Chapter 17 – Wedding Crashers
A/N: This chapter takes place over several months from fall to the following June.
Coach Finch surveyed the rapidly filling stands as the scrimmage between Machine High and J E Hoover High was about to get underway. Even though this match would have no impact on either team's records or their standing in the conference, Finch knew that many across the city saw this as more than just a friendly game. With the earlier negative publicity about Machine High and the front page headlines about Quinn's theft, the shootout and the chapel exploding, this scrimmage was going to be viewed as a requiem on the school itself, a symbol of whether or not Machine High could literally rise from the ashes.
The explosion had caused extensive damage to the campus as debris from the chapel and flaming boulders from the stone plaza had caused many buildings to be destroyed or severely damaged. Temporary classrooms had been set up in the cafeteria and the gymnasium, and the normally clean and quiet campus was full of dirt, dust and noise as the damaged buildings were being razed or repaired. A significant portion of students, faculty and staffers left for other schools, and as John Greer had predicted, corporations and charitable groups stopped giving to Machine High altogether.
Even with the influx of funds from Joss' father, money was tight; much had gone to restore the campus itself and during long sessions with Accounting teacher Leon Tao deploying his forensic accounting skills, it was discovered that Quinn had taken out several questionable loans, siphoning off a considerable amount for Simmons to use as he was preparing to take over the School Board Head's criminal enterprises.
Working with new School Board Head Monica Jacobs, a former IT executive, the Auto Shop Teacher had created a workable budget, repaid the school's creditors, granted severance packages and tuition and scholarship refunds to those who had left and developed an ambitious rebuilding program. On more than one night Finch had observed Reese carrying an exhausted, protesting Joss away from the campus for a late dinner at the mansion, or after working a Number, the three men would find Joss curled up in a chair in John's apartment, asleep, while papers spilled from her hand onto the floor. The Coach was glad to find the Auto Shop teacher today, in the stands, holding hands with the Cafeteria Lady. Ms. Marconi was by her side and Finch knew that once Bear had completed his last security check, he would be joining them.
Finch nodded to four men sitting in the stands: Coaches Raymond Terney, Arthur Lynch and Lazlo Yogorov with his son and assistant coach, Peter. The three older men, along with Coach Donnelly, had ruled city football for years, until the Machine High teams started winning – a victory would put the other coaches on notice that Nicholas Donnelly, and Hoover High, were making their move to the top, something clearly relished by Hoover's Principal, Kara Stanton, who stood on the field, her cold eyes sweeping across the sold out crowd.
The Coach smiled as Grace's bright red hair signaled her arrival. Grace had taken a temporary assignment in the Art department, working with students in the studio and also teaching Art History – in addition to being a talented artist, Grace was also a skilled restorer as well. Finch looked forward to seeing her every day as they slowly repaired the relationship that the Coach had destroyed years ago.
His smile faded as Brian Moss mounted the stairs behind her.
The FBI agent was supposedly only a friend, but Finch sensed that if given a chance, Moss would like much more than just friendship with Grace.
He sighed, realizing that he might have to settle for the very thing with Grace that he noted to Reese and Bear during their fight in the helicopter about Joss – friendship.
Taking a deep breath, the Coach told himself to focus. The team had worked hard, they had prepared, they were ready.
And so was he.
After his talk with Grace in the park, the next day Finch had hesitantly picked up the old phone in his office and quietly stated that he no longer wanted plays from opposing schools. He'd held his breath, waiting.
There was only silence.
But while the Machine continued to issue Numbers, there were no plays from Hoover High.
Finch took one last look into the crowd. Grace, who had been talking with Moss, suddenly turned her head towards him and smiled.
The Coach smiled back and turned his attention to the game.
Machine High jumped to a quick lead, but Hoover High slowly, methodically pulled ahead and with only two minutes left they were ahead by two field goals. As the Coach called time out, he could hear Donnelly's deep, sonorous voice booming across the field, assuring Principal Stanton that the game was well in hand.
Principal Stanton's arch tones somehow carried on the wind. "Hope so, Nick." She touched his hand in what seemed to be a comforting gesture, but Finch had worked with Reese and Bear long enough to know that her slender fingers were sending a spike of pain up Donnelly's arm. "Doing your job means I won't have to do mine."
As the whistle sounded, suddenly the Coach's phone, which he had set to vibrate, began ringing.
The Machine.
Finch paused, then he shut his phone off. "My apologies," he said, then he spoke softly to his brilliant quarterback Dominic Fraternite.
"Read the field," the Coach said, "and move when you think the time is right."
The massive teen, nicknamed Mini, look surprised for a moment – Finch had always issued detailed instructions before - but then his eyes lit up and he nodded. "Yes, Coach."
The noise faded around Finch as the players took the field.
Dominic moved the team forward. The coach could feel the anxiety in the crowd behind him as the seconds ticked down; it looked as though Machine High would only be able to get a field goal, but the Coach stood there, relaxed; Dominic knew exactly what he was doing.
Suddenly, the quarterback hurled a bullet like pass to lanky wide receiver Caleb Phipps.
The crowd stood up, turning in unison as the ball flew across the field.
Caleb's long arms hauled down the pass and he stepped nimbly across the goal line.
Touchdown.
Pandemonium raged as the crowd went wild, the Machine High team started celebrating and an apoplectic Coach Donnelly began shouting that Caleb didn't have control of the ball.
There was a hushed silence as the officials conferred.
Finally, a microphone cracked. "After further review…" the official paused, "the ruling stands. Touchdown!"
Donnelly lunged forward and decked the official.
As he raised his fist again, Bear, who had soared out of the stands like a gazelle, grasped his wrist between his strong jaws, and Reese, who was right behind him, wrestled the raging man to the ground.
Donnelly screamed as slight freshman Malcolm Booker kicked the extra point.
The crowd ran onto the field and a bruised, hysterical Donnelly was last seen chasing after an enraged Principal Stanton, his low voice now a high pitched squeal of abject apologies.
Late that night, Donnelly's SUV was rammed by a red truck.
The Coach survived, but he was gravely injured and would be out of commission for months.
When contacted by the Ledger for a statement, Principal Stanton's office said that she was on a recruiting trip in China and not available for comment.
XXX
'Back in Gear', 'Heavy Metal', 'Dominic's Dominion', 'Maximum Mini' – the articles about the come from behind victory focused not just on the win, but on all the efforts that were being made to keep Machine High going, how they had pulled together and despite the odds against them, were making it work, as Joss had told Maxine Angelis.
They weren't thriving, but they were surviving, and as stories about Quinn, Simmons and their men faded from the headlines while they slowly wended their way through the legal system, Machine High began to be seen as something separate from them, something worth fighting for.
