This is what I love about the interaction. Again, brie, you have given me food for thought with your latest review, and I realized that I had not fully explained Miranda's position as well as I should have, so I added a little more into this chapter. Hopefully it will now make more sense. Though, if it doesn't, always remember that sometimes in life there are things that simply do not make sense.

When I expanded this chapter, it became unwieldy (too long!) so now I have split this into two chapters. So essentially I lied to all of you when I said there was only one more chapter to go. Sorry! There are now two more chapters to go, this one and the last one.

And yes, there is a lot of MM going on here, a lot more than I ever intended, but I'm having so much fun writing it, I can't seem to stop. But I promise when all is said and done this will be a beautiful Miranda/Tudge all the way!

-

-

Matt McGuire woke up the next morning in a strange bed, the strong Mexican sun painfully glaring in his eyes. His mouth was dry, his head hurt, he felt awful. Where am I? he wondered. What happened?

"Good morning!" came a cheerful voice beside him, in response to his involuntary moan.

Matt jumped up, his eyes popping open. Oh my God! Miranda Sanchez! Sitting up in bed beside him, sipping a cup of tea, reading the newspaper. She was gorgeous, her long silky hair falling over her shoulders, her face wiped clean of last night's makeup, a few freckles clearly visible in the morning sunlight.

She smiled at him and he panicked.

"Miranda…" he choked out, barely finding his voice.

"Hey there, Sunshine! How you feeling this morning? Not too good, I would guess, huh? Wait here, I'll get something that will fix you right up."

Matt's eyes followed as she floated out of the room, wearing a long, pure white cotton dress. She looked like an angel. Slowly, Matt's mind began to travel backwards over the events of the previous evening. By the time Miranda returned with a large brown mug, he had more than a few questions. "Miranda---" he began.

But she sat down beside him on the bed and forced the cup into his hands. "Drink this first."

"What is it?"

"An herbal remedy. You don't need to know the particulars. All you need to know is that it works. Drink it down quickly, don't worry about the taste."

"Ugh!" Matt cried when she finally allowed him to take the cup away from his lips. "What the hell---!"

"Don't worry, it's over, " she said, "and now you'll be feeling more yourself before you know it."

"Miranda, where am I? And how did I get here?"

"You're in my room at La Familia Madre Tierra. I drove you here last night in your beautiful automobile, which was the most fun I've had in ages! I can't remember the last time I drove a car. And never one so luxurious. You must be doing quite well at your private eye business, Matt McGuire."

"Miranda, did we…did we…?"

"Did we what?" she asked with a lopsided grin, knowing what he was trying to ask, but not adverse to letting him suffer a while longer in his paranoia.

Matt reached down under the covers and his eyes got wide. "My pants…" he breathed.

"On the chair over there," Miranda grinned. "I took them off so you would be more comfortable."

"Did we…did we…?" he repeated.

Okay, Miranda thought, enough already. "No," she answered. "We did not."

Matt breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh good. Because I would have hated it if we did and I couldn't remember."

"You were too drunk, Matt, to do anything or remember anything. I hope this is not an indication of what your life is regularly like."

Matt lay back, beginning already to feel a little better. "No, it's not. Not regularly. It's just…you know…vacation…"

Yes, Matt realized, he was starting to feel better. That herbal remedy, whatever it was, was really doing the trick. He looked around the simple room that was bathed in the morning sunlight. No bright colors here, no lava lamps, no leopard skin phone. He looked at Miranda and asked, "Hey, Randa….how did this happen?"

"How did what happen?" she asked.

"You. In a place like this."

She sighed, understanding. "I know. It doesn't quite seem like me, does it? In a way it is…yet in a way it isn't. Things started changing for me in college. I was studying Sociology, in a very liberal environment. I made some new friends. I got some new ideas. Back then it was all about saving the world. After grad school I did a stint in the Peace Corp. That was an experience! On thing just kind of led to another, and somehow I found myself here."

