A/N: okay, my muse would not shut up until I wrote this chapter. Now, it's almost 2:30 in the morning. I am going to bed but please, please don't forget to R and R! Many thanks!

Chapter 11

"Hey guys, mind if I join you?" came Randi's voice.

Mac, Stella, Danny, Lindsey, Sheldon, and Flack were all at Sullivan's, taking a break from their caseloads. It had been a few days since Catherine had showed up at the NYPD and Randi had since then finished her work there.

Mac had not taken to Catherine at all, especially when she had hit on him pretty heavily the next day. She had even suggested that, of the two available Wilcox women, she might be the better choice compared to her "rather, how shall we say, eccentric" sister. Mac had politely but coldly turned her down.

Then Catherine had tried the same thing with Danny, Sheldon, and Flack and gotten the same result. However, it was Danny who had really managed to anger her and had caused Randi to spend the next few minutes giggling like crazy.

Very bluntly, in typical Danny-fashion, Danny had said, "Oh, I'll consider tangling with you but on one condition."

"And that is?" Catherine asked seductively, flashing him her cleavage.

"You dance stark naked on top of the Empire Building in a forty below snow storm."

"Not likely to happen," she had spat out.

"Same here, because I'd rather screw a corpse than deal with you. At least a corpse would have a bit more life." And with that, he had sauntered off, leaving a spluttering Catherine.

Neither Stella nor Lindsey had taken to Catherine either, having seen right through her "charming" personality and both had quietly wondered just how Randi could be related to the woman when the two sisters were clearly completely opposite in personality and clothing type.

Now Mac scooted over and made room for Randi. Today she wore a black Collin Raye t-shirt, embroidered low-rise jeans, red ankle boots, cowboy hat, and a denim duster.

"You doing okay?" Mac asked as she sat down with a groan.

"No, I'm busy hiding from Cathy. I had almost forgotten just how much she could bitch," Randi replied. The waitress came over and Randi ordered a Bud, sans glass. When it came, she neatly popped the tab and took a healthy swallow.

"You trying to get drunk?" Flack asked, watching in amazement.

"No, actually, I'm not. This is nothing to get worried about," Randi said, setting her beer down. "When I hit the vodka, then it's time to get nervous."

"What's your poison?" Lindsey asked, curious.

"A drink called Godmother," Randi said.

"Never heard of it," Sheldon said.

"Ever heard of one called Godfather?" Randi asked.

"I have. It's Amaretto and scotch on ice," Flack said.

"Right. Well Godmother is the softer version and uses vodka instead of scotch. Still packs a hell of a whoalop," Randi explained. "If I'm really trying to get drunk, which I haven't done in a long time, I can go through several glasses in about five minutes. That's when you know there's a problem."

"Ouch," Stella said, wincing.

"But I'm not there yet, trust me. After I finish this, I've got a few more places to hit before I'm done for the day, including swinging by a dress shop to pick up my dress for the Fabré ball, which is in two days, and find a pair of Cinderella shoes for the dress," Randi said.

"I thought you hated those things," Mac commented.

"I do, oh how I do, but my parents are going to be there and Mom basically threatened to crucify me if I didn't show up as a member of the Wilcox family," Randi said. "Unfortunately, Stewie and Cathy are going to be there as well. Imagine just how much fun that's going to be, especially since I've managed to seriously piss off Stewie recently, not that I give a damn, but put him and Cathy in the same room together…."

Everyone winced.

Several nights later, Mac was working late. He knew it was the night of the Fabré ball and Randi had quietly admitted to him that she wished he was going with her, if only to have one dance with him and maybe stop her from killing Catherine and Stewart. He had smiled and said something about next time. She had assured him that, come hell or high water, there would be a next time. Privately though, he wished he was with her. He wondered what she looked like in her dress and decided that, no matter what, she probably looked beautiful.

Someone knocked on his door and he looked up from his musings. His jaw dropped open. Standing before him was a vision of beauty in the form of Randi Wilcox.

