No Need To Circle Part 3 of the "The Future Is Ours" Series by Staci Kaufmann November 2001 "Veronica, what is it? What happened?" She looked up and saw Audrey staring down at her, concerned. Betsy's voice floated out of the back, yelling that nothing had better be broken. Customers were crowded around the counter, but J.D. wasn't among the onlookers. Audrey watched the other woman's eyes dart over the crowd frantically, and she waved a hand in front of Veronica's face. "What. Happened?" she asked. She'd heard a crash and almost immediately after it, a thump, as Veronica had fallen to the floor. Now her coworker looked panicked, and was even paler than usual. "Man. . ." "Someone did this?" Her own gaze darted over the crowd, wondering if someone had gone unexplainably nutso and knocked her over. If so, for his own sake he'd better have gotten out of the donut shop. Rude people and the occasional lech she would deal with, violent people she would not. "Who? How?" "Black. . ." "A black man?" Audrey asked, trying to make sense of her monosyllables. "No. . ." "Who, then?" "Here." "I gathered that he was here, Veronica. Who was he?" "Ghost. . ." Audrey shook her head, feeling like she'd dropped into the middle of Labyrinth. Any minute she expected to hear David Bowie conversing with a goblin. . . "You remind me of the babe.." "What babe?" "The babe with the power." "What power?" "The power of voodoo." "Who do?" "You do." "Do what?" "Remind me of the babe..." With an exasperated sigh, Audrey got up out of her crouch and opened the cooler, grabbing a cup of ice water and dumping it on Veronica's face. She coughed and gasped, then sat up and rubbed at her face. "What the hell was that for?" "To make you wake up. Now what happened?" "I . . . I accidentally grabbed the sausage biscuit tray with my bare hand and then, to make matters worse, I thought I saw someone I knew who died several years ago. His . . . well, his death made the papers for a little while, but you know how it is." "Yeah," Audrey said, as the customers went back to their seats. "People talk about you one day, and then something new comes along and your story, no matter how important, becomes passé and the gossip experts move on to something else." She laughed and shook her head. "You ever get the feeling that we never get completely out of high school?" "All the time, Audrey." Once again, she saw J.D.'s eyes in her mind, mocking her. "All the time." Then she shook her head, deliberately discarding the melancholy, worried mood that was trying to overtake her. She'd been spooked, and now she was wanting to babble because of it- when what she truly needed to do was drop the subject as quickly as possible. "Anyway, guess pain makes you hallucinate," she said, pitching her voice to a 'ha ha, silly me' tone for the benefit of her coworker and anyone else who was still listening. Audrey grabbed the cloth and picked up the tray, tossing the biscuits in the trash. "Well, you're lucky you didn't land on this thing," she said, as she set the tray on the counter to be cleaned. "I take it this 'someone you knew' isn't a guy you remember fondly?" "No," Veronica said curtly. Audrey raised her eyebrows, but left it that that as she went back to clean the tray and explain to Betsy that yes, everything was under control now. ******** J.D. walked down the street, a pleased smile on his face. That had been absolutely perfecto. The smile turned into a grin as he again saw the surprise and disbelief on Veronica's face, just before her eyes had rolled back in her head and she'd collapsed onto the floor. He wanted to dwell on that some more, but right now, he had some arrangements to make for tonight. ******** Veronica got home and almost immediately started shaking. She'd laughed it off at work, but she was positive that she hadn't been hallucinating, pain or no pain. Her past had suddenly come back to haunt her . . . although 'haunt' probably wasn't the correct word. J.D. had looked very much alive- and smug, as usual, she thought angrily. Then she paused, startled by how quickly he was coming fully back into her thoughts, into her existence. Damn it, she had seen him die! Did you really? some irritating little voice in her mind asked. Or did you just see smoke and mirrors? She sat down on one of her chairs for a minute, muttering at nothing in particular, and then went to get her diary. She wrote for almost an hour, despite the pain in her hand. She wrote about how she had let him back into her life so easily because he'd never really been out of it. About how maybe a part of her had never believed him dead. About how if the bastard thought he could come wreck her existence again after almost thirteen years, he was very badly mistaken. Then she put down the pen and set her monocle down next to it, ashamed and infuriated to see that as soon as she stopped writing, the shaking came back. Again. She was going to have to face off with him again; she knew it. After all this time, she wasn't sure if she could handle it. Not alone. But she didn't know who the hell to talk to. The police? Oh, that would work beautifully. 