So fun to be back! Thanks for all the amazing reviews, story follows, and favorites-i'm so glad you still like this story!

Flashback

"I need five, Nell," she told her supervisor, barely keeping it together.

"I don't like you going out on the roof, baby. No place for a lady at 2am. Go take care of Lockdown. No one will bother you and you can take all the time you need in there."

She nodded, work was the last thing she wanted to do at the moment. Though she realized it was better than endlessly crying at a place that wasn't even home. She had been smart enough not to call in sick. She reminded herself that for a summer job, she could do worse. An entry level position in a field she loved was where everyone had to start.

Ugh, Lockdown. Her tasks there were simple enough, but she doubted she could keep it together long enough to get past security without a breakdown.

She approached the FBI agent guarding the room and held out her badge. He was the same one who guarded this room on her shift last night. Nice enough, but right now she wasn't in the mood to continue their peppy conversation about the Sharks. He could tell and let her pass without a greeting.

As the door shut behind her, she relaxed. She could finally be alone with the grief she kept at bay since arriving to the hospital tonight seven hours ago. Well, almost.

Tears poured down silently as she checked the unconscious patient's vital signs. Blood pressure, stable. Oxygen level, stable. Heart rate, stable. But Nell could see all of this from the nurses' station.

His left arm was restrained above his head which made checking the level of blood tinged fluids still seeping from his chest tube easy. She blew her nose, washed her hands, then put on gloves before removing the bandage surrounding this entry point into his chest cavity. No infection she needed to make note of. She recorded his urine output on the post-it note from her scrubs pocket and made to empty the bag when she could have sworn he moved.

Impossible. Though the doctors had to balance his pain meds and his respiratory function carefully, he was still going to be out of it for the next day or so, she had been assured. After she finished the task, she washed her hands again and finally looked at him.

So young. Everyone said he was supposed to be really handsome, but besides the toned body she couldn't see it. The bruises that covered him, especially his swollen eyes and nose marred him horribly and looked worse today than yesterday. Looking at him, she realized she should be thankful her troubles were so minimal.

But damn if a broken heart didn't feel like he looked.

Again, she felt that internal tremble. The kind that came right before crying. These would be no silent tears. She collapsed into the chair beside her patient and began to sob. Ugly, miserable wailing escaped from behind her hands for the next ten minutes.

"Ronnie, don't cry. I'm okay," she heard weakly from the bed beside her.

Instantly, she sobered up and wiped her face and nose on the mounds of Kleenex she held in each hand.

That couldn't have come from him, could it? As she stood to look at the patient, he spoke again, "Don't cry, Ronnie, please."

"Hey," she said soothingly. "You're awake."

"Ronnie?" he asked groggily.

"He went home."

The man laying before her ad a look of confusion in his eyes.

"It's not his fault. Your nurse, Nell, actually made him. Don't be mad, he should be back in the morning. He's been with you the whole time. How are you feeling?"

"Alive," he said with a raspy throat. "Do you know….anything?"

"About why the FBI brought you into the ER and why they've been standing guard for the past two days? No. But they said you're a good guy. Nothing we need to worry about."

"Why am I here?"

"Besides the broken ribs that caused your lung to collapse? No reason," she said finally giving him a smile.

"You're pretty," he mused.

"I'm CJ, you're nurse's assistant. If you're waking up, I've gotta tell you: Don't struggle. You've got a chest tube and an IV. Your hands are tied down to keep you safe, okay?"

"Pretty CJ tied me to the bed, huh?" he said, trying to smile but hurting his face with the effort.

"Yep. Trying to make your boyfriend Ronnie jealous," she teased.

At this, he tried to sit up and look at her, but CJ gently pushed him back down.

"Don't struggle. Just relax. Hold on one second," she said as she hit the call button.

"You okay in there, CJ?," came Nell's voice on a speaker, " Did he make a mess? Don't try to roll him on your own again, you hear!"

"I'm okay," she said to the speaker. "Get the agent and call his doctor, Nell. Logan Echolls is awake."

Odd mid-story A/N: That flashback was not planned, but reading all of your thoughtful reviews made me realize I should let you in on Celia and Logan's origin story sooner rather than later. BUT mine is a free country, so hate her if you want! Things to remember: 1. Dick said Logan had been celibate for months (chpt 15) 2. Logan and Veronica are epic, and you don't trifle with epic. 3. I love Wallace far too much for his true love to be Logan's sloppy seconds. (Piz on the other hand…) Sorry to break story, but (hopefully) you won't care much about Celia by the end of this chapter!

"I've got Thai!" Mac announces loudly as she knocks on the door to his hotel suite.

