Ghosts That Haunt

by Adderlygirl

AU / Sequel to Forging a Life. Casey is assigned a foreign female operative to pose as his girlfriend.

28. Chapter 28

Ghosts that Haunt—28

It started with Ariel arriving to devote herself to seeing that the trains ran on time. Okay, so maybe she wasn't Mussolini, but she managed to give the impression nonetheless. Casey endured hours of trying to make nice with her primarily to prevent her from further browbeating Riah. He wasn't sure whether he was happy or disappointed that they both managed to tolerate one another without fireworks.

The first major snafu involved Riah's childhood friend whom she wanted to marry them this time. Neither Casey nor Riah were members of a local church, and when she approached the Episcopal diocese to see if they would grant permission for Peter Whatley to marry them, the bishop initially refused. Whatley had told her he would have to have that permission, but the diocese balked—more than once. In part it was because neither Casey nor Riah were Episcopalian, and in part it was because Whatley technically wasn't either. A further wrinkle rose when Whatley's bishop discovered the wedding wouldn't be conducted in a church, and Casey and Riah's reasons didn't fall under church guidelines to allow a wedding outside a church building.

Walker came to their rescue with the local bishop. She paid the man a visit, flashed her badge, and explained the supposed circumstances in a way that had the man rapidly scrawling his signature on the appropriate form. Casey wasn't at all sure he wanted to know what that explanation might have entailed, and he didn't ask. Walker didn't offer, either. She had simply handed over the completed forms with one of those sharp smiles of hers.

V. H. took care of Whatley's bishop by explaining that security issues could be better controlled at the hotel where there were cameras and guests could more easily be screened and tracked. When that hadn't swayed the man, V. H. had apparently pointed out that it might be better to ruin a hotel than a church if violence or other mayhem were to occur. Casey was certain his own penchant for said violence and mayhem had been described with relish by Riah's father.

Those hurdles cleared, though, they next learned there was a marriage preparation course requirement.

Before Casey could say hell no, Riah, after a number of attempts to get them out of it, finally explained to Whatley that they were already married. The vicar found a way to get them around it, but then he sent Riah paperwork Casey needed his priest to complete. Apparently the man's bishop was engaging in passive-aggressive behavior over their marriage. Casey couldn't remember the last time he'd been a member of a church, so he called his mother to see if she could find out if he was still a member of the one in his hometown. She hadn't been amused, but he sent her a fax number and she then made sure the priest sent the completed forms to Whatley's bishop.

Riah, damn it, had laughed.

In a moment of pettiness, he groused that Canadians had too many damn impediments to marriage.

As long as nothing else came up, they were cleared for the wedding with a little over a week to spare.

Several days before the wedding, Bartowski, Grimes, and Woodcomb gave him his quiet evening as a bachelor's party after Casey put his foot down about the acceptable parameters of said evening, and Casey was happy enough to spend a few hours with a good steak, excellent scotch and a very good cigar. The company wasn't bad, either, to his surprise. Grimes might be nearly thirty chronologically and twelve mentally, but outside his normal environment, it turned out he could at least pass for a sentient human instead of an overeager puppy. Woodcomb, though, occasionally dispensed marital advice that alternately amused Casey or made him want to punch him. He survived it without resorting to sarcasm or violence.

When he went home afterward, though, Riah teased him about strippers. When he assured her there had been none, she had taken him upstairs and provided him with a very private show.

As he watched her remove her clothes in a manner that bordered on the obscene—not to mention a few garments that definitely crossed the line of decency—he couldn't imagine enjoying watching a stranger do this more than he did watching her. There was no question, he thought when she was naked and her mouth explored him, that he was a very, very lucky man.

Whoever had taught his wife to do that deserved a commendation.

Then he decided that anyone who had seen her do that needed to be murdered.

He hadn't told Riah yet that her father had called and explained that after their rehearsal dinner he and Paul Patterson planned to give him what V. H. termed "fatherly advice." It had sounded more like a threat than an evening with old friends to Casey, but since Riah would be in a hotel suite with her mother and sister that night, he might as well endure a night of whatever V. H. intended to say to him. After all, he couldn't keep Casey from marrying his daughter.

His mother arrived the Tuesday before the wedding. He and Riah both offered her Riah's old room. His mother told him that she and Ariel had a lot to do, so she was staying with Riah's mother. Why that alarmed him, he was never sure, but it soon became clear the two women got along, and at least his mother's presence alleviated the pressure Ariel put on Riah when Casey was absent.

They applied for their marriage license on Wednesday, and Riah had a difficult time not laughing when this time they applied for a regular license, though she had paled as she reached the part that asked if she had been married before. He quietly told her to admit it, as he did, and then they had to explain to the clerk several times since she was baffled as to why they wanted a second license when they were already married. Finally, Casey asked if there was any law that said they couldn't, and when the woman admitted that she was unaware of one, they got their license. He'd only insisted on doing this to keep from having to explain they were already married. Despite the jokes, he was damned sure neither of their mothers would ever forgive them.

