Wedding Bells Are Ringing

by mg78

Ch 16 now is up. Had to change it to M because of the violence and a lovemaking scene. On June 24, 2011, New York legalized gay marriage, Blair and Jo were there to witness the historic event. Now they plan to have a wedding and reflect back on the day they became a couple. One other pairing as well. Part of my LJ FoL fiction challenge. Sequel to "Joanna, I Love You" - On hiatus

10. Lez-splosion!

Wedding Bells Are Ringing – Chapter 10

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It was six o'clock on Monday morning when Jo's internal clock started to ring. Groggily she woke up and looked at her phone. The digital display said that it was exactly 6:03 am. The brunette rubbed her eyes to make sure she saw the time correctly. Sure enough, it was 6:03 in the morning. Jo yawned as she wondered what would get her up so early. Then, suddenly, she saw the date in the corner – June 27, 2011. She stared at the day for a while because this was a very significant date for Jo. Eventually, she stopped looking and tried her best to hold back her tears. Despite her efforts, one tear was able to slip out and run down her cheek. Vivid memories of what happened eleven years ago today were coming back to her in graphic detail. It was as if it was only yesterday that Jo talked to Jessie for the last time.

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(Flashback to June 27, 2000)

Jo was volunteering at her uncle Sal's garage on that spring afternoon. It seemed like an ordinary day, and there was no hint that anything significant would happen. Getting her hands on bikes and cars never got old, and Jo wanted to give her uncle a hand since his kids had less time to help him since they had jobs and families of their own. Family was important, and Jo couldn't see her uncle Sal Largo struggle by himself. It was mid-afternoon and Jo was busy tinkering with a chopper when she suddenly got a call on her Ericsson T28 flip-phone. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and looked at the number. The display showed that the number was unavailable, but Jo answered it anyway.

"Hello?" asked Jo somewhat apprehensively.

"Hey, Joey, it's me, Kelly."

Kelly was calling from jail because she was recently busted for drug dealing. She had been sentenced to twenty years in prison, but was in due for parole in five. Four other inmates were waiting their turn to use the phone, but Kelly didn't care. She needed to talk to her old friend.

"Hey, what's up, Kel? How are things in the slamma'?"

Kelly looked down at her prison sanctioned orange jump suit and replied sarcastically, "Well, the duds do nothin' for me, Joey. Ya think Blondie can get us a new spring line from Gucci?"

"All right, all right, smart ass. Seriously though, Kel. How's it hangin'?"

"Well, prison kinda sucks here. I'm tryin' my best to stay clean so I can get that parole, yet people want to come after me or want me to join a gang. I guess my rep as a kid followed me here. It's like I'm the go-to chick and they all want my skills. But, I know if I join a gang, it will be next to impossible to get parole, for I'll be under their whim. If they get into a beef with another gang, though, I'll have to jump in."

"Yeah, that's true," Jo simply said.

"The only good thing here is the women. It's like a smorgasbord!"

"Kelly, don't tell me you're busy screwin' around?"

"Hell, yeah, I am! I'm basically drownin' in pussy here! I've bagged at least seven girls and even had two threesomes," exclaimed an excited Kelly, who enjoyed boasting her sexual escapades to Jo. "Besides fuckin', there really ain't much ta do. There's readin', workin' out, and watchin' TV, but that's it. So, gimme a break, huh? Plus, things ain't free, so you gotta get a 'job' and work for stuff like food, cigarettes, etc."

However, Jo couldn't give her friend a break because she was concerned where her sexual adventures could lead. "Kelly, you need to be careful. You don't know what they're carrying. Lesbians can still get AIDS ya know. Also, you may bang the wrong chick that belongs to Big Bertha, who may shank ya for tappin' her piece of ass."

"Stop bustin' my chops. I can handle myself," Kelly claimed gruffly.

"Kel, you're in a maximum security prison. Chicks in there are tougher than they are on the streets. Ya can't take the chances you're used to. In the slamma it could end with more than just a beatin' and I ain't there to bail ya out."

"Like I said, don't worry 'bout me, Jo. I got this. Memba, it's not like this is my first rodeo. I know how to buck like the rest of them."

"Whatever, Kel."

Sure, this was not Kelly's first time in jail, but those other arrests were for minor charges, and she never went to maximum security. The girls in maximum security were nothing to play around with, but Kelly was too proud to admit that it could be intimidating. Besides, you couldn't show your weaknesses or you'd be done for in a minute.

"Anyhow, I'm not callin' for me, Joey. I'm callin' ya 'bout Jessie. She's not doin' so good right now, and I think ya need ta talk ta her. I tried, but I ain't getting' through ta her."

"Oh, no... You know Jessie doesn't want to talk to me."

"That's not what it sounded like when I talked to her."

"You heard what she said to me a few years ago. She never wanted to speak to me ever again."

"Yo, that was five years ago, Joey. Times change, people change, for better or worse. Jessie may be for worse, but she's still your homie. Come on. Ya used to be tight."

"Yeah, that's the operative word there, Kel – used to be."

"Don't be that way, Joey."

"What way? You're right, people change and I happened to grow up while Jess didn't."

"Come on Jo, she will always be your ride or die, just like you and me."

Jo heaved a heavy sigh over the phone.

Kelly continued, "And ya ain't given up on me yet."

"But that's different."

"No, it ain't, Joey. Please, don't turn your back on her. You need to straighten her up, get her head on straight. Come on, at least do it for me."

"Oh, alright," said Jo as she rolled her eyes. "Give me her number and I'll give her a call. I can't make any promises, but I'll give it a go."

Kelly smiled as she gave Jo the number.

"That's all I'm askin' for, Kid. Talk ta ya later."

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That night, Jo tried to call her old friend, Jessie. She didn't get through on the first attempt, which concerned her a little bit considering what Kelly told her. What if she was too late? There was no way Jo was going to stop now. So, she tried again, and this time Jessie answered. Come to find out, Jessie only had a simple, cordless phone that lacked a digital display, so she was apprehensive about answering. She figured that if it was important, the person would call back. So, when Jo called again, Jessie answered the phone.

"Hello."

"Heya, Jess, it's me."

Not expecting to her old friend's voice on the other end, Jessie answered, "Jo?"

"Surprised to hear me?"

"Hell, yeah. It's almost like gettin' a call from the President. Ya ain't tried to talk to me in a long time. What's it a national emergency?" asked Jessie sarcastically.

Jo suspected that Jessie was under the influence of some substance. Her speech was slurred and she was a bit incoherent. Jo guessed that Jessie was a bit drunk and a bit high. Neither was good news, but Jo knew that the combination could be lethal. Sure, she made illegal cocktails in her youth, but she knew how deadly mixing drugs and alcohol could be. At least Kelly got arrested before she could kill herself. The jail would provide rehab and help Kelly overcome her addictions. Jessie needed help and Jo knew that she should have kept in touch. "Well, sorry for not callin' and talkin' to ya for a while. Ya did say you didn't wanna speak to me ever again, though."

Even in her clouded state, Jessie remembered their last conversation.

"Yeah, I did, but I thought you still might try to contact me. I just figured ya had given up on me, 'cuz there was no hope."

Jo was feeling bad now. "I'm sorry. I would never give up on ya, Jess. It's just," Jo had to pause to find the right words to say, "I was so angry at you at the time."

"Well, then what makes ya call me now? Nothin's changed."

"Because Kelly said something's wrong with you."

"Well, Kelly's full of shit," Jessie sneered as she threw her friend under the bus.

"Hey! Seems to me that she's right. You sound drunk and high right now."

"Sounds can be deceivin.'"

"You ain't foolin' me, Jess. I deal wit' drunks and druggies all day. Remember, I'm a cop."

"Yeah, I rememba. Ya fall on the other side on the thin, blue line now and take pride bustin' your friends."

"Jess, it ain't like that. I really care about you and Kel."

"Hell, Jo. Ya don't give a lick for me or Kel."

"Dammit, yes I do." Jo took a deep breath before she continued because it sounded like she was losing Jessie. She needed to regain Jessie's confidence if she had any chance of talking some sense into one of her former best friends. "Listen, Jess. Kel tells me you've been drinkin' heavily and you've been doin' drugs hardcore."