'Hi, I'd like you to arrest my ex-boyfriend. His name? Well, here's where it gets kindof sticky. See, he's supposedly dead, but he's really not, apparently it was part of a plot to get away from our high school, where he'd killed some of the students and oh by the way, I helped him, but that isn't important after all this time, right?' Yeah. If she brought the police into it, they'd start digging, and then she was definitely dead. As dead as you're going to be anyway if you don't get some kind of help, she thought bitterly. You don't think that he's back after all this time to ask how you've been doing and to sign his class yearbook, do you? She didn't have any close friends in town, not even anyone at the newspaper whom she got along all right with, and- Then she thought of someone and paused. She might not have made any somewhat-friends at the newspaper, but she had made one at the donut shop. Her decision made, Veronica decided to call it a night early. And hopefully, she wouldn't dream. ******** Adia sighed as she opened the door to her home. It had been a long day. Her car had started making weird noises, and she'd waited for almost three hours at Fayenson's small auto repair shop while the mechanic looked it over, and once all that was finished she'd had to run out to Wal-Mart when two of her light bulbs burned out and she'd realized that she didn't have any spares. All in all, she was looking forward to just falling into bed and sleeping for about a week. Maybe two. Her exhaustion disappeared in an instant rush of fear when the door clicked shut behind her- and music immediately started to play, coming from down the hall. Specifically, from her bedroom. She twisted the doorknob again, ready to turn around and run, when suddenly she recognized the song. "Adia, I know I've let you down Don't you know I tried so hard to love you in my way. . ." Her hand frozen on the doorknob, she peered down the hallway, looking for any sign of movement. Part of her mind screamed that she shouldn't be waiting at all. The song was just a coincidence or something, and any minute her door would fly open and she wouldn't be able to make it outside in time. . . And wouldn't that just make a lovely front-page story if people knew the truth about you, she thought wildly, her eyes still locked on her bedroom door. 'Killer Killed in Own Home: Didn't Run the Hell Away Because Her Murderer had Good Taste in Music'. But that wasn't the entire reason she hadn't fled and she knew it. Despite how crazy she knew it was, she felt. . . She felt like she had the night J.D. had first tapped on her window. Which was absolutely, completely, and thoroughly insane. Logic and instinct warred for a moment, and finally both won. Instinct made her walk toward her bedroom; logic made her detour quickly to the kitchen first and grab the carving knife. If there was some crazed mental-institution escapee in there or something, he was going to get one hell of a surprise. But whoever it was clearly wanted her to know that he was there. Which meant that he was probably ready for a surprise. Well, if he was, then he was, she decided as she quietly placed her hand on the knob. Que sera sera. And she threw open the door and pounced inside. "I knew it was a good idea to stay on the other side of the room. Jesus, Adia, can't you give me a friendly greeting for once?" The knife fell to the floor, hardly making a sound on the thick carpeting. Adia leaned down slowly to pick it up before she could do something like step on it, her eyes never leaving his face. This was impossible. She couldn't be seeing him here; it had to be some sort of mental specter. . . But if it was, wouldn't she be seeing him as he'd been when she'd first met him? He looked older- of course he did, some part of her mind muttered; he's thirty just like you are- and his dark hair was longer now, brushing his shoulders. And his hand . . . what in the world had happened? Before she could form the question, her eyes rose again to his face. There were changes, yes, but many things were still the same. The amused look in his eyes, the sardonic smile, the arch of his eyebrows as he regarded her expression. "Well, at least you didn't faint," he said. "Poor Veronica, I thought she was going to have a heart attack earlier today. . ." "Veronica?" Adia asked, her entire mind finally wrapping around the conclusion that she wasn't imagining things. "Friend from Sherwood, Ohio," he said. She smiled slightly. "You