Several of the Buy Morons had dropped hints about invitations that Casey ignored. Family, friends, and colleagues comprised the list, and Casey didn't class most of them in any of those categories. They'd invited Big Mike and Grimes, the latter over Casey's objections, but that was all. Grimes intended to bring his new girlfriend, a Brenda Zielkowski who worked at Large Mart, and Casey had done a background check on her to make sure she wasn't something she shouldn't be. Grimes might have managed to score Anna Wu, who had ultimately left him, but Casey found it hard to believe the man-boy could get that lucky a second time. In part, though, he admitted he had become paranoid as Riah's pregnancy became more obvious and known, and he had no intention of letting anything happen to her. Although Walker had run most of the background checks on guests for him, he personally followed up on anyone who still seemed questionable.

His sister Julie flew in Thursday, but it didn't take Casey long to notice something seemed off. He took her to dinner that evening since she refused Riah's invitation to go with her and Ellie to Ariel's house. Julie wasn't herself, though, and he worried about her. She went through the motions of tormenting him, but her heart didn't really seem to be in it since she didn't really engage when he hit back. Curious, he finally flat-out asked what was wrong with her.

"My date fell through," she said.

She'd been dating some guy named Dan whom no one in the family had met yet. There was something in the way she said it that put him on point. When they had been served, he asked, "So what did the moron do?"

Julie didn't laugh, but she looked like she might cry. She also didn't answer.

"I'm going to have to go shoot him, aren't I?" he prodded, though that made him remember and empathize with V. H.'s own threat to him.

"Dan didn't do anything, Johnny—I did."

He waited, watched her. She looked more miserable than he thought he'd ever seen her, and it dawned on him she must really love the idiot. "You going to tell me?" he prodded when she remained silent for longer than normal.

Her smile was watery. "No." She picked up her wineglass. "I don't think you'd understand at all, Johnny."

"Try me," he said when she set her glass down again. He had a feeling he'd more than understand, but he could understand her reticence. They had never really been confidants, after all, and both tended to use any intel the other let slip at opportune times.

There was a soft sigh, and she rubbed her eyes. "I told Dena I didn't want her to come with me to your wedding."

Dena?

Her?

Casey sat back and stared at his youngest sister, who wouldn't meet his eyes, went beet-red, then paled so much her face practically glowed in the dim light of the restaurant. His thoughts tumbled. Julie had a girlfriend? Then he ran through what he knew of her love life over the years and realized he should have known this long ago. It had been there all along—if he'd only paid attention.

"I take it you care about this Dena?" He had to work to make that question sound normal. Inside, he kept trying to reshape the reality of who his sister was around a lifetime of assumptions and to understand how he could have missed it for nearly thirty years.

The answer was painfully plain on his sister's face, though Julie still didn't look at him or answer. He recognized that pain, had a lot more than a passing familiarity with it, and in that moment he realized he didn't give a damn who she loved. She was his sister, and he loved her, always would. He would simply have to adjust his idea of who Julie was—and he was definitely going to make sure this Dena, whoever she was, deserved her.

What he wasn't willing to do was to let his sister fuck up her life the way he had repeatedly done his own. He knew exactly how fortunate he was that Riah had forgiven him for being an ass. For a minute, his lips twitched as he heard again her furious, You defame four-legged beasts of burden. What he had to do now was convince Julie to do what neither of them ever liked to do: apologize and mean it.

"You know, Julie," he said quietly, stared at his own glass of wine a moment or two before he looked at her, "I can tell you from experience that if you really care for her, you need to make this right."

That brought Julie's eyes to his. "Really? Mr. Hardcore, Card-Carrying, Arch-Conservative is okay with his sister having a girlfriend?"

Every bitter word of that cut deeply. "Because you are my sister, Julie, and because I love you, I want you to be happy. If this Dena makes you happy, then that's what matters." Shock was clearly written on her face, and Casey was pretty sure she didn't believe him. He waited for her inevitable dig about his telling her he loved her, something he very rarely said to anyone other than Riah and his mother. When she continued to just stare warily at him, he tried again. "Look," he told her, held her gaze, "I lie about who I am every day. It's part of my job, but it shouldn't be part of your life. I honestly could care less who you love as long as you're happy and whoever it is treats you well. Take it from me, Julie. If she's the one, then fix whatever this is. You don't want to spend the rest of your life alone."

His sister stared at him like she'd never met him. She didn't even try to hide her skepticism. "So you and your fiancée really won't mind if your sister turns up with another woman as her date?"

That should have been plain, but since it wasn't, he said it. "Invite this Dena as your date, Julie. As for Riah, she's Canadian. She'd let you get married if you wanted."

Her snort of amusement encouraged him, but then Julie paled again. "Mom," she said quietly.

"You're on your own with that one," he told her, "though I suspect she might not object as much as you think." After what his mother had said to him when he had confessed to her about Riah, he suspected she might not care as long as Julie was happy and Dena treated her well. He'd have a word with Jane Casey if she did object. He would appeal to her to keep the peace until after the wedding at the very least and hope she would recover from the shock and leave Julie alone. Julie obviously didn't believe him. "When I told her about Riah, told her about the fact that we were living together and about the baby she lost, Mom took it in stride. She wanted me to be happy, and I suspect she'll want the same for you."

The next thing he knew, he had an armful of weeping sister. He awkwardly comforted her, all the while hoping that would stop immediately. It didn't, and as he watched the restaurant's other patrons, he gave them a look that dared any of them to do anything other than return to their meals and mind their own business.

