AN: Liz finally meets Denny Crane and Shirley Schmidt! The moment of truth is drawing near, very near, in the next chapter. Anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing. I hope you guys enjoy it.

Chapter Sixteen

Liz and Red were relaxing on the front porch swing when Dembe returned from the private airstrip with Denny and Shirley. They stood and walked over to the black Mercedes Benz, each opening a door for their visitors while Dembe opened the trunk.

"Lizzie, will you take our guests to see Ruger and Zonkey while Dembe and I bring in their luggage?" Red asked, planting a quick kiss on her temple.

It struck her as somewhat odd that Red would immediately leave her alone with his friends, but Liz didn't mind. They had plenty of things to talk about. She smiled and nodded. "Gladly."

Both Red and Dembe paused, watching them walk away, until they were safely out of earshot. With a click of his tongue, Red turned and said, "When we get inside, help me find Denny's comb or toothbrush. I want to get the samples to the lab as quickly as possible."

Dembe gave his friend's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Of course."

Each carrying two bags, they completed the task in a single trip. Within seconds, Dembe victoriously brandished Denny's toothbrush, and dropped it into the plastic bag that Red passed to him, along with Lizzie's hairbrush in a second bag.

"I've already contacted Gomez and lit a proper fire under him," Red said. "so he's expecting you, and additional threats to make haste won't be necessary."

"When and where do I pick up the results?"

"10 o'clock tonight, at Todd's Tavern."

Dembe's brow lifted, the corners of his lips slowly curling upwards into a grin. "That fast? Must have been a pretty big fire."

"Let's just say that with Gomez, I have a lot of kindling," Red replied, his grin matching that of his friend.

-...-...-...-

"They're outside right now," Liz told her guests. "Would you like to see their stall first?"

Her inquiry was met with only silence, as Shirley expected Denny to answer, and he seemed to have not even heard the question. After several seconds passed, Shirley elbowed him. "Denny? Stall or paddock first?"

"Huh? Um, it doesn't matter."

Liz offered a small smile. "Stall first, then." As she lead the way, she felt vaguely confused. Red had warned her that Denny was a shameless flirt, and that she'd probably have to brush off at least a handful of his comments within the first hour of his arrival. Clearly, that wasn't going to be the case. The man was yet to even make eye contact with her. Was it the mad cow? Considering their long-running joke of Red pretending to hit on Shirley, she had been prepared for the worst.

Needlessly prepared, it seemed.

"So, how did you guys end up with Zonkey? I didn't even know that zebras and donkeys could breed. He's such a spunky little thing."

Shirley answered, "Well, from the moment Ruger arrived in Boston, he was just... insane. I wasn't even sure if he was the same horse we bought in Spain. He was dangerous."

Denny grunted. "I knew it was him!"

Shirley shot him a glance that implied her doubt, and continued, "His previous owners tried to help, but none of their suggestions worked. We hired and fired three different trainers. He saw two vets. They all thought we should geld him, but Denny refused."

"You can't just cut off a bloodline like his. I'd rather send him back to Spain. Almost did." he said.

"Why did you buy a horse from Spain in the first place?"

"Andalusians are WAR horses, bred for strength and endurance! Too many died in battle though, in the 18th century, and then cross-breeding and disease muddied the gene pool."

"But they're still all over the world," Liz pointed out, hoping for further explanation.

"No, not exactly. Exports on Andalusians were restricted until the 1960s. If you want the finest, even now, you go to Spain."

With that remark, Liz concluded that he sounded a lot like Red. It takes more than money to be a connoisseur of anything, but piles of it are often needed just the same. She herself wouldn't know the difference between an Andalusian from Canada and an Andalusian from Spain, just as she wouldn't know the difference between one of Red's Loro Piana storm system coats and a knockoff.

They stepped into the barn's breezeway, and paused for a moment while Denny and Shirley took in the view. "It's this last stall over here, on the left," Liz said, and they slowly made their way over, peering into each stall they passed along the way. "So, how did all of that lead you to Zonkey?"

"Well, you met Alistair, right?" Shirley asked.

"I did. Nice guy. He seems very devoted."

"One of our clients recommended him, and he's been a lifesaver. Getting a buddy for Ruger was his idea, so we-"

"But SHE wanted to buy A COW," Denny incredulously interjected.

Shirley shrugged. "I had a pet cow when I was growing up. Her name was Bumpy."

They stepped into Ruger and Zonkey's stall, and as they looked around, Liz was glad that she'd fixed it up so nicely for their guests. "You lucked out. We have two broodmare stalls, but only one pregnant mare right now."

