Even Carlos noticed that Danae and Vivian did not get along, and he was usually oblivious to everything when he was trying to court a woman. He shared Trent's theory that the two women had met before, though he couldn't begin to speculate how. In any case, Carlos decided to move Vivian and himself to a more private table, leaving Trent, Kim, and Danae to amuse themselves at a booth. Trent only half-listened as Kim and Danae chatted and laughed easily.

"I can't imagine what you must be going through," Kim said at one point.

Danae looked down at her hands. "It's funny what love does to a person," she said finally. "It's a powerful tool for denial." Kim nodded as if she knew exactly what Danae was saying, which piqued Trent's interest. He was about to pursue the subject when Carlos came back.

"Ditched already?" Trent asked with a straight face.

"I'll have you know I'm taking her our again!" Carlos sniffed pridefully. "Scoot over," he sat next to Danae. "So what do you think of her?"

"Pretty," Kim said.

"Smart," Trent added.

Carlos looked at Danae expectantly. "Uh…" she looked to Kim and Trent for help. "Opinionated?" was the most diplomatic she could manage.

Carlos was about to inform Danae about how wrong she was (and sneakily probe to see if she and Vivian knew each other somehow) when he noticed a funny look on Trent's face. "Carlos?" Carlos looked up, spotting the glittering red dot of a laser scope inching its way down the wall toward them. Carlos calmly put his arm behind Danae's shoulders, which startled her visibly.

"Be cool," he said. He gave a wink to Trent, who fluidly upturned the table, and Carlos shoved Danae behind it, crouching beside her. He felt the zing of a bullet slide by him accompanied by the sound of breaking glass.

"What the devil are you doing?" Butch yelled from the bar. Trent peeked out from behind the table to shout at Butch to get down. Two more shots came in through the window and imbedded in the walls just above the upset table.

By this time, patrons were beginning to panic. Butch's voice roared over the din, asking for calm and silence. They may not have felt calm, but they did quiet down. Within minutes, the wail of police sirens filled the night, and Butch was busy trying to talk to his customers.

Shoving Danae down suddenly had reopened her wound, and soon her bandage was soaked with blood. The stitches still held, though, and she managed to convince the paramedics to re-bandage the shoulder without taking her to the hospital again.

Except for three bullet holes and two broken windows, Uppercuts was undamaged. Butch's customers were a loyal bunch, and even if they weren't, everyone in Dallas owed him a favor. His bar wouldn't suffer too much.

"You hate hospitals, too?" Carlos asked Danae as he drove them back to his apartment.

"I just don't want to put up with your pretty girlfriend," she replied tiredly.

"She's not that bad once you get to know her," he said. "She's just a doctor." Danae cocked an eyebrow but said nothing.

"I used to be a doctor, you know," she said after a while.

"What happened?"

"Roger." They fell silent again. Carlos could stand to be patient while she decided how much she wanted to tell. "Have you ever been married, Carlos?" she asked finally.

"Almost, once. It was years ago."

"What happened?" she prodded.

"I was a senior in high school, and I was so in love with her. Mama hated her, of course, didn't think she was good for me, but I would have died for Cristina. I had our lives all planned out: after I graduated, I'd get some work to support us, either driving or as a mechanic or something, and we'd get married…"

"In high school?"

Carlos' laugh was sad and fond at the same time. "At the time it didn't seem so young. But then I found out she was having another guy's child and they were getting married as soon as graduation ceremony was over. Seriously, that afternoon!"

"Ouch. When did you find all this out?"

"Finals," he laughed again.

"And you became a detective instead of a mechanic," she said with finality.

"A cop. The PI thing is a recent lifestyle change."

"Either way, you completely switched job choices after she left you. It happens."

"Ah." Carlos thought for a minute. "You know, you could have just said that you were trying to disappear from the life you had with him and become someone else."

"I'm not trying to become someone else," she returned hotly.

Carlos shrugged. "You've changed your appearance since leaving Indiana. You're definitely running from it, whether you see it or not."

Danae pouted for the rest of the ride.

Kim was hanging up photos she had printed off from Carlos' phone on the case board. The pictures weren't the best quality, but they suited her purposes. Underneath and beside the shots, she had written the person's name and any interesting information she could dig up on the Internet and assorted illegal cracks into private databases. Some of it was quite juicy. Rich people could afford some truly raunchy secrets.

Trent came into the office, then, looking tired. Kim handed a mug of coffee and leaned against the desk next to him. She waited for him to talk.

"You know, Kim, I'm impressed," he said finally.

"Thanks Trent," she smiled shyly.

"Wait, who's that?" Trent pointed to a man in the background of a group picture. He tapped the board impatiently while Kim flipped through some notes she'd taken.

"Umm…" A few seconds ago Trent was asleep on his feet, and now he was wide awake. What was so important about this guy in the picture? "Ira Temp. He's the Thompson's body guard."

"Why isn't his name up here?"

"I didn't think he was important," Kim said.

"I need to know everything about him before lunch," Trent circled Ira's face with a permanent marker.

"Why?"

Trent shook his head. "I don't know."

"Trivette, it's Kim. I need a favor." Kim had to resort to pleading over hacking for information on Ira Temp, although she liked to think that she was responsible for the new encryption protecting the Texas Ranger's database. Given enough time, she could probably get through it, but this was faster. And Trent had said "before lunch."

"Uh-oh."

"I'll make it worth your time," she replied.

"You really think my morals can be bought?" He sounded offended.

"You know that dance company your lady wanted to see?" she asked. "I've got tickets."

Trivette groaned.

"What's funny is that they came with courtside tickets to this weekend's basketball game."

"What do you want?" he asked. From the tone of his voice, it sounded like she could have asked for his firstborn child and he would have considered the trade.

"Any and all information you have on a man named Ira Temp."

"Are you serious?" Trivette laughed. Kim assured him that she was. "Then I think you should know that the FBI came by here today asking about him, too."

"That makes me nervous."

"Yeah, especially since there may be a connection between him and the radical terrorist group that's been acting up in the Dallas area recently."

"Any chance I can get info on that, too?"

"I'll do what I can. Kim, a lot of this is classified," Trivette said.

"Anything you can get is fine, Jimmy. Thanks a bunch." Kim hung up and frowned. This was getting too complicated.

Trent shook his head as Kim gave him a brief synopsis of everything Ranger Trivette had sent over. "This is heavy. Get Senator Thompson over here; we need to find out how much of this he knows."

"Trent there's one more thing that Trivette put in at the last minute," Kim said. "The Feds are all over Ira. Specifically, they sent in an…" she looked at Trivette's notes, "Agent Jonas. Trivette said you knew him and would not want to risk blowing his cover."

"Agent Jonas? I don't know an Agent Jonas do I?" Something buzzed at the back of his head again. What had Danae said? The mind would talk to him if he just listened… "Show me the note." Kim held up the back of the dossier she had compiled, where there was a short note in Trivette's brief hand. "Jones, not Jonas," he said, closing his eyes. "It's Margo."

"Trent, I gotta ask you something difficult. I need you to tell me if there is anything going on between you and Margo."

"Maybe? I wish I could answer you better than that," he said.

"Think this is coincidence?"

Trent sighed. "Not a chance."