When Julie finally settled into the occasional sniffle, she told him quietly about Dena Jones, how they had met at work when the other woman joined the staff at the same clinic where Julie worked as an accountant. Unlike Julie, Dena was a nurse, though. For the next half hour, Casey listened as his sister told him about falling for the woman. In his head, he recalled how Julie hadn't dated in high school, had been focused on her studies. In college, she had dated, had given her family men's names, though he was now fairly certain the reason none of them had ever met Julie's boyfriends had been because none of them had been boys.

"So call her and invite her out," he said when she finished. "And try not to fuck it up again."

She shoved his shoulder and grinned. "Like you fucked it up with your Riah?"

"You have no idea," he assured her. After the waiter cleared their plates, after Casey ordered scotch and Julie asked for coffee, he told her just how spectacularly he had nearly ruined his relationship with Riah. "I was smart enough to grovel, though, so now it's your turn."

Later, when he replayed that conversation with Riah, she didn't bat an eye. Instead, she asked, "Should I call Julie and make sure she knows I'm fine with her girlfriend?"

He'd known she wouldn't question Julie's choice, but it was nice to have it confirmed. Casey shook his head, and then showed her his gratitude.

Their rehearsal was scheduled for the night before the wedding, but Casey and Riah had another appointment that morning. Actually, it made her more nervous than the wedding, but Casey looked forward to it. Her aunt Lydia smiled when she came in the examination room where they waited and asked, "Have you two decided whether or not you want to know the baby's sex?"

Riah looked up at Casey. They had talked about it but had never really come to a final decision. He gave her a faint nod, and Riah kept her eyes on his as she said, "We want to know."

Casey watched as Riah and Lydia lowered the waistband of her skirt and lifted the hem of her shirt to expose as much of her abdomen as possible. He watched Lydia put some gel on Riah's belly and rub the ultrasound wand over her. Casey clutched Riah's hand and sat beside her on the table, his eyes glued to the monitor. He could pick out the head, could see the limbs, and could see that the baby seemed to be sucking its thumb—or at least had a tiny hand near its mouth.

A funny thing happened to him then. Despite the changes in Riah's body, despite his intellectual knowledge that Riah was pregnant, it absolutely had not been real to him until that moment, until he saw that grainy image, saw it move. He wondered if it hurt, wondered if Riah could feel it yet. Until then, it had been an abstract concept for him, but there was no denying what he looked at, and he studied that image, looked for something, though he wasn't entirely sure what. He caught Riah's smile, leaned in and kissed her.

Lydia pointed with her free hand and said, "See here? It's a girl." He looked closer, and noted a certain absence where Lydia pointed. Riah beamed, and Casey, who hadn't really given a lot of thought to whether he'd want a son, found he was perfectly happy with the idea of a daughter.

The nurse handed Riah a washcloth when they were finished, and she wiped the gel off her stomach. Lydia had more to talk about when Riah had put her clothes back to rights, so Casey sat beside his wife and listened to her aunt tell them that there was no guarantee the baby was a girl though the visual evidence indicated she was. She talked about the importance of Riah continuing to eat well, the need for her to put on a bit more weight, and her concern over Riah's lowering blood pressure. Casey began asking questions at that point, especially since he knew the more common problem was rising blood pressure. Lydia reassured him it was unlikely to remain a problem, that it would need monitoring, but he wasn't convinced. Her aunt tried to explain to him that her niece's blood pressure had always run on the low end of the scale, that her concern stemmed from the fact that unlike many pregnant women, Riah's had dropped even lower rather than rising.

When they were finished, Lydia handed over a couple of photos from the ultrasound and said, "You've got a busy couple of days ahead of you, Mariah, but make sure you rest, okay?" When Riah agreed, she hugged her aunt and told her they would see her that evening.

Casey took her home, took her upstairs and pulled her down with him on their bed. He kissed her long and softly, and then he stroked a hand over her abdomen. "Elizabeth," he said.

She smiled and said, "No." His brows shot up because he liked that name, but she told him, "Almost every female in my family has that as a middle name—it's my middle name—and I want something different for our daughter." She frowned. "Emily?"

"Too close to Emma," he said, and Riah agreed—besides, he didn't like the way Emily Casey sounded. "And no names beginning with J," he insisted.

"Well, there goes Johna," she shot back with a grin.

He growled at her, and she laughed. "I'm serious," he told her. "My parents felt compelled to make sure we all had the same initials. No J's."

"I don't want any of those trendy names," she told him, and he wondered how she defined that. He didn't have to wait long for the explanation. "I have trouble picturing girls named Hunter as old ladies." He made a face and whined a little, but it was mainly for show. He liked a girl to have a girl's name, though he didn't explain that to her just then. She gave him a glare. "If you were seriously thinking of naming our daughter that, I may have to rethink marrying you."

The smug bastard that tended to lurk just under the surface came out. "You already married me."

She raised her brows. "I could divorce you."

Casey laughed, certain she intended to do no such thing, and then asked, "On what grounds?"

"Irrational name choices for our first born," she shot back with a grin. "If I get a female judge, I'll walk away with more than half of what you own for pain and suffering."

He pulled her closer and snorted. "So if my name choices are so irrational, what are your choices?"