mean girlfriend." The smile immediately turned into a false pout. "You forgot me that soon?" "No. I never forgot you." He smirked. "Clearly, or I wouldn't be here, now would I?" She grinned at him. "Good. Because otherwise I might have had to start learning how to imitate your handwriting." J.D. laughed, not missing the way she'd tilted the knife blade in his direction when she'd said that. "God, I missed you." "As well you should have," she immediately replied, as she set the knife down on the dresser. Then she looked up at him again and smiled. "I missed you too." Adia sat down on the end of her bed and laughed quietly. "Now, I have to admit that I'm curious- why did you nearly give your 'friend' a heart attack? Aside from the fact that you're you," she teased. "Scaring her there, surprising you here- you think I could resist any of that?" He shook his head. "Even when I checked my research three or four times, I couldn't believe it. The both of you in the same fucking town." "Life is funny," she said, wondering exactly what had happened during his time in Ohio. He'd said that Veronica had fainted when she saw him . . . she wouldn't have reacted to him like that if she hadn't known exactly what he was capable of. . . "Is Veronica a wolf too?" she asked. He smiled slightly at the reference. "Not exactly." Curiouser and curiouser, Adia thought. The other woman knew what J.D. had been like, wasn't a killer like she was, but had been left alive anyway. She supposed that it was because of his 'suicide'- after all, there wasn't really much point in going to the police about someone who was dead. And there wasn't much danger of her going now, either. After all, by now she was probably convinced that she'd seen a ghost. They were both silent for a moment, watching each other, and then Adia asked the first thing that came to mind. "So what happened to your hand?" He glanced down and then shrugged off the injury as if he'd forgotten it had even happened. "Minor miscalculation." "I guess so," she said, raising her eyebrows. Then she sighed and glanced away as she spoke again. "I went looking for you. Not too long ago. Did some research of my own; dug up some articles in the library." She glanced back over at him, giving him a wry grin. "I'm sure you know what I found." He moved over to stand in front of her, a little startled. He'd never really pictured her trying to find him as well . . . he'd thought that she'd seen the news bulletins, and any thoughts of setting the record straight with her had been cut off back then with plans of leaving everyone he'd ever met behind for good and starting a completely new, anonymous life. Now, looking down at her, J.D. decided that he'd lived down to the entire 'young and stupid' cliché with that decision. Adia felt his eyes on her but kept her gaze directed at the floor, momentarily frozen by all the memories that had suddenly crashed into her mind, so full and clear that it was as if she hadn't ever tried to block them out in the first place. Damned disobedient thought processes. She smiled suddenly, realizing all the careful circling that they were both doing. It was almost like the night they'd gone out to the field behind the high school . . . in a way. Because then, although she hadn't truly realized it until later, they had been meeting as predator and prey. Now, they were meeting as equals. So what need was there for circling? She glanced up at him, tapping one of the buttons on his trenchcoat. That was another thing that had stayed the same- she didn't think she'd ever seen him not wearing it. "Question. Do you ever take this thing off?" He grinned. "Question. Do you want me to?" She bit her bottom lip and pretended to think it over as she reached out and unbuttoned the top button. "I don't know. . ." Another button. "Such a tough choice." Others. "Going to have to think about this. . ." The last one. "Not something to be taken lightly, you know." She stood up, sliding the coat off of his shoulders and linking her hands behind his neck. "Have you guessed my decision yet?" she whispered. His answer was a kiss. And Adia knew that if she wanted to leave it at that tonight, now was the time to say something. She didn't. J.D. had asked her once what she was waiting for . . . now he had his answer. ******** Later, Adia lay next to him, smiling, her eyes closed as she listened to the silence in the room. The CD had long since stopped. Well, she thought absently, how was that for a 'hello again, how have you been doing'? J.D. glanced over at her as she giggled. "Dare I ask what brought that on?" "Probably not," she said contentedly. "Question." "If it's anything like the last one, ask away." She laughed. "Why did you come looking?" she asked. "After all this time?" He was silent for a moment, not precisely