Many of the students, faculty and staff who had left were now returning, citing how they missed being at Machine High, and while there were no corporate or charitable donations, nearby neighbors and businesses gave what they could – their money, their time, a smile or a thumbs up to passerby heading toward the school.
And sometimes Joss would find envelopes slipped into the Auto Shop's garage old key drop. There would be a simple note inside – "Thank you", "You saved my life.", "You kept me from making a terrible mistake."
Joss would smile and set aside the notes for John, Finch and Bear.
XXX
True to her word, Antonia dismantled the rest of Elias' empire and took a position in the Foreign Languages department, where she immediately became a favorite instructor, enthralling students with stories of her days as a Mob Enforcer in several different languages.
The sleek dog began spending more and more time at the mansion, listening to discussions about the latest Number, her dark eyes often glinting in amusement or rolling in derision, but to everyone's surprise, including her own, Antonia didn't leave and as Machine High's budget began to stabilize with the additional funds from Joss' late father, both women added their considerable skills to the work Reese, Finch and Bear did helping people.
One evening after a harrowing, yet ultimately satisfying battle, they headed back to an anxious Finch at the mansion, tired but happy. As they passed through the park's gates, Bear watched Reese take Ms. Carter's hand and whisper in her ear. She laughed softly, turning towards his friend, and as the full moon shone on her upturned face, the Security Head was struck at how beautiful the Auto Shop teacher was.
"I dated her –"
Antonia nipped him sharply on the ear, silencing him.
Bear gazed at her. Antonia was brave and intelligent and sleekly beautiful in her own right, he thought. Ms. Carter, as special as she was, had made her choice, and as he watched the happy couple stroll off into the distance, the Auto Shop teacher coaxing a rare burst of laughter from the man who had rescued him at his lowest point, Bear knew she had made the right one.
Perhaps it was time he made a choice as well.
Tapping his paw, Bear shut off the translator. Tilting his head towards Antonia, he said quietly, in his own voice, in English, "Ms. Groves has created a detailed plan for revitalizing the maze. May I show you what we've accomplished so far, Antonia?"
She tilted her head back at him, her dark eyes glinting. "A walk, Bear? On a lovely, moonlit night?"
Straightening his head, Bear stepped in front of Antonia, standing directly across from her. His voice was low and serious. "Yes, Antonia, a walk."
She looked at him for a long moment, then gave him a slight nod, as her eyes softened. "Lead on," she said in Dutch.
Their tails began wagging in unison as they strolled off together.
XXX
"You know I actually watched you coach one day, Harold, after…," Grace shrugged, as her fingers flew across her sketch pad. There was no sadness or anger in her voice, and Finch marveled again, at her capacity to forgive him.
He had begun joining her regularly as she worked on the park project, bringing her hot drinks as the weather began to cool. They had settled into an easy friendship, and while the Coach couldn't help quietly rejoicing when Brian Moss accepted a senior Bureau position across the country, he also knew that any change in their relationship would have to be Grace's decision, not his.
"I don't recall you being on the sidelines or in the stands, Grace." He smiled at her softly. "I definitely would have noticed."
She smiled back. "I had a commission for a historical restoration in an old building on campus…it was a library at some point, I think. I was standing on a balcony and from that height, I could see the field from some of the windows."
Finch forced himself to remain calm, his voice low and measured. "Please tell me everything about why you were there."
"Well…it was rather strange. I was asked to correct work done on a group of paintings there, from the Depression. At least that's what they told me, but they really only wanted me to focus on one, a harbor scene. Whoever had done the previous work had botched it and while I was hesitant about further altering a historical painting, the work needed to be done and I agreed to do it."
Despite himself, the Coach leaned forward, then caught himself and sat back. "What did they ask you to do?"
"I was asked to remove and then repaint some of the details in the painting, like the numbers on a vessel or an address on a warehouse – whoever had done it before used the same paint and the same style on each detail and I needed to make it appear as though they were original to the painting."
"So that they would blend in," Finch nodded. "Unless someone knew what to look for."
"Yes, exactly…" Grace paused in her work, turning to look at him. "Harold, the articles about everything that happened at the school that night said that the explosives were placed in that old building because it was in the center of campus, but that wasn't the reason why, was it?"
"No, Grace, it's not." The Coach shifted on the park bench so that she could sit beside him. Quietly Finch told her the information that Joss had shared with him that evening.
"So Quinn's doomsday scheme destroyed any electronic references re: the money he stole?"
"That's correct. Joss sent me to the old library later that night, with the slim hope that while the painting itself had undoubtedly been destroyed by Quinn's men, her smashed phone might still have the photos she had taken of the details you had so meticulously repainted – she had sent the photos to the late English teacher, Mr. Burton, but his phone was destroyed by the bullet that killed him… but the same corrosive materials used to destroy the painting had also been applied copiously to the pile of debris that Joss had hurled her device into. All that was left was a toxic pool of…" Finch paused, searching for the right word, then said with a grimace, "goo – I can't believe I just said that."
They shared a wry glance, then Grace tilted her head at him. "If you had that information, could you find the money?"
"It would take a concerted, collective effort…but yes, I think we could." The Coach leaned forward again. "Grace, is there any possibility that you have photos or sketches of the work that you did?"
She shook her head. "No. They were insistent that I not create any documentation, and since I finished the work in one day –" Grace closed her eyes, thinking.
Harold held his breath as she murmured, "Maybe…," then let it out as Grace shook her head again.
Suddenly she opened her eyes and leapt to her feet. "It's a long shot, but I think…" Grace began gathering her supplies, almost throwing them into her bag in her haste. "Masterpiece Theatre!"
The Coach looked at her, bewildered. "I'm afraid I don't understand."
She grabbed his hand, laughing. "Harold, you named it – Masterpiece Theatre. Don't you remember?"
Head swimming at the touch of her skin, Finch blinked slowly, then rapidly as he remembered. "Yes. Yes, I do." He helped her gather the rest of her things and they hurriedly left the park.
Grace's apartment was as he remembered it, warm and welcoming, full of cinnamon and sunshine, he thought, as she led him to her studio. A true artist, Grace had turned the master bedroom into her workspace, and he smiled as he viewed the beautiful completed and in-progress paintings from the park project.
"Here, Harold," Grace said, as she flung the walk-in closet door open. "Masterpiece Theatre!"
Unlike the rest of her home, the space was a cluttered mess, full of old canvases and broken easels. Experiments in different mediums and techniques lined the walls and a board splashed with dozens of paint splotches leaned against a rickety looking file cabinet. Finch had jokingly named the former closet 'Masterpiece Theatre' because Grace had insisted during a lively debate that there weren't any failures inside, just future masterpieces, waiting for the right moment to be fully realized.