"Yeah, so? What's it to ya?" Jessie responded flippantly.

"Dammit, Jess, you're my friend! I don't wanna see you end up like Kelly, or worse."

"Oh, so now you're feelin' guilty? Is that what it takes for you to care about us?" she derided.

"What are yo talkin' bout? I've always cared for you guys."

"Don't bullshit me, Jo. When ya went to that snotty school, ya forget where ya came from."

Jo sighed. "Jessie, I never forgot 'bout my roots."

"Don't give me that. Your loyalties shifted, Jo. You care more about Ms. Moneybags and your preppy friends than ya do 'bout us."

"Of course I care about Blair more than anyone else. She's my woman, my other half, my reason for breathing, and I love her! Jess, when I went to Eastland, I had to grow up. I couldn't just screw around anymore."

"So, you're saying that's all I do – screw around. Well, fuck you, Jo." Now Jessie was speaking in a more blunt tone.

"That's not what I meant, Jess."

"Well, what'd ya mean then, traitor."

"I just had to change, Jess. Sure, I lived in Peekskill, but the Bronx was always my home."

"Yeah, great way to show it. Walkin' out on us and siding with the hoity toity bunch."

"Jess, I was put in that situation. Ya think I didn't feel any pressure? I had to change or I'd be screwed. Hell, I got arrested the first night I was there."

"Yeah, but ya got bailed out by that old bag."

"Don't you dare insult Mrs. G!" Jo spat. Although she wanted to appeal to Jessie and make her see reason, she was really pissed that Jessie would insult the woman who was more like a mother to her than anyone else.

"Ooo, touchy, touchy," Jessie mocked. "Look, Jo, we all don't have people goin' to bat for us. We have to fend for ourselves. We're the ones down in the trenches. We don't got people on our side to help us out of a jam and vouch for us."

"You had me, Jess. You always had me in your corner. Can't ya see that?"

"All I see is a sellout who chose her new friends over her true friends."

"Jess, I grew close to Blair, Natalie, and Tootie. Don'tcha get it? We went to school together, we worked together, we ate together, we slept together."

"Yeah, I'm sure ya did," said Jessie mockingly.

"You know what I mean."

"Well, you got it easy. You were given a chance. Kel and I weren't so lucky."

"Jess, you had a choice. You chose drugs."

"Like you chose to bust Kel on a bum rap just to fill your quota for the month?"

"Sellin' meth? That ain't just a bum rap. Hey, besides, I was doin' her a favor. She'll get the help and treatment she needs in jail. It was her decision to deal drugs and it was my choice to save her from herself," Jo said in her own defense.

"No matter what you try to say, Jo, you fuckin' betrayed us."

Now Jo was beyond frustrated as she screamed in anger, "Dammit, Jess, I was doin' my fucking job! I had no choice but to help in the investigation. Besides, I helped get Kelly the best lawyer she could get! What the fuck else do you want from me?!"

"How 'bout the truth?"

There was no point in sugarcoating it, so Jo replied matter-of-factly, "The truth is she'll get help in rehab, and you need help kickin' the drugs and alcohol before ya end up six feet under."

"Why the fuck do you think we want your help of any kind? Why, dammit!" said an infuriated Jessie.

Instead of screaming back, Jo calmly told her, "Because you sound like you can use some help."

"Whatcha goin' to do? Arrest my ass too?"

"Jess, you're not in a right state o' mind. Don't try to fool me. You're hurtin' inside."

Jessie started to cry. "No, I'm not hurtin' inside. And why should you care anyway? My boyfriend left me. Kelly's in jail, and I might be next. What the hell do I really have to look forward to, Jo? Huh? What?"

"The rest of your life, Jess. You can still make sumthin' outta it, but you need ta kick the drugs and alcohol," said Jo, trying to sound like a caring friend.

However, Jess could care less. "It's too late, Jo. I don't got a sugar momma to help me out like you do. Truth is, I want nothing from ya. I'm through with ya. Why don't ya just go back to that snooty rich bitch of yours and leave me the fuck alone?"

"You take that back," said Jo in a cold and angry tone. She could take the verbal insults if they pertained to her, but nobody took a jab at her woman.

"No, I won't. Ya know what? Fuck you, your rich bitch, your old bag, and your preppy, loser friends."

Jo was pissed that Jessie would insult everyone who was closest to her. It was such a low blow, that Jo couldn't even let a former friend get away with it. All she wanted to do was help, but all Jessie wanted to do was push her buttons. This was the last straw. "Fine," yelled Jo, "fuck you too."

Jo slammed her phone shut then began to pace to cool down. How could Jessie be so insensitive? They both grew up knowing that if ya poke your nose in family business, ya end up breathin' through your ears. They also knew that family came first and if ya mess with one member, ya end up dealing with them all. How could Jessie not understand that? Was she so drunk or high that she had forgotten some of the most basic rules in the Bronx code. Or did she just not care? Either way, Jo couldn't let her get away with it. Not by a longshot.

After Jo cooled down, she started to feel guilty about how they had left things. Maybe yelling at Jessie wasn't the best thing to do. After all, Jessie was clearly under the influence of something and she wasn't being herself. So, after a little while Jo tried to call again. However, all she got was the sound of a disconnected line. It was obvious that Jessie wanted to make it clear that she didn't want to speak to Jo again. As a result, Jo reluctantly decided not to bother Jessie again.

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Four days later, while Jo was in her office during a night shift, she got a call from a Bronx cop.

"Polniaczek," she answered automatically.

"Hey, Polniaczek, it's Detective Robert O'Ryan from the 44th precinct in the Bronx."

"Hey, O'Ryan , how are you?" asked Jo. She knew Detective O'Ryan personally because she used to work in the 43th precinct in the Bronx, so they ran into each other very often.

"I'm fine, Jo," said the detective as he slipped into his conversational tone, "but I got some bad news for you."

One thing that immediately struck Jo was the way Detective O'Ryan informally addressed her. Cops tried to maintain an image of professionalism while on duty, so the fact that he addressed her by her first name caught her attention.

"Yeah, what is it?" she asked. Jo also knew that if a cop was calling her from the Bronx about some bad news, then it likely pertained to someone she knew, like her mother or a friend of hers.

"Remember Jessie, the one who used to hang around with your old friend, Kelly, a lot?"

"Yeah? Of course, I remember Jessie." Then it hit her. "Please, don't tell me…"

"I'm sorry Jo, but she was in an automobile accident. She crashed into a building at the intersection of East 165th Street and Brook Avenue. No tests have been done, but we found two open whiskey bottles and 10 grams of heroin in the car. Evidence shows that she was not wearing a seat belt at the time of impact. She's in critical condition."

"Is she still at the scene?"

"Yeah, and from your 10-20 (cop talk for location), chances are, if you leave now, she'll still be here when you arrive."

"Okay, I'm leavin' right now!"

Jo quickly left her precinct in Manhattan and headed straight to her old stomping ground in the Bronx. When she got arrived at the scene of the accident, she saw a covered stretcher. It was clear that there was a body under that white shroud of death.

As she approached the scene, a rookie cop stopped her and wouldn't let her pass the yellow tape.

"Sorry, Ms.," said the cop as she held up a hand to stop Jo's progress. "Authorized personnel only."

In response, Jo whipped out her badge and showed it to the young officer. "This is my ticket to pass," said Jo as she waited for the rookie cop to confirm her credentials.

"Sorry, Sergeant Polniaczek," said the rookie as she looked away in embarrassment and returned Jo's badge.

As Jo was passing the young officer, she flashed a small smile and put her hand reassuringly on the rookie's shoulder. "Hey, it's okay," said Jo, "you were just doing your job."

Jo's reassurance made the rookie officer smile back and nod her head. "Thanks," she said.

The superior officer nodded back and ducked under the police tape. Jo had to respect a fellow female officer doing her duty. If the circumstances weren't so grim, Jo may have offered to take the rookie out for a beer when their shifts were over. As it stood, however, Jo had some personal business to attend to.

As she approached Detective O'Ryan, Jo couldn't keep her eyes off the covered stretcher.

"Hey, long time, no see, Polniaczek," said Detective O'Ryan as he offered Jo his hand.

