A/N: I think I have some explaining to do with my disappearance in writing. It's good news, don't worry—I got a job! WOO HOO! Yep—I did, but that also means the story will be written super slowly—I'm not like Gracie who can actually write on the computer at work ;) Not that she does that at all.

So, bear with me as I figure out when I get a chance to write and post—believe me, I do figure out these scenes on the drive home from work—I'm just so tired of being on the computer when I get home I don't want to write it out, so it stays in my head until I'm ready to write.

Livvie712, the story is in December 2002—I keep forgetting to say that.

Dodgebart—as for your question, yeah—something like that. ;)

Until next time—ya'll are the best!—PCGirl.

"Excuse me?" asked Caleb as he stared back at Livvie.

"Are you deaf? I asked who are you," she snapped.

He decided not to argue with the fact that that wasn't what she said and just smiled, taking her hand and kissing it, "I'm Caleb Morley—and you are?"

"Livvie Locke," she said, struggling to get her hand out of his. "What are you doing here?"

"Livvie," said Alison calmly while placing a hand on her shoulder. "He chased after the robber and saw his license plate before he took off. What are you doing here?"

"Lucy called—she thought you might want me here for support during questioning."

"Thanks," she smiled as they took a seat. "So do you want my statement, Officer Kovich, or are you just going to interrogate an innocent man?"

"Sorry. Let's start this over—what time did the perpetrator enter your building?"

"About 7:15 this morning—I was in the back preparing to bake when I heard the bell ring on the door to tell me someone had entered. I came in and that's when he pulled a gun on me—I went along with what he asked for and then he ran. That's when Mr. Morley—I mean Caleb—came to the door, being pushed by the man and then ran after him."

"Ok, now I need to know—if you and Mr. Morley have ever met previously to today."

"Excuse me, but what does this have to do with anything?" questioned Caleb.

"It's just a simple question—do you have a problem with the question sir?"

"I don't know if he does, but I do," snapped Livvie as she got up in his face. "You are treating my friend like a criminal and this man here as if he's an accomplice to the crime. Now do you have the license plate number?" she asked as Rafe shook his head.

"It was a New York plate, AWC381. Here's my business card—you need anything else call me," said Caleb as he walked out.

"There—and now if you don't mind us—I'm going to help my friend close shop for the day. If anything comes up I can trust you to call us."

"Uhm—yeah," said a confused Rafe as he turned and left.

"I'm thinking of just getting a salad today," said Alison as she sat down in a seat at the Recovery Room. "What about you Livvie?"

"You are unbelievable," she said in a hushed tone. "So far today you've been robbed and questioned by an out of line police officer and all you are thinking of is what to have for lunch?"

"Will you keep your voice down?" she said through gritted teeth. "Besides—what was that look for earlier."

"What look?"

"The one you gave that Caleb guy—I've seen that look on you once before Livvie—did you?"

"NO!" she yelled and noticed people glancing her way. "I—that was a one time thing when everything was so stressful. I told you I wouldn't do that to him again and I won't and I haven't. How can you have so little faith in me, Alison?"

"I'm sorry—it was wrong. It was just you acted like you've seen him before."

"Well, I didn't and I haven't. So when are you going to tell Jamal?"

"I'm not—there's already enough strain on the relationship."

"But this—this might help you get back on solid ground, Ali. You just can't not tell him."

"Yes I can, and if you tell him I'm taking back your Christmas present and buying you a bag of coal instead."

"Ok, fine—no mystery men or current men in general will be discussed at lunch," she laughed.

Alison walked into the apartment and saw the message light flashing. She and Livvie had ended up going shopping to get their mind off the morning's dealings so maybe some news had come from the robbery she thought as she hit the button.

Jamal, it's me—Valerie. I'm sure you don't really care but the Hartman's called—Hope had a checkup yesterday and everything was fine. Just thought some part of you might care how your daughter was doing.

She rolled her eyes—Jamal wouldn't admit it, but the cracks in their relationship started with her last year—when she just randomly showed up out of the blue saying that Jamal was the father. Alison still thanked whoever it was that after that made him find out about Gabby being his sister—little Hope would have never had a fighting chance if she hadn't received Gabby's kidney. But now—now Valerie felt it was her mission to call Jamal and give him updates about Hope. That wasn't the part that bothered Alison—what bothered her was the guilt trip Valerie would give it Jamal happened to be home.

"Not this time, Valerie," she said as she hit the erase button and went to put away her packages before making something up for dinner.

You—that's what she'd said to the stranger. Not who was he or what was he doing there, but just You. What did she mean by that? These were the thoughts Livvie had as she pulled her car up to the small little white house near the river that her and Jack were renting and had been in for a year—except for that month last summer when she'd stayed at the Lighthouse with her Dad and Lucy.

She shook off those thoughts also as she took out her packages. It was in the past and she knew who and where she belonged—and that was here with Jack. Who just magically falls for someone they've met once? Nobody—because love isn't magic—it's gradual, and you learn to take and love the person as a whole—not just the good parts or just the bad parts.

The front door opened as she tried to mess with her key and she smiled up at Jack, "Hi," she said, reaching up and giving him a kiss.

"Hi—what's all this?"

"I went shopping with Ali—she had a bad morning and needed to get away from everything."

"Jamal didn't say they had a fight or anything," he said as he tried to grab a bag and she snatched it back from him.

"Nuh uh—this one is off limits, Jack Ramsey," she laughed. "This had nothing to do with Jamal—it was something with the Bakery."

"Is she ok?"

"Yeah—she just, uh, had a scare."

"A scare?"

She sighed loudly, "She was robbed. But it's ok—they recovered the money. But she doesn't want to tell Jamal, so if you do I'll toss this present in the fire."

Jack smiled at her, "Yes, ma'am."