They quickly shoved all the other items aside and Finch helped Grace wrench open one of the lower file cabinet drawers. Her slender hands riffled through sketches, brochures and pamphlets, finally pulling out a small bound notebook and flipping through the pages. "I'd attended a trade show the day before and they had passed out these out to the attendees…I realized when I was taking the subway home after I finished the work on the painting that I still had this in my jacket pocket…I made some notes on the building's architecture and some sketches…yes…yes…here," she held up the volume for him to see.
There was a simple line sketch of the harbor scene.
"I don't know if I jotted down all the changes, but –"
"Grace!" Harold laughed out loud. "This is wonderful!"
He leaned forward and kissed her.
"Harold!" Grace took a step back, dropping the notebook, her mouth open in shock.
They stared at each other for a long moment.
Finch began backing away, but Grace lunged forward, grabbed his lapels and kissed him back.
Passionately kissing, they stumbled against the items they had shoved aside, stopping only when there was a loud crashing noise.
"Harold," Grace sighed as he nuzzled her neck. "I think we just broke something."
"No, my love," Harold whispered, as they sank to the floor, entwined, "we're about to create a masterpiece."
XXX
"Wow."
Bear sat there, waiting for Antonia to say something more, but the former Mob Enforcer was silent, her gaze firmly focused on the elaborate plans spread out on the table in the Security Head's apartment. Finally, she lifted her head when she realized he was staring at her. "What?"
"I had hoped your response might be a little more elaborate, Antonia."
Her ears swiveled. "'Wow' is not acceptable?"
"Of course it is acceptable…I just…I would have expected something more…detailed…from a Foreign Language instructor…but…'Wow' is… good –" avoiding her eyes, he slid a paw across the papers, gathering them together. "Did I tell you that I received an invitation from two former colleagues who are now attached to the Secret Service detail at the White House –"
"Bear," Antonia lightly touched his paw. "You know I'm not afraid to speak my mind, right?," she said softly.
The Security Head nodded, still not meeting her gaze, but his voice softened as well. "On occasion, all too well, Antonia."
"I was never the silent type, even when I was a pup."
Bear looked at her. "Yes, I remember that you told me how that saved your life."
While the Malinois could trace his lineage back over many generations, he had learned during nightly walks with Antonia, that she was the rarest of elite dogs, that somehow, through some genetic alchemy of her parents, she had been one of six, all the others 'normal' puppies. Sensing and fearing her difference, her parents had abandoned her, and Antonia was close to death when Elias had taken Joss to the park one day. He'd been shocked when a filthy, emaciated puppy with a deep cut in her muzzle crawled out from under a park bench and started cooing in unison with her.
Baby Joss' eyes lit up and the two began a duet, their high pitched voices dazzling as they counterpointed and harmonized together.
Elias had taken her home and raised her along with Joss. He named her Antonia after his childhood friend, Anthony, and her surname was chosen from the day they found her, the inventor Marconi's birthday.
"I talked so much that one year Jossy saved her allowance and bought me a muzzle – still have it. And no," Antonia's own muzzle twitched at the sudden glint in his eyes, "you can't borrow it."
Her voice softened once more. "I've always got something to say, Bear, unless something is really important to me."
Bear nodded again, recalling the joy and relief in Antonia's face when Joss finally emerged from the burning chapel with Reese, and how fiercely she had hugged her. "So…this…is important to you?"
"Yes, Bear…it's…wonderful. Show me where it will go."
They slipped outside. Snow had fallen and Bear held back as he pressed his paw against the glowing yellow square, opening the gate to the fence around the mansion. He watched Antonia glide almost silently over the snow, her sleek dark fur shimmering in the moonlight, marveling at how she moved with power and purpose, yet with grace and femininity.
She paused, turning her head, and Bear realized that she was waiting for him. The Security Head darted after her, cursing silently when he slid across the snow, almost falling, but he righted himself just in time, avoiding her amused gaze as he led her to another part of his property on the other side of the mansion.
They passed through an orchard of fruit trees, their twisted, gnarled trunks casting jagged shadows across the snow, until they finally came to a treeless flat piece of land.
Bear cast his eyes over the open space. "We'll enclose the whole area first – then begin construction."
Antonia surveyed the spot appraisingly. "Yes, this would work. Enough room for a kick ass obstacle course."
"For canines and humans alike." Bear walked her through the site, pointing out where every contraption, every rope and pulley would go, showing her how a combination of computerized, mechanical and tactical wizardry from Finch, Joss, Reese and himself would create a constantly changing, constantly evolving obstacle course that would keep them physically fit and mentally alert. "We'll all use it, well, everyone except for Finch."
Her eyes twinkled. "He might surprise you."
There was a barely discernable rustling and both dogs turned to watch an owl soar majestically across the night sky.
"Beautiful," Antonia murmured.
"Yes," Bear whispered, gazing at her, "very beautiful."
Their eyes met, then Antonia abruptly lowered her head. "I know that you said it's for everyone, but…" her paws shifted in the show, "you're really doing this for me, Bear." she whispered. "Why?"
Bear stepped close to her. "I know that…giving up your former life was hard…"
"Lesson plans, grading papers, being stuck in a classroom all day…Jossy's been a big help and the kids are great, but, yeah…" she nodded slowly, then raised her head, "it's different. I used to roam the city, you know, checking on Elias' holdings, spying on the competition. I knew every neighborhood, every way to slip in and out undetected, who needed to be talked to and who needed a little more persuasion…who was an ally and who just pretended to be. I don't –" her dark eyes searched his. "I don't want to get soft, Bear. I don't want to forget who I am."
"You never will. This," he stepped even closer, "will help, but you'll always be you." He gently licked the old scar on her muzzle. "You'll always be my brave, beautiful Antonia."
Her tail wagged in slow, sensuous circles as Bear traced his tongue along the curve of her ear. "Ah," she purred, "I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks – two old dogs, in fact."
She gently licked Bear back.
Pressing their heads together, the two dogs stood there for a while, until the owl hooted at them. "Looks like the night watchman is kicking us out, Bear."
"I suppose we should leave the field to our feathered friend," Bear replied. "A nightcap? Broth or brandy to warm us up?" he asked.
Antonia snorted. "Brandy, of course, and I want to see those plans again." Her eyes traveled along his muscular frame. "I have a few ideas of my own."
Do be do be do, do do da de da, da da da da da," Bear sang as they headed back to the mansion.
XXX
Gun drawn, Martine Rousseau raced into her boss' office.
She stood there, bewildered at the scene unfolding in front of her.
Red faced, shaking uncontrollably in his chair, his thick helmet of hair flopping over his forehead, wheezing, snorting and making honking sounds, it took the highly trained operative a moment to realize that the head of Samaritan Industries hadn't been attacked, poisoned or fallen ill.
John Greer was laughing.
Laughing.
"Sir…" she said hesitantly, "are you…alright?"