"Hiya, Bob," replied Jo as she returned the handshake. She didn't even bother with formalities. Right now, being professional was the furthest thing from her mind. "I know my life's mainly in Manhattan now," she continued, "but I never forgot my boys back in the Bronx. I guess that's her right there," said Jo as she pointed to the covered stretcher.

"Yeah, that's her," answered Detective O'Ryan as he looked away. He couldn't bring himself to face his former colleague. "When we spoke, she had a weak pulse, but five minutes later, she died." Detective O'Ryan placed a comforting hand on Jo's shoulder as he said, "I'm so sorry, Jo."

The brunette placed her hand on his and gave a nod of gratitude before walking toward the stretcher. She tried desperately to hide her tears as she approached the covered body. Jo knew it had to be Jessie, but it still hurt. She showed her badge to the surrounding cops and pulled down the sheets to reveal the body's head and chest. It was indeed Jessie. Jo instantly started to cry, and she had to walk away.

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Now Jo was kicking herself for not calling Jessie back or doing more to help her former friend. Jessie's death could have been prevented, she thought. Her head was filled with heavy regrets and her inactions made her hurt on the inside. If only she would have put more effort into stopping Jessie, she'd still be alive today. Maybe she should have contacted someone to arrest her former friend when Jessie refused to answer her phone calls. There were people in law enforcement who would be willing to do her a solid. Jo had done many favors over the years without ever asking for anything in return, so she knew that she could have convinced someone to take Jessie in. Although Jessie would have been mad at Jo and probably would have accused her for setting her up, at least she would have received the help she needed to kick her habits. Yet, Jo decided to heed Jessie's wishes and leave her alone. Now, Jo was thinking Jessie's death was all her fault.

Later on that night, Jo called Kelly in jail and told her the bad news. Not much of a crier, Kelly tried to hold her emotions in check. No one wanted to look weak in the general prison population because it'd get you jumped in a second. However, when Kelly returned to her cell and made sure she was alone, she started to cry. She just couldn't hold it in any longer because a childhood friend of hers was dead. Gone were the days of running around in the Bronx, going to nightclubs, and raiding rival gang's territory. They had done many crazy things together and they always seemed to come out on top. Yet, this time it was not meant to have a happy ending.

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A few days later, a funeral was held for Jessie. Sadly, it was a small gathering because Jessie didn't have as many surviving relatives or friends. That's the breaks growing up in the Bronx. However, Jo made it a point to attend her former friend's funeral. It was the least she felt she could do to honor Jessie's memory. Kelly, who was escorted by two prison guards, was also in attendance.

Jo met up with Kelly after the funeral to talk about Jessie.

"I shoulda called her before the accident," said Jo sadly.

"No need ta feel guilty 'bout it, Joey. At least ya called her before she died. Ya got some sense of closure."

"But I shoulda done more. I shoulda helped her," sniffed Jo.

"Listen, Jo, this guilt trip is gettin' us nowhere. All it's done is split us up, sent me to the slamma,' and drove Jess to an early grave. We need ta squash it here and now."

Jo thought about it for a bit and said, "You're right, Kel."

"I'm serious, Jo. We need ta move forward or else we'll end up like Jessie. I'm now thankful for ya bustin' me because I got a chance to clean up my life for once. I've hurt so many people," Kelly was trying her best not to cry, "and did so many bad things. I just wanna move on and do better with my life. I wanna make somethin' of myself like you did."

"You're right, Kel. I can't blame myself for what happened to Jessie."

"No, you can't, and you shouldn't either. Jessie was given many opportunities to stop with the drugs and alcohol, but she didn't. That's not your fault, that's hers. You know we all have choices: that was Jess.'"

"You're right, Kel. It was her choice, so let's just move on from here. At least you're still around."

Kelly smiled and then they hugged. Thankfully, the chains in the cuffs where long enough for the former friends to embrace with little difficulty. They looked at each other and continued to hug as they both looked forward to a brighter future.

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(back to present)

After her reverie, Jo was wondering why Blair just couldn't get it. She had a responsibility to her friends. Jo was not one to like "mush," but she wanted to spread herself around to all her loved ones, but they were spreading her thin. Why did they have to make her chose? Why couldn't they just put their differences aside for once? Jo didn't ask for much, and all she wanted was for her two worlds to coexist instead of colliding. However, that did not seem to be likely. Now, she was worried that Blair might end up with a similar fate as Jessie is she didn't do something about it soon.

Breakfast at the inn's restaurant didn't open until 7:30 am, so that gave Jo enough time to jump on her computer. While she was checking her email, she noticed that Natalie had sent her one marked URGENT. She opened the email and saw a link to a video. It was the wedding rehearsal, in all of it's infamy. There was Blair having her hissy fit, Nancy and her rambunctious kids, and Kelly's appearance, which caused the whole thing to go sour. She also saw the argument between Blair and Molly and, although she wasn't sure about it, she thought she also noticed a spark between Kelly and Kim. She brushed off the notion that Kelly and Kim could have any attraction between them because they were completely different and, besides, they just met. No one could possibly fall that fast. As proven by how long it took Jo to realize that Blair liked her, combined with the fact that she needed Molly and Natalie's help to finally figure it out, Jo was like Stevie Wonder when it came to romantic attractions – totally blind.

As Jo closed the video page, she knew she had to get back home soon, or else things would get worse for Blair. Little did she know that it already had gotten worse for her fiancé, but she didn't find that out until she went to the restaurant for breakfast.

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Later that morning, while having a sprouted-wheat toast with cage-free eggs and non-concentrated orange juice, Jo was watching TV along with the rest of the restaurant's patrons.

The TV was on and the channel just happened to be tuned into TMZ on TV. In the intro, the announcers showed the footage of the food court fight with Blair and Kelly going at it. Jo was immediately embarrassed, but it got even worse when they showed Jo's face and proclaimed that the heiress's fiancé was missing. All at once, everyone turned to look at Jo. Apparently, they noticed the resemblance between her and the woman on the screen.

"Oh, shit..." Jo muttered.

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Meanwhile, back in New York, Blair turned on her TV and began surfing through the channels. She couldn't get the memory of seeing her outlandish behavior mentioned on the computer the previous night out of her mind. With any luck, no one would pay attention to a small blurb on the internet. As long as no major television networks got wind of the incident, Blair's image would be intact. However, she soon realized after turning on the television that she had a reason to be uneasy. Most of the channels were talking about the food fight incident. She eventually stopped on TMZ on TV because a familiar face flashed on the screen.

"Lez-splosion!" As the announcer shouted followed by an explosion.

The reporter walked over to a woman in a full-length mink coat who had an evil grin on her face.

"This individual approached us with some interesting information about Ms. Warner – Ms. Margo Thomas."

"Hello, darling," said Margo as she gently shook the reporter's offered hand.

"First off, thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to give us this exclusive interview."

"Oh, trust me, it's my pleasure," answered Margo as she looked directly into the camera. It looked as if was looking straight at Blair with those cold, cruel eyes of hers. Blair knew that this could not be good, but her curiosity got the better of her. She had to watch.

"So, Mrs. Thomas, what can you tell us about Ms. Warner?"

"Well, Blairy Pie used to be part of a powerful threesome on the Eastland campus," began Margo with a flip of her hair.

"Huh?" the reporter asked questioning Margo's choice of words.

Realizing the confusion based on the expression on the reporter's face and wanting to avoid such implications, Margo spouted, "Ewwww! Not that type of threesome! I'm not a lezbo! Blair's the only queer here. Excuse me, I mean, lesbian."

"Uh, please continue," the reporter pressed, not willing to draw attention to Margo's homophobia.

"It was her, Alison, and me. We gave each other cute little nicknames: Blairy Pie, Allie Kins, and Margo Cakes. We were an unstoppable force on campus – the queen bees of Eastland. Let me tell you like this, we were the original Mean Girls before Lindsay Lohan was even born."

"That's an interesting analogy, Mrs. Thomas. What happened?" asked the reporter who appeared clearly interested. After all, Lindsay Lohan was a favorite media icon and the mere mention of her in connection with this story piqued the reporter's interests. She was like a shark drawn to the blood of the wounded in a small body of water. Now, she just needed to go in for the kill.

