"They're not here." Starsky's voice held the despair he was feeling. Red had left the clothes at the front of the building; Stan had picked them up with a curt, "Wait here until further notice," and slipped away before Starsky and Big Ben moved in. All three searched the large, unfinished building until it was obvious Mickey and Hutch were not there.

Big Ben was gasping from the effort of hurrying through the building. "We can't give up, Starsky."

"Never going to give up on my partner," Starsky said firmly. "Or Mickey."

"How many buildings does she control?" Big Ben asked.

"Too many." Red was glum.

"Our best bet is staying here until someone comes back for you and follow them – are you sure York will send for you?" Starsky asked edgily.

"She wants me present at the 'party'," Red answered. "To make sure of my loyalty. She was not happy at the time with me talking her out of killing Mickey. She suspects I am too fond of her."

"I hate waiting," Starsky ground his teeth in frustration.

"They are both still alive, else this dressing up wouldn't make sense."

'Unless she is dressing them up for their funerals', Starsky thought, but couldn't say out loud.

Ken and Mickey grudgingly showered and dressed according to orders. Both had agreed to let Francine York think she was firmly in control until they had a chance to get away. Ken would pretend to be physically weaker than he was – not a big stretch as he was still recovering from the impact of the car and his time in the cold.

Mickey would pretend she was more cowed than she was, something that would appeal to Francine's smugness.

Both agreed to go out fighting if there was no other way available.

"Hope I fit the Queen's orders," Mickey said mockingly, running her fingers through her hair. "I don't have natural curls."

"I look okay?" Ken asked. He had on a silver-gray suit with a blue shirt that matched his eyes.

"Beautiful," Mickey said admiringly. "Always said you were the best-looking guy in the universe."

"And it appears you are right, darling," Francine York entered the room with grand style. She stared at Ken; then looked over to Mickey. "Tell me, darling, why everyone calls you 'Little Lena' and yet your mother was beautiful, and you are not."

"Mickey has her own kind of beauty," her brother defended.

Francine's amused gaze shifted to Ken. "You, on the other hand, are the prettiest man I've ever seen. Tall, well-built, gorgeous in every way. You received Lena's beauty, not your sister."

Ken did not know how to react to her statements and as usual, blushed slightly.

The two goons that had labeled them 'Ken and Barbie' were amused as well.

"Get some nice pictures of them, Stan," Francine ordered one of the goons. "I want you both to smile."

"Why should we?" Mickey challenged.

"You are difficult, darling. I would hate to mar your brother's beauty."

The veiled threat worked. Mickey's heels gave her another two inches; and she stood next to Ken, arms firmly around each other, though neither could manage more than a fake smile.

"Now, Ken, please play and sing for our entertainment – you could sing the song you wrote and sang at Ingrid's funeral – I understand it was well-received."

Ken winched at the reminder and Mickey gave him a supportive squeeze. Stan put the guitar near him, leering at Mickey.

"Frank, get the recorder ready. Frank!" The second goon eyed Ken the same way Stan eyed Mickey.

"Now, Ken darling, you don't want to disappoint me or I may have to take it out on your little sister."

Ken took a deep breath. His mouth was dry, and his throat constricted. He didn't know how he could force the words out; but he tried to steady his hands and strummed the guitar. He knew without seeing the hate burning out of Mickey's blue eyes as she glared at their tormentor. Mickey grabbed a bottle of water and Ken took several grateful sips. He closed his eyes, concentrating on playing for Ingrid. His performance was shakier than at the funeral and his head dropped when he finished.

Frank switched the recorder off.

"If looks could kill," Francine addressed Mickey first. "Very nice, Ken, beautiful and talented as well. A son any father would be proud of."

"You can do anything you want to me, just please let my sister go." Ken pleaded.

Francine's eyes widened. "Anything?"

"Kenny, no!" Mickey exploded. "You can't save me, Francine wants me dead, please just kill me and let my brother go."

"And would you do anything to save him?"

Mickey's eyes closed briefly, taken back to the discussion she and Jed had one year ago about everyone having a price. She denied she did; but Jed brought up if Ken's life was at stake, she would give in. She would now face that choice. "Yes," she said steadily. "I would."

Francine's smiled in approval. "I will grant one of your wishes. I will let Mickey live, Ken, but on one condition."

"What is that?" Ken lifted his head proudly and sighed in relief.

"You will become my lover."

TBC