(MEL)

I feel hands on my shoulder and expecting it to be Joe checking on me for the tenth time, I don't look around. "I'm fine."

"Yes you are."

I try to turn and face the voice but the pressure on my shoulders prevents it. I look over my shoulder and met the smiling blue eyes of Chris Gaines. His gaze rakes over my face, lingering on the mask. "I can't believe you wore that."

"I didn't plan this. Joe got it. I didn't know how to get out of wearing it without telling him things I'd rather he didn't know."

Chris snorts and traces a finger along the line where the blouse keeps slipping off my shoulder. "Surely he already knows you dark side well enough."

My hand goes up to smack him, but he catches it and kisses the tender spot inside my wrist. He starts to sing, his lips close enough to the skin for me to feel their vibration.

What raging fire
shall flood the soul?
What rich desire
unlocks its door?
What sweet seduction
lies before
us . . .?

Why is he singing to me? Why is he singing a song from Phantom of the Opera? He looks up and my heart skips a beat. "Is Joe man enough to whisk you away to his cavern, or did you wear that mask to make me do it?"

"This isn't about what happened between us…"

He let's go of my wrist as if it burns to touch it. "Isn't it always? One of us is always caught up in that part of our past."

I shake my head, "No, we only have trouble when we both get lost in those memories."

Chris sneers, "Then you should leave before we end up doing something I'll regret for the rest of my life."

Of all the things we have said and done to each other, he's finally found words that hurt me. He's never said that I was something he regretted. I knew that he and Morgan had reconciled and that whatever our little fling was, was over, but it sounds like he hates me. How can he hate me for being the person he wanted, apparently needed, me to be?

I feel tears hot against the back of my eye, just waiting for me to let the flood down my cheeks. But there is no way I will let this man see me cry. I tilt my head back, stubborn and proud. "I told you this isn't about you. You aren't the only man on the planet."

He runs his thumb over my bottom lip. "That might be true, but I doubt Joe Ross can keep up with you." I shudder in anger and something I can't admit to; desire. He's always been able to push my buttons, and he knows it. I've been trying to deny that I looked forward to seeing him when we were together again. I knew he wasn't over Morgan, but I took what he had to give for as long as he'd give. "What are you gonna do when you have to finally admit he's not man enough for you? What are gonna do then?"

He steps back and blows me a kiss that everything but sweet before he turns his back on me. How can he be jealous that I'm here with Joe? I'm not his. He's not mine. And Joe and I are just friends. I take a deep breath and then another and try to compose myself before I head over to talk to Garth and Trisha and act like I'm happy to be here.

It's not even close to New Year's but I think it's time for a resolution. No more men. I'm never going to find anyone close to right for me anyway. I found him once, and he's gone. There isn't another one like him, and I'll have to get used to the fact. I reach into the pocket of my skirt to get the red lip gloss out for a touch up and feel my cell phone vibrate. I take it out and look at the message on the screen. 1 Missed Call. The text icon is visible in the corner or the screen. I don't want to talk to anyone just now but I open the text message.

"Happy Halloween. Wish I was there to steal your treats."

I roll my eyes and send a reply. "If you were here, I'd give you all of them."

I close the phone and drop it back in my pocket. The kids are having a blast, and that's the only reason I won't pack up and leave. That and I have no intention of doing anything at all to make Chris Gaines happy, ever again.

*****

(MEL)

The simple drum beat sounds familiar, but with all the music in and around my life the last few years I don't spend much time trying to pinpoint it. Joe is walking toward me. "Dance with me?"

I don't really want to dance, but I saw what happened between him and Chris a little while ago, and Joe is my friend. He's done so much for me since Griffin died, there is no way I would refuse such a simple request. I offer him my and he takes it and leads me to the dance floor.

The words start and seem to weave between us. The song is in Spanish but it doesn't matter to me. It's beautiful, and I learned the language a long time ago. Between the housekeeper, the barn and farm hands, and the jockeys, I probably heard more Spanish than English some weeks. My parents' weren't very hands on, but I learned from their mistakes. I have help for cleaning only. My kids know who their mother is and they know I love them.

Siboney yo te quiero yo me muero por tu amor
Siboney al arrullo de la palma pienso en ti
Ven a mi que te quiero y de todo tesoro eres tu para mi
Siboney al arrullo de la palma pienso en ti


Joe puts a hand on my hip and another on my shoulder, we start to sway to the simple beat and he asks, "Do you understand what it's about?"

I sigh, "It's just another love song, Joe."

"Yeah I hear te quiero."

"That's all you need to know. Just dance with me and let the words roll around you and off your back. It's just a song."

He's full of it. He's from California. He knows a lot more Spanish than just 'te quiero' and 'cerveza'. But if he wants to play dumb, who am I to stop him. A song about dying without someone isn't really something I want to hear either, but the music feels good, and being held by someone who actually cares about me as a person, and doesn't want just sex it pretty nice for a change.

Siboney de mi sueño si no oyes la queja de mi voz
Siboney si no vienes me moriré de amor
Siboney de mis sueños te espero con ansias en mi caney
Siboney si no vienes me moriré de amor
Oye el eco de mi canto de cristal

Joe steps closer and I put my head on his chest, I can feel his steady heartbeat against my cheek. I take a deep breath and actually let it back out again. There's no reason to be tense or on edge around this man. I'd forgotten what that felt like. It's like I've pushed all the good things I learned about love with Griffin into that closet in the back of my mind with all the other memories that hurt. I went right back to the habits that were so bad for me before.