Dick opens the door and looks at her glumly. "I thought we were celebrating," he greets her.

She looks confused at his mood. "Yeah. We are. What's your problem?"

Dick looks at her and shrugs noncommittally. Like a jackass, she thinks.

"I got us dinner to celebrate. The likelihood that all of both of our medical tests would be completely negative is unbelievable, Dick." She hands a bag to him as she puts down her purse and starts to unpack the remaining take out bag in her hand.

She sees his smile for the first time that day. "Unbelievable? Or lucky?" he asks her with a tight grin.

"I'm not following."

"We're 20 years old! Your idea of celebrating is bringing me veggie filled take out? What's next? Scrabble?"

"Fine! We'll go out," then she mumbled, "ungrateful diva."

He chuckled at her trademark surly nature. "No can do, Mackie. Look at what you're wearing."

She looked down at her tattered jeans, black tee shirt, and Chuck Taylors. "What? Now you're the fashion police? This is what I always wear. If you're going to act like an 09er snob, I'll find some other friends to hang out with tonight." Mac said, getting more upset than she would prefer. She started to shove the food back into the bag.

Dick reached out for her arm. "Sorry," he said seriously meeting her eyes. "Really, I am."

"What's your problem?" Mac asked again, not looking at him and crossing her arms over her chest self-consciously.

"Nothing. I like what you wear—I do. I just thought we were going out out tonight."

She balked. Did he think they were going on a date? Mac tried to replay the phone conversation they had earlier in the day. All she remembered was being happy both their tests were negative and agreeing to meet him here later. There was that bit where Dick was plotting Max's death thinking B12 deficiency was an STD, but she cleared that up quickly. She would have remembered if he asked her out; of course she would have.

"What?" she asked quietly, still avoiding his eyes.

He sighed dramatically. "Can you just relax for one night and let me plan something fun?"

"Can I wear what I want?" she shot back.

He laughed. "Yeah, babe. Wear whatever you want."

"Fine then."

"What?" Dick asked with enthusiasm.

"I said, 'fine.' Whatever you want . "

"Really? Anything goes?" he asked gleefully.

"Why do I feel like I'm missing something?"

"'Cause you are, Mackie. 'Cause you are." When she looked like she was going to ask a follow up question, he held up a finger and made a call.

"Jinx! 'Sup Dude?... Up for some fun tonight?...Yeah, man. You know me… You're bringing the brains, right?...Awesome….Yeah, I've got a plus one too….." he smiles over at Mac, "oh yeah, a total hottie…."she blushed and smacked his chest and he laughed. "I'm getting in the car right now. 6 o'clock sound good? Dude, I love that you are always down to party!..." he laughed again. "Yeah, Jinx, I'll set all that up right now. Race you there!"

"Dick, what the hell?" Mac asked when he hung up the phone. She was grinning curiously. Looks like it wasn't a date.

"Nope. You agreed! You said 'Whatever you want!'"

"You're going to throw that in my face all night, aren't you?"

"Bank on it. C'mon! We gotta' hustle!"

"I'm putting these spring rolls in your fridge!" she yells at him as he runs into his bedroom.

"No Mac," he said emerging with his wallet and a fancy wrist watch. He notices her perplexed look. "Take 'em. You'll want them." Dick laughs freely. "This is gonna' be a great night!"

In the Jeep, Mac was catching Dick's infectiously happy mood. He found some fun music and they were laughing as he peeled out of the parking lot. She was twenty. A stress free celebration may be just what the doctor ordered.

He took out his phone to make another call while he drove.

Before he called, he looked at Mac and said, "You promised. Don't back out. Whatever you hear."

She looked at him curiously, but her silly grin faded when she heard him on the phone.

"Suze! Hey babe, Dick Casablancas here….."he laughed and Mac silently fumed. "Yeah girl, I've missed you too. I'm coming to see you tonight though." Even in the open air Jeep with music blaring, Mac could hear the girl on the other end of the phone squeal in delight.

What have I gotten myself into?

"Should be there right around eight," he was telling the girl.

What are we going to do with this girl at 8? Mac thought to herself as she crossed her arms and turned away from Dick.

"Nope, Logan's staying home…..I'll tell him…OH YEAH….Maybe a 6 or so."

She catches him sneak a glance over at her. "Uh, I'd say a little punk, but y'know, classy too." He smiled at her and Mac blushes again, not knowing why. Dick's eyes are on the road when he says, "Probably a 34 B."

"What are you telling her?" Mac asks in a high pitched voice, having no idea why Dick is discussing bra sizes. Her bra size. How does he even know my bra size?

"Oh, I don't know…lemme ask her," he tells the woman on the phone. "Hey Mac, what size shoes do you wear?"