"Well," Margo began, "then, Alison goes off and gets pregnant, drops out of school, and marries her Prince Charming. I thought, okay, it's still me and Blair against the world. Then that homo hoodlum from the Bronx shows up, gets Blair in trouble, put on probation, and literally rips her away from her former life."

"Mrs. Thomas. It sounds like you're a little jealous of Ms. Warner's relationship with Ms. Polniaczek."

"Jealous? There's nothing to be jealous of. That girl had nothing going for her."

"But you said Ms. Warner was ripped from her former life."

"Yes, yes," yelled Margo. "That little delinquent witch swooped in and cast a spell on Blair. She conned her into cutting all ties with her real friends."

"Can you explain exactly what happened?"

"What happened? What happened! Blair forgot about me. All she cared about was that little dyke on a bike."

The reporter wanted to say something to Margo about using the word dyke on camera, but she kept quite instead. "It appears that you still harbor ill feelings toward Ms. Polniaczek for befriending your childhood chum."

"Of course I'm not happy. I tried to extend an olive branch to BOTH of them. I even tried to give that little ragamuffin friend of Blair's a job as a waitress at one of my parents' parties, and what did Blair do? She took that Bulldagger bitch's side. She even shoved a pie in my face. That's gratitude for you."

"So, this recent incident doesn't surprise you?" asked the reporter as she sought the connection to Blair Warner's current erratic behavior.

"Hell, no. Blair likes food fights. It's so fitting of one that fell so low to do kitchen duty in high school. She went from debutante to domestic just like that," said Margo as she snapped her fingers for emphasis.

"It seems like you enjoy people seeing Ms. Warner at her worst," claimed the reporter.

"Honestly, I just want people to see the true Blair Warner. She is a self-righteous, conniving, lezbo bitch, who will stop at nothing to get her way. But I got her this time. Do you hear me, Blair," shouted Margo as she grabbed the microphone and looked in the camera, "You're done, bitch!"

"Thank you," said the reporter as she tore the mic away from Margo who was still ranting in the background. Security literally had to hold Margo back from chasing down the cameraman and continue her verbal blasting of Blair.

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The next image was of another reporter approaching a longhaired brunette woman in jeans and a short, black leather jacket. She was chewing gum with her mouth wide open – obviously she had no thoughts about how she looked in the public eye.

"Hello, Ms. Teresa Barksdale," the reporter started

"Please," interrupted the woman, "call me Tumpy, man."

The reporter looked at her questionably as she confirmed what she just heard. "Tumpy?" inquired the reporter.

"Yeah, Tumpy."

"Okay, Tumpy…" the reporter replied. She was thinking, "What the hell is a middle-aged woman doing, going around calling herself 'Tumpy?'"

"What is your relationship with Ms. Warner?" continued the reporter.

"Ha, relationship? Right. I thought we were cool back in Eastland, man. You know, tight? But she betrayed me, man."

"What do you mean 'she betrayed you?'" asked the reporter.

"I not only got her into the most exclusive group on campus, but I allowed her little friend to join, too."

"Are you referring to Ms. Warner's fiancé, Ms. Polniaczek?"

"What? Hell, no. I don't even really know that little street punk. I'm talkin' 'bout Blair's hillbilly friend, Sue Ann Weaver. I convinced my group that they were both cool. And how does Blair repay me? She snitches and gets me and the group kicked outta school. I coulda pulled her extensions out, right down to her natural roots. And, honey," she said as she put a hand on the reporters shoulder, "they ain't blonde."

"Did you say Sue Ann Weaver? Do you mean the co-owner of the W Group modeling agency? Isn't that former supermodel Cindy Webster's lover?"

"Yeah, man. That's her alright. You shoulda seen Cindy back in those days before she became this supermodel. She had pig-tails and bug eyes!"

The reporter was trying not to laugh when she said, "Really?"

"Yeah, I got a picture on my tablet." So, Tumpy pulled out her tablet and went to the Gallery app, then searched for the picture until she found one of Cindy holding a trophy. Tumpy had gotten the photo from the 1979-1980 Eastland Yearbook. When the reporter saw the picture, she couldn't hold her laughter in any longer.

"See that? That's your supermodel right there," Tumpy said as she grinned. "Cindy Crawford was always hotter, in my opinion."

The reporter then returned to the main topic of discussion, although this new information was quite intriguing and tempting to jump on. "So, you're implying that Ms. Warner takes advantage of people?"

It was a pretty ironic statement considering it seemed that Tumpy was willing to take advantage of the opportunity to discredit and try to embarrass her former classmates.

"She would step on anyone to get ahead," replied Tumpy. "Her whole family's nothing but a bunch of crooks and liars, man. You can ask Kathy Hilton about that."

"Oh, we shall," said the reporter with a smirk. "But is there anything else you want to tell us about your relationship with Ms. Warner?"

"I have a personal stake bringing her true colors to light. She walked out on one of her best friends to slum with a member of the Sweathog gang. Then she bit her tongue when I was thrown outta school for doin' drugs. Let me tell you, man, she's not Miss Innocent. She has a tarnished past, believe me."

"Can you elaborate anymore on her questionable past? Like why did she attack this particular woman?"

"Well, I'm not defending that scum bucket either," replied Tumpy as she slightly turned away from the camera.

"What do you mean?" asked the reporter.

"The woman Blair attacked – I can't say she didn't deserve it. That bitch got my woman hooked on meth, and then stole her away from me. For all I care, Blair coulda whooped that homewrecking bitch's ass. Point is, Blair Warner would stoop lower than the lowest if she got the chance, man. Her act is just that – an act."

"Thank you for that insight Ms., oh, uh, Tumpy."

"No problem, man."

After the camera stopped rolling, Tumpy approached the reporter and asked, "Hey girl, are you free tonight?"

The reporter was shocked at the woman's blunt attempts.

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The camera flashed to another TMZ reporter who was approaching two women in exquisitely expensive matching attire. The younger woman was holding a Chihuahua that was wearing a corresponding pink doggie top. It was obvious that these women meant business as they both stood with a hand on their hips. Clearly, they wanted to look good for the camera.

"Upon the suggestion of Ms. Tumpy Barksdale, we tracked down Ms. Kathy and Ms. Paris Hilton. Of course, you two lovely ladies don't need any introduction," said the reporter as he addressed the two women.

"Well, thank you, darling," said the older lady as she took her free hand and slid her fingers down his necktie.

"Ahem," said the young reporter as he was clearly uncomfortable. "Ms. Kathy Hilton, how do you know Ms. Warner?"

"Oh, the Hiltons and the Warners go back years. Let's just say that her whole family's wealth is built on the shoulders of others. They are involved in insider trading, tips, and secrets that form the foundation of their wealth. They are ruthless people."

The younger woman then piped in, "And she is sooooo not."

"Not what?" asked the reporter.

"Hot," replied the younger blonde as she giggled and flipped her hair.

"Is there anything else you can say about Ms. Warner or her family legacy? Inquiring minds want to know."

The older lady continued to speak, "Her father David Warner was known for trying to find loopholes so he wouldn't have to pay his taxes and engaging in questionable dealings."

"That's interesting. Ms. Paris Hilton, what can you say about Ms. Warner?"

"Um, I don't wanna cause drama and talk bad about anyone," she said kind of whining as she looked at the older lady.

"It's okay, Paris," encouraged the older woman, "tell the man the truth."

"Well, she's not as fabulous as I am. It's too bad she doesn't have the strong family like I do," said the younger woman as she put her head on the older lady's shoulder. "It just seems he needs to get a grip. I wish her all the best though."

"I'm sorry to say that you guys seem to be avoiding the question," accused the young man.

"Listen, the Warners are notorious for underhanded dealings. It is no surprise that Blair Warner would follow in her family's footsteps. Sure it was a bit of a surprise that she went out and got herself a girlfriend . . ."

The younger girl interrupted, "Do you mean like Nicole Richie?"

"No, dear," the older woman said turning her attention to the younger woman, "I mean her lesbian lover."

"Oh, I love the theater," chirped Paris.

"No, no not thespian, dear," corrected Kathy. "Lesbian."

"Oh, like John Bowab, Asaad Kelad , and Shakira," said Paris.