sure even now what the catalyst had been. "I finally realized that I'd made a wrong choice." She lightly swatted his arm. "Took you long enough." He caught her hand and pulled her closer. "In that case, what's your opinion on making up for lost time, darling?" "Guess my answer. . ." ******** The next day, Veronica walked up to Audrey as soon as the line died down for a while. "When do you take your break?" "About twenty minutes. Why?" "Mind taking it a little earlier?" Audrey glanced at the people in the donut shop, and Veronica gestured to the seats near the counter. "We'll stay inside. That way we'll know if anyone else needs help, okay?" The blonde girl nodded and Veronica sat down next to her. "All right. This all might sound a little strange, but . . . well, it's about yesterday." "When you fainted?" "Yeah. That man I thought I saw- I didn't hallucinate him, Audrey, I'm sure of it. He was actually there." Audrey frowned, puzzled. "I thought you said he'd died." "I thought he had," Veronica muttered. "This guy . . . he was someone I knew in high school. And he's an extremely bad man. I don't know why J.D.'s here after all this time but. . ." "You think he's stalking you?" "I wouldn't put it past the son of a bitch." Audrey's eyes widened and she looked around furtively, as if she expected to see J.D. materialize somewhere in the shop. "Okay. So you want me to call the police?" "No, not . . . no." She looked up as the door opened and a woman with two crying children came in. "Dammit, I can't talk about this here. Can you meet me at my house after work today, I live at-" She glanced over at her slight coworker and sighed. What was she doing? "I shouldn't even be getting you into this." "Ohh no. You don't get to mention something about some weird ex-classmate of yours stalking you, say that I shouldn't go to the police about it, and then not explain anything else. Forget it." Veronica smiled. After all, if it turned out that Audrey didn't want to get involved once she knew the whole story, no harm done. ******** ". . . and that was the last time I saw him, until yesterday." Veronica took in the other girl's astonished expression and wondered what her final reaction would be. She'd told the story of her involvement with J.D. at Westerburg High- for the most part. She never mentioned how she had, even for the shortest time, wanted Heather and Kurt and Ram out of her life irrevocably. She did mention how many times J.D. had tricked her- the bullets, the 'game' in the woods, somehow switching the hangover-cure cups. . . "I was an idiot," she'd told the other girl, smiling bitterly. "But what can I say? Just another girl-falling-for-the-wrong-guy story. This one turned out worse than most, though. . ." Audrey hadn't said a word throughout the entire explanation. Now she stood up and paced around the living room. "I still think you need to call the police, Veronica. You don't have to mention those students at Westerburg. Just tell them that an ex is stalking you, get a restraining order or something. . ." The thought of getting a restraining order against J.D.- or rather, the thought of him paying attention to one- made Veronica laugh. Audrey stopped pacing and frowned at her. "What? That's what you're supposed to do in this kind of situation. I mean, if this guy's stalking you they can stop him!" "Audrey, you don't get it. They cannot stop him. Only I . . . we . . . can do that," Veronica said, waiting to see if the other woman would balk at the pronoun change. She did, slightly. "I don't know, Veronica . . . assuming that he comes back again-" "He will." "Okay. My point is, should we really be trying to confront him?" "Audrey, he's killed people. I don't want to join the list- and I don't want anyone else to either. If you want, leave. Just don't tell anyone about this, okay?" "All right." Veronica nodded sadly. Part of her had known that her coworker would leave- most people would, she was sure- but she'd still hoped. . . "Thanks for listening." Audrey grinned. "I meant, all right, I'm in." She winked. "Hell, this is prime time material here. Defeat the bad guy, help make America safe, win against all odds. . ." Her smile faded as she heard the bravado in Audrey's voice. "This isn't a game." Her coworker sighed and sat down on the couch again, dark eyes holding no amusement or bravery now. "I grew up on horror movies, all right? He might have seen me come in here, and you know what happens to the people who are in the wrong place at the wrong time. He might have already associated me with you, outside of work. I know it's not a game." Neither of them said anything for a moment, each lost in her own thoughts about the step just taken. Then Audrey glanced up and smiled. "So, what's our plan?" ******** At work the next day, Veronica wished