"I'm…perfectly…fine…Ms. …Rousseau…" Greer gasped out, as his body slowly stilled. Gripping the desk with one hand to steady himself, Greer slowly turned his monitor with his other hand so that Ms. Rousseau could see what had caused him to react so strangely.
'Dollar Daze' the headline screamed.
Ms. Rousseau scanned the first paragraph, then frowned at her superior. "So they found the money. I fail to see the humor in this, sir."
Smoothing back his hair, Greer smiled at her. "No, I suppose you wouldn't, but I've lived long enough to see life as a game, Ms. Rousseau. Sometimes having a worthy opponent is much more interesting than actually winning. And Jocelyn Carter and her friends at Machine High are definitely interesting. Please," he waved at a chair, "put your weapon away and take a closer look at Ms. Angelis' article."
Barely concealing her irritation, Martine sat down, forcing herself to read the article in detail. Greer watched as her expression slowly changed.
Maxine Angelis' article described how detailed documentation re: Quinn's criminal enterprises had been anonymously delivered to Detective Szymanski at the same time the funds that had been donated to Machine High from various corporations and charitable groups had suddenly found their way back to those organizations.
With one glaring exception.
Samaritan Industries.
No funds were returned to Samaritan Industries, but shelters, soup kitchens, veterans and youth groups across the city had all simultaneously received anonymous donations totaling in the tens of millions of dollars.
The total those worthy groups received was the exact amount of money that Greer's company had donated to Machine High.
He slid his computer mouse across the desk. "Click on the comments, my dear."
Martine's eyebrows almost reached her hairline as she clicked through various social media sites.
Smiling, Greer leaned back in his chair. "I believe this is what Americans would call a 'home run', Martine."
"Yes…" her lips twisted in more of a grimace than a smile. "They've certainly 'touched all the bases'…" she stood up, pacing the huge office for several moments, then turned back to him, holding up a long index finger. "First, somehow they found a clue, something that Quinn, and we, missed."
"Yes," Greer nodded, "and once they had that clue, a computer genius like Mr. Finch and a forensic accountant like Mr. Tao were able to trace where the money was."
"Then," Martine held up a second finger, "the two former cops, Carter and Fusco, were able to thoroughly document Quinn's operation…" she paused, thinking, "they used the knowledge that dog, Marconi, had of organized crime in the city, to make sure that not only will Quinn, Simmons and their men go away for a very long time, but also that Quinn's organization is completely destroyed."
Greer nodded again. "Exactly, no vestiges left for some ambitious underling who somehow escaped the authorities, to try to resurrect it. I would also suspect that Mr. Reese and Mr. DeHond persuaded any lucky subordinates who escaped capture to choose another profession and/or leave town."
"But why," Martine held up a third finger, "why would they return the money to the organizations that donated it to them? Why not keep it?"
"Ah, that's where their Community Relations Liaison, Ms. Morgan, would come into play. Giving the money back, clearly separates the current administration from Mr. Quinn's former regime."
There was a hint of admiration in Martine's eyes. "And with all the positive publicity that Machine High has received of late, corporations and charitable groups will start giving to them again." She tilted her head, listening. "It's already happening."
"Machine High, 'the little school who could' – everyone loves a comeback story. And," Greer leaned forward in his chair, "everyone loves a villain."
Martine held up a fourth finger. "And that villain is Samaritan Industries."
"Yes." There was a hint of steel in Greer's smile now. "It was our generous donation that was the catalyst for Quinn's treachery, I spoke out publically against the school, and the recent misfortunes at J E Hoover High occurred only after we started working with them."
She shook her head. "We weren't responsible for any of that. We didn't make Coach Donnelly attack that referee, or cause Principal Stanton to disappear in Ordos, China, or even for their football team to lose every game this season."
"We're the common denominator. And the comments on various media sites are pointing to us. Despite everything Mr. Quinn and his associates did, they grew up in this city; we're the outsiders – they'll pay, but people want us to pay, too, or at the very least, go away."
Martine raised an eyebrow. "Do you think that Carter knew that would happen?"
Greer leaned back in his chair again. "Initially, no. Giving the money Samaritan Industries donated to Machine High to those groups was a signal from her to us, that they would rebuff any attempt of ours to work with them again. Trying to reclaim the money they donated would be a public relations disaster for us, and could also bring up questions about why we donated so much money to Machine High in the first place, questions that Mr. Quinn would be all too eager to answer, in an attempt to shift some of his transgressions onto us. But now," Greer chuckled, "nobody in the city will work with Samaritan Industries."
Martine shook her head again. "You admire her," she said incredulously.
Greer laughed out loud. "Yes, indeed I do! Jocelyn Carter saved Machine High, vanquished Quinn, donated millions of dollars of our money to worthy causes and ran us out of town. She is her father's daughter." He stood up, walked around his desk and stood next to Martine. "I'll enjoy seeing how Machine High flourishes from Chicago."
"Chicago?"
"Yes, my dear, our next stop is the City of Big Shoulders* – you'll love it there. Samaritan has issued a new list of targets in Chicago, and," he winked, as he took Martine's hand, "Ms. Carter has absolutely no affiliation with that fair city."
Martine smiled down at him. "Could we meet Oprah, sir?"
"I believe that Ms. Winfrey spends most of her time on the West Coast now, but anything's possible, my dear Martine." His eyes bored into hers as he kissed her slender, ice cold fingers. "Anything."
As they left his office, Greer chortled, "Perhaps we'll even help the Cubs win the World Series**!"
XXX
"I was wondering when you'd come to see me, Ms. Carter. Should I expect to be murdered tonight? I'm sure Carl Elias' daughter has 'connections' inside that would be all too eager to do a favor for you."
Alonzo Quinn stared at the woman who had ruined his life.
"I don't have connections like that, and if I even if I did, death would be too good for you," Joss' soft smile didn't reach her eyes. "I did use my connections as a former police officer to ask the warden for a favor."
"Oh?" Quinn asked, intrigued despite himself. "And what sort of favor was that?"
"A communications blackout. I'm sure you noticed that there were no visitors, no phone service, no television, no newspaper deliveries, no internet access, no electronic transmissions of any kind today."
"Yes, even the cell phones smuggled in here wouldn't work for some reason. The guards and staff were able to communicate with each other on a limited basis, it seems, but not the prisoners. So you were responsible for that, Ms. Carter."
"A friend was. Everything will be back to normal tomorrow, but I wanted you to hear this from me first." She leaned forward, quietly telling Quinn about Maxine Angelis' article.
Quinn felt the walls of the small meeting room closing in on him as he listened to her.