"So you are talking about me! Dick, what does it matter?"

"Don't be difficult, Mackie," he teased.

"Seven," she grumbled.

"Suzie, she says seven, but she doesn't really like heels. " Mac smiled that he remembered. "Blue. Definitely blue," Dick continued to tell her. "Aw babe, you know me, I don't care about that stuff…." Mac heard them both laugh. "Right, right. Whatever you pick always looks good….Hey now, you're making me blush….Find someplace with good vegan food, okay?" he laughed "of course not!...yeah, but um," he started whispering now, "not the usual, okay? Just get the same as when I come with Logan." Mac heard the girl gasp and laugh and Dick stole another glance at her. "No comment," he said with a smile and the girl continued to laugh. "Jinx and the braintrust are coming too—yeah, whatever they usually like. Okay, Suze, I've gotta' go. Do your magic!...Yeah, I can't wait to see you either. Later!"

Dick hung up and turned to Mac, all smiles. "Mackie, it's all set!"

"Who was that?" she asked coolly. When Dick hesitated at her tone, she said, "and why does she need to know my bra size?"

"You want one that fits, right?" he asked, choosing to be amused instead of worried.

"I'm wearing one that fits, thank you very much. I thought you said I didn't have to change clothes?"

"You don't. But we're not coming back until tomorrow, so I thought you might want options."

"Tomorrow! But we have finals next week!"

"Yeah, next week. Tests don't start 'til Tuesday and it's only Friday. You'll do fine—even if you don't study."

"Will you?"

"Oh, huh, I didn't think about that."

"Exactly! You didn't think!"

"How about this: I show you a good time tonight and Sunday you help me study, okay? Can you please forget school for one day?"

"Whatever, Dick," she said staring away from him, but then she chuckled to herself. "You know my bra size, but had to ask my shoe size?"

He took her lightened mood as consenting to his plan. "What can I say? I'm not a foot guy."

Her jaw dropped at the implications of that sentence, but before she could reply, he announced, "We're here!"

Mac looked around. It didn't look like they were anywhere she recognized. "Where's here?"

"Neptune International Airport."

"Oh jeez. Do I need a passport?"

It wasn't so much an airport as it was an airstrip surrounded by airplane hangars of the wealthy. Dick pulled up next to a large metal building and proceeded to lead her to a small but beautiful private jet where a man was lowering a staircase.

"Jinx! Hey Man! Ready to party?" Dick asked the man in the airplane.

"Always ready," said the middle aged, clean-cut man.

"That's his motto," a intimidating lovely woman said dryly from behind him, as Dick and Mac made their way into the plane.

"And who is this?" the man asked Dick motioning to Mac.

"This is Mac. Mac Mackenzie," Dick beamed proudly.

Mac smiled at the man and he said, "I'm Carter Jenkins and this is my wife Denise."

"Nice to meet you. So is one of you the pilot?"

"I am," said Mr. Jenkins.

"Jinx is an awesome pilot and Mrs. Jinx is a brain like you, Mackie."

They all laughed at Dick. "What do you do Mrs. Jenkins?"

"Well, when I'm not being summoned on the whims of a teenager, I work in statistics."

"Honey," Mr. Jenkins said, "You know you love these spur of the moment getaways."

"I do," she patted Dick's shoulder affectionately as he sat down in a luxurious leather chair. She motioned for Mac to take a seat as well. "Spontaneity is the spice of life."

"That's what I hear," said Mac. "So where are we headed?"

The Jenkins looked surprised. Jinx said to Dick, "You haven't told her yet?"

"Nah. Hey Mackie, what do you know about blackjack?"

Over an hour later, Mac reclines in her lavishly upholstered seat flying high above the world. She finished off a few of her spring rolls after getting an impromptu lesson in blackjack from Dick and Denise Jenkins. Dick declined the food, telling her they'll be eating like kings soon enough and not to spoil her appetite, but she was starving! Mrs. Jenkins seemed pleased (and surprised) Dick's guest was so interested in the game and, honestly, so down to earth. Mrs. Jenkins eventually picks up in the cabin, then joins her husband in the cockpit.

Then it hits Mac. She is on a trip—an overnight trip, essentially alone, with Dick Casablancas. A smile creeps onto her face as she watches the sun going down outside her cold round window. Maybe this is their time…

"You look happy," Dick said, moving from his seat across the aisle to one right next to Mac.

"We're going to Las Vegas," Mac told him, goofy smile in place.

He chuckled at her enthusiasm. "Beats the hell out of scrabble."

She looks at him earnestly and reaches up to kiss his temple.

"What was that for?" he whispers, uncharacteristically.