that she could have told the other woman something other than, "I have no idea". But she'd had no choice but the truth. As much as she hated to admit it, the ball was in J.D.'s court. She had no true proof that he was even still in town . . . and a gut feeling couldn't count as hard evidence; she wouldn't let it. If he was still in town, there were two basic choices as to where. Either he was at the hotel- and she couldn't really pull anything there- or he'd tricked some new woman into letting him stay with her. Well, knowing J.D., he was probably going to waltz right into the donut shop again and wait for her to replay her fainting scene. To hell with that, Veronica thought. She wouldn't give the bastard that kind of amusement again. She was so busy thinking about what she'd do or say when he came up to the counter again, that she nearly screamed when he met her at the bottom of the basement stairs. Before she could make a sound, however, his hand was pressed against her mouth. "Jesus, Veronica, you never used to be this high-strung." Then he frowned. "Oh wait . . . yes you did." The frown turned once again into his usual sarcastic smile. "Promise you won't scream?" She nodded. She knew it wouldn't do any good, anyway. This place had two sets of stairs- one that led to the back room of the donut shop, and one that was on the opposite side of the basement, that led to the parking lot. If she screamed, he would be gone . . . and Betsy would surely fire her this time for causing another incident. He took his hand away and stepped back slightly, and she stayed where she was. "What the fuck are you doing here?" "Hostile and paranoid, too. Really, anyone who didn't know better might think that you were starting to lose your mind, Veronica." "Don't start playing games with me. Those won't work again." "Hate to tell you, darling, but they didn't work last time. At least, not nearly as well as the ones you played on yourself." "Shut up!" "And what are you going to do if I don't, start singing 'Mary Had a Little Lamb' again?" Veronica gazed at him, wishing that he would just disappear out of her life again for another decade or so. Because this was almost the worst part of it . . . hearing him refer to incidents that, until now, only she had remembered. As long as she was the only one who was aware of them, who acknowledged them, she could pretend for short periods of time that they didn't exist. They hadn't truly happened, she'd just made them up for some satire piece in the Fayenson Times. . . "Veronica!" Betsy yelled. "You get lost down there?" "No, I didn't!" "Great. Then hurry up!" "Meet me here," J.D. said. "Tomorrow, at 2:00." Veronica turned back to him, but he was gone. She looked around the shadowy room and shivered, almost expecting to feel the cool metal of a gun in her hands again. . . She shook her head quickly and went to get the box of paper towels. If she came upstairs without them Betsy would just send her down again, and she wasn't sure if she could walk back down these stairs right now. . . Stop that, she thought. You're going to have to do it again- and soon. She apologized to Betsy before the woman could start ranting at her again, walked back into the front room- and froze when she saw J.D. standing at the counter, talking to Audrey. She knew that he'd had to go out to the parking lot, but she hadn't thought that he would double back and . . . then that thought faded as she shifted her attention to her coworker. The other woman was smiling shyly at J.D., and Veronica knew the expression in her eyes perfectly. It was the same look that she herself had surely worn in high school, before she'd known the truth. She'd never told Audrey exactly what he looked like. Why the hell hadn't she done that? As Veronica watched, frozen in her self-recriminations, he reached out and tugged gently at Audrey's ponytail. The blonde woman grinned, and then her expression turned apologetic as she glanced at a woman who'd just come up to the counter. J.D. nodded to the older woman as he turned to leave. "I'll see you later?" Audrey asked. "Definitely." Audrey quickly got the customer a cup of coffee and then turned around, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, Veronica, there you are! Did you see him? Oh my god." She grinned again, looking as if she would dearly love to do something impulsively cheerful like turn a cartwheel. "He said that he was walking by and he happened to look in the window and see me and he just had to say hello . . . Veronica?" Her wide smile faltered slightly. "Are you okay?" And then she realized why the dark-haired woman wasn't smiling back and closed her eyes. "That wasn't. Veronica, please tell me that wasn't him?" "That was him." "Dammit." Audrey sighed and leaned against the counter. "And to think