Siboney de mis sueños te espero con ansias en mi caney
Siboney si no vienes me moriré de amor
Oye el eco de mi canto de cristal
No te pierdas por entre el rudo Manigual

The song ends and Joe and I just stand still in the quiet of the night.

A moment of peace.

Who would have thought I'd find it here?

******

(JOE)

The DJ switches modes just a little. Mel starts to walk off the dance floor and I pull her back to me. "Come on, we're already out here. Let's dance another."

She rolls her eyes, and says, "I expect pancakes for breakfast."

"Breakfast in bed. Just one more." I promise her. I get an idea and run up to the DJ. It's a Halloween party after all, we need something in the spirit of the season. I make it back to Mel and as the DJ finds what he was looking for. "You can Foxtrot right?"

Mel blinks and her eyes go wide, "Yes, but…"

I slip an arm around her and kiss her cheek. "It's like riding a bike, I promise."

The song starts and the sound of Sinatra just makes it natural to start to move.

Those fingers in my hair
That sly come hither stare
That strips my conscience bare
It's witchcraft

Mel giggles and I feel my lips curve into a smile. It is corny, but it's a great song. The foxtrot is a simple dance, but when you know what you are doing it's easy enough to dress it up a bit. I dip spin her out and back up close. The dance lessons she probably hated as a teenager weren't wasted. She's got a flair for this. I've always had a feeling she was born in the wrong time. Big bands, and dresses and pearls would really suit her.

And I've got no defense for it
The heat is too intense for it
What good would common sense for it do
cause it's witchcraft, wicked witchcraft
And although, I know, its strictly taboo

When you arouse the need in me
My heart says yes indeed in me
Proceed with what your leading me to

Its such an ancient pitch
But one I wouldn't switch
cause there's no nicer witch than you

As the song ends, instead of dipping her like I planned I sort of drop her to the ground, stopping her a safe four inches from the ground. I am amazed that she doesn't freak out, but is instead is wearing a huge grin. I pull her up and she wraps her arms around my neck. "You are wonderful!"

I give her a shy look. "Been a long time since I've heard someone say that about me."

She wipes lipstick from my cheek. "We'll you've got me beat, because I've been called a Witch a lot, but never a nice one."

I kiss her hand, and smile down at her. "I don't know about the witch part. I kind of find you bewitching though."

Her eyes go wide, and her breath comes quick. Now she has the look of a frightened doe about her. But if I've crossed that invisible line we drew between friends and everything else a man and woman can be, I might as well see what the waters like. I lean down and put my lips to hers. For a moment nothing happens, but then she seems to make the same decision I did. Her hand goes up to grip my neck and my hands make it to her hips.

"We should go," I say.

She doesn't say a word. But she nods. That's good enough for me.

*****

(MEL)

The kids are all tucked in and I walk into the living room. This is going to be awkward. I have no idea what happened on that dance floor at Chris and Morgan's tonight. What bothers me more is I don't know what to do about it. I know that people say that sometimes you look so hard for something that you don't see what's right in front of you, but I really just don't think that's the case with me and Joe.

I don't think it has to do with our sordid little encounter that Dustin engineered either. I just think we found a person we can be friends with, without all that sexual tension and bullshit in the way. At least I thought so until tonight. Everything was going great until we danced the second time. Was it the romance of the music from a better time. Does Ol' Blue Eyes still have to ability to work some magic after all these years?

Joe hears me walk in and stands up and dusts his hands on the back of his jeans. "Nice fire," I say.

"Seemed like a good idea."

He has opened a bottle of wine and already poured me a glass. I know this isn't a good idea but I've never been known for making good decisions. "So I guess we should talk about what happened tonight," I say quickly.

"I guess we should," Joe agrees. "That wasn't why I asked you to visit, or why I asked you to the party, or to dance."

I nod, "I know that Joe, but it happened. What are we going to do about it? We can't leave it as this pink elephant sitting in the corner that we just pretend is a Ficus tree and move one.

He takes a gulp of his lukewarm coffee and puts the mug on the mantel and steps up close, as if we were still dancing. "I think should see if we've been missing out on something wonderful by acting like brother and sister all these months."

I raise an eyebrow, "So we just change paths and start something else?"

He shakes his head, "No, I know we'd have to take things slow and work things out."

"Why do we have to change anything? It's not broken between us. We don't need to fix anything!"

He puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. "But if we're missing out on another part of us, how can it be bad to find out?" I don't answer, because part of me is wondering if he's right. He senses my uncertainty and jumps on it. "One kiss, and if it was just a fluke we forget all about it."

"One kiss…"

He nods, "One real kiss, and if the spark isn't there we pop some popcorn and watch Dracula like we planned."

I nod. It feels so premeditated though. There's no romance in just walking up and jamming our tongues down each other's throats. I take a sip of my wine and then another to drain the glass. Joe takes is from me. "This isn't going to work."
"Sure it will. Just trust me." He smiles and slips his hands into my hair and lifts it up off my neck. His fingers are cool against the nape of my neck and I shiver just a little. He seems to change his mind and takes me by the hand and leads me to the couch.

"I'm fine," I tell him. "I doubt I'm gonna get all weak-kneed."

"Maybe I'm not worried about you." He smiles, "If this goes like I hope, I'm gonna be a little wobbly myself."

