bite into the edge of her hand. The resulting cut made her swear in frustration.

"Tessa," Richie hurried forward. "Are you, OK?"

"Of course, I am not OK," Tessa protested. "I am bleeding."

"Oh shit. Here, let me take a look."

"Don't touch it!" Tessa evaded his grasp. "And don't swear!"

"You swore," Richie mumbled resentfully, stung by her refusal to let him help her. "I heard you."

"Yes, well," Tessa was momentarily dumbfounded. She wouldn't have expected that he knew what merde meant. "That's different. I am an adult." Even as the words fell from her lips she realised how bad that sounded. The look Richie gave her spoke volumes. Her hand throbbed, demandingly and she put it in her mouth to soothe it.

"You shouldn't put that in your mouth," Richie said, at once. "At least, let me put on a band aid or something."

"This is fine." She mumbled.

"Your mouth is full of bacteria and stuff. It'll get infected."

Irritated, Tessa pulled the finger from her mouth. "I thought I told you to clean out the stockroom," She snapped, feeling out of sorts. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"You made me come. Remember?" Richie said sulkily.

"I beg your pardon?" Tessa arched a dangerous brow.

"I finished cleaning the stockroom." Richie amended.

"Then you cannot have done a very good job." Tessa sniffed stalking across the room, determined to see for herself, so she could find fault with his work. Duncan was, she had decided, entirely too liberal with the boy. So, he had had a rather, unorthodox childhood, but surely that was all the more reason to insist on normal family values. She didn't understand why Duncan seemed so willing to give him so much lee way. Perhaps, being eighteen had been different when he was a boy, but they were living in the twentieth century now.

So, when the storeroom provided to be surprisingly tidy and free from dust, she was not to be mollified. "Well, then. You can take all the glassware off those shelves and give it a good wash."

"All of it?" Richie gawped at her. "Tess, I already did everything you asked. You're not being fair."

"Was it fair that you left us worrying while you were out enjoying yourself, hmm?" Tessa wanted to remind the young man why he was there.

"But there must be a zillion pieces of glass there." Richie protested. "We'll be here forever!"

 "Then you had better get started, hadn't you?"

***

"Enfin!" Tessa exclaimed, triumphantly, as she slotted the last piece of metal into place, surveying her efforts with satisfaction. Three transatlantic telephone calls and four faxes later, she was finally confident that the exhibit was exactly as the artist intended.

"What exactly is it meant to be?"

Tessa bit back a sharp retort, when she saw the genuinely curious look on Richie's face.

"You know," she laughed. "I have absolutely no idea."

Richie didn't laugh with her as he rose, a little stiffly, from his cross legged position on the floor by the door to make his way over to her side.

"How long have you been sitting there?" Tessa frowned.

"I dunno. An hour, maybe." Richie shrugged, not looking at her.

"An hour!" Tessa reached out and grasped one of his pale hands between hers. "You are like a block of ice. Why didn't you say something?

"You were busy." Richie looked at his feet.

"And I was not very nice to you before." Tessa realised, softening her tone somewhat.

"I finished cleaning the glasses." Richie pulled his hand out of hers.

"You did?" Tessa couldn't help the note of surprise in her voice. For the first time, she realised it had gotten dark outside.

"You can go check if you don't believe me." Richie crossed his arms in front of him in a gesture that was, at once, defiant and defensive.

But Tessa was no longer listening. She was looking at her watch with a kind of abject horror. She had had no idea it was so late.

"I'm supposed to be meeting that journalist at Quinzos in fifteen minutes!"

Quinzos, Richie knew, was a smart café bar, halfway across town. If he was on his bike he could have made it in time. But Tessa, having learnt to drive in rural France had never gotten very comfortable with city traffic.

"So, call and tell her you'll be late."

"And you think she will just wait?" Tessa scoffed. "She is a very prestigious art critic. I cannot afford to be late."

"Alright then, call yourself a cab, if you offer a large enough tip you should just about get there in time and I'll take your car home."

"You are grounded, mon brave, remember? That means no driving privileges." 

"Tess, I'm just trying to help. I thought this was an emergency." Richie pointed out.

"Then we will just have to hurry." Tessa decided.

***

"Um. Tess," She looked up from behind the wheel of the Mercedes in irritation to see Richie still hovering on the sidewalk. "Can we put the top up?"

"There's no time. Its not that cold. We'll be there soon."

"Yeah, but .." Richie shifted from foot to foot.

"Richie, just get in!" Tessa commanded. "Or I will leave without you."

"It was an empty threat, but it wasn't until much later that Tessa realised that Richie didn't know this, as he climbed in beside her. She had no time to spare for his moods as he sat silently beside her, leaning against the door. The traffic was even worse than she had feared and soon it was nose to tail.

"Tess, what are you doing?" Richie sat up a little straighter, as she started to indicate to change lanes.

"I am taking a shortcut."

"You know, in this neighbourhood, that's not really a good idea."

"It will save us time," Tessa was adamant. "I can't be late."

"Better late than never," Richie pointed out. "At least, let's stop and put the top up."

"You worry too much." Tessa shook her head.

"Tessa ..."

"Richie, just be quiet and let me concentrate!" Tessa snapped.

For the next few blocks they drove in uncomfortable silence. Tessa knew that she should not be taking her anxiety over her tardiness out on Richie. But he was acting as if she was the reckless child and he was the adult. After all, she was a grown woman, she had made a new life for herself on a new continent, she could take care of herself, he was the one who had stayed out all night drinking and partying and who knew what else. When she shivered slightly, she tried telling herself it was the cold night air, rather than the deserted neighbourhood, but still, maybe it wouldn't hurt to stop and put up the top. She started to slow.

"Don't stop." Richie said, looking not at her but at something in the far side wing mirror.

"What's wrong?" Tessa asked, flicking a quick glance at the teen.

"Maybe nothing." Richie answered, but his tone was wary, every sinew in his body tense and alert.

"Richie?" Tessa asked, for the first time her voice edged with fear.

"Just keep driving, okay?" Richie said, levelly, not taking his eyes off the mirror.

"Why?" Tessa demanded, even as she took in the stop light ahead.

"Tess," There was a sudden urgency in Richie's voice that Tessa had never heard before. "Whatever you do, don't stop."

"But the light is red." Tessa protested, her natural, law abiding instincts making her continue to slow the car, even as she spoke.

It happened so quickly, Tess would afterwards struggle to recall the exact sequence of events. As the car came to a halt at the light, a boy, not much older than Richie appeared from no where, to stand in front of the car, another simultaneously appeared at the side door, his flick knife, glinting dully in the streetlights and a third emerged out of the darkness to hover by the drivers door.

"Hit the gas!" Richie hollered, sure that the kid would dive to one side when the car picked up speed.

"I can't!" Tessa panicked. "I'll hit him."

"Quick then, back up." Richie instructed. But even as he spoke, the car that had been following then pulled up behind so that Tessa's car was effectively trapped.

"What now?" Tessa turned wild eyes to Richie.

Richie flinched slightly as a tall, thin, older boy, with long, dark, hair, climbed out of the car behind and made his way over to the drivers side.

"Just .. be ready."

Ready for what? Tessa wanted to ask. But the boy was already at the driver's door, his eyes widening with something like surprise, or recognition.

"Slick. Long time no see."

"Hello Vinnie." Richie responded.