there was a time when I thought that that 'all the handsome men are either married, gay, or serial killers' joke actually was a joke." Though she'd tried to make her voice light, she hadn't succeeded. "That . . . that means he knows about me, doesn't it?" "Not necessarily. He probably just figured that it'd freak me out to see him flirting with you." "Yeah, well, it freaked me out worse," Audrey said, her hands fiddling nervously with her ponytail. "After everything you told me, I mean-" "I know." "I'm definitely going to wash my hair when I get home." Veronica laughed quietly, then told Audrey about what had happened down in the basement. Once she was finished, Audrey responded in a whisper. "Tell me you're going to call the police now. Please?" "No. I'm going to meet him. He hasn't actually threatened me, and I can't prove what happened at Westerburg- even if I wanted to. This stays between us." Audrey took a deep breath, then put on a semblance of a brave smile. "So what do you want me to bring to the meeting?" Veronica smiled. "How about a nuclear bomb?" "Hello, excuse me? What do I have to do to get some service? Save your babbling for later, hm?" Both of them turned to look at the woman who'd just walked into the shop, sighed, and got back to work. ******** J.D. quietly walked into Adia's house, then raised his eyebrows as he heard the radio playing loudly in the kitchen. Adia was sweeping the floor- or rather, half-sweeping and half-dancing around the room in time to The Rascals's 'Good Lovin'. He leaned against the wall and raised his eyebrows. "I may be insane, I may be a sociopath, I may be absolutely fucking nuts- but at least I've never danced around with a broom." Adia whirled around, giving him an embarrassed smile. "Who knows, if you'd stayed quiet for a minute longer I probably would have started singing along, too." "Thank god I spoke." She laughed and threw a dustrag at him. "And besides, don't knock dancing around with a broom. A lot of people do that while cleaning, even if they don't admit it." He grinned. "Well, would you rather dance with the broom or with me?" "Cleaning can wait." She propped the broom against the table, then smiled and closed her eyes as he put his arms around her. "So, I'm assuming you had an eventful day?" "Mmm-hm. And it isn't over yet." "That sounds like it might be ominous news for somebody . . . what's going on?" "Nothing much." Adia glanced up at him, then decided to let it alone- for now. Besides, she had more . . . interesting things to concentrate on at the moment. She closed her eyes again and listened to the song that was playing, temporarily banishing the world that existed outside of this room. "The touch of your voice The feel of your eyes on me You leave me no choice Though I know there's danger there I don't care, let it be To get it bad with a man who says never May have no future, but then I just could be the woman to reach you And teach you to never say never again..." ******** "Should I be there with you when he shows up?" Audrey asked. "No. For one thing, he might already be there. And either way, I don't know what he'll do if he sees you. He's playing some kind of damn game with me and you aren't part of the equation. He might just get rid of you right off." Audrey shuddered at that, and Veronica immediately winced. "I'm sorry. Look, I'm . . . I'm really tired after everything that's happened today, I'll talk to you about all of this tomorrow, all right? And we'll figure out some kind of game plan then." "We'd better," Audrey said. "Clock is ticking and all that." Veronica stared off into space, seeing bright red numbers clicking down toward zero as students stamped and cheered above her head. . . "Veronica?" "Hm? What?" "I said I'll talk to you tomorrow. You going to be okay?" "Sure, no problem." "Okay. Goodnight." Audrey shut the door, and Veronica watched her walk to her car and drive off. Then she walked back into her bedroom and took out her diary. Regardless of what she'd told Audrey, it was going to be a long night. Five hours later, Veronica sleepily picked up the ringing phone. Dammit, she had been about two minutes away from beating her insomnia. . . "Hello?" "Hello, darling. Did you miss me?" Veronica was glad that he couldn't see her, she was sure that he would laugh at the way she'd nearly dropped the phone. "Haven't you outgrown things like prank calls by now?" "If this was a prank call, I already would have asked if your refrigerator was running." "Never mind!" Veronica said. "I don't care if you think it's a prank or not, I know you're still playing your stupid fucking games! Why did you call me?" "Maybe I just missed hearing the sound of your voice." "Go to hell." Veronica started to hang up, then froze when he spoke again. "I suppose I could just call Audrey and listen to her voice instead. . ." "You stay away from her," Veronica whispered. "This has nothing to do with Audrey." "Wonderful. Then you won't mind if she and I have a little fun before I meet you tomorrow." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "You saw how she looked at me today, Veronica. We both know if I knocked on her window she'd let me in." Veronica sat up in bed, nearly yelling into the phone. "She would not! I told her all about you, asshole, so stay away!" "Thank you, Veronica," he purred. "That was everything I needed to know." And he hung up. Veronica stared at the phone in her hand, horrified. Then she hung up and leapt out of bed, searching frantically for her phone book. Finding Audrey's number, she quickly dialed it. "Hello?" "Audrey, you need to get over here now. No, never mind. He's probably expecting that- lock yourself in the bathroom or something, okay?" "What? Veronica, it's past midnight. What's going on?" "J.D. just called me. He . . . he knows about you, and I think he might be coming over to your house." Audrey was silent for a moment, and then she let out a choked little laugh. "Wonderful. Are you sure I can't call the police?" "Go ahead, try to offer them proof," Veronica said bitterly. "They'd give you some lip service and watch your house for the night to make you feel better, and then he'd get in as soon as they left if that's what he really wants." "That's comforting," Audrey whispered. "If you see a bright glare, it's because I'm turning on every single light in my house. . ." Veronica shut her eyes. "I'm sorry." I'm sorry I tipped him off, I'm sorry I got you into this in the first place. . . "Look, I'm coming over there." "And if he's expecting that instead? No, we'll both stay where we are. I'm taking your advice and locking myself in the bathroom, all right? And I have my butcher knife." She paused for a moment, then laughed. "Geez, I feel like Jamie Lee Curtis in Halloween or something. And Veronica?" "What?" "If I do hear him out there someplace . . . I am going to call the police. Him breaking into my house would definitely be proof enough for them." Veronica gave her approval of the plan and then hung up, wondering if she should have told the woman what she was truly thinking . . . that if J.D. had made up his mind to go after her, she would never have time to dial. J.D. leaned against the phone booth for a moment after he hung up, smiling. She was so fun to bait. And for all she wanted to be 'master strategist' here, all it had taken were a few well-aimed taunts and she'd given away her sole advantage. He quickly walked to her house. Her car was still in the driveway, and there was a small light on in one of the front rooms. He made his way up to the window and found a gap in the curtains, peering inside. Veronica was sitting on the couch, writing in her diary. As he watched, she suddenly slammed the book and then threw it across the room. For an instant, her eyes locked on the window, but J.D. knew she hadn't seen him- she was seeing a memory. He was seeing it too, in a way- only then she'd been plainly furious instead of both angry and scared, and she'd also been only too happy to accept the distraction he provided. Now, he was the problem she needed a distraction from. The times they had a'changed. J.D. smiled. "Sweet dreams, Veronica." He kept a watch on her house for about ten minutes, but she didn't leave. And when the light in the front room went off, he began walking back to Adia's home. Definitely interesting. She was surely convinced that her ally would be attacked tonight, because of her own carelessly uttered words . . . and yet she was staying inside. Positive that a friend would be hurt, but doing nothing. Just as earlier, she had surely guessed that he was lying about the bullets, but had done nothing to deter him? No, wait a minute. The analogy there wasn't perfect. She'd deliberately missed Kurt at first, and then had complained about his death at her hands later on. So, in this situation, she'd probably done something equally pointless and equally designed to make her feel better. So, Veronica's coworker had probably gotten a phone call an instant after he'd hung up. He could just imagine that conversation. Veronica had probably told her to be careful, and to stay home for the next couple of days just to be safe. By which time, all of this would be settled. Still smiling, he started to open Adia's front door, and then paused. He should talk to her tonight. Give her a full explanation of what was going on- maybe even ask her to come with him when he went to meet Veronica. He knew that he should. Hell, there wasn't any true problem with getting her fully involved in all of this. It wasn't as if she hadn't done things like this before. And it certainly