I have to give him points. He's saying all the right things. "How do we do this?"

"It's like riding a bike."

I snort, "Do you say that about everything? Dancing, kissing…"

He laughs, "No, just when I'm trying to convince you to get close to me."

Damn he's good. How in the world did he and Pam not work out if he's got stuff like this up his sleeve? The moment of truth won't get here any faster if we don't just go for it. I take a deep breath and say, "Come closer."

Joe grins, "Yes ma'am." He pulls me down onto his lap instead and puts both hands into my hair. I don't feel trapped or the urge to get up and run, that's a good sign, I guess. He tests the water by putting his lips sweetly, almost chastely to mine. I find that I like the soft warmth they offer. Since I didn't shy away, he comes back for more, this time lingering long enough for a little heat to build between us. With one hand sliding down my back to rest just above the waistband of my jeans, and the other curved around my neck, he presses his lips to mine again, this time touching his tongue to my bottom lip, as if asking permission to go further.

I'm stunned when my lips part without asking permission of the brain that is supposedly in charge of my body. I can't deny that I feel something when his tongue brushes against mine. We're human; we're supposed to connect like this, right? I put my hand to his cheek and love the feel of the stubble against my palm. I have no idea how long we sit there intertwined and oblivious. Well not totally oblivious.

I can feel just how aware of me and the fact that I am sitting on his lap Joe is. It's flattering I guess. How bummed would I be if we were doing all this and he didn't get turned on? But that's just biology, or chemistry. It has nothing to do with heart and my heart isn't in this. I open my eyes and find Joe watching me intently. "That was nice."

"Yes, it was." There's no reason to lie. He's a wonderful kisser. He's an attractive man.

We're quiet a moment, then I kiss him on the cheek, "Shall I make the popcorn?"

He actually blushes a little, and looks embarrassed. "That might be a good idea."

I cringe, "Sorry."

Joe puts a finger under my chin and holds our gaze steady. "Don't say that. Don't ever apologize for being you again. Today was a bad day for me, and I thought that I needed to prove something to…someone… myself I guess. But I don't, and neither do you." He smiles, "I'm a guy. The day I don't get turned on by kissing a beautiful woman better be my last day on the planet, because I won't be able to live with myself."

"You're a great guy…"

He puts a finger to my lips, "Save that speech for the next guy. I'm not the guy for you, anymore than you are the gal for me. We both know it. We just had to make sure."

So after all that drama we're okay. A bowl of popcorn, and two versions of Dracula later, we end up asleep on different ends of the couch. My feet are on a pillow in his lap and he's using the ottoman to make his end into a chaise of sorts. Maybe we aren't like brother and sister, but we come close to cousins. Just not kissing cousins.

At least that odd bit of sexual tension is gone. If we hadn't faced it and tried to see what that little spark between us on the dance floor was, one or the both of us would have always been wondering if we were missing something. It would have eventually come between us. There was that off chance that we might have been right for each other; friends have turned into lovers more than once. But I fall asleep wondering if there is someone out there for me. Do I get another chance now that Griffin is gone?

I sigh and can finally admit that I really miss belonging to someone. I miss having someone to love. That won't make it any easier to find someone to love, but it does mean that maybe when he comes along, I'll be ready to let him love me.

******

(BECK)

I've come to the conclusion Pam thinks my sudden re-appearance at Chris and Morgan's Halloween party is more a treat than a nasty trick. She might not have wanted my company after the party but that only last the one evening. The next morning she called to apologize even though I assured her no apologies were necessary.

She's coming off two relationships in quick succession and I'd be a fool if I didn't understand that she might want to take things slowly. I don't have the same relationship problems but I can't say I'm ready to jump head first into a serious romance either.

But I do enjoy Pam's company and I do want to spend more time with her. And lunch seems to fit that bill. Glancing in her direction as we're stopped at a red light I say, "At least we know we both like Italian food so that's a safe bet."

"We can definitely say we'll always have Italy," she quips and starts to chuckle. "You've eaten at Grisoles before though. Remember, my friend Clay owns it and cooks there."

I give her a nod as the light turns green. "Okay, okay I remember. And if I'm correct, its right up here." A couple turns of the wheel and we're in a great parking spot practically in front of the restaurant. I'm almost a little upset; a leisurely stroll from the parking lot might have been nice.

Pam is busy getting her purse gathered up and it gives me time to get around the car to open her door for her. I'm glad. Too often these days women are up and out of the car before you get the key out of the ignition. And getting the restaurant door open for them is just impossible. But Pam is different than all the busy, busy people in New York and L.A. I get the feeling she's used to having someone hold doors for her.

And even better she makes me want to do it. Wonder what she'd say if I told her she makes me want to do a whole lot of things. I don't even realize just how broadly I'm grinning at that thought until she climbs out of the car and pauses in front of me.

"Beck Wilson, you look the picture of the cat who caught the canary. Should I be worried?"

I half expect her to cross her arms protectively in front of herself but instead she's got quite the twinkle in those green eyes of hers. "Guess that depends," I drawl easily.

"Depends on?" she prompts.

"Whether you're the nervous or the adventurous sort?"

She snorts and claps her hand over her mouth, her eyes widening as if she can't believe she just made the noise and with that reaction there's no way I'm going to just let it go.

"Oh so you think I'm being funny." I give her a wink and slide my arm under hers, my hand gripping her elbow as I turn her toward the restaurant, hip checking the car door closed.

