Hi all,

Here's the second part of the story, as promised. It took me much longer to edit than I thought, so I wasn't able to post as quickly as I had hoped.

If you want to add to the experience, listen to John Hiatt's songs Have a Little Faith in Me and Feels Like Rain as you read the piece. Copyright rules prevent me from including any lyrics in this story, but the music is the inspiration for the dance sequence below. Interestingly enough, both songs were released in the late 80s, so the music is historically appropriate to the story.

Enjoy!

Chapter II

Before the food arrived, both Cass and Frankie had enough time to indulge in long hot water showers. The soot and debris from the explosion washed away, each one opted for comfortable clothing to take the place of their ruined formal wear.

As Cass came down the stairs with a bottle of wine in hand, there was a knock on the door.

"The food's arrived, Frankie," he called, wondering where she was.

"Bring it in here," she answered, her voice drifting to him from his office.

Having paid the delivery person, he took the food and headed into his office. He noticed immediately that she had set up a makeshift dining room for them, complete with silverware, plates, and glasses.

"We could have had dinner upstairs," he offered.

"I like it down here," she replied as she took the food from him and placed it on his desk.

I see she's trying to put a little distance between us, he thought as he noticed the table arrangements. "I'll go get the wine. I left it in the outer office."

"I'll just open up these containers, then."

"On second thought," he said, grabbing her arms to still their movement. "You go get the wine, and I'll open the containers."

"What's going on, Winthrop?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

"I've just got a little surprise for you, that's all."

"I thought you didn't like surprises."

"I don't, but you do. Now go before I take it back."

"All right, but this better be good," she said skeptically, moving toward the door.

"Trust me. You'll love it."

Upon her return, she found Cass standing behind the desk with his hands behind his back and a sly look on his face.

"What have you got there, Winthrop?"

"Sit down, Frankie, and close your eyes."

For once doing as she was told, Frankie sat down in the chair opposite him and met his request.

Cass quickly placed the plate in front of her. "You can open them now."

Her eyes widening in delight, she said, "Oh, Cass. Macaroni and Cheese?"

"Well, you didn't get to have any at your class reunion, so I thought…."

"It's perfect, really. Thank you," she said, eyes dancing.

"You're welcome, Frankie," he said sincerely as he sat down to eat.

She followed suit, and, for a few moments, they simply enjoyed the food and warm companionship between them.

Unable to contain his curiosity, however, Cass asked, "Frankie, do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"Of course not."

"Well, you seem rather particular about your food choices…."

"So, why do I like macaroni and cheese?" He nodded. "It's a guilty pleasure, really. It reminds me of home, you know."

"Of Oklahoma?"

"Yeah. Mama used to make it for me all the time when I was a little girl."

"You don't talk about her much."

"We aren't that close anymore," she said, looking away.

"Why's that?" he asked gently.

"Cass, do you mind if we don't talk about this right now?"

"Sure."

"I mean, I want to, but just not today."

"Frankie, it's fine, really," he said, reaching out to place his hand on hers.

Frankie favored him with a grateful smile, and turned her hand so that she could clasp his gently. They held like that for a long moment, their need to be connected heightened by the events of the day.

Ultimately, though, their need for nourishment was stronger, and they reluctantly pulled away from one another. The filling meal did little to answer their lingering questions, though. Neither of them wanted to spoil the dinner, but both harbored fears about what had happened in those terrible moments at the theatre when they were not together.

Finally, Frankie's unanswered questions got the better of her. "Cass, what happened to Griffen?"

"He got what he deserved," he managed, his body clenching in anger.

"What do you mean?"

"Lucas shot him."

"Lucas?" she asked, her surprise evident. "Why would he do that?"

"He says he was doing it to protect Michael Hudson."

"But you don't believe him."

"No, I don't."

"You know, Lucas came to the farm the day of the gala to try to get me to go to Milan. He offered me triple my usual rate."

"Sharlene mentioned that. Why didn't you go?"

"Because I thought you sent him."

"Why would you think that, Frankie? Lucas and I don't exactly get along."

"I thought maybe Felicia convinced him to help you. It was all so…odd."

"I wish you had gone, Frankie. Then that maniac wouldn't have gotten his hands on you," he said forcefully, his anger at Griffen rising.