wasn't as if she was in any kind of danger from him anymore . . . she wasn't the simple 'eventual loose end' that she'd been when he'd first set his sights on her years ago. Then he sighed as he realized the truth. She wasn't in danger from him. But, no matter how carefully he planned things, there was danger. "Goddammit," he whispered. It was true. He was trying to fucking protect her. The White Knight Syndrome had finally hit him. He got a sudden image of himself- trenchcoat instead of armor, Harley instead of a white horse, a .44 instead of a sword- and laughed. "Fuckin' perfecto," he muttered as he opened the door and stepped inside. He'd give in to the whole idiotic 'noble' impulse this once. After he'd dealt with Veronica, he'd explain everything to Adia and then- Then, he didn't know. He'd never been one for advance planning beyond 'what's happening in this particular town', and now didn't seem like the time to start. He went into Adia's bedroom and turned on the light, picking up the note that was on her pillow. 'Got tired of waiting here. Guess you're gonna have to find me.' J.D. raised his eyebrows and then walked back out of the room, waiting to find a clue or hear telltale laughter. The shirt she'd been wearing that morning laying on the floor of the kitchen, J.D. decided, was probably a clue. Her jeans were a short distance away, on the stairs, and J.D smiled slightly as he followed the trail of clothing. Leave it to Adia to not be satisfied with something traditional like breadcrumbs. When he stopped in front of the door to the upstairs bedroom, she peeked out and grinned at him. "Congratulations, you won." "Lucky me." He smiled and held up her bra. "Not exactly subtle, darling." She stepped fully into the doorway. "I'm not a subtle person. You complaining?" ******** The next morning, Adia sighed and glared at the offending sunlight that was coming in through the window. "The one flaw," she muttered. "Now I have to go and find all my clothes." "Adia?" "Hm?" "You're assuming that I'm going to let you out of this bed." She laughed. "I have things to do today." "Oh, really?" "Yep. Important things." "Like what?" "Ummmm...dammit, I knew a minute ago." She grabbed his hands. "Stop that! I'm having trouble thinking." "Why do you think I'm doing it, darling?" ******** "So I stayed in the bathroom, complete with the phone and the butcher knife, until about ten o'clock," Audrey laughed. "It got to where I was almost scared to open the door. Thank god that we have today off." "Yeah," Veronica said, glad that her coworker was all right. And she fully agreed with Audrey's last sentence- she was also supremely grateful that the donut shop was always closed on Sundays. She already had to deal with a psychopathic murderer at 2:00, damned if she wanted to listen to whiny customers today as well. Now the two of them had less than an hour before Veronica needed to be in the basement. "So anyway, what sounds better- Fawn Alloverme or Morami Tulov?" "What?" "For my Bond girl name. I swear, I went to Wal-Mart before I came over here and I was like this," Audrey said, slinking along the wall and pretending she was holding a gun while she hummed the James Bond theme. Veronica sighed. "Please tell me you don't mean that literally." She grinned. "Me? Of course not." "Dammit. . ." "I'm sorry," the blonde said. "I know I've been driving you nuts lately, with all my jokes and everything, but I really do take this seriously." "I know, Audrey." "I'm scared. I mean, really. I thought I was pregnant once in high school and a few years ago some idiot almost ran me down as I was riding my bike but this. . ." "I know," Veronica said again, handing the woman a .44. Audrey took it, somewhat reluctantly. "We're probably not going to make it back out of there, are we? At least, not both of us." "I hope we do. But to be completely honest, if it has to be one of us I can figure it two ways. One, I beat him once before and I can again; or two, my luck ran out when I was in high school, and there's a new sheriff in town now." The other woman smiled slightly, but there was nothing amused in the expression. "But you have to remember something else, too." "What?" "Sometimes the good guys win." Audrey grinned honestly this time. "Yeah. So, are we ready?" Veronica finished loading her own .44. "I hope so." "How long do you want me to wait before following you in?" "Ten minutes." "That long?" Veronica nodded. "If I can't even last ten minutes on my own with him, I've lost anyway. And no kicking-in-the-door movie shit with this. I don't want him to know you're there until you're breathing down his damn neck, all right?" "All right." "And I'd like to say, 'run if the shit hits the fan', but I don't think that's going to be possible. One way or another, this ends today."