"Are you happy?" Matt asked, as much for Tudgeman's sake as out of his own curiosity.

Miranda tilted her head. "Yeah," she said finally. "Mostly."

"And you never think about…coming back…?"

"Oh, I think about it, all right. Quite a bit lately, in fact."

"Well, then, maybe it's time for a change again?" Matt asked, now totally thinking about Tudgeman.

"Conditions would have to be right," Miranda allowed.

"And what would constitute the right conditions?" Matt wondered, unable to keep from grinning. "Let's say…a personal invitation from…Larry Tudgeman?"

Miranda's eyes got wide. "You remember that?"

"I see all…I hear all…I know all," Matt pronounced.

"I doubt it," Miranda said dryly. "I doubt you could so easily predict how Larry Tudgeman would react to seeing the likes of me again."

Matt bit his lip, restraining the impulse to spill the beans. It put him at a distinct advantage to be the All Seeing- All Hearing- All Knowing Matthew McGuire. He had an idea.

"You might be surprised," was as much as he was willing to say at the moment.

"You know, I sometimes think about looking him up," Miranda revealed, staring out the window. "But I always chicken out when I imagine him laughing in my face."

"Why do you think he would do that?"

"Well, I heard somewhere that he's kind of successful now, he's got a beautiful wife, a nice house, all that. He's got it made. That's why I imagine he would look at me scornfully and say, 'Baby, you had your chance and you blew it.' It would serve me right, wouldn't it?"

Miranda lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. She was putting herself into a funky mood. "So," she continued miserably, " it's terrible to imagine Larry saying those horrible things to me, but sometimes I think…maybe it's worse…not knowing. Maybe the best thing would be to have it over and done with and let this dream die a natural death already."

"I'm telling you," Matt said. "You might be surprised."

"I wonder if Lizzie and Gordo ever see him," Miranda thought suddenly, hopefully. "Maybe they could find out what his feelings might be about me. You think?"

"I don't know," Matt lied. "You'd have to ask them."

"And I can ask them, can't I? As soon as you let me use your phone!" Miranda remembered.

As if on cue, Matt's phone in his pants pocket across the room began to play its familiar tune: Mission Impossible.

"That's been happening all morning," Miranda said. "It's been all I could do to restrain myself from picking up. I looked at it once and saw Melina's name. I didn't think she'd appreciate hearing a girl answering your phone, so I let it go."

"You didn't look at it any more after that, did you?" Matt wondered.

"No, after that, I've let it ring. But now that you're awake you're going to keep your promise, aren't you? You're going to let me use your phone to call Lizzie? Right? Right, Matt McGuire?"

Matt looked at Miranda, anxiously imploring him, and he could not help but smile. "All right," he said. "I'll keep my promise. But first give me a moment to make a few business calls. Then my phone is yours until the battery dies."

-

Once again wearing his pants, Matt walked outside the back door of La Familia Tierra Madre into the hot Mexican desert. The first person he called was his sister.

"Hey, McGuire," he teased, "you'll never guess who I ran into last night."

Lizzie was so excited she wanted to speak with Miranda immediately. Matt assured her they would have a lengthy phone conversation in just a little while, but first, he had this crazy idea he wanted to run by her…

Lizzie listened and agreed, then passed the plan on to Gordo, who was nearby, roughhousing their two Chihuahuas by the poolside. Matt heard Gordo say sure, he was on board, they could count on him.

"Alright then," Matt said. "Let me give Larry a call. I have like only a dozen messages from him on my phone. Do you think he'll be happy to hear from me?"

A few moments later Matt dialed the Tudgeman residence, hoping he would not get his mom on the phone. Even though he now fully understood how wrong he had been in his brief assumption that this trip to find Miranda had been his mother's attempt to see him married off, he did not want to get into that discussion with her at this particular moment.

At this particular moment, all he wanted to do was exactly what he did as soon as he heard Larry's expectant "Hello?"

"Hey, Boss!" Matt smiled. "Guess what? I found her."