"I'm in a plane and I'm going to a city," she whispers back. Happy that he knows her so well: that she needs a little fun, that she desires to travel but never seems to have the money or time to do it, that she's never been in an airplane only traveling with her family by RV. "Thank you, Dick."

"You ain't seen nothin' yet, Mackie," he tells her quietly as he stops himself from stroking her face or her hair. He wants to show her his feelings are beyond friendship, but he's terrified of scaring her away. Tonight, he vows, as they descend.

The limousine that met the couple at the airport was built to impress. Mac had never been in such an extravagant vehicle, save the plane she just exited. They were ushered inside and Dick immediately found the champagne as they headed to their yet to be discussed destination. The remainder of the flight had been excited conversation about all there was to see and do in Vegas as well as a pact to turn off their cell phones for the night. The Jenkins, Mac was told, had to do some checks and maintenance with the plane, but they would be headed to a fun night soon enough.

"What should we toast to?" he asked, handing her a full glass.

"How about to an unforgettable night?" He thought she was mocking his suggestion they toast with a cheesy line, until he saw her expression. Mac actually looked bashful as she raised her glass to his.

"To an unforgettable night," he murmured, eyes wide with realization.

They drank and then Dick asked, "So you're not even going to bust my chops about all this? Vegas? The private jet? A limo?"

"Why would I bust your chops? I'm getting to come along on your weekend indulgence. I'm not your parent and I'm not your accountant."

"That's exactly what I mean . You don't think I'm throwing away my money? Going overboard?"

Mac turns her head toward the man seated beside her. "Dick, I know you. You hardly spend a dime on anything that isn't take-out related. Even if you did, you've got more money than time left alive to spend it. And you're right we're twenty. Let's be irresponsible for 24 hours. Who cares?"

"Yes!" he laughs.

"What?"

"The initial stage of your weekend corruption is complete!"

She's laughing too now. "What? The money is no object thing? I kinda' had to throw the 'we're going halvsies plan' out the window when we pulled up to the jet."

"Yeah that too, but I'm more excited about hearing you say you're finally going to be irresponsible. Kinda' gives a guy like me better odds," he finishes with a flirtatious smirk.

Mac thinks back to her toast. So you were paying attention. "That's what Denise said, wasn't it?"

"What?"

"That this town is all about playing the odds," she counters with a challenging, enticing look of her own.

Damn, he thinks, his mind momentarily blanking on everything else.

"Too bad you're not old enough to drink or gamble in this town," she continues. "We could've had some fun. Only one of us has a Mars-original fake ID."

"Look who's a bad girl now," he praises. "Here's the thing," he whispers conspiratorially, "I may not have a fake from Tinkerbell, but even she'd be impressed at the quality ID one can acquire with enough cash. There are two things you need to know about me & Las Vegas, Mackie. Money talks and this ain't my first rodeo."

The limousine weaves through the beautiful, electric streets and parks at The Palms, a ridiculously large and lavish casio-resort. The car door is opened by an attendant and a gorgeous blond is waiting for them as they exit.

"Dick!" The curvy and petite young woman exclaims as he emerges. They hug and Dick turns to Mac.

"Mac this is Suzie, Suzie Mac. She's my—our—connection in this town. Anything you want, and she can make it happen."

"Wow, okay, I need one of you back at home," Mac said, realizing afterwards this was neither funny nor a good introduction. All she could think about was how wrong, in theory, a low cut orange skirt suit sounded, but how unbelievably good it looked on this perfect woman.

"Very nice to meet you Mac," Suzie said with an extended hand. Shaking her hand made Mac see in comparison how monumentally underdressed she was for going out out. "I want this to be a great experience for you. Anything you need or that I can do for you, please let me know right away."

Ugh, and she had to be mature and nice too.

"Would you like to freshen up before dinner?" Suzie asked looking at both of them.

Dick's reply of "Of course, lead the way," seem rehearsed to Mac. We don't need her to show us to our room, she thought.

As the trio made their way through the resort, Suzie was giving a tour of sorts. Explaining to Mac where the casino, restaurants, pools, gym, and spa were located. Mac was listening half-heartedly. She was enjoying taking it all in for herself and Dick was enjoying watching her.

The suite was like nothing Mac had ever seen before. It was nicer than her parents' house, more extravagant that Madison's. The ceilings were tall and the walls were dark. Everything was black or chrome apart from the hardwood floors. Neon light fixtures hung above the cabinetry or parts of the recessed ceilings. The furniture was exquisite—much nicer than anything she'd ever seen in a hotel before. And the room they were standing in was huge! A pool table with black felt was off to one side of the living room area. At least 3 flat screen TVs were visible from the entryway.