"I know someone like you thinks he always has a way out; you've already thrown your henchmen under the bus, crafted a diminished capacity defense, got your judge pals to rule in your favor in preliminary hearings. Even if it took five, ten, fifteen years, you thought you'd eventually get out and all that money would be waiting for you, and you'd reward the people who helped you." Joss' soft smile was positively feral now. "Well it's gone, Mr. Quinn, and any 'connections' you might still have on the outside are all too busy trying to save themselves or they've left town."
Quinn tried to raise his hands to strike her, but his handcuffs were chained to the meeting room table, and he shook his fists at her feebly. "Get out. Get out now," he rasped.
She stood, smile fading, her big brown eyes suddenly sad. "You know, I asked you once, why? You had everything. Now you have nothing, and no one. You're all alone, Mr. Quinn."
He stared at her, the impact of her final sentence causing a silent scream of rage to futilely slam against her back as she walked away.
Joss knocked on the door, and the corrections officer let her out of the meeting room.
Reese was waiting for her at the end of the hall. "You okay, Joss?" he asked, taking her hand.
"I'm good. Thanks for understanding that I had to meet with Quinn by myself, John."
"I didn't like it, but I know it was important to you, and," Reese smirked, "I used the time wisely."
"Really?" Joss smiled, "crafting new recipes?"
Reese's eyes flashed a cold steel gray as he watched Alonzo Quinn being taken away. "Let's just say, you weren't the only one delivering a message today, Joss."
XXX
Quinn noticed the change immediately, even before he heard the chant.
The averted eyes, the insolent stares, the total lack of deference as he was led back to his cell block.
As they passed through the cell block entrance, he heard it.
"Alone-zo is Gone-zo…Alone-zo is Gone-zo."
Quinn's blood ran cold as he realized that every inmate had a copy of Maxine Angelis' article, that somehow all the radios, televisions and security monitors were blaring with the news.
His legs almost gave out on him when he saw that his cell was full with copies of The Ledger all the way to the ceiling.
There was just enough room for him to squeeze between the stacks of paper and get to his bunk.
Curling into a ball, Quinn futilely tried to block out the sound as the chant continued all day and long into the night.
XXX
In the end, as he had mused to Joss and Antonia while sipping wine in his classroom, months ago, Elias was right:
"The makings of a modern day tragedy. His life's work destroyed by scandal and financial mismanagement…his reputation in ruins, emotionally and physically weakened – no one would question Quinn disappearing and then a report of his death in obscurity."
The next morning, Prisoner A8591780, A. Quinn, was found dead of a massive stroke in his cell.
XXX
"We've faced harrowing situations before, Mr. Reese, but this might be the most frightening one of all," Finch fretted, as he attempted to straighten Reese's tie.
Reese, Finch and Bear stood in an office down the hall from the main sanctuary of the newly built Machine High chapel.
The Cafeteria Lady gently drew his friend's clutching fingers away from his neck. "You're marrying an incredible woman, Finch. There's nothing to be frightened of."
"Yes, an incredible woman who will come to her senses and realize that she's making a terrible mistake! You know that Grace spent time with Brian Moss three days ago," the Coach added darkly. "Suppose he enticed her to run off with him?"
Reese shared an exasperated glance with Bear, who rolled his eyes. Finch had become impossible as the wedding approached, obsessively analyzing every aspect of the event, ranking possible disaster scenarios and charting them on every wall of the three story mansion.
"It was lunch, Finch," Reese said patiently, "a friendly lunch. Moss was in town for a few days on Bureau business, and he's gone now. He even gave you a wedding gift, which you," Reese smirked, "promptly destroyed."
"I needed to make sure it was safe. There was a rattling noise inside," Finch huffed.
"Brass candlesticks tend to rattle, Finch," Reese smiled. "I think it has something to do with all the metal."
"Yes, well, fortunately, Ms. Morgan was able to find something somewhat similar to replace them. Grace will never know the difference."
Bear made a sniggering sound. "Half the size for three times the cost. I wouldn't extend any candlelight dinner invitations to Agent Moss for the foreseeable future – he'll definitely notice."
The Coach's eyes glinted as he looked down at his friend. "And speaking of the future, Bear, what about you and Ms. Marconi?"
"An-Antonia?" Bear blinked.
"Yes, Antonia," Finch leaned forward, "or is there some other woman that you're seeing? I don't know how there could be; she's practically a full time resident at the mansion now. And why is there all this howling every morning – is this some sort of 'salutation to the sun' ritual that she's gotten you to implement? She hardly seems the type."
Bear looked down at his paws. "Uh…"
Reese fought not to smile. "I think the howling is for the same reason you had…paint…in your hair, Finch, after you and Grace reconciled."
"We had a Number, John, and I didn't have time to wash –" the Coach's eyebrows shot up. "Oh. I. See."
A low chuckle rumbled out of Reese's chest. "Nooooo. You. Heard."
The three men shared a sly glance, then Reese tilted his head at Bear. "You know, there is time, Bear. Ask her now and this could be a threesome – a three way – " the low rumbling chuckle turned into a giggle as Reese realized what he had just said.
"Please don't add to the rumors, John," Finch said drily. "There's been quite a few about three middle aged bachelors sharing the same domicile."
"You know what I mean, Finch – you're getting married, I'm getting married - this double wedding could be a triple wedding; all three of us spending the rest of our lives with the woman of our dreams."
"Yes, Mr. Reese, it could." The Coach turned to the Security Head. "We would be honored to have you and Antonia join us on this special day, Bear."
"Find her, Bear," Reese said earnestly. "Ask her now."
The Malinois took a long deep breath, then he slowly nodded. "I can. I will. I am."
Reese beamed as he walked to the office door to open it for Bear. "Finch is marrying Grace, Bear is marrying Antonia, and I'm," he laughed with pure joy, "I'M MARRYING JOSS!"
Finch smiled and Bear's tail wagged furiously as Reese's long fingers touched the doorknob.
"Unless…" he suddenly froze, "Joss comes to her senses and decides not to marry me!"
Stumbling backwards, Reese suddenly sat down, rubbing his hand over his face. "And why should she? She's a goddess and I'm just the Cafeteria Lady…" his voice trailed off miserably.
"I wanted to ask Antonia," Bear said softly, "but I was afraid that she'd say no." He glared at the humans. "And after listening to you two, I'm glad I didn't. Grace and Joss are probably on their way to Tahiti right now."
"Thank you for the vote of confidence, Bear," Finch snapped.
"That's what best men are for, Finch," Bear shot back. "I'm here for both of you."
"It's your fault that we have no idea of where they are!" Finch raged at the Security Head. "You were the one who insisted on no communication at all the night before the ceremony."
"It's tradition! I'm sure they spent a quiet evening in their apartments." He puffed his chest out. "I was also the one who talked Ms. Shaw out of taking them to the Slurphy –" Bear snapped his jaws shut but it was too late. Reese nailed him with a chilling death state.
"You talked Sameen out of what, Bear?" The Cafeteria Lady said softly.
