Spot and Silk were shoved out of the courthouse. He looked at her. "Now what?"

"You are going to stay far away from me, Spot Conlon!" she snapped.

"Hey…I don't like this anymore than you do, sweetheart…"

"Don't call me that! Besides I didn't see you protesting too much…"

"I ain't about to be deported! You agreed to it as well."

"I ain't about to rot in that prison!"

"We're both stuck in this mess."

"I hate you Spot Conlon!"

"I know you do, darling, but you're stuck with me."

"This town is plenty big enough for the both of us. You stay in your territory and I'll cover my territory."

"Except part of your territory covers part of mine, sweetheart."

"Oh…" she growled in frustration. She tried to think of a nasty retort, but finally settled on the first thing that came to mind. "Go jump off the Bridge!"

"Only if you come with me, dollface," he said with a mischievous smirk. He grabbed her hand and started dragging her in the direction of the Bridge.

She pulled out her knife and waved it dangerously close to him. "Let me go, Conlon!"

Just at that moment a couple of very familiar looking policemen rounded the corner and saw what was happening. "Not you two again!" one of them groaned.

The other chuckled slightly and said, "We're going to have to take you in for disturbing the peace."

"Aw, come on, O'Malley," Spot said. "Haven't you picked on us enough today?"

But the officers would brook no argument and hauled the newlyweds off to jail.

An hour later they were locked in a cell together. Silk dropped onto the single cot, while Spot stood at the bars yelling at the two cops. Silk rolled her eyes. "Oh come off it, Conlon," she snapped, "It's not like that's gonna get us out of here and it'll probably just annoy them enough to find some other excuse to lock us up next time they see us."

"They've been trying to get me for years," he said, turning and leaning against the bars.

"Oh, so it is all your fault then!"

"MY fault? I noticed that Adams was dragging you into the station."

"Just shut your trap and leave me alone!"

That telltale smirk appeared on his face again. "But sweetheart! It's our wedding night!"

"Don't you dare come anywhere near me Spot Conlon!"

"Well there is just the one cot."

She threw the pillow at him. "Sleep on the floor!"

He caught the pillow and clutched it to his chest, a mock wounded look on his face. "Darling, doesn't our marriage mean anything to you?"

"Remind me to wipe that look off your face when we get out of here."

"Gonna kiss it off?"

"Drop dead."

Spot continued to smirk but finally decided that he valued his life enough to stop ribbing her. For awhile. He settled himself on the floor. "Goodnight, sweetheart."

"I hope you have nightmares," she grumbled, flopping back on the cot.

"I love you too," he said, chuckling.

She sat bolt upright. "Spot Conlon, don't you ever say you love me again!" she hissed.

Spot could tell that this was something different than her annoyance at his previous teasing. "Yes ma'am."

She lay back down again, shivering slightly though she wasn't cold. That was the first time in her life anyone had said they loved her.

----------

Thin fingers of sunlight found their way through the bars of the small window located near the top of the wall of the jail cell and woke the newlyweds. Or maybe it was the sound of the barred door sliding open. It was hard to tell, but one way or another Silk and Spot were scrambling up and out of their confinement.

"Try to stay out of trouble, Conlon," O'Malley said as he led the couple toward the door.

Spot snorted derisively. "Not likely, O'Malley."

"You too, Mrs. Conlon," the cop said, smirking at Silk.

Spot grabbed Silk and dragged her toward the door to keep her from acting on her impulse to slug the officer. She was struggling to get away from him all the way out of the station.

"Get your filthy hands off me, Spot Conlon!" she yelled, struggling to get free.

Once they were outside on the sunlit sidewalk he complied. "Now I couldn't let you land yourself in jail again before you'd even made it out of the station, could I?"

She huffed and didn't reply.

They stood facing each other for a moment, then Spot spoke. "So, how are we going to handle this?"

"You stay out of my territory and I'll stay out of yours."

He nodded. "Fine."

She looked at him for a moment before spitting in her hand and holding it out to him.

He returned the gesture. Then as he released her hand a troubled look flitted through his eyes. "Silk," he said hesitantly, "Have you thought about what'll happen if either of us ever meets someone we actually want to marry?"

She stiffened. "I don't want to talk about it."

He shrugged, as though it didn't matter. "Fine, see ya 'round then," he said, "Oh wait…"

"What?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"Well we just agreed to stay out of each other's territories, right? So I won't be seeing you."

"Exactly!"

His inevitable smirk was tugging at the corner of his mouth again. "Well, darling, if I'm to be exiled from your presence at least let me . . ." Without actually finishing his request for permission he leaned forward and kissed her.

Before she could react he had disappeared into the crowd. She stormed away in the opposite direction, muttering unrepeatable things.