"It's okay, Cass," she said reassuringly.

"No, it's not okay. You never should have been in that position."

"If I had listened to you, I wouldn't have been."

"But, I still could have stopped him. You tried to get me to help, and I didn't do anything."

"Cass, you ran into a building you knew was about to explode, and you rescued me. What more could you have done?"

"I should have realized you were giving me a signal."

"Cass, stop it," she said firmly, reaching out to cup his cheek. "I'm safe…we both are. That's all that matters."

"Frankie, if I had lost you…," he managed, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

"But, you didn't, Cass," she emphasized, holding his gaze for a long moment. Suddenly uncomfortable with the raw emotion she saw in his eyes, Frankie changed the subject. "My macaroni and cheese is getting cold."

"It can wait, Frankie."

"No, it can't. I'm starving."

"Frankie…."

"A dish like this must be savored while it's still warm," she said, taking an exaggerated bite of her dinner.

"You cannot possibly savor that yellow goo."

"Oh, come on, Cass," she said, picking up a fork and loading it with pasta. "You know you want to try some."

"I'll stick to my veal piccata, thank you very much."

"You don't know what you're missing," she said, moving the fork ever closer to his mouth.

"Don't you da…," he began, but Frankie shoved the fork in his mouth.

"It's good, isn't it?" she asked, laughing.

After chewing and swallowing her offering, Cass got an evil glint in his eye. "So that's the way you want to play it, eh?"

"Cass," she said warningly. "Cass, what are you up to?"

"Have you ever heard the phrase 'Let them eat cake?'" he asked, picking up a large slab of the chocolate treat.

Backing away as he advanced toward her, she said, "Cass…Cass, no." When he didn't stop, she pointed her finger at him and added, "You know what happened to Marie Antoinette after she said that, don't you?"

"You wouldn't behead me. Besides, historians can find no evidence to suggest she actually said that."

"It's a great story, though," she said before turning to run from the room.

Chasing after her, Cass caught her just before she made it to the door. Pinning her arms to her sides, he reached up with his free hand and stuffed half of the cake in her mouth, pausing briefly to dot her nose with icing. "Turnabout is fair play, my dear," he said, laughing triumphantly.

His victory was short-lived, however, as he found himself flat on his back thanks to a leg sweep from Frankie. Before he could react, she pinned him to the floor, grabbed the remaining cake from his hand, and stuffed it in his gaping mouth. "Never underestimate me, Winthrop."

"Oh, believe me, I don't," he said, flipping her over so that she was pinned beneath him.

The shocked look on her face elicited a smile from him, but the mood between them suddenly turned serious as he gazed into her eyes. Lowering his head ever so slowly, he waited for a protest that never came. Instead, his lips descended on hers, the initial touch flooding his senses with the sweetness of the chocolate and the softness of her mouth.

For once, Frankie managed to quiet the debate that raged in her head, choosing instead to immerse herself in her feelings. Her lips met his with an intensity that surprised them both. The terror of the day and the longing of the past few months fueled the passion between them. Her hands became the instrument of her emotions, caressing his body in the hopes of reaching his heart.

Cass, in turn, matched her intensity, but his touch was tender, protective. His kisses carried with them his unspoken love for her. He wanted her to know how much she meant to him, how terrified he had been of losing her when he realized that she was missing.

As she felt herself careening out of control, however, Frankie began to panic. "Cass," she mumbled against the torrent of his kisses. "Cass, stop," she said, pushing feebly against him.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his concern evident.

"It's been a long day, and I'm exhausted," she replied, squirming away from his embrace.

"Why don't I believe you?" he asked, as she stood up and walked away from him.

"I don't know, Cass. Maybe because I'm not telling you the whole truth," she admitted, much to her own surprise.

"What is the whole truth?" he asked gently, rising to meet her.

"I'm afraid, Cass."

"Why?"

"Well, we don't exactly have a great track record."

Smiling, he replied, "That's because we were both running in the wrong direction."

Smiling in acknowledgement, she continued, "We don't get along, Cass. We haven't had a civil conversation in months."

"It's hard work trying to pretend you don't care for someone," he said, moving closer to her.

"You hurt me," she said simply, without accusation.