"Oh no," she protests, letting me propel her forward. "I'll bet you're one hundred percent serious." She might make me believe her if she wasn't grinning from ear to ear. I hold the door and usher her in before me. As she passes, she ask, "So you're a betting sort. You like to gamble?"

I decide to let her wonder a few minutes longer and its not until we're finally seated at a quiet table in a corner that I lean back in my chair, look at her and tap my menu. "Let me order."

"Well you're not going to get much food unless you order." She's quick to tease.

I lean forward, quickly snagging her menu and sliding it under mine. "For both of us."

Her eyes narrow. "Wait, didn't you interview Andrew Zimmern of Bizarre Foods that time? Didn't you eat like a grasshopper pizza or something?"

I nod, "And mosquito eggs and armadillo. I tap the menu, and there's fun stuff in here too."

Pam chokes on her sip of water, "Fun? You call that fun?"

I grin broadly. "I'm the adventurous sort." I shrug, "It's a bad habit."

She narrows her eyes at me. "And to think I let you order when we were in Italy. What exactly was I eating?" She's trying hard to look suspicious and I'm trying very hard to look serious. Too bad it's not working very well.

"You didn't have any complaints that I can think of." I raise my own water glass, clinking it against hers, then hold it up in a salute. "Too late for regrets, buttercup."

"It's never too late for regrets, Chance." She tips her glass to me in a salute. "But there is a point where you stop counting them and start looking forward to something new."

"You're in luck, my middle name is 'something new',''" I reply.

"Hmm, coulda swore you told me it was Martin."

I laugh and all the other diners look over at our table. "I had it legally changed, just last week. Thought I'd take it for a spin." The waitress comes back and I look at Pam to get actual permission to order for us both. I do, avoiding all but one strange menu item. I really do order the armadillo bites as an appetizer. If it's anything like alligator, it'll be like a chewy pork chop that tastes like chicken.

We talk about other menus and other places until the armadillo bites and our salads arrive. Pam points to my fork. "Ante up buddy. We try this together."

I have no trouble jumping right in. With all the years reporting from all over the world, I've come in contact with some pretty strange dinner options. Here I am confronted with something as simple as armadillo. I stab my bite and then on a whim offer my fork to Pam. She plays along immediately offering her fork to me. I count us down to three and we take our bites.

She starts to chew and immediately looks thoughtful. Ten bucks says she's trying to come up with a way to tell me my choice of appetizer sucks but just when I think I have Pam pegged, she turns the tables on me. Swallowing, she says, "A little chewier than crocodile but not as bad as octopus. I'll have to compliment Clay."

I'm pleasantly surprised. She's not like anyone else I know. She looks so predictable, but she really isn't. I wonder if she has any idea how intriguing she really is? I wonder also, if she's just as adventurous in other aspects of life, or if her creativity stops at dessert?

There's only one way to find out and I think this is one adventure that will be a little less dangerous, but just as intriguing and a whole lot more fun than most others I've been on this year.

**************

(MEL)

Joe holds the door open for me and I enter the restaurant, almost walking right into another diner. "Oops, I'm sorry," I instantly apologize, putting my hand out just in case the other person needs steadying. But if the muscular bicep I touch is any indication, I don't think he's going to topple over any time soon. "Sorry," I say again, then stare. I know this face. "Hey Beck, I didn't mean to walk right into you."

Beck's eyes widen as he recognizes me too. He leans in to change our greeting into a hug. "I never do get that lucky." He nods past me at Joe. I notice he's quick to dismiss my dinner companion. "How are you?"

I am a little annoyed at Beck's treatment of Joe, but this isn't the time and it certainly isn't the place to deal with that. "You're heading out right? I won't keep you. Call me okay? We'll catch up. Are you in town long?"

He shrugs. "As long as it takes. I'll call you." He looks Joe up and down and adds, "Seems we've missed a lot of stuff."

I nod, "It's easier to keep up with people across the ocean, sometimes, than it is those who live around the block. Don't you just hate technology sometimes?"

"Sometimes," he allows and pats the Blackberry on his belt. "But that's why most have on/off switches." There's another glance in Joe's direction then he turns, reaching for someone and I realize he hasn't been dining alone.

"Pam, you'll have to excuse me today, I think I've turned into the absent minded professor or something." I apologize for the second time in as many minutes, reaching out to hug her. "Awkward, I know. I'm sorry," I whisper. "I didn't realize Beck was still in town."

"Don't worry about it," Pam quickly dismisses my concern. Then she leans back and grins at me. "Just remember paybacks are a $#+%+." She gives me a wink and takes hold of Beck's hand without as much as a glance in Joe's direction.

"Ready to go?" he asks.

"Definitely," she says firmly. "I think its time for dessert."

We watch them go, and I turn to see how Joe is taking this. "That payback line," he says. I nod, "I'm not sure if it was for me, you, or both of us."

I put a hand on his arm, "We can go if you want."

He shakes his head. "No way, I'm not going to let my soon to be ex wife chase me out of one of my favorite restaurants. And Clay hasn't named me persona non grata yet." He holds out his hand to me. "You okay staying?"

I put my arm through his and give it a squeeze. "I've been talked about by a rougher crowd than this one, with less reason. I'm ready to swim with the sharks if you are. I might want something with tequila in it for courage though. Wanna get drunk in public or wait till we get home?"