"Dick, this place is unreal," Mac told him.

He was pleased she seemed so happy.

Suzie chimed in when he did not respond aloud. "Dick, I put some things for you in that bathroom," she pointed to one bedroom of the suite. "Mac, I'll help you get oriented in your room."

Mac was confused What's there to get oriented about?, but she followed Suzie to the far side of the hotel suite nonetheless. The bedroom she was led to was enormous and had a sleek, low lying bed and was furnished with a modern looking couch and strangely intriguing artwork. Suzie had apparently brought in a luggage rack with three dresses and a pile of shoes.

Mac gasped, "Are these for me to wear?" she asked, unbelievingly.

"Absolutely," Suzie replied, "Everything in this room and this bathroom is for you. Whatever you use or you like, Dick wants you to take home." Mac didn't like this, Suzie speaking for him. It rang of falseness or at least a pre-conceived plan that Mac was just the latest girl to be part of.

"Listen, maybe Dick's had you do this for him a few times with other girls, but you don't have to lay it on thick for me. He's my friend. Like Logan. I know you don't give Logan this same kind of treatment when he comes here."

"Of course not," Suzie said, finally with a bit of a personality, "Logan's ten times more picky than any other guest they've brought."

Mac smirked at this. "You don't have to wear any of these, Mac. They're just here if you want options. But this stuff," Suzie said walking into the bathroom, "I'm pretty sure you're going to like."

Mac walked into the large bright bathroom to find the girliest girl's dream: an Ulta store on the bathroom counters. Skin and hair care products abounded. There were the basics: toothbrushes, toothpaste, deodorant, razors, hairspray, but also several dozen types of perfumes and cosmetics all laid out for her perusal. Almost every inch of the huge counter was covered.

"Ooohhh," Mac cooed, "Okay, this is cool."

"I've also got a curling iron and a straightener plugged in for you. The hairdryer is in the cabinet along with an assortment of shampoos and lotions and the like in case you want to get a shower. Let's take another look at the dresses, okay?"

"You couldn't find any pants, huh?" Mac mumbled quietly.

"For those legs, no way," Suzie replied.

Damn it, Mac thought when she found herself thinking this girl was okay.

The dresses were all exquisite. Each was a different blue. Her favorite shade, the bright azure dress, was dismissed immediately. She loved the slightly puffy skirt but the dip down the center went clear to waist and left very little to the imagination in the bust. The midnight dress was beautiful with black beading on the top, but essentially it was the size of a dinner napkin. Never in her life had Mac worn a strapless mini-dress, and she didn't plan on starting tonight. The primary perks of the silvery/cornflower dress were that she could wear her own underwear—the pile of designer knickers Suzie had on display on the dresser looked terrifying— and her body wouldn't be completely on display. It was slinky and soft, and she hoped it stretched because on the hanger it looked like she could barely fit her laptop in it. All three, however, looked better than the mess she was currently sporting next to Miss Perfection.

"I'm wearing this one," Mac said as she took the light blue dress off the hanger.

"You don't want to try them all on?" Suzie asked doing a good job at sounding only slightly disappointed.

"Nope. I know what I like," Mac said. "Well, thanks for your help, Suzie. These look great," she said hoping she would get the hint that she could do it alone from this point forward.

"Let me get out of your way, Mac," Suzie said sweetly, "I just have one more question. I'll drop off something for you to wear for tomorrow in the morning, but I'd also like to leave you something to go to bed in. Any requests? I have access to anything you can dream up, so being specific helps."

"Oh, um, anything is fine. Just a T-shirt and shorts or whatever."

Suzie gave her a look that for the first time tonight displayed they were on two completely different wavelengths. "No, and I know this is probably odd to talk about with a stranger, but I promise I'll be very discrete. For example, do you like teddys or baby dolls or just have a favorite color or style or anything?"

"Huh? OH! Wow, okay….Wow, I wasn't….yeah, I don't think I'll need anything like that tonight, but thanks, Suzie. All of this stuff looks great." Mac ushered her out of the room, embarrassed she was caught that off guard.

Shit, she thought picturing the mismatched bra and panties she had worn all day as she sat down on the bed, I didn't start off this day thinking I was going to be alone with Dick in a hotel after flirting for a couple of hours on a plane. I wonder if Suzie left a card…

Before Mac changed into her dress, curiosity got the better of her. She opened her bedroom door to listen and could hear Suzie and Dick talking in his room. Mac quietly snuck out of her room and tiptoed closer to his bedroom door. It sounded like they were in his bathroom.

"…like your cousin or something?"

"No, why would you say that?" she heard him ask.

"Since when do you get separate rooms with a girl?"