The Malinois took several steps back, coming to an abrupt stop when his tail bumped against a wall. "It was nothing, John. A brief reunion with a former colleague…"
The Coach adjusted his glasses. "Apparently, our former Drama Coach Ian Murphy has given up dinner theatre and become an entrepreneur."
Closing his eyes, Reese ran his hand over his face again. "The Slurphy Murphy Revue?"
Flyers plastered throughout the city had advertised the male exotic dancers, whose members all had the last name of Murphy. Attendees got a large, slushy, highly alcoholic drink called a Slurphy, which for an additional fee, you could lick, or 'slurp' off various parts of a dancer's anatomy. Last night was their final appearance in the US before they started an international tour in St. Petersburg.
Nurse Shaw was rumored to have attended every performance during their stop in the city, putting her in such a good mood that students were calling her 'No-Mean' instead of 'So-Mean.'
"Yes, but as Bear already told you, John, he talked Ms. Shaw out of it. She didn't take them."
Reese turned his death stare at the older man. "You sure about that, Finch?"
"Of course! Grace and Joss would never…unless they went last night!" The Coach uttered a string of epithets in several dead languages.
"It was their last moment of freedom," Bear mused. "Two beautiful women at the height of their sexual allure, surrounded by gyrating naked men half their age, one could hardly blame them if they –" he quailed at Reese's growl, bumping into the wall again. "Did I say that out loud?"
Judge Samuel Gates opened the door. "We are running late, gentlemen, but don't worry. I'm sure your brides will be here shortly."
"We're FINE!" Reese and Finch shouted with stiff smiles.
The Judge's lips quirked. "You may want to lower your voices. The guests have arrived." He closed the door.
Bear flattened his ears. "We're here, the guests are here – where are they? If Joss leaves you at the altar," he glared at Reese again, "Antonia will go with her. The only 'salutation to the sun' I'll be doing is – by myself!" he whimpered.
Finch slumped down next to Reese and Bear laid his head on his knee as the three men huddled together in their misery.
Finally, there was a soft knock on the door. The Judge's son, Sam, Jr., gave them a thumbs up as his father opened the door.
"Thank the ghost of Rin Tin Tin," Bear sighed.
As they exited the office, Finch whispered to the blinking camera on the wall. "Please erase this entire conversation. If Grace or Joss ever saw this, it would give them immediate grounds for an annulment."
"Where are they?" Reese asked.
"Outside." Young Sam had a dreamy look on his face. "I can't wait 'til I'm old enough to take Auto Shop - Miss Carter is the bomb."
The Cafeteria Lady raised an eyebrow. "That's Mrs. Reese, Sam."
Sam winked. "Not yet." He scooted down the hall and into the main sanctuary.
Judge Gates watched his son disappear. "You know, I was a basket case on my wedding day. I couldn't believe that Elizabeth would ever even look at me, much less fall in love with me and want me to be her husband – I mean, who was I, a dock worker's son from South Boston – in law school, my nickname was DLG – Dumpy, Lumpy and Grumpy, and Elizabeth was…" he looked off into the distance, "brilliant and brave and beautiful. I kept thinking it was all a dream and that she'd realize what a mistake she was making and not show up at the church. But she did – she married me and gave me the greatest gift of all, our son, who," the Judge said with a wistful smile, "has just fallen for a brilliant and brave and beautiful woman."
Reese clasped the Judge's arm. "He has great taste, Judge."
The Judge nodded. "Yes, he does. Come greet your guests."
XXX
"He'd be proud of us, Toni."
"Yeah, I think he would, Jossy."
The two women stood in front of a small bronze plaque embedded on the spot where Elias had died on the stone plaza.
Leaning down, Joss took a flower from the ring of blossoms around Antonia's neck. She wound it around a flower from her bouquet and then laid them on the plaque.
They then turned to Grace, who had been standing several feet away. She smiled. "Ready, Joss?"
Joss smiled back. "You bet. Let's go get married."
Arm in arm, they entered the chapel.
XXX
Every seat in the Machine High chapel was full, and anyone who couldn't find a seat squeezed into the alcoves in the back of the room. It was cool, and while clouds were reluctant to give up their dominance in the morning sky as they hovered over the chapel's glass roof, the June day promised to be sunny and warm.
The school choir had sung a selection of classic Motown hits and Detective Kane sang a soaring rendition of Johnny Mathis' Wonderful! Wonderful!, as Joss and Grace walked down the aisle with their maid of honor, Antonia, leading the way.
Sometimes we walk hand in hand by the sea
And we breathe in the cool salty air
You turn to me with a kiss in your eyes
And my heart feels a thrill beyond compare
Reese and Finch stood straight and tall in their hand tailored tuxedos and Bear added to the sartorial splendor with his jaunty bow tie.
The world is full of wondrous things, it's true
But they wouldn't have much meaning without you
All three men stood there, stunned, their eyes filling with tears as the three women approached,
Antonia's sleek dark fur set off perfectly by a wreath of white flowers around her neck, while Joss and Grace wore simple white gowns, a hint of pink in the fabric highlighting Joss' glowing dark skin and Grace's bright red hair.
And I say to myself
"It's wonderful, wonderful
Oh, so wonderful, my love"
As Detective Kane's last notes faded in the air, the brides took their places next to their grooms, and Judge Gates stepped forward.
"This is a day of firsts for me. I've been a judge for many years and I've handed down a lot of life sentences, but this is the first time," Judge Gates smiled at the two couples, "where these life sentences are happy ones, and the only tears that will be shed today, are tears of joy. Finding that one person who connects you to the world isn't easy, but when you do…" he smiled at his son Sam, "you understand what life is all about."
As they listened to the Judge, Travis McGrady put his arm around his wife Lisa's shoulders, Dr. Madeline Enright squeezed her wife Amy's hand and Daniel and Sabrina Drake, under the watchful eye of a burly police officer, clinked their electronic monitoring ankle bracelets together, then smiled at each other.
"This is also," the Judge opened a slim volume, "the first time I've officiated a wedding, well, in fact two weddings. Since we have two couples getting married together, why stop there?" he joked. "Anyone want to join them?"
There was laughter and some groans from the crowd, and then a hush as Bear's low voice cut across the open space. "Antonia, will you be my mate?"
Every head turned to look at the sleek dog.
There was a long silence, then finally Antonia said, "Wow."
"Is that – good?" the Judge asked.
Joss wiped away a tear. "Yes, very good!" She kissed the top of Antonia's head. "This was the best wedding gift you could have given me, Toni."
"Good, 'cause I didn't get you anything." Winking at Joss, she went and stood next to Bear.
Judge Gates nodded. "Okay, well, we've got three couples now. Why stop there? Anybody else?"
Zoe turned to Fusco. "Whattya say, toots?"