It wasn't hard to see that Riah went blank a second before she considered his question. He knew she had been spent the first three months of her pregnancy scared she would lose the baby any moment, and he knew that fear had made her distance herself a bit from getting too happy about being pregnant since she was afraid she'd have another miscarriage. Casey was in too good a mood to dwell on her fears. He intended to keep the mood light, so he grunted, as if she had just proved his point. He enjoyed her frown. "You weren't serious about Hunter, were you?" she asked. A healthy layer of suspicion lay beneath her question.

He assured her he hadn't been, but she eyed him, clearly checking his sincerity. Casey's eyes danced, and he leaned in and kissed her nearly senseless before suggesting, "Reagan."

"Really, Colonel?" she said, brows arched. "You seriously thought you could get that one past me?"

"What's wrong with it?" he asked, a little unwilling to tell her yet that really had been a serious suggestion.

He waited while she thought about it. He liked the sound of Reagan Casey, and he figured he could manage to talk her into it since they were having a daughter instead of a son. There were a number of girls named Reagan these days—not a lot, but several. She told him she'd consider it if they dropped the first A. He categorically refused. "You'll just call me a Communist again," she warned, so he quirked a brow and waited for her explanation. She lifted a brow of her own and said she would only agree to Reagan if her middle name could be Trudeau in recognition of her Canadian heritage.

Casey was fairly certain she knew he wasn't going to give in on that, so he watched her carefully as he responded, wondered what she would do when he rejected it. "No," he said flatly before he leaned in and kissed her, then added, "You can't give our daughter a Communist's name."

She laughed. "Pierre Trudeau was not a Communist."

"Liberal," he grunted. "Same thing."

This time Riah pulled him down for a kiss, one with a very enticing spin to it, at that. "We have plenty of time to decide," she whispered.

"I'm holding out for Reagan," he murmured.

She smiled. "I'm willing to revisit Hunter if it keeps Reagan off the list."

Casey's fingers undid the buttons of her blouse, and he put his lips between her breasts. "I've given up on Hunter," he told her. "Reagan."

She moaned as his tongue began doing things to her nipple. "You're cheating, Colonel."

He took the time to remove a few of her clothes, taste her newly exposed skin. "No one said I couldn't use physical persuasion," he said when he nibbled his way down her belly. "If you had a name in the hat, I'd be happy to have you convince me any way you liked."

His hands joined the act, then his body, and when Riah lay spent beneath him, her hands stroking over his skin, she murmured against his shoulder. "I think we need to establish some rules here."

After he rolled to his side and studied her a moment, Casey kissed her. "Does that mean you aren't persuaded yet?"

There was something he really liked about her smug smile. "You're going to have to work harder than that to convince me, Colonel."

"You could work with me here, Mrs. Casey," he said against her mouth.

"I think I just did," she countered. She pushed him onto his back and rolled on top of him. Casey threaded his hands though her hair and pulled her mouth to his. "Mmm," she moaned, "it's a shame we can't continue our negotiations tonight."

"Don't remind me," he groaned.

Riah's mother had insisted she couldn't stay with him the night before they got married. She was apparently taking the whole formal wedding thing seriously, and that meant he was not allowed to see Riah on their wedding day. Instead, she would spend the night in the suite where they would celebrate their wedding night. Personally, he thought it was stupid. They were already married, even if they were the only ones who knew it, but even if that were not the case, given Riah's pregnancy and the fact that she and Casey had lived together for more than a year, he saw no reason they had to observe tradition. On the other hand, he knew it was less about tradition than her mother seeing it as a rare opportunity for mother/daughter bonding, and because that was something Riah had largely missed out on growing up, Casey wasn't going to argue.

Over the course of the afternoon, it occurred to him, though, that he and Riah had spent a lot of time stealing moments before separations. One night was not, he supposed, a major separation, but he was used to having her in the bed with him most nights. She, for her part, seemed to be trying to make it up to him, or maybe he was trying to make it up to her. Whatever it was, they spent a lazy day in bed. They talked about the baby more, made outrageous suggestions about names, and made love.

They had to be at the hotel at six, and Casey found himself reluctant to get out of bed when the time came. Riah, too, seemed happy to stay where they were, but they got up, showered, and dressed. Casey took her suitcase from her and asked if she was sure she had everything. She assured him she did.

He rode the elevator with her to the suite where her mother let them in. "Your dress arrived this afternoon, Mariah, so, Casey, you don't go any further than this room." She gave her daughter the once-over and said, "You look tired. I thought you were supposed to rest."

Casey took the opportunity she queued up and told her blandly, "I saw to it personally that she spent the afternoon in bed." He noticed Riah was hard pressed not to laugh at his pious expression.

Ariel wasn't a bit fooled by his assurance. She snorted and said, "I'll bet."

Emma joined them and they headed downstairs. Riah's father was waiting in the lobby, and so were Bartowski, Ellie, Paul Patterson, Sarah Walker, and Casey's family. Woodcomb was still at work, but Ellie told them he hoped to make dinner at least.

While she had given in to a certain extent on her mother's desire to have a large wedding, Riah had put her foot down about the size of the wedding party. As a result, Riah had Emma as her maid of honor and Ellie as a bridesmaid, and Casey had Bartowski and Paul Patterson. Riah had decided to forgo a flower girl and ring bearer, which didn't bother Casey in the least, especially since he'd seen more than one wedding temporarily derailed by an errant ring bearer. When they reached the small ballroom where they would marry, he noticed the chairs had been set up and the decorations appeared to be mostly in place. Riah said softly that the flowers would be brought in the next day.