"No, not Lebanese, dear. Lesbian. Blair has sex with girls."

"Oh," said Paris as she processed the information. "Oh. OH! Eww."

"Sorry about that," said the older lady as she returned her attention to the reporter.

"Oh, that's quite alright, ma'am," replied the reporter with a smile. This was going to be television gold for their show.

"Anyway," Kathy continued, "we were surprised when we found out about Blair's relationship with a woman – a poor cop from the Bronx no less – but we just figured it was for the attention. Blair always liked being in the spotlight. But the truth is, she just didn't have any consideration for anyone. She didn't care how her scandal could affect her family. This just goes to show that she only cares about one person – Blair Warner," said Kathy in an arrogant and snooty matter.

"That is some very good information, Ms. Hilton. Is there anything you'd like to add?" asked the reporter as he turned his attention to Paris.

The younger blonde looked up from a bout with fake sickness and simply responded, "Ewwww."

"There you have it. Thank you women for your time," he said addressing the women who just nodded.

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Finally, yet another reporter was shown approaching a dark-haired girl in a white Chanel skirt and jacket combo who was primping her hair. It was obvious that her hair was dyed to cover up the noticeable gray. "We are now going to interview the woman who recorded the fight between socialite Blair Warner and former drug dealer, Kelly Donovan. Now, I understand that you know Ms. Warner. Could you tell us about your relationship with her?"

The woman turned around and had a huge smile on her face as she waved to the camera and said, "Whammo! Hello, all you wonderful people out there in TV Land."

"Please, forget the cameras are there, Ms. St. Claire," said the reporter.

The interviewee cleared her throat as she tried to compose herself. "I'm terribly sorry," she said as she crinkled her nose and giggled at the camera.

The reporter rolled her eyes, as she continued, "Please, tell the viewing audience who you are."

"I thought you said to ignore the cameras," said the now confused looking interviewee.

The reported sighed in disbelief thinking, "How could someone be such an airhead?" "Miss, just answer the questions, please," said the reporter.

"Well, my name is Boots – Boots St. Claire."

"So, Ms. St. Claire, what is your relationship with Blair Warner?"

"Well, I remember Warnsie from our college days. She was always the risk taker," said Boots in her sickingly sweet voice and her flourish of hand gestures.

"Can you explain what you mean by risk taker?" asked the reporter.

"Well, one time she threatened Heather Hunt for trying to steal her boyfriend. Isn't that a hoot. Of course, that's before she ended up with what's-her-name," said Boots with a dismissive hand.

"Jo Polniaczek."

"Yeah, that female Fonzy wannbe," Boots ended rolling her eyes.

The reporter wanted to laugh right there, but she managed to keep it professional.

"So, you know Ms. Warner to exhibit violent tendencies?" prompted the reported.

"I don't know if I'd say violent per se, but she does have a skitch of a temper." said Boots as she pinched her finger to emphasis on the "skitch."

"Uh, huh. So, this public outburst doesn't surprise you?"

"Warnsie has always been the unpredictable one. Though usually she keeps these things out of the public eye. Oh, well," Boots shrugged. "I guess it goes to show you never know."

"Thanks, Ms. Sinclair, for your time."

"Oh, thank you and ta everybody," she said as she waved to the camera.

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Blair couldn't believe what she had just seen. All these ghosts from her past coming together in a clear attempt to smear her name. Why did they have to kick her while she was down? All Blair wanted was Jo. She couldn't deal with this nonsense right not – not by herself. She needed someone to understand and support her. Yet, she also knew that she needed to check on her status and image. There was only one person she could call. Blair reached for her phone.

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Andy was busy talking to one of his clients, Geri Tyler. Geri had been on a national tour, which is one reason why Blair hadn't asked her to be a bridesmaid at her wedding. Of course, Geri was going to have a prominent place in the wedding. After all, she was Blair's cousin and they had become very close over the years. Blair just assumed that Geri was scheduled to be on tour for a while longer and refused to bother her well-known, celebrity cousin with something as trivial as being a bridesmaid. Besides, Blair was hoping Geri would perform at her wedding, but, in typical Blair fashion, she didn't want to ask too soon. Thanks to Andy, who had both Blair and Geri as his clients, Geri was going to be able to make the wedding with no scheduling conflicts anyway.

"I think you're better off going to that Barnes and Nobles store in Brooklyn, instead of that Borders store in Queens, because Borders is on its way out," suggested Andy as he was discussing business with Geri. "There are no guarantees that they will have the money to pay for your book signings."

"I know, but I'm good friends with the owner of that store, and I promised to make an appearance. Please, I'm willing to take a smaller share, if that's what it takes."

Andy relented, "Alright. But you can't do this for everyone now."

It just so happened that Geri had a scheduled stop in New York, so she decided to swing by her agent, Andy's, house and discuss business. Of course, she had seen the food fight fiasco and thought about contacting Blair while she was in town, but Andy informed her that it was probably not the best time. He had filled Geri in on Blair's erratic behavior and they agreed that she should give her some time before barging in. Blair would let her know when she needed her.

As if on cue, "Ride of the Valkyries" – the famous classical piece from Richard Wagner – began playing from Andy's cell. He knew who was calling him without looking at the name because he used that ringtone for only one person.

"Hello, Blair," Andy answered. "How are you doing?"

"What do you think? Everybody knows about what happened yesterday, and I just saw those interviews by those evil witches!"

"Yeah, we saw them," Andy replied.

"Who? You mean you and Tootie?"

"No, I mean me and your cousin Geri."

"Geri's there?" asked Blair a bit confused.

"Yes, she's there."

"Well, tell her I said hi. I can't really talk to her right now because I'm in a crisis. I need help fast!" yelled Blair hysterically.

"Whoa! Calm down Blair," soothed Andy as he shook his head at Geri.

"Calm down? Calm down! I am calm!" shouted Blair.

"Blair, just take a deep breath. We'll figure this out. Why don't you come over here and we'll discuss it. I've got some business with Geri anyway and maybe between the three of us we can fix this media mess. Okay?" asked Andy as he tried to comfort the raging blonde.

"Fine," agreed Blair.

"Umm, Blair," stated Andy before they could hang up, "you may want to be careful. I know TMZ and everyone else will be after you. You're #1 on the paparazzi's list," Andy warned.

"I know. I do have a disguise," assured Blair.

"Great. Wear it, though it might not help much. Also, use your heavily tinted Range Rover you usually drive to try to keep them from recognizing you."

"Will do," claimed Blair who then hung up her phone.

"Good luck," said Andy as he looked over to Geri.

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In Morningside Heights, Natalie had just seen the TMZ segment and was beginning to worry about Blair's potential reaction. She considered calling Blair and telling her about Jo's location or calling Jo and telling her that all hell was going to hit the fan if she didn't get her butt back to New York. However, she had already made arrangements and she decided, against her better judgment, to stick with the plan.

Natalie went back to doing some research work for Keith Olbermann's next show, when she heard a knock on her door. The reporter looked up and saw that it was a little after 9 am. It had to be Kelly.

"Coming," Nat shouted as she went to the front door. She looked through the peephole and, sure enough, it was Kelly.

What timing, thought Natalie. Kelly had just missed seeing her face plastered all over the television screen. Maybe it was for the best because she needed to be in a clear state of mind for the 2 ½-hour drive that awaited her. However, when Natalie opened the door, she found a seething Kelly who looked as if she was about to blow a major gasket.

"Hi, Kelly," greeted Natalie nervously.

"Don't 'hi' me, girl!" shouted Kelly as she pointed her finger in Natalie's chest. "Why the fuck didn't you and the rest of those bitches tell me about Kimberly last night."

"Wait. What about Kimberly?" asked Natalie with a puzzled look on her face. Kelly wasn't making any sense. Kimberly had nothing to do with the TMZ segment, so the reporter was completely lost.

"Don't play dumb with me," yelled Kelly.

"Hey, I roomed with the greatest actress on the whole east coast, so I know how to play dumb, but I assure you, I don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about."

"Zip it before I stuff your mic right down your throat. You shoula told me about Kim."

"Again, told you what?"

"That's she's a dirty, flaky bi-slut!"

"Actually, she's pansexual. She's –"

"Same goddamn difference! They're both groups of nasty sluts!" shouted Kelly.