After his eyes scanned the perimeter of the stall, Denny finally lifted them to meet hers, and softly said, "It's perfect, Liz. Thank you."

She held his gaze for just a moment too long. "Don't mention it. Come on, let's go see 'em."

As they followed her lead, Shirley continued the story. "Zonkey wasn't our first pick. We started with a blind Shetland pony that we bought from an auction. The idea was that Ruger wouldn't perceive him as competition, and would therefore want to be his friend instead." She slowly shook her head and let out a heavy sigh. "I don't know why, but it didn't work. Alistair insisted that we try again."

Liz gasped. "Oh no! So you had to get rid of him? Who would want a blind pony?"

"Exactly, but no, my conscience wouldn't allow it. He has a new job, in a physical therapy program for handicapped children, and he's still boarded at Ruger's stable," Shirley answered.

Liz sighed, relieved. "What a great idea! I used to volunteer for a program like that, back in Nebraska."

"I wanted a zebra," Denny muttered.

"Is it even legal to own a zebra?" Liz wondered aloud.

He grunted and shook his head. "You know, I didn't expect Raymond's fiancée to be so concerned about the law."

Stunned, Liz's eyes widened. "Fiancée? We aren't engaged... and I wasn't judging you. I'm just curious."

"Oh, I thought Ray was gonna pr-"

"He's kidding," Shirley interjected, narrowing her eyes in warning.

Denny winked and pointed to his wife. "You'll have to watch out for the fun police over here."

Shirley ignored him. "Denny won Zonkey in a poker game."

"No, I won cash! Loser couldn't pay up."

"'That loser' is your friend, Denny, and his liquid assets had been frozen by the feds. He didn't even find out about it until he went to the bank to withdraw your winnings."

"So he gave you Zonkey instead?" Liz asked.

"No, no. Melvin invited us to his place, and told us to pick out something of equal value," Denny explained.

"But that was only AFTER you refused to give him any time to come up with the cash."

He feigned offense. "You paint an ugly portrait of me, Shirley."

As soon as Ruger and Zonkey spotted them, they broke into a gallop and skidded to a halt at the fence. Liz laughed and said, "I think they missed you."

"Of course they did," Denny replied reaching over the fence to pet his stallion.

"Anyway, I wanted no part of it," Shirley continued, "So while he went into the house to ogle Melvin's possessions, I went for a walk around the property, and found Zonkey in the barn."

Denny pointed to his wife. "And THEN she fell from her high horse, and said that she just HAD to have him."

She almost jumped to defend herself. "Hey! You can't pin that on me. You're the one that wanted a zebra."

Trying to discreetly defuse the couple's bickering, Liz said, "Well, much to Red's dismay, it seems that Zonkey's taken an instant liking to him. The fuzzball really gets a kick out of clowning around. He reminds me of the stereotypical little boy that acts rudely towards his crush." She laughed, grinning from ear to ear. "The BEST part, I think, is that it's working. Even if Red won't admit it, the little guy is SO winning him over."

Denny laughed, reaching to scratch behind Zonkey's ears. "That sounds about right. He's smarter than he looks."

"Alistair's been working with him too. He can pull a cart with two passengers," Shirley said.

"Bah!" Denny scoffed. "He's a good pack horse though. Er, pack donkey? Pack zebra? Whatever."

"So... if you go on a really long trail ride, like overnight, he'll wear a pack and carry the supplies?" Liz asked, not hiding her excitement. "There's at least fifty miles of marked trails around here."

Denny's face lit up. "Think Raymond will go for it? We had a bad experience during a cattle drive in Utah..."

Liz nodded, "Oh, I know. He told me all about it."

The older man shook his head, chuckling. "No, I doubt he told you everything." Shirley elbowed him again. "What? What did I say this time?"

"Red won't WANT to do it, but a little quid pro quo might go a long way towards changing his mind." As if to offer encouragement, Ruger nudged Liz's hand. "Are you guys still planning on fly fishing?"

"Probably," Shirley answered.

With defiance, Denny corrected her. "No, not probably. We ARE!"

"Hmm... I may have an idea, then... I'll need to think about it for a little while though..." Liz trailed off. "Would you guys like to meet my horse, Hudson?"

"Delighted," Shirley replied. "You seem to have Raymond wrapped around your little finger. That's no small feat. I have to admit that I'm impressed."

Following Liz's lead towards Hudson's paddock, Denny said, "Well, I'm not. You never met his first wife, did you Shirl?"

"His first and only wife," she answered. "And no, I didn't."

"Well, if you had, then you wouldn't be surprised either. Ray will do anything for the woman he loves, and I mean ANYTHING." To prove his point, he continued, "Even though he doesn't like horses, he bought you Houston, didn't he, Liz?"