Near the slightly raised dais where they would say their vows stood a man talking to someone who wore a hotel staff uniform. Casey figured it for Riah's old friend, Peter Whatley. An ordinary looking man, he grinned when he saw them, came forward and hugged Riah tightly. Casey noticed her warm smile and the tightness with which she returned the man's hug, and he reminded himself she was his wife and the man was not a threat. It didn't stop him from wanting to rip his arms off, though, admittedly, Whatley would be unable to hold the Bible while he married them if Casey did. She introduced them, and he did his best to play nicely.

Whatley seated them and talked through what would happen during the ceremony. Casey listened carefully since the Canadian Anglican Church's ceremony was a little different than those he was used to. Riah had mostly chosen the highly formal version of the service, though she had agreed to a few more modern options—that their families would affirm support for their marriage rather than her father give her away, and the word obey would not be part of the vows. Since he knew better than to expect her to obey him, he hadn't insisted, though he'd been tempted just to watch her argue. Neither wanted to write their own vows, preferred those of the service with that one change.

The vicar explained, for those unfamiliar, the order of service and the differences in liturgy. Then he had them walk through it. Riah walked in beside her father and joined Casey. Whatley talked them through the declarations, the parental affirmation, the vows, the points where Riah and Casey would join and release hands, and the places where prayers, readings and music would be. When he finished, Bartowski, asked, "What? No kiss the bride?"

Riah laughed and asked, "And why is it never kiss the groom?"

Whatley flashed her a quick grin and said, "I, apparently, mistakenly assumed everyone knew about that part." He looked at Casey and said, "You can kiss her, or she can kiss you, or you can kiss each other."

Casey knew an exploitable opportunity when he heard one, and his mouth was on hers before Whatley had finished that statement.

Paul Patterson tapped Casey on the shoulder and said, "If we're kissing the bride, may I be next?"

"No," he growled in response.

Whatley led them through the recessional, and then had them walk through it once more before he was satisfied everyone knew what to do.

Ariel had reserved a room at an exclusive restaurant. They were joined by Lydia Pentangeli and Woodcomb there. The food was good, her parents were on their best behavior, and, to Casey's relief, everyone played well together. Julie had apparently managed to break her news to their mother and the rest of the family since she was accompanied by a stunning brunette with dark brown eyes she introduced as Dena Jones. Casey did his best to make her welcome, and so did his wife.

By the end of dinner, Riah looked exhausted, and Casey felt guilty for having kept her occupied all afternoon. He looked closer at her while the others talked, and he realized she didn't look like she felt well. It was obvious she tried to hide it, so rather than call attention to her by asking, he leaned in to whisper, "We could leave them here, and I could take you to the hotel."

His guilt grew stronger when she whispered miserably, "I want to go home—with you."

"Twenty-four hours, Riah," he reminded her softly.

She met his eyes. "I have this terrible feeling something is going to happen, and you're going to run off with Walker and Chuck, guns in hand, and I'm going to be left at the altar."

He bent again for a slow, persuasive kiss. "Good thing we're already married, then, isn't it?" She frowned at his joke. "Your father would shoot me if I left you at the altar."

Riah hitched up a brow and smiled slightly. "My mother will shoot you if you ruin her wedding that way."

Discretion, he decided, was the better part of valor, so he ignored her statement. "I'm off-duty." He took her hand. "No national security emergencies, Riah. I promise."

"Not even if Chuck flashes?"

Casey lifted her hand and kissed it. "Not even then."

It wasn't hard to see she didn't believe him for a minute, but she said nothing.

At least Ariel let Casey drive Riah back to the hotel, and he was relieved they were alone for the short trip. He pulled her hand onto his thigh and held it as he drove. As he turned into the hotel parking lot, she sighed and released her seatbelt when he killed the engine. He caught her hand again and reminded her, "It's only for tonight, Riah." After he came around and opened the door for her, they walked inside with his hand in the small of her back. Her father and Paul Patterson were seated in the lobby, and Riah shot a look at Casey. "I'm going to be getting fatherly advice," he said tersely, and he made it sound like a trip to a dentist.

That simply made her laugh.

He walked her to the elevators and pushed the call button before he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. "Don't drink too much scotch," she said and kissed him back.

"Get some sleep," he countered and kissed her again.

"Maybe I should tell Dad he's not allowed to shoot you," she said and reached up to kiss him once more.

"If the two of you don't quit that," her father's voice said, "your mother will shoot the both of you. I'll provide the gun." Riah laughed again, and Casey scowled at V. H. "Unhand my daughter, Casey."

He removed his arms from around her, and her father stepped up and hugged her. "Don't let your mother bully you too much," he said and kissed her cheek. "Now, say goodnight to Casey and actually get on an elevator before your mother calls me again and demands to know where you are."

Unable to resist, Casey put his arms around her once more, and kissed her as thoroughly as he dared in a public place. Riah, apparently aware that he was only doing it to annoy her father, kissed him back in ways that gave him ideas, and he nearly decided he was taking her home anyway. He didn't even hear the elevator ding or the doors open, and it wasn't until her father cleared his throat and told them that that was more than enough—unless Casey wanted to get them arrested for public indecency. Casey finished what he was doing and lifted his head while her father held the elevator. She looked up at him. "I'll see you tomorrow evening," he promised and eased her inside the elevator car. Her father let the door close.