The Counselor shifted in the pew. "Toots? Don't you want somethin' a little more classy and romantic? Ya know – me on bended knee, all of that stuff women like?"
"Lionel, our first date was a 12 pack and the back seat of your car. I spend most of my days listening to a lot of empty speeches from empty people. I don't need that 'stuff' when I go home. I want real talk from a real man. I want you." She purred in his ear, "And I prefer you on your knees for other things."
Fusco took her hand. "Let's do it."
They stood up and joined the other couples.
There was a rustling from the back and three people, dressed in black from head to toe, walked to the front of the chapel.
"You three seem rather solemn – is there a problem?" the Judge asked.
Nurse Shaw smirked. "I'm Sameen, he's Peter, she's Samantha – you can call us a 'Sam-wich' – we want to get married, too."
Ms. Groves tilted her head at the other woman. "Are you sure, Sam? You did spend every night last week at the Slurphy Murphy Revue."
"Yeah, I'm sure." Her eyes slid towards Joss and Grace, who were studiously ignoring her. "Just think of it as the world's longest bachelorette party. Had to get it out of my system."
Collier cleared his throat. "You might want to put the drink down then."
"Huh? Oh, yeah." Making a loud sucking sound, the Nurse drained her autographed, limited edition Slurphy Murphy tumbler and set the container on the floor.
"Alright," taking a deep breath, the Judge looked around the chapel. "Anybody else?"
"Back here – we all don't move so fast, you know." Offering his arm to a deeply tanned woman with an alarming shade of yellow hair, Lou Mitchell escorted her to the front of the chapel.
"Making another gamble, Lou?" Harold smiled at the old card shark.
"Naw, this one's a sure bet, Harold, but," he looked at the assembled humans and dogs, "there are 13 of us up here. Let's 'hit' one more time."
"Okay, for the last time, anybody else?" Judge Gates asked.
Several members of the crowd, including the Machine High football team, frowned as the next couple, uninvited guests, came forward.
"Stop fussing, Maxine," Nicholas Donnelly, still in a variety of casts and slings, maneuvered his wheelchair to the front of the chapel, with Maxine Angelis hovering behind him.
"I guess we shoulda seen this coming when she kept pushing for that scrimmage in the press. You two have been workin' together all along," Fusco noted sagely.
"We're a team. And don't think that Nicky's injuries or our recent 'collaboration' in the press means we won't be coming after you all again," the reporter said smugly.
Zoe shot daggers at her. "Next time we'll say 'stand' instead of 'hit' when there's a good story, Lax Max. You're not the only reporter in town."
"True. There are better reporters, more ethical reporters than me. But I always get the front page, Ho-e, I mean, Zoe. And that's all that matters." The reporter bumped her shoulder against the Liaison as she guided Donnelly's wheelchair into the group, narrowly avoiding Bear's tail, but then pulled it back when Antonia gave her a particularly murderous glare.
Finch raised an eyebrow. "An unethical, bottom feeding, swarmy journalist and an obsessed, rigid, apparently obtuse football coach?" he leaned over and whispered to Reese, as Maxine fluttered her lashes at Fusco, who looked like he had just bitten into a lemon and turned his face away from her.
"Sounds like a match made in…hell," Reese smirked. "The Machine better put their Social Security numbers on speed dial."
Collier walked over the Judge and whispered in his ear, while casting suspicious glances at the other couples.
"Yes…I suppose that would be prudent…Mr. Collier has suggested that I ask this question before we get underway: If there's anyone who has just cause as to why this- why any of these weddings should not take place, speak now or forever hold your peace."
"Yeah, all the hot babes are taken. This wedding is a bust!"
Shaking his head and muttering to himself, Leon Tao walked out.
"Okay…Dearly beloved –"
Joss held up her hand. "Stop, Judge. I'm sorry."
Crinkling her brow, she shook her head at Reese. "This…just isn't right."
The Cafeteria Lady's heart dropped to his feet as stared at her. "J-Joss?"
Handing her bouquet to Grace, the Auto Shop teacher reached up, undid Reese's tie and tossed it aside. She then opened his collar, her slender fingers lingering on his throat, then Joss stepped back, giving the Cafeteria Lady a curt little nod.
"Go ahead, Judge," Joss said with a soft smile, as she took her bouquet back from the artist.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to unite…everyone…finally, in holy matrimony…"
The sun parted the clouds and shone down on the Machine High chapel, bathing them all in a warm, golden light.
XXX
After the ceremony, Peter Collier made a face as he walked outside, hand in hand with his two wives.
"What's wrong, Peter?" Samantha asked.
"I don't know…" he said. "I feel…happy."
Sameen smiled, a rare, true smile. "You'll get used to it."
XXX
After a raucous reception at the Coronet Hotel featuring Finch Frangelico Fizzies, Grace Grappa Granitas and Joss and John Jumbo Jello Shots, everyone departed for their honeymoons:
Finch and Grace took a whirlwind trip to Florence, where they enjoyed a private tour of the Uffizi, and then instead of attaching a lock to the Ponte Vecchio, Grace did a watercolor of their hands entwined on the old bridge.
Bear and Antonia went to Washington, DC. They were given a special behind the scenes tour of the White House by the Malinois members of the Secret Service detachment there, including many of the secret passageways and hidden corridors. They were delighted to find out that the First Dog was also an elite canine, and the newlyweds spent a romantic, but understandably howl free night in the Lincoln Bedroom.
Fusco and Zoe went to Atlanta. The Counselor burst into tears as his new wife, drawing on her connections, gave him the ultimate wedding gift: ushered through security that heads of state would be jealous of, Fusco was allowed to see what few ever had – the secret formula to his most effective therapeutic beverage, Coca Cola.
The Collier-Groves-Shaws refused to tell anyone where they spent their honeymoon, but their neighbors were pleased to see flowering bushes and delicate vines replacing many of the prickly, spiky plants in their yard.
Lou and his bride flew to Las Vegas, where after winning a considerable amount of money, he was promptly banned from all the casinos.
After receiving a surprise invitation, Maxine and Donnelly flew to Chicago.
XXX
A few hours outside the city, two sleek black motorcycles roared to a stop at a former private airport.
"Oh, John, this is perfect!" Joss slowly turned in a circle as she took in the quiet cove, the marshes teeming with wildlife and the airplane hangar with the attached office. "How did you find this?"
"It's ours, Joss."
"Ours?"
"I bought it several years ago, and now," he shrugged, looking at her shyly, "it's ours."
She opened her mouth, as if to protest, but Reese shook his head. "Joss, you're my wife – it's ours."
A small smile curved across her lips. "Show me around."