"Yeah, about that. Did you have to get the exact suite Logan and I get? Mac and I don't really need a pool table. It's too dark in here—she likes light." Mac was so surprised to hear Dick's observation. She thought this suite was fantastic, but he was right, she did like lighter colors generally.

"It's not like I had much to go on. You said get the same kind of suite as when he comes."

"I know, I know. This is great, actually. So, did she like what you picked?"

"I hope so. Tell me later. Thanks for letting me see my favorite part!"

"Please. The whole reason you have this job is for all the shopping, and I know you like seeing how people look in what you pick out."

Mac felt a little guilty for denying this nice girl the result of her work.

"I'll have the photographers come find you at dinner, so I'll see my finished product eventually By the way, you are looking sharp in this suit. Which tie?"

"Maybe the one with the purple stripes?"

"That'll look good. Plus it'll match her hair." Mac almost laughed at the thought of Dick wearing something to match her hair, but he didn't contradict Suzie.

"So this place for dinner?"

"It's on the 8th floor and I've got you reservations for 9pm."

"She'll like it?" He was adorable. Simply adorable.

"It's not completely vegetarian, but it's got the best vegan choices of all of our restaurants. I know you'll both find something you'll like."

"Great. Thanks, Suze."

"C'mere. Let me get this tie on you." At that, Mac left. Like always, she didn't like the idea of him getting close with other women. She snuck back in her own room and started to freshen up. She washed her face and put on some of her new fancy make up. She already liked the idea of taking all of this stuff home with her! The dress looked good, tight but in flattering not floozy way. When she saw her silhouette in the mirror, Mac was disappointed to find she needed to find less conspicuous underwear in Suzie's pile o' horror. But this dress was worth it. She liked the dip of the neck line in the front and the back as well as the length at her knees.

Mac finished straightening her hair and was about to line her eyes when she heard Dick in her room.

"Ya decent?" he asked, close to the open bathroom door.

"Yeah, come on in. Almost done," she said with some difficulty, nose almost touching the mirror, as she tries to maintain the facial contortions required to apply eyeliner.

"Damn."

Mac smiled at this but continued to look at the mirror and work on her mascara. "Don't primp so much and maybe you can catch a show next time."

"No—I mean, um, wow, I'll be holding you to that. But what I meant was, DAMN."

At this, she turned to him and all at once remembered her situation. This wasn't just her buddy Dick—this was Dick who she'd been crushing on for weeks and here she was with him—alone in Vegas, about to go out, dressed to kill, and he was obviously impressed with the way she looked. Mac felt ridiculous, peering over the sink to do her makeup—so much for any grand entrance— but the boy did not seem to mind. He was looking at her reverently slack jawed.

Despite his expression, Dick looked hot.

"Casablancas, you clean up nice," Mac said taking in his sleek gray suit, white shirt and silver tie with faint purple stripes. She hoped he saw her enthusiasm as cheeky but complimentary and not the pre-teen before a Beiber concert vibe she was suppressing.

Dick took a few steps toward her and suddenly the grandiose bathroom seemed a bit too small for both of them. "That's what I….I mean, I was trying….shit," he chastised himself before looking her square in the eye and saying, "Mac, you look fantastic."

Her instinct was to turn back to the mirror to try to see what on earth he was seeing, but she forced herself to look at him instead. Somehow the blush that zoomed onto her cheeks also quieted her, "Thank you," making her feel even more awkward.

"Did she show you the best part?" Dick said moving toward the closet.

Mac shrugged her shoulders. "I don't see how it can get better."

Dick put both hands on a large, heavy box and lowered it to the bathroom counter. He pulled back the lid to reveal a palate of jeweled necklaces, earrings, and bracelets.

"Ooohh," Mac said as she took in the onyx, diamonds, and pearls. Then she started to feel strange, angry even, about the whole evening. "You've kind of got a Pretty Woman theme going here tonight, huh Dick?"

"A what?"

"You know, girl from the wrong side of the tracks, dress her up, splash some jewels on her neck—"

"Do we even have tracks in Neptune?"

"You know what I mean. Anyway, it seems like a pretty practiced routine you and Suzie have worked out. You just happened to have a box full of jewelry in the closet that goes with each of these dresses that you come in here to show me? What number am I?"

"What are you talking about? Pretty Woman, tracks, numbers, I'm so lost, Mackie."

"I mean, what number am I? How many times have you brought a girl to this hotel and had Suzie-Wonderkin dress her up for you. Ask her about her shoe size and what kind of lingerie she'd like to wear for you later."

"She did not ask you that! Did she?" Dick asked, hands in his hair, eyes going back and forth between Mac's fierce glare and his shoes.