Casey sent her a quick text, told her he loved her, and then pocketed his phone and walked back to where V. H. and Paul Patterson waited for him, a slight smile curving his lips. In truth, he'd far rather be going home with Riah—or even upstairs with her—but as he had told her, it was only a further twenty-four hours. He wasn't sure what accounted for her reluctance to leave him, but he fully understood his own.

They adjourned to the bar where they took a table on the terrace. It took a few minutes to order since they had different preferences for how they drank their scotch, but when they each had a glass in front of them, V. H. said, "Well, at least I can rest tonight knowing that for one evening you're not molesting my daughter."

"I don't molest your daughter," Casey ground out over Paul Patterson's snort of amusement. He gave his father-in-law a steely stare. He knew Adderly was just winding him up, but that particular charge had worn very thin.

Adderly picked up his glass and said, "Then explain how she got pregnant."

In retaliation, Casey carefully timed his response so that he deadpanned, "Your daughter molests me," when the other man had a mouthful of scotch. He found the sound of Adderly choking on the liquor and then coughing quite satisfying.

Paul Patterson snorted once more. "You do have a history of pretty young women molesting you."

If the General was trying to give him an assist, it wasn't much of one. Adderly shot Patterson a puzzled look, and to Casey's dismay, his former commander began rattling off several of his transgressions as a young second lieutenant, starting with getting caught with the mayor's eighteen-year-old daughter in the man's own bed and culminating with the one that had nearly ended his career before it really began—the married redhead who neglected to tell him she had a husband. That husband started a bar brawl Casey finished after the man found his wife in Casey's lap with her hands down his pants. Casey had nearly killed a sheriff's deputy who interfered, and only Paul Patterson's intervention had kept him from a court martial.

To his surprise, Adderly just laughed at the end of Paul's recitation. "He hasn't changed much," V. H. assured the other man. He then regaled Paul with several of Casey's exploits since then, and the list featured some of the more embarrassing episodes of his professional life, including at least two Casey was unaware Adderly even knew about. He finished with Carina in Prague. Casey supposed he should be thankful his father-in-law apparently didn't know about his second encounter with Carina. It was bad enough Riah did.

The General was amused and shook his head. "And you're actually letting him marry your daughter?"

Casey gritted his teeth. "I have changed, Riah's thirty years old, and he can't stop her."

Adderly turned to Paul then and heaved a melodramatic sigh. "Sadly, he's convinced her he's the only man for her, so there isn't anything I can do to stop this nonsense—short of shooting him, that is. My daughter would never forgive me, though."

Paul sighed, too. "I'm afraid you're right," he agreed mournfully. "She's so dazzled by his good looks she can't see there are better catches out there than young John here."

He wasn't sure whether to be insulted or flattered by the young, but he was irritated by the implication that Riah made a poor choice. "Riah knows exactly what she's getting, but she married me anyway."

Two pairs of eyes swiveled his way, and he realized what he had just said. That made twice he had allowed himself to be goaded into admitting that he and Riah had already married, and since he hadn't even finished his first drink, he couldn't blame the scotch. He knew something was wrong, though, when Adderly just laughed. "What?" he barked.

It was there on Adderly's face: the man knew. "I wondered if you would ever admit the two of you eloped a few months ago," his father-in-law said with a grin. Casey didn't think Riah would have told her father out of fear he'd say something to her mother. "Mariah didn't tell me," he reassured him. "You really should be more observant, though. Vinton said neither of you of even noticed him in the clerk's office that day, and I know both of you know him."

Casey thought hard. He hadn't seen Frank Vinton, nor had Riah or she would have said something. "You had your daughter followed?" Riah would be mad as hell if she knew that.

"No, and I didn't have you followed, either," Adderly said. He went on to explain Vinton was tailing the son of a New Brunswick senator. "He was trying to do the same thing you and my daughter were, ironically, only his bride was a Latvian spy."

He finished his scotch, and the waitress came by to check on them. They ordered a second round. Paul picked up his fresh glass and asked, "You bring any of those good cigars with you?"

Casey grunted and reached in a pocket. He took a look around, but there were others smoking. Apparently this bar hadn't gone over to the no-smoking Nazis yet. He handed one to Paul and offered one to Adderly who took it. He snipped the end off his own, and the waitress brought an ashtray. When they had the cigars going, Paul asked, "When's that pretty little girl of yours due?"

Adderly raised his brows and looked at Casey. "Mariah know he calls her that?"

He nodded. "Apparently, he's charming," he told his father-in-law acerbically. Paul snorted. "November," he told the General.

Paul leaned back and drew on his cigar before raising his glass to Casey. "Let's hope it's the tenth." Mariah's father asked why, and Paul told him it was the Marine Corps' birthday.

"You two started talking about names yet?" Adderly asked.

Casey swallowed scotch. "Yeah."

"Well?"

He shrugged. "We only found out this morning it's going to be a girl. The negotiations have started."

Paul's brows shot up. "Negotiations?"

"Let's just say Riah and I aren't seeing eye-to-eye yet, but we have an interesting way of discussing it," he said with a grin and drew on his cigar.