Natalie didn't say anything, so Kelly continued her rant.

"You coulda at least warned me about her before I decided to put my heart on the fuckin' line!" yelled Kelly. "I feel like right along with God, you guys played a cruel joke on me."

"What cruel joke? We didn't say anything because we thought you already knew. Besides, it's no big deal?"

"Not a big deal?" she angrily questioned Natalie. "NOT A BIG DEAL!?" she repeated, this time in a much louder tone. "Are you a fuckin' idiot?"

"No, I'm not an idiot. There was great chemistry between you two. I didn't see any problems, and neither did the rest of the gang. You shouldn't let the fact that she likes men get to you," said Natalie.

"Yeah? Well, it does," spat Kelly.

"Why?" To Natalie it was a trivial situation. She couldn't understand why Kelly was so hung up on it.

"Because bisexuals are flakes that will leave you for a man in a minute, and only fuckin' idiots like you can't see that."

Natalie couldn't hold her anger in anymore, so she snapped back. "No, you're the fucking idiot here! Not all bisexuals or pansexuals are like that, and I'm sure Kimberly is not like that. In fact, she had a few long-term lesbian relationships, from what I've heard."

"Bullshit! She's no different than all the other bi-sluts out there."

"And what makes you any different from all those other white-trashy, ex-con, Bronx losers out there, huh? How do you like that type of generalizing? Does it make you feel good?" spat Natalie in a rather unusual angry tone for such a happy-go-lucky woman.

Kelly knew Natalie got her there, and she desperately wanted to give her a good comeback, but she had nothing. So, instead of continuing the argument, Kelly just said, "Tell me where I needa go to find Jo."

Natalie told her the address and Kelly recorded it on her Motorola Flipside. Kelly was surprised how far Jo went. It was nothing new to hear that Jo ran when things got too tough, but she had never run so far away before. Kelly knew that Jo must really be hurting to go so far from home.

"All the way up there?" asked Kelly, still shocked at the distance Jo had traveled. "Man, she really wanted to get away from Blair, huh?"

"Yeah," Natalie replied. She was just as surprised as Kelly was at how far Jo would go to run away from a potential fight with her fiancé.

"There's one problem though," Kelly said suddenly. "I don't have a car. My car's back in Houston."

Natalie had forgotten to take that little detail into consideration.

"Okay," she said shaking her head at her missing a detail, "I'll let you borrow my car."

She got her keys to her Lexus and gave them to Kelly.

"A Lexus? Sweet!" chimed in Kelly.

"Please, be careful with it. I'm still paying it off," said Natalie slightly afraid that Kelly might share Jo's need for speed.

"No problemo," assured Kelly. "I'll take care of it like it was my own." For some reason, that didn't make Natalie feel any better.

"Boy," thought Natalie as she saw Kelly tear down the street, "both Jo and Blair's going to owe me big time for this."

As the reporter was heading back to continue her research, a couple things struck her. First was Kelly's intense reaction to Kimberly's sexuality. Why was it such a big deal? As long as Kim had feelings for Kelly, wasn't that enough? The other thing that struck Natalie was a mark on Kelly's arm. The Bronx native was wearing a T-Shirt and jeans when she came to Natalie's house and the reporter thought she saw a tattoo that looked like it said D-Ball on Kelly's arm. She was going to ask her about it, but the impromptu shouting match diverted her attention and made her forget about it. However, Natalie was not one to give up. She had a few tricks up her sleeve and she was determined to find out what D-Ball referred to, or her name wasn't Natalie Green the Scoop Queen.

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After Blair got into her disguise, she jumped into her Range Rover and drove to Andy and Tootie's place. Just as Andy had predicted, there were camera crews waiting for Blair as she left her garage. On her way to her friends' house, she noticed that two cars were following her. It had never been like this since the 90s, when her relationship with Jo was discovered. Luckily, Blair knew some of the side streets that she could use in an effort to elude the paparazzi. She wasn't going to let them have a repeat performance of the Princess Di incident of '97 if she could help it.

Despite Blair's best efforts, some photographers managed to tail her to Andy and Tootie's house. As soon as she arrived, she quickly parked her car in the garage and headed straight to the elevator, trying to beat the rush of the paparazzi. She was lucky enough to make it before the press could catch her and she began to pound on the door. Andy looked out of the peephole and saw a black-haired woman with glasses standing outside. He wanted to laugh, but he held it in and opened the door. Blair rushed in and Andy slammed the door shut and locked the door.

When she got into the living room, Geri was there, snickering.

"What's so funny, Geri?" asked Blair.

"I didn't know you were trying to be one of the Kardashians," replied Geri as she and Andy began to laugh.

"Yeah, you take Keeping Up with the Kardashian too literal," said Andy as he and Geri continued to laugh,

"Oh, please! I wouldn't make it as one of them because my breast and behind are real," said Blair sarcastically.

"And also, there are no videos of you getting busy in bed with a rapper," joked Andy.

"Thank God no, but there is one of me acting like a complete nutcase in a food court," replied Blair as she tried to broach the real reason she came over.

"Yeah, Lez-splosion!" shouted Andy in jest. Geri was laughing hysterically now.

"Oh, ha, ha. Very funny," deadpanned Blair. Going back to the Kardashians in an effort to get their attention, Blair said, "I don't know them too well, since they spend most of their time on the West Coast, and I can't stand Bruce Jenner. I never thought I would meet a family that were bigger attention hogs than the Hiltons," said Blair as she slyly tried to get them refocused on the TMZ segment.

"Well, I guess they somewhat found their way back to relativity by trashing you," noted Andy with a look of disgust.

"Yeah. Those witches!" shouted Blair with a look of disgust of her own.

"They're witches alright, with broomsticks up their asses," Andy derided. Geri and Blair simply nodded in agreement.

"Well, at least they can still walk straight. I can't even do that," Geri quipped.

"Enough of the jokes you two," admonished Blair. "I got a serious crisis on my hands."

"Like what, your hair?" asked Geri, as she and Andy started to laugh again.

However, Blair wasn't in the laughing mood when she said, "No, something even more tragic – my image!"

Andy stopped laughing and said seriously, "Okay, you're right. You, along with Kelly and Kim, will be the butt of everybody's jokes for a while. Expect to see many late-night TV hosts crack jokes at your expense. I'm going to be honest with you, this isn't going to go away anytime soon."

"Well, what am I supposed to do?" asked a miffed and frustrated Blair as she shrugged her shoulders.

"Blair," Geri said seriously as she placed a reassuring hand on Blair's shoulder, "you'll bounce back from this."

"Geri, people are laughing at me," said the image-conscious Blair.

"Hey, that's how I make my living."

"But this will ruin me," Blair replied. Next to either her or Jo dying, her reputation being tarnished was what she feared the most.

"As your PR manager, I'll do everything I can so it doesn't ruin you, Blair," piped in Andy. "I'll have stories of your charitable work plastered all over newspapers and TV. I'll have you do interviews on shows like 20/20 and Oprah that will show people the real you. I will make sure that we can minimize the damage this incident has caused."

"How about you make an appearance on Tootie's show?" asked Geri.

Andy shook his head and said, "No. That would be considered a conflict of interest, since everybody got the information that Tootie is Blair's friend and maid of honor. It would hurt more than help the both of them."

"You don't understand. This is tearing me apart," Blair whined.

Geri continued with her hand on Blair's shoulder, "Cuz, you are Blair Warner. You'll come out of this on top – right where you belong."

"But this would be so much easier if Jo was here," said a distraught Blair with her head in her hands.

Geri shared some words of advice to Blair. "Blair, you can do this, with or without Jo. You gotta stand on your own two feet, take responsibility for your actions, and move on. Don't give it more attention than it deserves."

Blair smiled, for she finally got some much needed advice. "You're right, Geri. Thanks."

"No problem, Blair," Geri smiled back.

Blair then said "But I still wish that Jo was here with me. I bet you would feel that way if Yvonne ran away and didn't tell you where she was going."

"Actually, I'd have a party," joked Geri. Andy chuckled and Blair shook her head.

"Seriously, Geri. Jo's more like family to me than my own family. Besides you, Bailey, Sister Meg, mom, and dad, no one on either side supports my relationship with Jo."