"Oh, she did all right. Don't worry—I think you'll be impressed with the corset and garters we picked out," she spit out.

"Shit, Mac, listen," Dick said stepping closer to her, but still looking flustered. "So the Palms is my place. I feel comfortable here. I've known Suzie for a long time. Usually she finds suits for me and Logan and yes I've brought girls here too. But she doesn't get that you and I…." he trails off. "I like it here because I don't have to plan stuff ahead of time and Suzie has good taste. But if this, if tonight, made you feel like a prostitute—"

"A WHAT?"

"Don't get mad! You're the one who brought up Pretty Woman! "

A small rueful smile crosses Mac's face. "You know the plot of Pretty Woman?"

"What? Julia Roberts is like a 20 year old hottie and she's a Hollywood Boulevard street walker! I had that movie memorized at twelve!"

She sighs, knowing he's telling the truth, like always. "I didn't think you were trying to buy my affection, if that's what you mean. I just…it's just you don't…." she becomes tongue tied. "Let's just go to dinner, okay?"

"Sure, Mackie," he said motioning to the necklaces again, letting the subject drop for the moment.

She looks up at him and points to a thin silver chain with a diamond encrusted horseshoe pendant. "For luck at the tables," she tells him.

He smiles at her simple choice and picks up the necklace. Mac turns toward the mirror and moves her hair to one side, offering to let him help her.

This gesture changes everything. Watching him standing behind her in the mirror becomes extremely intimate. She thinks about how cliché and backwards it is that women always let men do this—they have bigger hands, never know how the different clasps work—and yet the electricity she feels at brush of his hands on her neck and back tells her exactly why they do.

His task finished, Mac begins speaking again. "The point I was trying to make, Dick," she locks eyes with him in the mirror, both facing it, "is that this shouldn't be what you do. You're better than this. "

Dick quirks an eyebrow at this statement.

"I just mean, this shouldn't be your thing. This whisking a girl off to Las Vegas and giving her a personal attendant, clothes, jewelry, etcetera. You're the best guy ever—funny, charming, handsome. If I accidently witnessed one of your seduction techniques, I'm honestly disappointed. You don't need to rely on your money to impress some girl."

Dick waited a beat, locked eyes with mirror Mac and said, "Some girls are hard to get through to. How do you suggest I let some girl know I like her?"

Mac's eyes widened. Was he saying what she thinks he's saying? Yes. The light touch of his fingers tracing her exposed back erased any lingering doubt.

She let out the tiniest of gasps and bit her bottom lip mid-smile. Mac relished in the touch for a moment, mesmerized watching Dick's eyes move from his hand on her skin then up to her face in the mirror as his touch lingered. He looked as though he was suppressing a grin too.

Then Mac turned to face Dick, his hand at her waist now. "You just tell her," she said meeting his gaze. Her voice confident.

Dick beamed; he couldn't help it. He leaned into her and whispered. "Tell her?" he asked teasingly. "What if instead I'm really, really good at showing her?" His breath was hot on her neck, his hand tentatively at her waist, her hands rose to his chest.

"She might not think you're serious," Mac whispered back, daringly.

Dick pulled back and frowned as he whispered, "She should already know."

Mac smiled back at him reassuringly, "She can't be sure."

"You should be," he told her slightly above their whispers. "Sure, I mean."

Mac looks up at Dick and he smiles, nervous as he's ever been but trying not to show it.

She wastes no time in standing on her tiptoes to kiss him lightly, but the electricity is back and both are surprised at the passion her lips on his ignites.

Her delicate kiss is new to him. A thousand thoughts are swirling in their minds—both excited, but Dick is mindful to be restrained. And that feeling, that thinking of the other person, This, she, is something wholly foreign to him; he can tell in an instant. His soft lips become more forceful, however, after she presses her body against him and kisses him with increasing desperation. Dick takes a step forward to retain his balance and Mac places a hand on the counter behind her to steady herself as well. This action causes a cascade of loud crashes of trinkets from the counter.

The pair cringe and become motionless, still embracing.

When the last bottle/tube/container hits the floor, Mac says, with a scrunched face in his chest, "Do you think that's a sign?"

We should be laughing, he thinks. I should have laughed right when stuff fell. Or at least kept kissing her. But the sound made him panic, made him think this was just another dream. That he wasn't really standing here with Mac. Mac. Her arms still wrapped around him and the taste of her lip gloss on his tongue.

"No," he said, worried she would really believe in a bad omen about their first kiss, that he wouldn't get to kiss her again. "That was an accident."

Mac pulls away from him sharply, "An accident?" she says as both her arms and eyes fall away from him.