She wore an organza, ankle-length dress of dark purple with a full A-line skirt. A pleated overskirt in matching fabric went over the skirt but under the over-corset. The corset had a deep "v" neck and back, firm cups decorated with black lace, dark green fabric "leaves" and soft purple "roses". The back of the corset was laced up with black lace and had a modesty panel. Attached to the corset were off-the-shoulder split angel sleeves in dark purple organza and trailed down to her elbows. On her feet were clear three-inch "Cinderella" heel pumps and she had a matching dark purple satchel.

Randi's hair was piled on top of her head in a twist that allowed tendrils of her hair to curl around her face. Sparkling cubic zirconium earrings dangled from her ears and a matching necklace drew attention to her slender neck. Her make-up had been perfectly done to draw attention to her already lovely features, making her appear even more beautiful, if such a thing was possible.

"Hi," she said, smiling shyly.

"Hi," he said, standing up as he stared at her. "Aren't you supposed to be at the ball?"

"Umm, yeah, I'm heading that way but Stella and Lindsey said they had something for me and they said they left it with you," Randi said, coming closer.

Mac quickly found the little box the two CSI's had left, mentioning that Randi would probably be by for it later. He hadn't realized that later meant later that night. He picked it up, went around the desk and handed it to her, still unable to take his eyes off of her. Smiling shyly, she opened the box and gasped in wonder. Inside was a small tiara made from cubic zirconium crystals, a tiara fit for a princess or, in this case, for Randi.

"Will you help me?" she asked as she lifted the gift from the box.

Mac took the tiara and carefully placed it on Randi's head, catching a whiff of her perfume, something that was sexy yet soft, just like Randi.

"You look beautiful," he said.

She smiled and ducked her head, blushing. Then he smiled impishly and went over to his sound system. It was primarily used for listening to any recordings his CSIs brought him, but this time he knew he had a waltz on a CD somewhere. Sure enough, he found it and quickly popped it in. Within seconds, Sweet Memory Waltz with Vince Gill and Byron Berline filled the room. Watching as Randi's face lit up, he went up to her and assumed a perfect formal soldier stance before offering his hand.

"May I have this dance, my lady?" he asked.

Her smile became soft and misty as she placed her hand in his and said softly, "You may, my lord."

His hand went to her hip and her hand to his shoulder and together, they waltzed around the office in time to the music, obvious to the world.

For Randi, it was the most magical dance she'd ever known, as well as the most special. Mac Taylor, good-looking dedicated cop and CSI, former Marine, scientist at heart, mean SOB when he'd been crossed, had quietly wormed his way in to her heart. She hadn't been too sure about him at first, wondering if he ever smiled when she first saw him at the café all those weeks ago, but now she knew he did. He also had a really nice, easy laugh. He had accepted her for all her odd quirks, even Fabio and their little mishaps, and treated her as an equal but made her feel like a woman, especially when he held her at night the way he had the last time she'd slept in his arms. That was the other thing that had drawn her to him; he hadn't tried to get into her panties the first time they'd shared a bed together. Instead, he'd said that would happen, but only when the time was right for both of them.

She knew that, no matter what happened or how things worked out between them, she would always treasure the memory of this dance because, for her, it was the night she danced with not just any prince, but her prince.

The ball had gone reasonably well, Randi thought. She'd run into a few people she knew and had exchanged pleasantries and a few dances with some of them. Even the conversation with her parents had been reasonably civil, especially when they had been discussing her recent work with the NYPD. That had interested a number of people, especially when she mentioned the Vandersteen fraud case. Naturally she couldn't really say a lot about the case until it went to court but she said enough to keep the gossip going for weeks. Every now and then, though, the memory of her dance with Mac would creep into her mind and a small smile would come across her face, leaving a lot of people wondering just what was going through the woman's head. All in all, it was turning out to be a reasonably pleasant evening.

"I really do wish she would stop acting like such a brainless bimbo and come to her senses," a male voice said as Randi ducked around a corner for a moment of privacy and to take her feet out of her shoes, which were starting to ache a bit. Yeah, she wore heels a lot but she also sat down regularly. She'd been on her feet and moving about for almost five hours straight, including the very memorable dance with Mac.

Randi instantly recognized the voice. It was Stewart. Curious, she listened in. Then her blood went cold as she heard her sister's voice.