Adderly put his head down and moaned. "You're going to molest her into getting your way, aren't you?"

Casey and the General laughed at his misery. Casey was sure it was mostly feigned, but he liked getting his own back now and then. When Adderly looked up, Casey told him, "I've offered to let her seduce me into getting her way."

"I'm going to need a lot more scotch to scrub the disgusting images in my head out," he said, finishing his drink.

"Your daughter will never forgive me if you have a hangover at her wedding," Casey told him.

"You should have thought of that before you told me what you just did," Adderly shot back and beckoned the waitress over. He ordered another round. Casey wasn't going to do anything to stop him. As far as he was concerned, Adderly was a big boy, and if he wanted to disappoint his daughter, that was none of his business. When the waitress left, Adderly turned to him. "You're not disappointed it isn't a boy?"

He shook his head slowly, looked at his remaining scotch. Then he smiled. "As long as it's healthy," he began, and then he changed his mind about what he wanted to say. "Truthfully, the second I saw that fuzzy picture during the ultrasound, I didn't give a damn what it was. I just . . . Well, I just wanted . . . ." He ground to a halt, tried to find the words to say what he had felt at that moment. "I just wanted her. I wished I could see her for real. She looked like she was sucking her thumb, and I wanted to hold her." He sounded like some sort of moron, he thought, so he shut up.

It was soon clear he should have kept his mouth shut.

"Good Lord, John," Paul said with a grin. "You are human after all."

Casey shot him an angry glare.

"Mushy bastard," Adderly agreed cheerfully, earning an angry glare of his own. "Must be the side of him Mariah fell in love with."

He couldn't stop the growl, but then he didn't even try, really. The other two just grinned. Casey resisted the urge to say anything in his defense. It would only egg them on. Besides, he'd fallen in love with his daughter the second he had seen those grainy images of her moving within Riah's womb. He hadn't expected that. Maybe he was mushy, as Adderly had put it. He already knew he was soft where his wife was concerned, but he wasn't admitting any weakness to either of the men with him.

"So if the two of you already got married, why are we having the shindig tomorrow?" the General asked.

Casey shook his head. "Because neither Riah nor I are brave enough to tell either of our mothers we denied them a wedding."

"Good call," Adderly said. "Ariel's waited a lifetime to plan a wedding for one of her daughters. She'd never forgive Mariah for excluding her. Of course, Emma's probably off the hook now if she wants to be."

"That's the little sister, right?" Paul asked. "Pretty little thing like John's Mariah."

"When did you become a dirty old man?" Casey asked, feigned incredulity.

"I have an appreciation for pretty girls, John, like any man, and the two of them are definitely pretty girls," the General said with a grin. "To paraphrase your girl, I may be old, but I'm neither blind nor dead." He puffed on his cigar and watched Casey closely. "On the other hand, I really like your pretty little girl. If anything happens to you, I'll be glad to see she's taken care of."

Adderly moaned again. "That's my little girl the two of you are drooling over."

Casey grinned. "She's my wife. I get to drool over her." He jabbed his cigar at Paul. "He, on the other hand, ought to know better."

"Well, now, John," Paul said, and lifted his glass, "the night I met your wife you weren't exactly very attentive. She's not only pretty, but she's intelligent, well-spoken, well-mannered, dances well, and has excellent taste in movies and bourbon. I like a woman like that. Can't blame me for trying when you were nowhere to be seen for most of the evening."

"I was on the job," he grunted. It was true, though it sounded like a lame excuse. He had mostly left Riah to her own devices that night, and she and the General had hit it off well enough it had caused a considerable amount of gossip.

"There's evidence being on the job doesn't prevent you from paying far too much attention to my daughter," Adderly observed.

Casey gave him a glare. "Not. Helping."

His father-in-law ignored him to tell Paul, "I sent her to Banff. He," and he jerked a thumb in Casey's direction, "was supposed to be her backup." V. H. eyed Casey then, shooting a brow up. "That means, since the NSA clearly didn't teach you this, Casey, stay out of the way and let her work. Instead, the next thing I know, I'm being told he's decided to be a bit proactive and climbed in her bed."

He shook his head. V. H. knew damned well that was not what happened—or not exactly what happened—but Casey realized he could work with Adderly's version. "Riah's the one who decided we were sleeping together, and as I recall, you're the one who told me to stick close to her."

"Not that close," Adderly said with a grin.

Casey cocked his head. "You're the one who told the hospital I was her fiancé."

"That wasn't an invitation."

Drawing deeply on his cigar, Casey eyed him. "Sounded like a good idea to me. Sue me." He shot a look at his watch.

"Got somewhere to be," Paul drawled.

He picked up his glass. "No."

"We boring you?" Adderly asked.

Swallowing the last of his scotch, he set the glass back down. "Just wondered when you were going to quit complaining about the fact I gave in to your daughter when she seduced me and provide me with that fatherly advice you threatened me with."

"Well, the first bit of advice is to quit letting blondes seduce you."

Casey snorted at that. He noticed Paul did as well. "That would be you, not me. I'm a one-woman man."

"I'm glad to hear that," Adderly said. "I would hate to have to shoot you."

"Yeah, yeah," he growled, lifting his cigar again. "Get on a plane, shoot me, plan a funeral, comfort your daughter, pretend to be sorry I'm dead. What else you got?"

