Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid.

Kate looked back over at me, a little sympathetically.

"I went to the range without you the other day." She confessed, smile soft. "It felt like cheating."

She was trying to be nice, but to me it sounded like, "I still love you even though you're stupid."

"Try anything new?"

"I stuck with the .38."

"You didn't like the Glock."

"It was okay, but it's not my best friend or anything. I guess I just prefer the revolver."

"You and Sully." I shook my head.

Michael Rockwell looked at Kate with interest. Well, more interest. She'd been right. His nickname did make him sound stupid.

"You've fired a weapon?"

She sat up straight, offended. "I've fired several." She gestured at his gun. "Including one like that, once. I mean, I fired it many times on one occasion. I've also tried a crossbow and…" she looked up at the ceiling, in thought, "Oh! I took fencing in college, for a half a semester."

"We had a cardboard tube battle last Christmas, and she killed me." I admitted. "Don't let her distract you. That's when she'll get you."

Kate looked back at me quickly and I could tell she'd gotten an idea.

I didn't want her to have an idea, because if she had an idea, it meant she'd act on it.

She looked down at her feet, a little smile on her face, and it looked as though she was thinking things through.

Finally, she drew her shoulders back and cracked her neck.

I couldn't stand that sound. It made my teeth ache.

She stretched, raising her clasped hands above her head.

"I'm sorry," she said in apology, extending her legs straight out and flexing and pointing her toes alternately. "I have two small children and I'm not used to being still for such a long period of time. And you wouldn't let me sprint down the hall..."

She suddenly jumped up with a cry of agony, and stood on her right leg, favoring her left.

Rockwell looked startled and alarmed at the same time. "What?!" he demanded.

"It's a cramp! Oh my God!" She put her hand on the table for support. "Hamstring. This is no good," she said in a panic, hopping on her right leg, grimacing and gripping a fistful of her own hair.

"Help her!" I yelled at him. Her expression said the pain was real, but this was just too convenient.

"What do you need?" he started toward her, but she was already hopping in his direction.

"Please," she pleaded, gesturing at me, "I need to stretch. He helps me with this all the time. Can you let him go - just for a minute? Please."

He shook his head. "No way."

"Then you have to help me." She said desperately, grabbing his shoulders right near the collarbones and squeezing. I could see him wince. I knew that hurt: I'd been giving Boo a piggy-back ride one day and she'd grabbed me there and pinched. I'd almost dropped her.

"What do you want me to do?" She let go of him, giving him a little shove, so he was right back up against the brick wall. What the hell was she doing?

"Can you do this?" She asked, lacing her hands together. He set his weapon down on the floor and did, waist high. She put her heel in his palms. "Okay, now you need to push my knee up. " He tried, I'll give him that, but he just wasn't sure what to do. Finally, a little impatiently, Kate snapped at him, "Just grab my leg and do it!" He grabbed her ankle with both hands. She was only about two feet away from him, leg bent neatly in half close to chest level.

Brilliant. In seconds she'd had him disarmed, confused, off-balance, distracted and to top it all off he had his hands full.

"You've been decent." She said, looking him right in the eye. "I'm really sorry about this." He looked perplexed, but only for a second.

Because sweet, elegant, womanly Kate, using every bit of her strength, drove the heel of her hand right up under his chin, which cracked the back of his head right into the brick wall behind him. And that was not a pleasant sound either. That was going to produce quite a headache, if not a concussion.

She hopped a little to keep her balance as she watched him slide to the floor. "Huh", She huffed, with a dazed look that questioned if she'd really just done that.

"Army of One." I concurred. "And I warned him and everything."

I wondered what kind of cop she would have made, but the only image I could come up with was Kate patrolling a street in Candyland, handing out vanilla ice cream cones to little boys, rescuing kittens from trees and returning lost puppies to teary eyed girls. With gift bows. God I was exhausted. With escape so close, I suddenly felt an adrenaline deficit.

She dug into his left pocket for the key to the handcuffs and came over quickly to release me.

"Dammit!" she grunted, struggling to work the key. "Here I have you handcuffed to a bed and there's not a damn thing I can do about it."

"You're making jokes?"

"Who's joking? I kind of like you helpless."

"Then ask me to paint a room." I grumbled.

"That's not helpless, that's disastrous."

She finally got the key to work. "See?"She indicated our unconscious friend. "I pay attention to all your little lessons."

"If that's the case, how'd they manage to get you in the first place?"

She frowned. "He hit me in the head. How'd they get you, Van Damme?"

"He told me they had you."

"Oh." she said simply.

I stood and dangled the cuffs out to her from my index finger. "It's all you."

"Really?"

"You dropped him." She smiled like a giddy little kid and went over to him.

"Um, he's bleeding. Can we at least put him on the bed?"

"That's some killer instinct you have there." I observed.

"Come on, what can it hurt?"

"Fine." We lifted him onto the bed and she cuffed his right wrist to the bed frame.

"I hope he'll be okay." She stood looking down at him, then tried to arrange his head comfortably on the pillow.

"Let's just get out of here before they get back. Where in the world did you get the idea to do that?"

"I just asked myself 'what would Bosco do'?" Right. That was exactly what I would have done.

I grabbed her arm. "Yeah. Hold on. What's the deal with the comment about the nicknames?"

" Well, 'Bosco' is George Costanza's ATM code. When I hear that word, I think of George. It's kind of a mood-killer."

But she was teasing.

"I was just trying to make my own fun." She squeezed my face with one hand and kissed me.

The door slammed open, making us both jump. Kate clung to me.

"Isn't that sweet." Serena said snidely. She was in the doorway, gun drawn, Victor just behind her.

Damn. So close.

Mistake #1? I should have had Kate secure his weapon before releasing me.

Mistake #2? Having a conversation at a standstill instead of at a full sprint.

Mistake #3? Haven't made that one yet.