"Join the club, Blair. Nobody in the Warner family, besides your dad, supports my relationship with Yvonne either. But back to the main subject. Jo still loves you, but she can't keep on dealing with your whimsical decisions."

"Think about it, Blair," chipped in Andy. "See the situation through her eyes. She constantly has to change her schedule and her whole life for you. That's not fair to Jo."

"Yeah, you're right. It's not fair to her. How come I didn't see this before?" asked Blair dejectedly.

"Because you're Blair Warner," Andy deadpanned. Blair gave him an icy cold look.

Geri stepped in to break the tension. "What he's trying to say is that sometimes you get in the way of yourself. It's not just Jo, but everybody. You need to take into consideration other people's time and resources before you go making all these spur of the moment plans."

"Yeah, ditto on what Geri said. It's not only Jo that you've done this to," Andy added.

"Don't forget you two are a couple. You know Yvonne and I have to talk things out together before we make any big decisions that would impact our lives," Geri noted.

"That's another thing. Jo keeps running away, so it can be hard to talk about things sometimes," said Blair.

"That's something you need to address with Jo. Tootie and I have seen this many times before from Jo," recalled Andy. "See, you two have things that needs to be discussed before you tie the knot. It's the only way you two will ever succeed as a couple."

"Yeah, Jo needs weights on her ankles and you need to wait for others to decide things," said Geri.

Blair let it sink in for a minute before she spoke. "Yeah, you two are right. Thanks." Blair waited a couple minutes before speaking again. After what Andy and Geri had just told her, she was afraid to spring this on her cousin out of the blue. However, she figured it was better to ask now instead of waiting much longer. "Ummm, Geri."

"Yeah, cuz?" asked Geri.

"I know I'm springing this on you, but will you be my MC at my wedding reception and maybe perform a little."

Geri looked at her sternly before answering, "Sure I will, Blair. I'd be honored."

"Thanks," said Blair as she hugged her cousin.

Unfortunately, the tender moment was disrupted a few seconds later when Blair's phone began to ring. She looked at the screen and saw that it was Natalie calling. Thinking that her friend might have heard something about Jo, she immediately answered her phone.

"Hey, Nat. Any news about Jo?" asked Blair in a tone of desperation.

Natalie began to lie on the phone "No... But I do have a question to ask you."

"Okay. What is it?"

"Do you know anything about D-Ball?"

Blair dropped the phone the moment she heard the word "D-Ball." Thankfully, her phone fell on the carpet.

Andy and Geri quickly looked up at her. "Is something's wrong?" asked Andy.

While still on the phone, Nat was calling Blair's name.

"Blair? Blair? Are you still there?"

Blair picked up her phone and replied, "Sorry, Nat? What were you asking me again?"

"D-Ball. I saw it on one of Kelly's arms the other day. I've been wondering about it ever since and, since I can't ask Jo because she's not around, I thought maybe you might know."

"Yeah, I know what D-Ball means," snapped Blair.

Natalie was relieved on her end because she had been trying to figure it out ever since Kelly left her house, but to no avail. "Oh good. So, what does it mean?"

"It's the 'street name' for Dina Becker," Blair said in an angry tone.

Natalie was puzzled and shocked at the same time. "What would someone like Dina Becker be doing with a street name?"

"What do you think? Besides charity work and occasional PR appearances, there would only be one other reason why a rich person would visit the slums."

Natalie thought about it for a bit, and then it hit her. A long time ago, Blair had mentioned that her former friend from Manhattan, Dina Becker, was sent to rehab for her extreme meth addiction.

"To buy drugs!" shouted Natalie as the realization hit her.

"Yes," replied Blair in a spiteful tone.

"So that means… Oh, my God. Kelly was Dina's dealer!" said a totally shocked Natalie.

"You got that right! Kelly ruined Dina's life! Now you know why I'm so upset with her."

"Okay, but enough to go berserk on her and risk your reputation?" asked Natalie.

"Heck, yeah! After everything she did to Dina? Absolutely!"

"What do you mean, 'everything,' Blair? I don't understand. You mean there's more than just the drugs?"

"Yeah, there's more, Natalie. Much more. Kelly screwed Dina in more ways than one!"

"How so, Blair?"

Then after a short pause, Blair shouted, "Kelly and Dina were also bedroom buddies."

"You mean . . ." started Natalie in shock.

"YES! KELLY WAS FUCKING DINA! KELLY IS A SLIMY, MANIPULATIVE, FUCKING BITCH!" yelled Blair at the top of her lungs.

Natalie, Andy, and Geri were shocked to hear Blair curse. No one could recall ever hearing Blair curse.

Blair was also shocked, for she hadn't cursed since the time Jo punched her in the face back in their Eastland days.

"I'm so sorry... I didn't mean to say that. Please, forgive me," begged Blair.

"Why all the animosity, Blair?" Andy asked.

"I just don't get it. Why would Jo continue to help her? Why would Jo take Kelly's side over mine after everything?"

"Blair, they were friends. Just like you and Dina. She wanted to remain loyal to a point, just like you tried with Dina," Natalie informed her friend.

"But Kelly ruined Dina's life," said a remorseful Blair. At that point, she was close to tears.

"No. Dina made a choice, Blair," said Natalie. "Just like you stand by Jo, just like Jo stands by you."

"But why did she have to choose MY friend?" asked Blair through her tears.

"Sounds like circumstances to me. But the fact is that no one knows, except for Dina and Kelly. However, you can't hold that over Jo," said Natalie.

"But she chose Kelly's side," reasoned Blair.

"No she didn't, Blair. She chose you. Jo would do anything for you, but you have to learn to agree to disagree and let the little things slide because, if you don't, you run the risk of losing Jo forever."

"This isn't a little thing, Natalie. Getting someone hooked on meth and destroying her life is not on the same level as using up someone's shampoo," said Blair in a more angry tone.

"True, but you have gotten on Jo's case for some of the most trivial things imaginable. Remember, I was your and Jo's roommate for nearly a decade."

Blair thought about Natalie's words of wisdom. As much as she despised Kelly, she couldn't keep making Jo choose between her and the rest of the world. Beside, at the end of the day, it was always Blair's arms that Jo came back to. Blair began to break down.

"Nat, what have I done?" cried Blair. "I need to get Jo back and tell her I get it now."

"Blair, don't worry. I'm sure Jo is getting just as homesick for you as you are for her. I have a reporter's hunch that she'll be back before you know it."

If there was one thing that Blair learned to pay attention to over the years, it was Natalie's hunches.

"Thanks, Nat! Thank you so much," squealed Blair with a sense of renewed hope.

They hung up and Natalie just sighed. I just hope Kelly comes through.

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Jo had been thinking a lot about Blair, too. Just because she was the one who had walked out, it didn't make the distance any easier. The nights were lonely and Jo missed her pampered princess, as annoying as she was sometimes. Yet, Jo knew she had to teach Blair a lesson and prove to her that she couldn't always get everything she wanted. It just stunk that it caused her so much pain as well. So, when she heard the knock on her hotel room door, she was hoping to find Blair standing there. Jo wiped any remnants of tears from her face because she didn't want Blair to see her in moment of weakness, though it didn't made much of a difference – everybody knew that Jo cries a lot. The brunette was aware that with Blair's resources and Natalie's know how coupled with Kelly's inside knowledge – if she and Blair could ever see eye-to-eye – Jo could easily be found.

Jo walked to the door and opened it to find, not a beautiful blonde, but an exotic Asian with dark hair.

"Hello, Jo," said the woman as she pushed her way into the room.

"M . . . M . . . Miko? What are ya doin' here?"

"Oh, I'm here for you. Cozy little place you got here."

"How'd ya find me?"

Miko looked at Jo with a smirk, followed by a huff. "Come on, Jo, it doesn't take a genius to know that you'd register under your alias – Jinny Exstead."

During Jo and Blair's brief separation, Jo and Miko had gone to a restaurant in Greenwich Village. Jo made a reservation under her alias, so Blair wouldn't know that she went out with Miko. The blonde never really liked Miko, ever since she came to Eastland as an exchange student. Her bond with Jo seemed stronger than Blair wanted to admit, so her jealously followed her to their adult years, even right up to the point at Jo's 40th birthday party, when Blair was considering kicking Miko out, but that would upset Jo too much. So, when they separated and Miko asked Jo on a date, the Bronx native agreed, only if she could keep it hidden from Blair. Thus, the alias would avoid any paper trail or evidence that Jo went out with the girl who once idolized her.