"She's always been that way, even when we were kids. I have absolutely no idea what people see in her, especially with the way she acts and dresses. And that dress she's wearing? My lord, how embarrassed I am to even be associated with her. She's supposed to be a Wilcox and yet she doesn't even have the grace to dress like one, yet alone act like one."

"She's so absorbed in her antiques that she can't wake up and smell the money. If I had it my way, that stupid bitch she calls a secretary would be gone, replaced with someone more competent, and I'd be bringing in the more bigger money contracts," Stewart said.

"Then why haven't you done it?"

"Because she's got that jackass of a lawyer watching everything very closely. I can't even get her to sign a contract without him looking it over. Stupid prick. She says she doesn't trust me, after that Fellany business. I did what I thought was best for the business but what Randi wants, Randi gets, just like the spoilt little girl she is. Even watching her pant after that rent-a-cop, Mac Taylor, like some bitch in heat, it was absolutely sickening."

"So get rid of her. I have the contacts and the know-how. I can take over her business for you, make it yours and make her work for you rather than the other way around."

"My, my, aren't you a vindictive little madam."

Catherine's voice went ice cold. "That little slut of a sister of mine has always had things handed to her on a plate. I'm always quite happy to take her little toys away. What's one more thing?" Then her voice went seductive. "You know, you and I could always have a little fun of our own and I know just the place."

"I like the way you think…." Stewart said, and they moved away.

Tears coursed down Randi's face. Never, in her whole life, had she heard such hurtful words as she had just heard. She was too embarrassed to go back to the ball after that, knowing what her sister and business partner thought of her. Brainless bimbo. Spoilt little girl. Bitch in heat. Little slut of a sister. God, how those words hurt, hurt beyond belief. Was that how everyone saw her as?

Fumbling in her satchel, she reached for her cell phone and quickly turned it off. She didn't want to talk to anyone, to hear from anyone. She just wanted to get away from it all. Sobbing, she picked up her skirts and quickly cut through the lobby of the ballroom, ignoring anyone who called out to her in her desperation to escape. Once she was outside, she started running. Where she was going, she didn't know and didn't care. Then the rain started.

Within moments, Randi was soaked to the skin. Shivering, she took refuge inside a doorway with a pair of hookers. They looked at her sympathetically.

"Hey honey, what are you doing out here in this weather?" one asked kindly, noting the way she was dressed.

"I-I," she stuttered.

"It's okay, sugar. Bad date?" the other hooker asked, kindly. Randi nodded jerkily, shivering from the cold and the damp. Then she looked around at her surroundings. She was in an area she was sure she was familiar with, one that could take her to the one place she really wanted to be right now. Her feet were absolutely killing her.

"Where am I?" she asked.

The hookers told her and she nodded. Yes, she was about a few blocks away from her new target. Taking off her shoes, she handed them to the ladies. "These are killing my feet. Take them," she said. "After tonight I seriously doubt I'll ever wear the damn things again."

"What about you, honey? Where are you going to go?" the first hooker asked, amazed by her generosity.

"The only place I feel safe right now," Randi replied, taking off into the rain again. This time she knew where she was going.

It was late at night but the memory of his dance with Randi still sat on his mind. Mac was debating with himself to call her to see how she was doing when his door buzzer rang, which was odd for this time of night, especially since it was absolutely pouring outside.

"Hello?" he asked, pressing the intercom button.

"Mac? Mac, it's me, Randi! Please, Mac, please let me come in!" came Randi's voice.

"Randi? Randi, what the heck are you doing out here at this time of night?" he demanded.

"Freezing my ass off, that's what!"

Mac quickly pressed the door button and, as a precaution, reached for his weapon. Yeah, it was Randi's voice but one never knew the situation. A moment later, someone rapped on the door and Mac looked out the peephole. Then he was unlocking the door and flinging it open. Randi stood there, soaked to the skin, shivering and barefoot, looking nothing like the beautiful woman he'd seen a few hours before. Now she looked bedraggled and absolutely miserable.

"Randi? What the hell happened?" he demanded, hauling her inside and in to his arms. Then, to his everlasting surprise, she burst in to tears.