Dick curses his slow mind. He's missed something again. Mac looks closed off and he can't figure out why. Oh.

"What? No! This was an accident," Dick almost yells as he sweeps off the remaining make-up bottles onto the floor. "Not a sign. This," he says pushing her against the counter and kissing her sweetly first and then with increasing urgency. Not wanting her to misunderstand him. That kiss was no accident, no slip up. It's all he's been wanting for months. He tries to show her all he is feeling in this kiss, tries to learn her too, but after a few glorious minutes Mac stops him.

Dick blinks and sees that he has a leg on either side of Mac trapping her against the bathroom counter. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes look happy, but she has a hand forcefully against his chest and a question on her lips, "This is what, Dick?"

Loaded question. He's blown it, he knows. His good intentions of being restrained went all to hell on their second kiss and he can tell he's scared her.

He backs up. Losens his grip on her frame. Hangs his head in shame. "Is what I want. What do you want, Mackie?"

Mac's face has a flash of recognition. She didn't mean to hurt him; she only wanted clarity. She stepped toward him and kissed his pouting lips ever so slightly. "You," she said simply.

His head snapped up. His eyes brightened. Dick's goofy grin returned.

"But I'm not like these other girls, Dick," she cautioned.

"You think I don't know that?" his rough voice startled her.

"I just mean, I need this to go slow. I operate at a slower pace, okay?" she was embarrassed to say this, but thought he needed to understand her hesitation.

Oh. Again, he had been confused. Dick lets out a relieved sigh as he wraps his arms around her. Still feeling her tense body, he says, "I'm sorry Mackie."

"Don't be sorry," she replied. He could hear her grin against his chest. "That was some kiss."

He sighed deeply and enjoyed holding her now relaxed body. Hers! Mac! "Mackie, as far as speed goes—you're in the driver's seat. Okay? From now on. You say slow down and we slow down."

She hugged him tighter and he continued, "And if you need a little more action, well, I'm your man for that too. You've got free reign, babe."

He smiled as she playfully hit his chest. Mac couldn't believe he was holding her. Dick! And they had just kissed! Dick was droning on, " I'm excited just thinking about taking direction from you, Mackie. Do you want to just practice just saying 'slower' and 'faster' so I can commit those to memory." Mac was giggling now. "I'll just warn you, there may be times you need me to speed things up, and that's A-okay by me, but I bet we could have a good time going so….very….slow ….too. Slow can be hot. It's up to you Babe; I'm perfection at all speeds."

"Dick?"

"Yeah Mackie?"

"You're a goofball."

"Nuh, uh. I have it on good authority I'm the best guy ever. Funny, charming, and handsome."

"You really are. Charming me into a laugh was exactly what I needed right then."

"And handsome too right?" Dick said making a face in the mirror as he tried to smooth down his now crazy hair.

"Seriously? You look like you should be on an Armani billboard right now, but I can't take this anymore," Mac said as she leaned into him, pressed both of her forearms against his chest, the and began to unknot his tie.

What? Now? Dick held his breath. What happened to slow? He was both amused at her aggression and holding himself back from attacking the mouth that was now only inches from his. Where was this going? What was she starting? Does she want me this badly too? He tried to remind himself that he just promised her she was in control.

Mac tugged hard at one side of his tie, happy to rid him of any remnant of Suzie. She balled up the fabric and shoved it in his chest. Then, thinking better of the ordeal, she gently straightened out his collar and ran her hands along his well-fitted jacket putting his outfit back together properly.

When she stepped back to admire the change, Dick finally let out his breath.

"Didn't think it looked good?"

"Just because it looked good, didn't mean it looked right," she told him. "You look more like you without the tie."

"I agree," said Dick, though he put the tie in his pocket.

"Planning on pulling it out later?"

They would never know it, but in that second both of them instantly thought of Mac recreating the scene from Pretty Woman in only a tie.

"Yeah, well I think the restaurant is a coat and tie kind of place," Dick said after only a moment's hesitation.

"You should have said something!" Mac exclaimed.

"No way! I have strict policy of never interrupting beautiful women while they are taking off my clothes," he said with a smile.

Though his thoughts were, I sound like such an asshole. You. I have a strict policy of not interrupting you when you're taking off my clothes.

He really thinks I'm beautiful? she thought, though she said, "Note to self: must remember when I need to shut you up."

"Ooohhh," he moaned with exaggeration. "Any fuckin' day of the week, Mackenzie."

She could only laugh when she realized what she was agreeing to do. "Shall we?" she asked, walking toward the door.

"We shall," replied Dick extending an elbow for her to hold onto.

She hesitated for one beat as she looked at him sideways. He winked and Mac laughed and took his arm. This was the start of a great night.