"But, but, but . . ."

"Seriously. Once I saw on TMZ that the fiancé to the heiress of the Warner throne was missing, I just started searching for activity under that name. You should have known by now that I'd find you."

Miko started getting really seductive and even came up to Jo and pulled out her shirt collar.

"I will always be able to track you down," she whispered in Jo's ear. "Because you belong to me."

Jo backed away from Miko as she asked, "Do you want somethin' to drink? Beer? Coke? Water?"

"Jo, I want you."

Music started coming from Miko's phone as she walked behind Jo and but her arms around Jo's waist. She pulled Jo into her as she whispered, "I love you, Jo. I can make you happy." Then, she started kissing on Jo's neck.

At first, Jo just kind of leaned her head back and moved it from side to side as Miko ravished her neck. She then tried to pull away. "Miko, this isn't right," said Jo as she tried to walk out of Miko's grasp. However, Miko just kept hold and pulled Jo back into her.

"Oh, it's right for me, Jo. Jo, I don't think you understand. I will not take no for an answer. I know you want me, too," she whispered in Jo's ear. Suddenly, Jo felt Miko's hand slip under her shirt and start scratching along her skin – leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.

A deep groan resonated from Jo's throat as she almost melted. Seemingly, she had no control over the sensations she was feeling. No one but Blair had ever made her feel this way – until now.

"Miko, please, stop."

It was clear that Jo missed the physical contact of a beautiful woman, but she didn't want to betray Blair. However, her resolve slowly started to fade as Miko continued lavishing her with kisses and rubbing her hands up and down Jo's torso and back. If the truth be told, it was driving Jo wild. Miko took advantage of her apparent control and led Jo to the bed. In an instant, Miko started kissing on Jo's neck and unbuttoning Jo's top.

"M . . .M . . . Miko, p . . .p . . . please, stop," stammered Jo.

Yet, Miko continued kissing Jo as she straddled the detective's lap. Suddenly, "Hold Me," from Whitney Houston and Teddy Pendergrass, began to play and Jo couldn't stop herself. She began kissing Miko passionately as she started to relive her first time with Blair in her mind. As things were just heating up, Jo saw a flash reflected in the mirror. Then, the words she uttered at her 40th birthday party came rushing back, — "I will consider this as a symbol of our union, and that I am yours fo'evah." Then another flashback came, as the Kool and the Gang song "Stone Love" began to play - "No need, Princess. I am yours, forever."

"I'm sorry, Miko, I can't," said Jo as she tried pushing away from Miko.

"Why, Jo?"

"I'm committed," answered Jo as she tried to move away from the persistent Asian.

"You should be if you'd choose that bleach blonde over me. She doesn't love you like I do – like I could," replied a frustrated Miko as she kissed Jo's neck.

Jo just leaned away. "I love Blair, Miko. I always have. She's the only one for me. She's the only one who loves me in a special way that no one else can. Believe it or not, she can bring passion out of me that no one in the universe can, not even you."

This struck a chord in Miko and she was no longer willing to play nice. She forcefully pushed Jo back onto the bed and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. In one swift movement, she locked Jo in the cuffs. The headboard was made of iron bars, so Miko had put one cuff on one of Jo's wrists, slipped it around a couple bars, and locked the other cuff. Thus, Jo was stuck. It all happened so fast, that Jo was still in a state of shock as Miko straddled her. The next thing Miko did really upset Jo and snapped her out of her stupor. Miko had taken the ring that never left Jo's finger off and flung it across the room.

"Miko, let me up right now," yelled Jo struggling to get free.

"I told you I wouldn't take no for an answer," replied Miko as she ripped Jo's button-up shirt open. Although she continued to struggle against her restraints, Miko started kissing Jo's exposed torso.

"Miko, stop it!"

Miko just ignored Jo and continued her oral assault. The Japanese vamp had her prey trapped. Soon she reached for Jo's pants and undid the belt. Jo was thrashing as best she could under Miko's weight, but she couldn't do anything to stop the aggressor. The great Jo Polniaczek – former gang member and tough-as-nails detective – was rendered helpless.

"It's time for me to taste your sweet nectar," said Miko, while licking her lips. She then slid her hand down into Jo's pants, right between her legs.

As Miko finished undoing Jo's belt and was preparing to get rid of her pants, there was a knock at the door.

"Hey, Joey, are ya in there? It's me, Kel!"

"Go away. Jo's not here," replied Miko as she continued to fumble with Jo's pants.

"Help me!" screamed Jo in desperation.

"Then what was that?" asked Kelly.

"That was the TV. Now, bug off!"

"Help, me Kelly!" yelled Jo.

Miko quickly got her duct tape that she had brought with her. Apparently, she was prepared for rejection.

Jo's eyes got as big as saucers as she screamed out a final "HELP!" as Miko tapped her mouth shut.

"No one's going to save you now, not even that stupid meth-head friend of yours. That is Kelly, right?"

Kelly couldn't open the door. She tried ramming it with her shoulder and kicking it with her feet, but this was a strong door that refused to give. Kelly had no idea what was going on behind that closed door, but if Jo was yelling for help in that tone, Kelly knew it was serious. She could recall only a couple occasions when Jo ever asked for help – and none of them sounded as desperate as Jo sounded right now. She had to get in there. Suddenly, Kelly had a "brilliant idea."

Kelly waited a few minutes and then knocked on the door again.

"I said go away! Can't you see the Do Not Disturb sign?"

"Excoos me! I need to kleen dee room! There is no sign, Senorita!" Kelly said in a funny Spanish accent.

Miko, having had enough of the distractions, opened the door and was about to say, "Didn't I say..." when Kelly kicked her in the stomach, then struck her in the face. Miko went down in a heap as she grabbed her cheek and Kelly pushed past her. She couldn't believe her eyes. Jo was lying handcuffed to the bed with her shirt open and her belt hanging loose. She was desperately struggling against her restraints. Kelly rushed to her friend's side and ripped the tape from Jo's mouth.

"What'd that cheap, foreign floozy do ta ya?"

"What's it look like? No, . . . don't answer that. Just get me outta here," Jo pleaded.

"Um, where's the key?"

"I don't know. Just get me outta here," begged Jo as she struggled against her cuffs.

"I can't get ya out without the key."

At that point Miko rose with a devilish smile. "There isn't a key. Good luck," and she was out the door.

"Get me outta here," pleaded Jo with a hint of fear in her eyes.

"Okay, okay. I got the skeleton key." Kelly pulled out a key pick similar to those they used to use when breaking into places. "Always comes in handy." In a minute, the cuffs were opened.

As soon as she got uncuffed, Jo quickly went outside to find Miko.

"Oh shit! She's gone!" Jo cussed.

"Not without her bike." Kelly smiled, as she held up Miko's keys.

Jo shook her head in disbelief, and then smiled. "I'm a cop and I should do something with you. Assault, picking a lock, and theft."

But Kelly's simple response was "Yeah, but then the cop would have to admit to being handcuffed and restrained by a crazy Asian."

"Point taken."

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When Miko got to her bike, she realized that her keys were gone. She cursed out in Japanese, as she began looking for her keys.

Finally, Jo and Kelly arrived at the outside parking lot. Miko spotted them and got off her bike. As soon as they started to approach her, Miko went into a karate stance.

Kelly said to Jo, "You didn't tell me she's a black belt bitch?"

"Hey, I didn't know!"

"Well, at least she ain't no 'Killer Kung-fu Wolf Bitch,'" said Kelly trying to lighten the mood.

Jo looked at her as if she was crazy. "Where did you get that from?"

"Oh, from The Boondocks. It's one of my favorite shows!"

As they were approaching an angry and defensive Miko. Jo asked Kelly, "So, how's your life and dental insurance, Kel?"

"Pretty crappy, why?"

"Well, expect to pay high premiums after this."

Jo and Kelly then prepared for the big showdown with the Black Belt Bitch.