Try as he might to hide it, Red's heart had never stopped aching over what happened between himself and his former wife. At her very mention, Liz couldn't control the hurt that she felt on his behalf. Well, as he's told her more than once, that's what love is, she thought. "It's Hudson, but yes, he did."

They fell into a contemplative silence, boots crunching the gravel underfoot. Entangled in Liz's mind was Denny's snafu, with the way he'd referred to her as Red's fiancée. What exactly had happened there? Was Denny unwittingly spilling a legitimate secret, or was he simply confused? Was it a symptom, or a sign? She couldn't think of a way to politely ask him.

She did, however, have an idea that may get her an answer from Red, if only indirectly. She set her jaw, resolving to put the matter out of her mind for the moment.

Liz spotted Hudson before he saw her. Expertly lodging two fingers into the corners of her mouth, she whistled loudly, and then laughed at Denny's startled expression. Hudson tossed his head and knickered softly in greeting. He took his time walking to the fence to greet them, and as he drew closer, Liz sighed, relieved that he hadn't rolled in anything. His black coat shined brilliantly in the afternoon sun.

"He's beautiful!" Shirley exalted. "What breed is he?"

"Thank you. He's an Arabian."

Denny earned another elbow from Shirley, scoffing. "An ay-rab? Why?"

Liz replied, "Why NOT? Anyway, I didn't exactly choose him. Even though he was a gift from Red, it's more like we found each other."

Denny's back straightened. "We're at war! It's unamerican."

Her immediate anger unchecked, Liz's fiery, unblinking eyes latched onto his, and she retorted, "Yeah? Buying an Arabian horse in America is more unamerican than buying a Spanish warhorse in Spain?"

Denny Crane is NOT a man accustomed to backing down, yet inexplicably, he wilted under Liz's crystal-blue, piercing gaze. Despite her lack of remorse, her expression softened in time with his lowering resolve. A painfully-extended and charged silence fell over the trio, compelling Denny to redirect, hoping to smooth things over. "Say, aren't ay-rabs bred for endurance too?"

Liz nodded, content to play along, dropping the issue before it could heat any further. "They are, yeah. They have a wide ribcage, and thus a large lung capacity, perfect for endurance riding." She busied her hands by combing her fingers through Hudson's mane.

"Well, that will come in handy after you've talked Raymond into that overnight trail ride," Shirley said.

"You're coming too, right?" Liz asked.

Her lips quirked. "Eh.. I don't think so. I'm not very fond of riding."

"So? Neither is Red. You guys can bond over your mutual discomfort. Come along anyway."

"Yeah, Shirl! I don't want to spend a minute of my vacation without my beautiful wife. On that note," Denny paused for effect, pointing one finger into the air, "THERE WILL BE NO BONDING WITH RAYMOND."

"Well, I'll be bonding with him," Liz boldly stated, casting a mischievous grin at her guests, "at least once."

Denny chuckled. "Saucy! Ray's a lucky man. I can see why he loves you."

Shirley pursed her lips, neither shocked nor offended. "Well, it takes a special kind of woman to keep up with him."

"As could also be said for this guy right here, I'm sure," Liz replied, lightly patting Denny's shoulder.

Shirley took Liz's arm and linked it with her own, steering them back towards the cottage. "Oh honey, you have no idea..."

"Uh oh! I don't think I like this. You girls are already teaming up against us, aren't you?"

Stoking the flames of his worry, whether real or imagined, they simultaneously looked up at him with matching faux doe eyes, and then slowly turned their gaze toward each other, breaking into laughter when their eyes met.

"We're going to have a fun week," Liz said.

-...-...-...-...-

For dinner, Red showed off his grillmaster skills, serving angus steaks that he bought from a neighboring farm. The temperature plummeted below freezing, but the foursome remained outside on the deck, reveling in the exceptionally star-filled sky. They drank a lot, perhaps even too much, and none were bothered by frigid air.

Time after time, Red found himself taking a mental step backwards, observing it all from a surrealist's perspective. He'd never been a religious man, but he could think of no better word for the feeling than "blessed". It was amazing, SO amazing how easily they had all reconnected, falling back into a familiar, comfortable niche within each other's lives. Even better, was that if Denny turned out to be Lizzie's biological father, then that niche would soon be carved even deeper.

At his behest, Dembe had left the DNA results in the glovebox of his Benz. Despite being outside of Red's line of sight, the envelope taunted him. He couldn't allow himself to look-not yet, at least. That would happen later, after Liz fell asleep. If they matched, he would need time to react and process things without prematurely tipping her off.