They stowed their bikes and gear in a small shed, then Reese led her inside. The former waiting room had been converted into a simple, but well equipped kitchen. Joss ran her hands over an old blackboard, once used to note arrivals and departures, now covered with the Cafeteria Lady's cramped scrawl as he crafted new recipes. One of the former offices served as a living room and the manager's office was the bedroom, with a breathtaking view of the water. A small bath led to an outdoor shower.
The Auto Shop teacher's eyes glowed with her approval. "We can read, relax, think – focus on each other. I love the mansion, but –"
"I know. It could get a little crazy when it was just me, Finch and Bear. With three couples there…we can come here when we need to get away."
Taking her hand, Reese led her towards the attached hangar. Before he opened the door, he placed his other hand over her eyes, then gently guided her forward.
"John…"
The space was full of motorized vehicles. There were cars and motorcycles, scooters and golf carts, vans and a mini bus, an ice cream truck and even a hearse. Some were pristine, others needed work, but each was unique, each had to a story to tell her.
Reese enjoyed the sway of her hips and how the motorcycle leathers curved around her luscious bottom as she darted from vehicle to vehicle, but it was her laughter and exclamations of delight that truly captivated him. "There are so many of them!"
"One for every day, until school starts."
Joss sauntered over to him. "And what do you expect us to do with them, Mr. Reese?"
"Try them out, Mrs. Reese, take them for rides, make sure they're fully operational," his long fingers curled around a lock of her hair, "especially in the areas of leg room and…comfort."
"Oh…I can see how those two things would be important." Her big brown eyes suddenly grew serious. "What if they need us? What if there's a Number?"
Reese pressed a large round button on the wall. The main door to the hangar opened, revealing the gleaming helicopter that Reese, Finch and Bear had used to fly to Machine High the night Joss uncovered Quinn's plot. "We can get back in minutes."
She grinned from ear to ear. "I wanna learn how to fly this!"
"You will, Joss. Later…much, much, later."
He led her outside, past the helicopter.
"No…."
"Finch had an unfortunate encounter with a Number named Jordan Hester a while back. She slipped him some Ecstasy; Bear and I got to him in time, but not before he ordered this on eBay."
A restored 1967 VW Bus sat on the tarmac, covered with psychedelic images, the swirling colors shimmering in the afternoon sun.
Reese opened the side doors and Joss pushed the curtain of beads aside.
There was a thickly tufted red velvet mattress on the floor. A collection of soft pillows and a paisley coverlet were scattered across it and particularly interesting looking swing hung towards the back.
Joss laughed out loud. "A Love Machine from the Summer of Love***! Harold must have died when he realized what he ordered!"
"He was mortified; he wanted to send it back immediately, but I…" Reese's ears turned red, "I thought…someday…you might like it."
Joss' voice was soft. "I do, John. Very much."
The world went away as they gazed into each other's eyes.
"I love you, Joss."
"I love you, John."
Reese cupped her face in his large hands and kissed her. "I'm glad we decided to wait."
Joss sighed as he ran his thumbs along her cheekbones. "It wasn't easy. I dreamt about being with you every night."
The Cafeteria Lady nodded. "And I took an ocean of cold showers. But, being together, for the first time, as husband and wife…"
"I know." Joss stepped away from him and jumped into the bus. "But we don't need to wait any longer."
Reese scrambled up behind her. "Doors open or closed, Joss?" he said, with a wolfish smile.
Her smile was full of love and promises. "Oh, open, John. There's nobody around for miles."
XXX
"You never did tell me what you did last night, Joss."
Hours later, Reese ran his hand slowly along his wife's gleaming naked body.
Joss arched into his touch. "I had a meeting with Logan Pierce downtown. He wants to give the extra funds he had planned for FQ's automotive department to Machine High." She smiled at his raised eyebrow. "I know he's a bit of a character, so I told him we'd think about it. We've already had one billionaire with ulterior motives, I'm not sure if we're ready for another."
"No trips to St. Petersburg?"
"He tried. Apparently, they're doing some interesting things there with alternative fuels. Maybe later this summer." She smirked at him. "He said you could come with us."
"I know our vows said 'for better, for worse', Joss, but there are limits," Reese smirked.
Joss chuckled, then sighed as he kissed her. "I like sticking with the 'better' stuff, John."
Reese's lips trailed along her throat. "Me, too…" The Cafeteria Lady suddenly raised his head. "Downtown? Pierce owns a lot of properties downtown, including where the Slurphy Murphys per –"
The Auto Shop teacher rolled away from him, pulled on her long black boots, and slipped out of the bus.
"I'm thirsty, John." Reese watched, mesmerized, as his wife, naked except for those black boots, stood in the glow of a gigantic full moon shining on the open water.
She headed towards the hangar, then looked back with a bewitching smile. "Coming, Mr. Reese?"
Reese closed his mouth, put on his boots and leapt after her.
"Always, Mrs. Reese. Always."
*From the Carl Sandburg poem, Chicago: He described the city as "Hog Butcher for the World/Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat/Player with Railroads and the Nation's Freight Handler/Stormy, Husky, Brawling, City of the Big Shoulders."
**The Chicago Cubs baseball team haven't won a World Series since 1908.
***1967 was noted as the Summer of Love, when thousands of young people descended on San Francisco.
A/N: There were a number of folks mentioned in this chapter: Kara Stanton, of course and Brian Moss, who is one of the few folks in this story who had the same profession as he had on the show.
There was some speculation that Dominic had attended one of Finch's classes in the episode, 2Pi-R, and even though I think he would have been way too old to be in Finch's class, it was interesting to think of him as a brilliant student, deploying his 'troops' on a different field of battle, and giving him the last name of Fraternite, was a bit of fun. Caleb Phipps was the POI in Finch's class and Malcolm Booker was the young man who Reese helped along with his sister Tracie in the episode Brotherhood.
A story like this had to have Leon Tao in it, and Monica Jacobs from the episode Trojan Horse, was one of my favorite POIs, so I had to mention her.
The other coaches, Terney, Lynch, and the Yogorovs were all crooks of some sort, so having them sitting together seemed apt.
Greer and Rousseau = Grousseau? That took me by surprise, and I wrote it!
Judge Gates and his son, Sam, were in the episode Judgment and Lou Mitchell and his bride were part of the group of seniors in All In. Dr. Enright and her wife were in Critical and the Drakes were the battling couple in 'Til Death.
Maxine and Donnelly? Poor Donnelly, but the thought of seeing Maxine with the initials MAD as his wife was too good to pass up.
Jim Caviezel has been noted as a lover of Motown and he was spotted at a Johnny Mathis concert a year or so ago, so I included those songs in the wedding ceremony.
Jordan Hester was the POI in Identity Crisis.
PS – So, did Joss and Grace watch the Slurphy Murphy revue the night before the wedding? Joss managed to sidestep that question for now, but I bet her new husband will find out, eventually!
Next, the final chapter, Baby Blue.