Ice: Once again I only own Bailey and the plot. I don't own Yu Yu Hakusho.

Hiei: Poor, poor pitiful you.

Kurama: Hiei, stop it.

Hiei: no.

Ice: Children.

Kuwabara: Yes Mom?

Ice: So not funny.

Yusuke: You had to see it from this side.

Kurama: Anyway, one with chapter two

Ice: I'm only on chapter two?

Yusuke: And thanks go out to those who reviewed. Ice can't remember who you all are at the moment, but she's working on it.

Keiko: Yusuke, go sit in your corner.

Chapter Two

11:00 am

"I am his niece. I've been out of the country serving in the Peace Corps and only just discovered poor Uncle Sensui had been hurt." Bailey innocently widened her eyes at the young, sandy-haired cop barring her way into Sensui DiMarco's hospital room. This time, as opposed to her usual accuracy, her best guess was way off. When she'd seen Officer Richard Ryan's twinkling blue eyes and baby face, she'd figured he'd cave in five minutes. Instead, she'd been trying to talk her way past him for fifteen.

"Sorry miss." Officer Ryan shook his head and planted himself more firmly in front of the door.

"He's probably terribly lonely. I'm sure he wants to see me. What harm could it do?"

The cop indicated the cell phone he'd used to call the station when she'd first arrived, and repeated his softly spoken, but implacable litany. "No civilians allowed inside without permission form headquarters."

She wasn't getting anywhere. Desperation welled up. "I have permission." Shoot, she was gonna have to do this the hard way and take her lumps later. "From Hiei O'Rourke."

"Is that right?" Officer Ryan's lips quirked and Bailey's hopes spun. The magic key! Open sesame! His friendly blue eyes crinkled at the corners. "That's different, then."

She nodded earnestly. "I understand you won't want my bag inside for security reasons." She plunked her survival kit on the rust-colored carpet at his feet. "I'll take my pad and pen, in case Uncle Sensui needs to dictate any instructions."

A male baritone drawled behind her. "Good old Uncle Sensui could kill you six different ways with that pen."

Her heart flipped in a dizzying, tangled swoop of dread and exhilaration. Rats! She knew that caress-of-black-velvet voice.

Reluctantly, she turned around. Hiei stood directly behind her. If scuffed brown boots, snug jeans faded in all the best places and white shirt rolled up his muscled forearms were any indication, the Big Bad Wolf was off duty. Though she had sneaking suspicion her cop never completely went off duty. He'd hooked a denim jacked over his shoulder with one finger. It was too warm for a jacket, so he'd probably stashed his gun in the pocket. A black pager rode at his waistband. He was on call. SWAT… slathered with awesome testosterone.

She sucked in a breath. "How long have you been standing there?"

A scowl creased his ruggedly handsome face. "Long enough."

Geez, did he ever crack a smile? She couldn't remember seeing one adorn his luscious, stubborn mouth. Then again, when they were together he was usually steamed. She offered a smile brimming with cheery bravado. "Nice to see you again."

He flicked an annoyed glance at Officer Ryan. "Thanks for calling me, Rich. Take five."

"Sure thing O'Rourke. Figured you'd want to take care of your little fan girl personally." Grinning, Ryan sauntered down the hallway with Hiei and Bailey glaring after him.

Fan girl? Humph! She was so not tailing after Hiei like some teens swooning after some pretty-boy movie heartthrobs like Orlando Bloom and Elijah Wood. Bailey grinned at Ryan's retreating back. Outfoxed by a guy barely old enough to shave. She must be slipping.

Hiei deftly inserted his big body in front of DiMarco's doorway. "What are you trying to pull now?"

"I need to speak with DiMarco."

His movements a symphony of masculine power and grace, he slung his jacket over an upholstered chair parked to the right of the door and crossed tanned, sinewy forearms over his wide chest. "He'd just as soon kill you as look at you."

"He's got no reason to hurt me." At least not unless he discovered she was trying to bring him down.

"DiMarco doesn't need a reason." His scowl deepened. "Besides, he hasn't said a word in six months. What makes you think he'd talk to you…if he was able?"

A male aide trundled down the corridor, pushing a large linen cart. "'Scuse me."

Bailey stepped to the side. The aide wheeled the cart into the room, and then began to strip the bed.

Bailey glanced at DiMarco. The pale man slumped in a wheelchair, his head lolled to the side. He didn't appear aware of his surroundings. His room was butter-yellow, but the color didn't really matter. All hospitals looked the same, intersection rows of door studded corridors. Behind each door was a person in pain. And all hospitals smelled the same… disinfectant and desperation.

She pushed the door with the toe of her shoe, nudging it closed enough to preserve the man's privacy. She probably wouldn't get any response from DiMarco, but a long shot bet that succeeded always paid off in spades. Her mom languished in a similar rehab facility in San Francisco. But within the stroke-paralyzed shell, sparks flickered in Rita's dark eyes. Where there were sparks, there was life. And where there was life, hope. She wanted to see what was in DiMarco's eyes. "I thought he might respond to the press."

"Why bother?" Torment laced his bitter words. "You people make up whatever you want anyway. Then you print it, regardless of who it hurts."

"Some do," she acknowledged quietly. "Not me. I want to hear DiMarco's side of the story." And if her news that so someone was stealing his all his "hard-earned" money couldn't get a rise out of the guy, nothing could. Perhaps then the person rapidly accruing Sensui's funds would hear that Sensui knew, and tip his hand. She'd studied the crimes Sensui was suspected of committing. Even cognitively impaired, DiMarco was a formidable enemy.

"He's a ruthless killer," Hiei growled. "His side of the story' is bent beyond belief."

She gazed into Hiei's blood red eyes. Compelling. Seductive. Glittering with rich, red-hot heat far more addictive than her favorite espresso. "It's okay Hiei. I know."

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Know what?"

DiMarco and your dad were army buddies during the Vietnam War. They were stationed in Hawaii along with your mom, who was a civilian nurse. Your father mustered out injured, accompanied by your mom, while Sensui went to war as a Black OP assassin."

Startled surprise stamped his features before he shuttered his expression. "Yesterday's news, Ms. Valentine."

"All pieces of the same puzzle." He didn't deny it, but then he couldn't deny the truth. "When DiMarco robbed the mall's bank, he was wearing your father's watch…a watch you and your brothers made and gave to your dad for Father's Day when you were young." She paused, loath to whammy him with bad memory. "The watch Brian O'Rourke was wearing the day he died."

Lightning flashed in his eyes. He grasped her shoulders and spun her, tapping her between his body and the wall. He stepped close and lowered his fact to hers' and his quiet voice thrummed with fury. "Aside from me, my brothers are the only ones who know that. How did you find out?"

"I listen. I see. I can hear and see lots of things."

"You didn't leave when I threw you off the mall site did you? What else did you hear?"

"I believe DiMarco framed and killed your dad and I think it was personal. All I need is enough proof to take him down.

His face was inches from hers, his breath warm on her lips. "Be warned." His body vibrated with rage, but his grip stayed gentle. "Don't screw with my family. I will do whatever it takes to protect them."

Ice: Ok, two isn't finished, but this is getting long, so this will be two a

Hiei: oh the cleverness of you

Ice: ignore him, he's being cranky.

Hiei: what?