Adderly grinned. "So you were listening."

Casey quirked a brow. "It beat the alternative at the moment."

Paul asked, "What was the alternative?"

"Naked French spy," Adderly told him.

The General shook his head and lifted his cigar. "Female?" At Adderly's nod, he sighed. "Boy, I can't decide if that means you're dumb as a box of rocks or pretty damned smart."

"Considering he was already married to my daughter, I vote for Option B."

Paul and Adderly chinked their glasses and drank. Casey signaled the waitress. "Definitely Option B. Not only did I not want him to shoot me, I really didn't want to have my wife do it for him. It was bad enough when I got home and had to explain."

Adderly's brows shot up. "Care to elaborate on that?"

They ordered another round. When the waitress left, he said, "Your daughter damn near killed me as it was." He left the angry sex out, but he described the argument and then lifted the cigar once more. "I never want to see her that mad again as long as I live."

"She's slow to anger, but when she blows," her father said, "everyone needs to get out of her way."

"Amen," and Casey clinked his glass against Adderly's. He finished his cigar and ground the stub out. "Riah apologized rather prettily, though."

Paul's brows shot up this time. "Let me get this straight. You were with another woman, a naked other woman, and when you got home and your wife finished ripping you a new one, she's the one who apologized?" He shook his head. "I may have to revise my opinion of your pretty little girl's intelligence."

Casey was irritated by that implied slur to Riah, and he was about to explain that he apologized first when Adderly looked at him. "Do I even want to know how she apologized?"

That, of course, required him to retrench. "With her mouth—on various parts of my body." Sometimes, Casey reflected, the truth was a beautiful thing. For a second, it looked like her father was going to be ill, so Casey relented. "Actually, I had to do a lot of apologizing and some pretty earnest appeasement." Adderly groaned. Casey continued, "After your daughter was finished ripping me to shreds, she made it up to me."

"Never go to bed angry," Paul said sagely.

"Well, that's advice I could have used before I got home that night," Casey told him. "She was already in bed and mad as hell. I didn't stand a chance from the moment I crawled in with her."

Casey declined another drink when the waitress stopped by, but Adderly and the General both ordered refills. "Afraid you can't hold your liquor?" V. H. asked.

"Unwilling to risk having a hangover tomorrow," he corrected. Then he gave his father-in-law a smug grin. "After all, I have a wedding night to attend."

"Thanks for reminding me you'll spend tomorrow night molesting my daughter."

Casey sighed. They were right back where they started. "I don't molest your daughter. We've covered this already." The waitress gave him a startled look as she sat glasses of scotch in front of the other two men. He almost explained what she had just overheard and then decided there was no need. She sat a glass of water in front of him. He hadn't ordered it, but he appreciated the thought and thanked her.

When the girl had moved on again, Casey picked up with, "I love your daughter very much."

Adderly sat back. "I know." If the man knew, then why the hell did he needle him about his relationship with Riah? "She loves you, too, but that doesn't mean you're the sort of man I wanted for her."

"Alright," he said, "but she's old enough to make her own decisions. She chose me." And that, Casey thought, as he picked up the glass of water, still amazed him. He could sympathize with his father-in-law's point of view. Adderly knew the sorts of things he had done, had known him for more than twenty years, and even if Casey had generally been on the right side in what he did, he wouldn't want his own daughter to marry a man who had done what he had.

He was also aware of how fortunate he was, how lucky that Riah knew and understood what he did—had done—and didn't hold it against him. She had been on the receiving end of the kinds of things he had done to others, and it hadn't turned her against him. She loved him. Him, not the man in the dossier her father had given her before sending her to Los Angeles, despite knowing he was that man in the dossier. She had done the job as well, maybe not the exact job he had done, but she had been a part of the world where men like him did what they did. It didn't seem to bother her, though he didn't know if that was because she was able to ignore what he had done or if that was because she understood the need for men like him.

Casey decided it was a good thing he'd switched to water.

Paul Patterson ground his own cigar out. "You're a lucky man, John," he said seriously. "As I told you once before, that little girl is head over heels in love with you. Remember to deserve that."

V. H. observed the two of them. He lifted his glass. "What he said," he seconded.

Casey sat back once more. "I intend to."

They talked about many things over the next few hours. When the bar closed for the evening, V. H. said good night in the lobby. He was staying in the hotel while Casey and Paul Patterson were headed back to the apartment in Echo Park, and Casey gave a few minutes thought to how he could get to Riah. It would be child's play to tap the hotel's registration records, find her room, and find a way to enter. With his luck, though, Ariel would greet him with a loaded weapon. He resigned himself to going home alone. Not completely alone, he acknowledged, since Paul Patterson was staying in Riah's old room that night.

After Casey drove them back to the apartment, Paul admitted he was tired and ready to turn in as they entered the courtyard. Casey spied Bartowski trying to get his attention. He let the General in the apartment, told him he'd be right back, and went to see what Chuck wanted now.

"You better not have flashed," Casey ground out. "I promised Riah nothing would happen until after the wedding."

"No flash," Chuck said, but Casey heard a note in the kid's voice that told him something had happened and he really wasn't going to like what that something was.

"Spill," Casey ordered.

"Morgan lost the ring."