"Would love to," he replies instantly. "But if I fell off the wagon I'd have even more problems than I already do. You can drink tequila for both of us; I'll reluctantly stick to milder libations." There's a note of regret in his voice, but he shrugs it, and the encounter with Pam and Beck off, by the time we're seated and start looking through the menus.

I get a wicked grin. "We could give these people something to talk about at least." Joe looks less worried than I would expect him to. Once we're seated, and our food is ordered, I look for something to cause some whispering. I see a piano tucked in the corner and get up and walk over to it and take a seat. Joe doesn't get up or try to stop me either. He does turn his chair around to face me though. He's ready for a show. Now I just have to decide what to play for him.

I run my fingers over the keys, thinking of a dozen different tunes and discarding them all. Closing my eyes, I decide to use a trick Griffin used to do whenever he was stuck. I let my fingers do the walking and it doesn't take very long for my voice to join in.

It's really the first song that comes to mind. I'll ponder over that later. I'm used to hearing this on guitar, but I've spent too much time around musicians to not be able to work it out. It may not be perfect, but it'll be good enough. I play a little more to get it right and then look up and smile over at Joe.

Too many shadows in my room
Too many hours in this midnight
Too many corners in my mind
So much to do to set my heart right
Oh it's taking so long I could be wrong, i could be ready
Oh but if i take my heart's advice
I should assume it's still unsteady
I am in repair, I am in repair

I sing and don't look anywhere but at him. My fingers know what to do, and I usually only look down at them when I play to avoid watching people watch me play. Joe smiles and gives me a little thumbs up.

Stood on the corner for a while
To wait for the wind to blow down on me
Hoping it takes with it my old ways
And brings some brand new luck upon me
Oh it's taking so long i could be wrong, i could be ready
Oh but if i take my heart's advice
I should assume it's still unsteady
I am in repair, I am in repair

I think on this for a second. I have taken my heart's advice too many times, but I have to admit that ignoring it hasn't really gotten me very far either.

I play over what would have been a guitar solo and I do look down now, letting my hair cover my face. This song wasn't supposed to be about me. I hadn't planned on letting it get to me.

And now I'm walking in the park
All of the birds they dance below me
Maybe when things turn green again
It will be good to say you know me

There's a hint of a smile on Joe's face and I can tell he's wondering where I'm going with this. A quick peek around the room tells me he's not the only one paying attention, several other diners are looking this way and there are even a few who've turned in their chairs for some unabashed staring. Focusing back on the ivory and ebony keys I watch my hands instead. Griffin loved to watch me play, he used to beg me to take a turn at the piano and once he got me there, it was usually a fight to get him to let me stop. Come to think of it, Chris was the same way. Even now he whines and pesters me until I play for him.

But I'm not playing for either one of them right now and I focus on the song, launching into the chorus with just the slightest hesitation.

You can be mad in the morning
I'll take back what I said
Just don't leave me alone here
Its cold, baby
Come back to bed
Come back to bed
Come back to bed
Come back to bed
Come on back to bed

Joe's expression has gone from amused to something between interested and annoyed. He's onto my little game, but I'm not sure he approves completely. The other part of him is still a guy and the idea that everyone in the restaurant thinks he has the pretty blonde all in an uproar has its appeal.

If you add in that most of the town knows who I am, and that I have Garth and Chris and Griffin in my past, me wanting just average Joe makes him pretty hot stuff.

What will this fix?
You know you're not a quick forgive
And I won't sleep through this
I survive on the breath you are finished with

I sing and think over it. Joe is a great guy. And if things had gone differently, maybe we would have tried out that type of relationship. But our paths have connected at times when we didn't need that sort of friend. Now I count him as a dear friend, and someone I can really lean on when the going is tough. I hope he feels the same.

You can be mad in the morning
I'll take back what I said
Just don't leave me alone here
Its cold, baby
Come back to bed
Come back to bed
Come back to bed
Come back to bed

It's almost a shame that I don't feel romantic towards Joe. He's handsome, he's intelligent, he's reliable. He is great with kids, and mine love him to death. There just isn't that spark. I think that the incident that brought us Katy killed that for us. If there ever was a chance for more between us, Dustin and his evil games ruined it

I can't think of being with Joe, without memories of Dustin and his manipulative ways coming to me. I'm grateful that other than than, Joe is as close to me as a brother. In fact, I'm closer to him than I have ever been with my real siblings.

The reasons are pretty obvious but the last thing I want to do right now is spend a lot of time dwelling on them. Michael is where he belongs, and Melody is where she thinks she belongs. And me? Well, lets just stay I'm still trying to figure out just where I fit in and right now, here seems to be working out just fine. Mostly thanks to the man seated at the table watching me. As I launch into the chorus once again, I glance up to see his expression now but a movement catches my eye and I look past the table toward the take out counter.

You can be mad in the morning
Or the afternoon instead
But don't leave me
98 point 6 degrees of separation from you, baby
Come back to bed
Come back to bed
Come back to bed
Why don't you come back to bed

I look down and make the decision to finish the song the way it was recorded. I could wimp out and just play, without singing. No one would really notice, but me. And I went into this feeling adventurous and wanting to get a reaction out of people. If this line doesn't get a reaction from one person the room, I'll be a monkey's uncle.