"I know, Frankie. I'm sorry. You are the last person I would ever want to hurt," he said sincerely, reaching out to touch her face.

"I know that, Cass, but it doesn't solve the problems between us."

Realizing he wasn't getting anywhere, he changed tactics completely. "Dance with me, Frankie."

"What?" she asked in surprise.

"Dance with me."

"That won't accomplish anything."

"Come on, Frankie. Just one dance."

"Cass, I really need some rest."

"I saved your life today, Frankie. The least you could do is grant me one simple request."

"That's not fair, Cass."

"You know what they say—all's fair in love and war."

"And which is this?"

He looked at her a long time, willing her to see the truth in his eyes. "I don't want to fight with you, Frankie. Give me your hand."

Seemingly of their own volition, her fingers reached out for him. Clasping her offered hand tightly, he led her into his office and turned on the CD player.

Without protest, she fell into his embrace, resting her head on his shoulder as the first chords of John Hiatt's Have a Little Faith in Me washed over them.

"Subtle," she remarked after the opening verse, pulling back to look in his eyes.

"I thought you liked music with a message," he replied, pulling her close to him once more.

"But…."

"Just listen, Frankie. Please."

Frankie tried to collect her thoughts, tried to process everything that had happened in the past couple of days. The only feeling that made sense to her in this moment, however, was rhythmic moment of their bodies and the luxurious sensation of his arms holding her close to him.

To her surprise, her reverie was broken by the honeyed tones of Cass' voice as he sang softly in her ear. Unwilling to look into his eyes, she snuggled into his embrace and ran her hand gently up and down his back. His voice filled her senses, caressing her with an intimate tenderness as he spoke to all of her silent fears. He knows me, she realized with astonishment. He sees all the broken places I tried to hide, and he still wants to be with me. Tears began to fall silently down her cheek, and she tightened her arms around him. I love you, Cass, she thought, willing him to feel the emotion she was unable to speak.

Cass, meanwhile, relished the chance to hold her closely after all of these long months apart. How could I have been so stupid as to almost let her go? Frankie had been the one to open his heart again, breaking down his defenses in a million tiny ways. She was brilliant, kind, beautiful, and vulnerable, and he was drawn to her by some powerful, mysterious force.

As he held her hand close to his heart and crooned softly in her ear, he realized that he hadn't felt this way since he held another redhead so long ago. He had loved Nicole, but in a safe and distant way that had never approached the magic he had with Kathleen. Frankie inspired a new kind of magic, one that challenged his beliefs and awakened his creativity. I love her, he thought, admitting it to himself for the first time. His revelation brought a new urgency to the lyrics he sang, as he desperately wanted Frankie to believe that she was deserving of love. How could she not know how precious she was, how special?

His emotions running high and his voice breaking slightly, Cass allowed the song to finish without his accompaniment.

As the last strains of the music faded into the night, Frankie whispered, "I did, you know."

"Did what?" he asked gently, pulling back to look into her tear-stained eyes.

"Have faith in you. I knew you'd rescue me."

"I didn't. I was terrified that I wouldn't find you."

"Thank you for not giving up on me."

"Do you think I could?" he asked urgently

"I gave you every reason to," she said, turning her head away.

Cupping her chin in his hand, he turned her to face him. "Hey, I like a challenge," he said, hoping to lighten the mood. "Besides, it gave me a good excuse to try out some new disguises. You have to admit that I make a great Kris Kringle."

Laughing in spite of herself, she replied, "Squeegee Man was my favorite. You're quite good with accents."

"Whatever you say, babe," he said in a Brooklyn accent.

"Don't call me babe," she replied playfully.

"Sure, sweet stuff," he added. "You know…," he began, a mischievous gleam in eye. "…My personal favorite was sneaking into the steam room at the spa. Did I ever tell you how great you look in a towel?"

"Cass," she admonished, blushing furiously.

"One more dance?" he asked, just as the CD began playing Feels Like Rain.

"I'd like that," she said, pulling him toward her.

For the next five minutes, there was no distance between them. The sultry music weaved its way around them and through them, heightening their emotions and binding them together through the simple power of touch. At the end of the song, Frankie yawned softly against his chest.

