1Suddenly music filled the room as the band started up.

"Now for a dance of our newlyweds," the dj said, clicking on a recorded song.

Jackson took Lisa by the hand and led her out to the ballroom floor. He took her hand and put his other hand on her waist and they slow-danced to the gently rocking music.

You're beautiful, the chorus line sang.

"This is an awfully depressing song you picked for our big dance," Lisa whispered, leaning her head on Jackson's shoulder.

"Why's that?" he asked her, lightly caressing her hand.

"The guy kills himself at the end of the music video," Lisa giggled. Jackson looked at her.

"Yeah, but it basically represents the feelings I have for you," he said, explaining as the song continued to play.

You're beautiful, it's true...

I've got a plan...

I saw your face in a crowded place. "The airport," Lisa whispered. Jackson nodded.

I know I can't have you, it finished.

Lisa looked up at him. "That's how I felt...after you shot me," he explained. "You were beautiful, and I realized I loved you, but couldn't have you."

"But you did," she whispered as the last guitar chord was strummed.

Lisa and Jackson stood there looking at each other as they absorbed the last few lingering notes of the song. Suddenly they heard the clanking of metal on glass. Lisa and Jackson returned to their seats as Lisa began her toast.

"They always had a weird relationship," Cynthia spoke. "I mean, he terrorized her on a plane, she stuck a pen in his trachea, he threw her down a flight of stairs, she stabbed him with her heel, she shot him. But...I guess love happens to the weirdest of couples."

Sarah and about all of Jackson's family, along with some of Lisa's, stood up angry and confused.

"Shit," Jackson swore under his breath. "I didn't tell them...I told you they didn't know I was a manager...I'm guessing you didn't tell either?"

Lisa shook her head and inwardly cursed Cynthia as people began to crowd around.

"Come on," Jackson muttered, taking her hand.

"What are we doing?" she asked nervously as he pulled her through the crowd.

"What do you think we're doing?" he asked her as they finally reached the door. "We're getting the hell out of here."

They bolted into the limo and the driver whisked them off as the stars were just beginning to appear.

"We're going to the airport," Jackson explained, buckling up. "To get on the plane to France."

Lisa nodded, her heartbeat slowly returning to normal. "My luggage?" she inquired.

"Oh, I took the liberty of having one of my more trusted associates bring your suitcase to the airport," he told her, settling back into the plush leather seat. There was silence for a few minutes.

"Jackson," Lisa asked finally. "Why did we have to get away from there so fast?"

"Well," he sighed, turning to look at her. "I have a very strong feeling that if your family finds out I nearly killed you, they may not be all that willing to call me son. In fact, I'm sure they wouldn't be disinclined to hurt me."

"Well, I'm sure your family doesn't exactly think I'm wonderful," she reasoned. "I shot you."

"Self- defense," Jackson said. Lisa laughed, noticing how he always used that excuse. She laughed away all of the stress of the day, laughed until tears dripped down her face. Jackson stared at her like she'd finally lost it, but finally her shaking shoulders got the best of him and he began to laugh too.

Suddenly, they were pulled up in front of the airport.

"Now," he said, helping Lisa from the car. "You have the choice of flying coach or 1st class. I know any sane person would prefer the latter, but it's been proven that you're obviously not that."

Lisa laughed. "You know why I'm all coach, all the time, Jackson? I like interacting with other people. It makes me happy."

"Suit yourself," he said as they entered the airport.

They got checked in and had several minutes before the flight, so Lisa decided to use the restroom and change out of her dress. As she washed her hands, a blonde head popping out of a stall shocked her.

"Rebecca?" Lisa said to her.