Don't hold your love over my head
Don't hold your love over my head
Don't hold your love over my head
Don't hold your love over my head
Don't hold your love over my head
Don't hold your love...
I play and sing the last line over and over until the song dies it's natural death. I let the last of the notes fade and take my hands off the keys. Joe stands up to give me an ovation, but before he can get that far, someone across the room starts clapping slowly, with his speed increasing the closer he gets to me. "Nicely done, Ladybug. Haven't heard that one in a long time."
I instantly disagree and hate myself for reacting to him. That's just what he wants and here I am delivering. As usual. "I don't sing it much."

Garth just grins, completely ignoring Joe who's staring at me as though waiting for a signal from me to get rid of the problem. "You do it well though," Garth retorts with a familiar smile.

Damn that man and his grin.

*songs are In Repair and Come Back To Bed by John Mayer

****************

(BECK)

Pam's mood doesn't seem to be altered by the unexpected encounter with Joe and I'm relieved. On the way to the car I was worried she'd want an early end to our day but turns out I was worrying for nothing. She was just as talkative as she was throughout lunch all the way to our next destination, and as soon as I pull up in front of the ice cream shop, she lets out a squeal.

"You're kidding me?" She looks out the window at the store front then back at me.

Now I allow just a little concern to creep into my tone. "Ummm, not really. I don't remember you being lactose intolerant or anything. You do like ice cream don't you?" Have we had ice cream before this? We had gelato when we were Italy but that's not the same, is it? I can't believe I'm sitting here madly trying to remember the difference in ingredients. War zones are a cakewalk by comparison.

"This is my favorite place to stop for ice cream!" She says. Thankfully she's ignoring my rambling. "I haven't been here in ages though."

"Well what are we waiting for, let's go in." Again I jump out of the car, and dash around to open her door, before ushering her into the shop. "Anything you want," I say, waving a hand around. "My treat."

Okay, maybe she's not rattled at seeing Joe but I'm beginning to think I am.
She glances at the menu, "I can't decide. You did a great job choosing dinner, you can pick dessert too."

She has no idea what dangerous those words could be if I were another sort of guy.

I have to wonder for a second how hard it would be to let myself be that kinda guy, for a change. I don't want to scare her off, but I sure as hell don't want to play it too cool and let her get away.

I look at the menu for a second and decide. "A banana split. We can share." I look over at Pam and she is nodding.

We get the ice cream in record time. Looks like someone is angling for a good tip and if the banana split tastes half as good as it looks, the waiter won't have to worry. I hand Pam one spoon and keep mine on the table. Pushing the ice cream toward her, I say, "Ladies first."

She reaches for the cherry on the top with her free hand and I tap her hand with my spoon. "Hold on buttercup, no one said you can have that."

She doesn't look too bothered by my observation, in fact I get the uncomfortable feeling she's looking at it as a challenge. Holding in my groan, I slide my spoon over top of the cherry before she can grab the stem.

"Hey!" Pam complains. "I'm not the one who declared it was ladies first. Don't start cheating now."

"Who's cheating," I object, blocking a sudden move with my free hand. "Hold on, hold on, this is a democracy, lets be fair."

"I am being fair," she insists. "Ladies first means that cherry is mine. All mine." She gloats, pointing a thumb at herself.

"No, ma'am. Ladies first means you can call it in the air." I reach into my pocket and pull a quarter out. I nod to her and balance the coin, ready to flip it. I flick my thumb and we both watch the coin rise up. Pam, without hesitation, calls out, "Heads!"

The coin lands on the table between us and we bump foreheads in our haste to see who won. Rubbing the small sore spot above my eye, I smile and say, "Tails. I win!"

"Oh fine," she says good naturedly. "I didn't want the cherry anyway. It'll leave more room for the ice cream." She waits until I lift up the cherry before she digs her spoon into the dish. Just as she's about to take a mouthful of the cool treat, I clear my throat and she lowers her spoon with an expression that clearly asks 'what now?'

"Close your eyes and open your mouth, "I prompt.

She gets a determined look on her face but I can see she's willing to play along after she's weighed a few pros and cons in her head. She sighs heavily to make sure I know she thinks I'm a lot of trouble, but she does close her eyes. Slowly she opens her mouth just enough for me to pop the cherry in. The whipped cream on the bottom the cherry leaves a tempting trail across her bottom lip. I look at it and decide then and there that I am that guy. Before she opens her eyes I lean across the small table and take the whipped cream back, the right way. Napkins are for losers. I plan on winning.

Now her eyes do pop open but thankfully she doesn't slap me or run screaming away. That's gotta be a good sign, doesn't it? "Mmmm, good," I say softly as I sit back down, my hand reaching for hers.

She clears her throat, then gives my hand a squeeze before she says, "A surprise with every sundae."

The kiss may have taken our date to the next level but it killed the conversation. I don't know where to go with small talk after that, and she seems a little distracted. I look at the quarter still lying on the table between us. "Go pick something off the jukebox," I suggest. "It'd be a shame for them to have something that cool and no one uses it."

Pam nods, but warns me off the pineapples on her side of the bowl. I hold my right hand up, in a scout salute, promising to leave it for her. She turns her back and I flip the little boat around so she just thinks I ate it. I watch her shift her weight from one foot to the other as she flips through the list of songs.

She finds something she likes and pops the quarter in. With her selection made she turns and comes back to sit down. She doesn't even blink as she takes the banana split and turns it back around to have the pineapple on her side, "Mirrored wall," she says before I ask how she knew.

Her smirk fades as the song starts to play. "This isn't what I picked."

I joke. "Guess it picked you."