"It's been a long day, Mary Frances. Let's get you some rest so that you can heal."

"Only if you'll do the same," she replied simply, wondering if he'd ask her to stay with him.

"It's a deal. You know, I didn't realize how tired I was until this very minute. It must have been the company," he said, smiling broadly.

"Must have been," she replied, returning his smile. "Let's go while I still have enough energy to move."

Taking her hand, he led her up the stairs. He wanted desperately to ask her to stay with him, but he was afraid of pushing her too far. "The, uh, bed is all made up in the guest room," he said as they reached the top of the stairs.

"Thanks, Cass," she said quietly, successfully hiding her disappointment. "I'll just follow you into your room so that I can get my bag."

"Sure," he said in response, squeezing her hand lightly.

"Do you mind if I change in your bathroom?" she asked upon retrieving her bag.

"No, of course not. Take your time."

"Thanks," she said leaving him alone in his room.

He was rummaging through his dresser trying to find something to wear when he heard her exclaim "Oh, no."

"What's wrong, Frankie?" he asked worriedly.

"Nothing, Cass," she replied, opening the door to the bathroom. "It's just that I forgot to bring something to sleep in."

"Oh. Well, I've got a t-shirt and sweats you can borrow."

"You have a t-shirt and sweatpants?" she asked quizzically.

"What, do you think I work out in a three piece suit?"

Laughing, she said, "No. It's just that I've never seen you wear anything that casual before."

"It's not a side of myself I show to just anyone. They're yours if you want them," he said, handing the clothes to her.

"Thanks, Cass," she said gratefully before returning to the bathroom.

After a few moments, she returned to his room. "Well, I guess this is goodnight, then," she said, wringing her hands.

"I guess so," he said, moving toward her and giving her a light peck on the cheek. "Sleep well, Frankie."

"I will. You too," she replied, reluctantly moving toward the door.

"Oh, and if you need anything, don't be afraid to wake me."

"I won't. Goodnight, Cass."

"Goodnight, Frankie," he replied, watching her leave.

Suddenly, she popped her head back in the door. "Do you want me to turn out the light?"

"No, I've still got to change."

"Oh, right," she said sheepishly. "Well, goodnight again."

"Sweet dreams."

Ask her to stay, you idiot, he thought, but with a smile and a nod, she was gone again. Having missed his chance, he wondered if he'd get any sleep at all.

As tired as she was, Frankie found herself unable to sleep. Her thoughts sometimes settled on her horrifying experience in the prop room, but, mostly, she was kept awake by thoughts of Cass. She remembered their dance together, how safe she felt in his arms. How she longed to have him hold her and tell her that everything would be all right.

After an hour of tossing and turning, she finally rose from the bed in sheer frustration. Somehow, she found herself at Cass' door, but she froze at the entrance. What am I doing? she thought, turning to leave.

"Frankie?" she heard him call. "Do you need something?"

Having been caught, she felt her courage return. What do I have to lose? Entering his room, she replied, "No, Cass. I just couldn't sleep."

"It seems we're both having the same problem," he replied.

"Ah. Well, I think I know the solution," she stated confidently, moving toward him.

"What's that?"

Instead of answering him, she lifted the covers of the bed and joined him there.

"Frankie, what are you doing?" a stunned Cass asked. I must be dreaming.

Placing a quick kiss on his gaping mouth, she replied playfully, "I had a wish to grant."

"A wish? Frankie, you don't think you're a genie, do you?" he asked, concern evident in his voice. "John said I should call him if you started acting strangely…."

Placing a finger over his lips, she replied, "Cass, I'm fine, really. An air vent is not exactly a bottle, but you did rescue me. I figured the least I could do is grant your request."

"What request?" he asked, confused.

"You know…the one about waking up beside me."

"Oh," he said, smiling broadly. "That request. Come here, you."

Frankie wasted no time in complying, snuggling into his arms and resting her head on his bare chest. Beyond exhaustion, she reveled in the sensation of Cass' hand stroking her hair and began to drift off to sleep.

"Frankie?"

"Hmm?"

"Do I get another wish?"

"Mmm," she mumbled, clearly not awake.

"Never mind," he whispered softly, kissing the top of her head. "I've got everything I need right here."