Callie screamed as Frank grabbed her and pulled her behind him, but Angelic was through. She climbed in her car and drove off. Frank turned around and saw where Angelic's bullet had left it's mark. Callie's front tire was flat.

"Sh..should you have let her go?" Callie asked shakily. "Maybe she already has killed Joe."

"She hasn't," Frank said, relief shining in his brown eyes. "Didn't you see what fell on the ground?" Callie shook her head.

"It was a battery operated men's shaver," Frank said. "Look, you go in and be getting the groceries while I change the tire. I'll be in shortly."

"Don't you want to call the police first?" she asked.

"No," came the unexpected answer. "If they find her, they'll spook her and she may kill Joe," Frank explained. "We have to keep them out of it as much as possible until we get Joe back."

"Then what are we going to do?" Callie demanded.

"Exactly as we had originally planned," Frank said. "Set up a stake out at the produce stand and follow her if we see her."

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When Angelic returned to the basement later that evening, Joe was lying on the bed reading one of the magazines she had brought him. He had changed into a solid midnight blue kilt with a matching tee shirt and the color seemed to intensify the blue of his eyes.

"Need any more magazines?" she asked, setting the tray she carried down and turning off the CD player.

"Only if you aren't going to let me go by tomorrow afternoon," Joe responded, quirking a hopeful eyebrow at her.

She shook her ehad. "Any requests?" she asked, unlocking the cage and laying the keys down.

Joe thought about it as she entered and set the tray down. "How about Mad, Time, Discover and a newspaper?" he asked.

"Magazines, yes," she replied. "Newspapers, no."

"Why not a newspaper?" queired Joe.

Angelic shrugged. "Your brother may put something in it for you that I wouldn't recognize," she voiced her concern. "So, no newspaper. But I will pick up those magazines and a few more. Want any books?"

"Might as well since I can't watch any tv," agreed Joe. "Horror?"

"You got it," she promised, smiling. "Now, are you ready for dinner?"

"Sure," Joe replied, watching as she lifted the lid off of his plate and then one off her own. "Mmm," he said, sniffing. "Smells good."

"Chicken Fricasse. I hope you like it," she said as Joe picked up his fork and lifted a bite to his mouth. She waited until he had swallowed before lifting her own fork.

"This is really good," Joe complimented her. "And one of my favorites too."

"I know," she replied, smiling at him. "You know, if there is anything special you want, all you have to do is ask."

"Let me write a letter to my family so they'll know I'm okay?" Joe asked. She shook her head. Joe shrugged. "It was worth a shot."

They ate in silence for a bit. "How did you find out my favorites?" Joe asked her.

"I asked a lot of questions when I stayed at your house the last time I was in Bayport," Angelic answered.

Joe took another bite and swallowed before asking her another question. "How many boyfriends have you had?"

"Why do you want to know that?" she asked, not surprised by the question; just curious.

"I was wondering if you went to as much trouble for them," Joe answered.

"I dated a few guys before Dad died," admitted Angelic. "But they weren't anything special." She looked him in the eyes. "You're the only man I have ever loved," she professed. "Don't you know how special you are? No one could ever take your place."

"Why is sharing such a bad thing?" he asked, watching her features intently.

"I don't know how to answer that one," she said. "I don't mind sharing a book; a booth; or even my car. But everytime I see you talking or looking at anyone...I just get so angry. You should be looking at me. Talking to me."

"I am," Joe said softly, feeling sorry for her. "I am looking at one of the most caring, beautiful girls I have ever met," he continued. "And I'm listening to your honesty. You have my attention."

"But I had to kidnap you to get it," Angelic pointed out.

"That's not true," Joe denied. "Didn't I give you my attention the first day at school?"

"Yes," she admitted. "But then someone came along and you started talking to him."

"But I didn't leave you out," Joe argued.

"But you weren't really paying attention to me," she complained.

"I heard everything you said. I saw you." Joe tried to get her to listen to reason.

"No," she disagreed. "You kept looking at Biff. Not at me," she said, beginning to get upset. "I hate him! I wish he were dead!" she shouted as she stood up.

"Easy," Joe said, standing up and pulling her into his embrace. He was afraid she would go after Biff. "He's not here. We're alone. Together. Just the two of us," he whispered, rubbing her silky hair with one of his hands.

A few minutes later, after Angelic had calmed down, she looked up into Joe's face. "Why are you being so nice all of the sudden?" she demanded, her green eyes suspicious.

"You're not such a bad person to talk with," Joe told her, letting her go and sitting down on the bed. "Besides, who else am I going to talk to?"

"That's the only reason you're talking to me?" Angelic asked, hurt. "Because I'm available?"

"Isn't that what you had in mind?" Joe asked, picking up his plate and starting to eat again.

"No!" she cried. "I want you to talk to me because you want too. Because you choose too."

"How can I choose?" Joe asked, reasonably. "To do that I would have to have a choice and that means more than one option."

"You have more than one option. You can talk to me or sit there and ignore me or glare at me or yell at me," she counted off his options on her fingers.

Joe reached over and placed his hand on hers. "And I'm talking to you," he said softly.