Don't know much about your life.
Don't know much about your world, but
Don't want to be alone tonight,
On this planet they call earth.

You don't know about my past, and
I don't have a future figured out.
And maybe this is going too fast.
And maybe it's not meant to last,

But what do you say to taking chances,
What do you say to jumping off the edge?
Never knowing if there's solid ground below
Or hand to hold, or hell to pay,
What do you say,
What do you say?

At first she won't look up from her hand, motionless on the table. I reach over and take the empty spoon from her and put it on the napkin beside the ice cream. I put my hand over hers and give a squeeze.

She probably thinks I don't have a clue how she feels but she'd be wrong. I'm every bit as unsure and every bit as nervous as she is. We've both been through hell this year and we're just starting to find our way back. We've talked before about not wanting to jump into anything but at the same time I think we have to acknowledge there is something...a spark...between us.

I just want to start again,
And maybe you could show me how to try,
And maybe you could take me in,
Somewhere underneath your skin?

What do you say to taking chances,
What do you say to jumping off the edge?
Never knowing if there's solid ground below
Or hand to hold, or hell to pay,
What do you say,
What do you say?

She snorts a little under breath, and it makes me very sad that she's feeling so jaded about life and love.

And I had my heart beaten down,
But I always come back for more, yeah.
There's nothing like love to pull you up,
When you're laying down on the floor there.
So talk to me, talk to me,
Like lovers do.
Yeah walk with me, walk with me,
Like lovers do,
Like lovers do.

What do you say to taking chances,
What do you say to jumping off the edge?
Never knowing if there's solid ground below
Or hand to hold, or hell to pay,
What do you say,
What do you say?

Over the last line, I say to her, "What do you say?"

*'Taking Chances' by Celine Dion, off the CD 'Taking Chances'

**************

(JOE)

I stick my hand back into the bowl of ice water and wince. Its not so much the cold that gets to me as the glare Mel has been shooting my direction for the past hour. Guess that means she doesn't think I should be the candidate to defend her honor.

Finally I reach out with my free hand and grab the towel slung over her shoulder. "Okay, I think I'll live." Removing my other hand from the water I start to dry it off.

"Only because I'm letting you," she declares, crossing her arms. ALl she needs to do now is start tapping her foot and the image will be complete

"Letting me?" I ask.

She nods. "Yes. I should finish the job and bury you in someone else's back yard." She sighs, "What were you thinking?"

"What was I thinking? What was Garth thinking? Oh wait, that was fairly obvious." Wadding the towel up I toss it into the corner. "I was thinking that I was protecting you from a jerk who was just leading you down a path you really shouldn't be on. Sorry if I was overstepping my boundaries."

Mel sighs. "You don't have to take care of me."

I toss the towel into the hamper and mutter, "Someone has to."

She puts a hand on my chest and keeps me from walking part her. "No they don't. I'm a big girl."

I finish her sentence. "Who makes stupid decisions where that man is concerned. He's bad for you."
Mel arches an eyebrow. "Oh, we're going to talk about bad decisions now?"

"Oh no, we're not going down that path."

"Why not? she challenges. "I can think of a few times when you could have used someone to take care of you."
I open my mouth and shut it a few times. I can't argue with her, because she's right. In the end, I just walk past her and take myself into the living room and flop down onto the couch. I turn on the TV. Isn't this how middle America avoids conversation and sidesteps arguments?

Instead of making a scene or something mundane and normal, Mel walks over to the TV and unplugs it. "Now that won't be an issue," she says. She comes over and sits on the arm of the couch by my feet, with her feet on the cushion so that we are facing one another. "I don't want to talk about it either. I don't want to talk about Garth or the way he makes me feel, or the problems he brings up. But I think I need to."

I let out the sigh I've been holding in, relieved she hasn't started shouting at me, or worse. Reaching out for her hand, I say, "Look, I'm not trying to judge you. God knows I'd be the wrong person to do that but...." I choose my words carefully. "But maybe I'm just the person to talk to about...this...this sort of thing." I try to smile but it doesn't quite appear. "Just so happens I have a little experience in situations like this."

Mel sinks down onto the cushion and I sit up to give her room to curl up. I toss her a throw pillow and watch as she predictably tucks it to her chest and wraps her arms around it. It really is a shame we don't have any inclination to be more than friends. We get along so well. I think about the scene I walked in on earlier, her pinned against the banister, Garth holding her as close to him as humanly possible. The kiss was so intense that neither of them heard me come in. No one heard the door close. I just lost it. I know he's going to hurt her. No matter what his situation at home is, this thing with him and Mel will burn hot and fast like it always does. At least the thing with Chris is ...okay I can't explain the relationship she and Chris have, but there aren't any strings and they both go in knowing the score. It's been like that almost from the start for them. I don't get it, but they do.

But with Garth? Small wonder I decided to step in and put an end to things. Moving my hand, I'm reminded once again just how I did that. I'm going to have a bruise in the morning and so is he. I start to laugh, I can't help it.

Mel just stares at me.

"Sorry," I apologize. "But how in hell is he going to explain that black eye when he gets home?"

She narrows her eyes like she's going to yell at me all over again for punching him, but then she starts to laugh, "I shouldn't find that funny, but I can't help it."

I point out, "I mean we're not even together but you'd grill me to the ends of the earth if I came home sporting some evidence of violence."

Mel nods, "Damn straight!"

"Don't you wonder what he's going to say? Gee, don't know how I did that."