After waiting until everyone was plied with alcohol, Liz dove into the task of talking Red into the overnight trail ride. "Do you know the best spot for flyfishing on the Rappahannock?"

"I don't," Red replied, "but I'm certain that I could easily find out."

"You don't have to. I already know."

His interest piqued. "Oh?"

"It isn't far. Maybe fifteen miles. Got your waders?" She grinned and winked as he met her gaze.

"I was hoping you'd have forgotten about that." He turned towards Denny. "Any chance Bespoke or Greenfield will make a custom pair?"

"I'm pretty sure that you're joking, but in case you aren't... with enough money, you can have ANYTHING custom made."

"Isn't it grand, being so filthy rich?" Red replied, grinning and waving his cigar.

"Okay, fine fine fine," Liz said. "We'll revisit the waders later. Now, about that fishing spot..." She paused, ensuring that she had Red's full attention. "The problem is, you can't get to it by car. It's too far from the road."

"Perhaps by ATV then? We don't have any, but I'm sure I could get a couple," Red suggested.

"But what if you didn't?"

"I don't follow," Red answered flatly, but as soon as the words left his mouth, he had a sneaking suspicion of where she might be going with this.

She rested her chin on his shoulder, gazing upwards sweetly through her fluttering eyelashes. "We could go on horseback."

"Sweetheart, you know I don't ride."

"Neither does Shirley, but she will, if you do."

Red looked towards her for support, but found none. She shrugged. "How bad could it be, Ray?"

"We can even camp out overnight!" Liz pleaded, well-aware of the effect that her excitement had on him. She rested a hand on his thigh and leaned in to speak directly into his ear, "We'll share a sleeping bag."

Red struggled to swallow the thick lump in his throat. "You're making this rather hard on me, you know."

Her hand inched upward, and she hummed with delight. "Already?"

"Fine! Fine! You win, but you're not playing fair at all. I can't believe I'm actually agreeing to this."

Liz rewarded him with a kiss. "I promise that you won't regret it. It's going to be so much fun."

Across the table, Denny was grinning and practically dancing with excitement. Just look at them, Red thought to himself. If they aren't related, it'll be an enormous surprise. If they are, however, she'll probably be mortified for that display of lascivious behavior in front of her father.

Oh well?

-...-...-...-

Curled up in bed, their legs entwined, Liz broached the conversation that she hoped would clarify the nature of Denny's engagement slip. "You know, Denny says a lot of random, socially-unacceptable things..."

"Yes. It's fun though, isn't it?" Red replied. "You just have to be willing to accept the unacceptable. Take it for what it is, but don't take offense."

"But has he always been like that, or is it the mad cow?"

"Always. In fact, I think he may have had alzheimers for much longer than anyone knows. If he's always making those faux pas, then who would even notice? How could they, if the symptom was already baked into his personality?"

This wasn't going very well at all, Liz internally fretted. "But does he do it on purpose? That's what I really want to know. I thought that maybe, if he's always been like that, then he's doing it on purpose, but that doesn't really make sense."

"No? Why not?"

"Because a lawyer who behaves that way couldn't possibly remain undefeated in the courtroom, and a jury's perception can't be effectively manipulated without first understanding it. Some of the things Denny says... He really seems surprised to have offended, like he really doesn't believe it, and he doesn't understand why or how."

"I wish I had an answer, but my guess? Before the mad cow, he probably always did it intentionally, for the sole purpose of entertaining himself, knowing when he could or couldn't get away with it, and feigning surprise over any 'accidental' offense. How else could he be such a successful lawyer? Now, it's probably a little of both."

Liz sighed, burying her nose into the crook of his neck. "But can you ever tell which it is? Can you tell when he's doing it on purpose, or when he's just confused? I just get this feeling... like, maybe he uses the mad cow as an excuse to say what he really means."

"Sweetheart, are you okay? Did he say something that upset you? You seemed fine at dinner." The litany of questions was beginning to drive him mad. Normally, Liz would be asleep by now. Why wouldn't she just go to sleep?

"It's nothing, really. He just said something stupid, about how unamerican it is to have an 'ay-rab' horse. I'll admit, I was a little annoyed, but I brushed it off. I'm just curious." It wasn't the whole truth, because it wasn't the comment that she was dwelling on and fretting over, but she really had been ticked off, at the time.

Red tucked in his chin to kiss the top of her head. "It's just an occupational hazard, right? I understand, but I wouldn't recommend profiling Denny Crane."

"Yeah, you're right. It's fine. I love you."

He tightened his hold on her and sighed. "I love you too."

Soon. She would fall asleep soon, wouldn't she?