Mel snorts.

"No wait, I bet he says he walked into something."

"And somehow I doubt he's going to be willing to say it was your fist. But if the phone rings tonight...."

At the same time we both loudly say, "Don't answer it!"

When the laughter dies down, I look over and find Mel looking very sad. "Spill it."

She shakes her head 'no', but I won't let her have it that easy. "Tell me or I'll have to do something even stupider."

She sighs and looks down at her hands as she toys with the design on the pillow. "Why would he do that?"

"Do what?"

I need to know what her real question is before I can even attempt to answer for the big jerk.

"Why would he say those things, and follow me here, and kiss me?"

I take a deep breath. "Well he probably means the things he says, even if he shouldn't be saying them. He followed you home because he's not used to you running from him and it drove him insane. And I'm gonna take a big leap and say he kissed you because you're beautiful and you drive him insane."

She rolls her eyes. "But why? How can he do that, be that way when he's not free to really do any of it?"

I look at her like she's insane. Did a woman who was married to Chris Gaines just ask how a man could be unfaithful? Hasn't she been one of his gals on the side more than once?

I decide to just go for broke. "Ummm, sweetheart, have you looked in the mirror lately?"

She looks properly ashamed. "Do I bring this on? What do I do that makes them assume I'll just fall back into their arms?"

I clear my throat and roll my eyes. "Give yourself some credit. You're pretty unforgettable."

"But I'm also evidently pretty easy to walk away from."

"He's a fool."

"I don't know what to do."

"Do? You don't have to do anything. He's gone home where he belongs with his tail tucked between his legs. And if I have anything to say about it you won't have to worry about him bugging you again while you're here." I look at her, wondering what she's thinking. She's pretty good at hiding her thoughts, she always has been.

"But he won't stay away. And I don't want him to." She looks down again, and in a whisper admits, "I still have feeling for him." She keeps talking, "I really loved Griffin. He was everything I needed, but….." She gets up and runs upstairs.
Someday we're going to end up actually having this little soul searching session and end up talking about the serious things. I'm touched that she's willing to let me in like that. But I have to admit that I'm terrified at what's going to come out of my mouth when we do get around to it.

Leaning my head against the back of the couch, I cradle my injured hand in my good one and think I'm getting too old for all this drama.

*******

(CHRIS)
Morgan looks at the clock and admits, "Maybe you should check on them. I know I told you to stay out of it. I know I told you to leave it, but...."

"They're fine," I say, keeping an eye on Bella. She's currently inching her way toward the arm of the couch. Someone's discovered quite the daredevil streak. "How are you doing?" I ask Morgan.

She smiles, and it warms my heart to see it reach her eyes. "I'm better." She takes a sip of her tea and adds, "Thanks for being...we'll you."

I give as much of a bow as I can from my sitting position on the couch. "My pleasure, ma'am."

At the same time both Morgan and I holler, "Bella!" The culprit looks at us from underneath the fringe of her bangs, trying to appear as innocent as possible even though she's standing on the arm of the chair, about to plummet onto the cushion beside me.

I pick her up and sit her properly in the seat, which doesn't win me any dad of the year trophies. She gives me this scowl that I have seen so many times on her mother's face. "Your Mini Me is going to give me gray hair," I say.

"She takes after you more than she takes after me," Morgan argues; then she grins. "Besides it's your job to get grey hairs from your children. It's in the official Dad handbook."

I laugh. "But see that contradicts some of the rules in the RockStar Handbook."

"Oh I think your fans would think you were just as sexy with grey hair. It would make you look...."

"Don't stop there, woman," I warn.

"It would make you look mysterious."

I snort. "Mysterious. It'll make me look old."

Morgan grins. "Garth let his hair go gray. That didn't hurt him."

I roll my eyes, "But he's Garth. I'm not."

"Lots of other men have grey hair and are just as sexy."

I hold up a warning finger. "Don't."

"I wasn't going to say anything," she protests.

"Good cause if you mentioned Joe Ross I'd have to do something. Something bad."

She opens her mouth and closes it. "I wasn't thinking of him, but now that you mention it…hmmm."

"Bella, can you tell Mommy that she's wrong."

Bella shakes her head. "Daddy wrong."

The corners of Morgan's mouth move upwards but she doesn't laugh out loud.

"No baby, Mommy's wrong. Tell Mommy she's mistaken."

"Nope, Daddy wrong. Right, Mommy?"

Morgan laughs. "That's right baby girl. Daddy is always wrong." Morgan holds out her hands and Bella goes to her and climbs up into her lap. Morgan kisses Bella on the forehead. She looks me in the eyes as she tells Bella, "He can't help it though. It's because he's a boy."

Reaching into my pocket I pull out a quarter and flip it into the air, watching as it lands past the couch on the carpet. "Heads I go upstairs to check on the kids, tails I go downstairs to check on the other two" I give Morgan and Bella the evil eye. "Since the two of you don't seem to appreciate me here."

Morgan stands up and catches the quarter before it hits the table. "I'll take Bella up and start her bath, and check on the older kids." She smiles. "You can brave the Cave and see if we need to intervene." She points to the counter. "The coffee cake and fresh coffee is as good a reason as any to intrude."

"Sounds like a plan," I tell her and suddenly feel a little concerned as to what I'll discover downstairs. Mel won't be too happy once she realizes I basically lied to get her over here. And an angry Mel means a scared Chris.

***************