by ROCFanKat

Disclaimers: See Chapter 1.

Chapter notes: Extra credit to everyone on this one. Thanks to Rocky, Lyraine, and D.J. for the usual incisive advice, and then some. Thanks to PatsBard for the help with the first section. Not least, additional thanks to D.J. for some whiz-bang editing, especially in the last section.

•••

When the newscast broke for commercials, I finally worked up the nerve to look at Cassie. As expected, she was staring at me in mute horror, and looked as though she'd been at it for a while.

"I had no choice," I told her.

No response.

"She asked for it."

Still no response.

"You liked the attitude this morning," I said irritably. "You practically attacked me in the parking lot."

She didn't answer, but her eyes narrowed slightly, in a way that I knew all too well. Small-craft warnings began to fly in my head.

"All right, it might have been a little much. But I had to do something. She asked me..."

"You kissed her," Cassie said abruptly.

Was that all? "Not really. I was trying to scare her."

"You were trying to scare her," she repeated.

Suddenly uncomfortable under her weight, I shifted on the couch. "Well, it worked. She ran like a rabbit. When the police..."

"I want to understand this," she said, in a dangerously reasonable tone. "You were trying to scare her. By kissing her. Correct?"

"I didn't exactly."

"You didn't exactly. I see. And what did she do? Exactly?"

"You saw the tape. The part where it went crazy is where she ran over the cameraman. She just about jumped out..."

"That's not what I mean."

I knew it, but nothing good could come of that conversation. "There wasn't time to think, Cass. She was a problem. I solved it."

"Of course you solved it. You're associate creative director in charge of sex. What else would you do?"

"You're missing the point," I told her, starting to get defensive. "I was trying to teach her a lesson. That camera was supposed to be off. She lied about it. So her cred goes right down..."

"Oh, there was a point in that. And you taught a lesson, too. You amaze me, pookie. I really..."

"Don't call me 'pookie,'" I said, between gritted teeth.

"...didn't expect you to try to convert the whole female population of the county on the 6:00 news, but..."

"I wasn't converting. Would you just let me explain? I was..."

"...the witch let you off the leash, and now..."

"Stop now, while you can," I warned her.

"No. I'm nowhere near done."

"Cassie, don't make me mad."

"Don't make you mad? I'm not the one who goes around kissing every hussy who's had her shots."

Exasperated, I pushed her off, got up, and got way out of her immediate vicinity. "She was going after you next, Cass. If you think I was going to let her get to you--if you think I'm going to let anyone get to you--you're insane. It was either kiss her or kill her, and I would've had a lot more fun the other way. What did you expect me to do? Just stand there and..."

"What do you mean, you would've had more fun the other way?"

I raised an eyebrow. She still looked furious, but her tone had just softened dramatically.

"Are you trying to tell me that you didn't enjoy it?" she asked.

"I'm not trying--I am telling you. And I didn't even do it. I would sooner have kissed an iguana. The woman..."

"Iguanas don't have lips," she said matter-of-factly.

"That's not the point. The point is...the point is..." I fumbled for something, anything, to fill in the blank and finally, in absolute frustration, kicked the nearest thing as hard as I could. Unfortunately, the nearest thing was the brick hearth. That was going to hurt. "Oh, hell, Cass, I don't know what the point is anymore. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

There was a very long silence across the living room. "An iguana, huh?" she finally asked.

Relieved, I smiled just a little. "Maybe a gecko. Something in the lizard family. I don't like any of them much."

"And technically, you didn't kiss her?"

"Of course not."

"Devvy? Honey?"

Thank God that was over. "Sweetheart?"

"You didn't just break your foot, did you?"

"Not in these shoes. Maybe just a toe."

"Then you'd better get it in water right away. I'll go start the whirlpool."

"Will that help?"

"If you're lucky," she said.

•••

After about the 10th ring, Cassie sent me to answer the door. She thought she was temporarily incapacitated, and besides, she still had about half a glass of wine left. If I hurried back, she said, she'd make it worth my while.

I didn't even bother to dry off--just threw on a robe on the way to the front door. It was only Chip, Troy, and Heather, though. Damn, I'd forgotten about them. Heather was holding a videotape, most likely of the evening newscasts, so I would have to let them in for at least a second.

"You were supposed to call, weren't you?" I asked.

"We did call," Chip said. "We called your cell number, just like you said. Didn't you turn the phone on?"

Oh. What with one thing and another, I'd forgotten. "Never mind. Come in. But only for a minute."

They followed me into the foyer. Chip made a point of averting his eyes, which seemed strange until I remembered that I was standing there soaking wet in nothing but a terrycloth robe.

"You probably already know this," Heather remarked, "but you're not dressed. Did we get you out of the tub?"

"Whirlpool."

Troy's face lighted up. "Cassie's got a whirlpool? Where?"

"Master bath. It's just a little...Hey!" I grabbed him just in time. "She's in it."

"Then what are you doing leaving her alone?" he asked, halfheartedly pulling against my grip in a futile effort to see around corners. "People drown in bathtubs all the time!"

"Nice try, Troy."

He shrugged. "Can't blame me."

"No. But don't try it again." Brushing wet hair back out of my eyes, I turned to Heather. "So what's on the tape?"

She didn't answer right away; she was busy glaring at Troy, who was busy pretending not to notice. Interesting.

"Tape," I prompted.

Reluctantly, she broke off the ray on Troy and answered the question. "Newscasts. We thought you two would want to see them all, so we made a tape."

"We do. We'll run it later. Thanks. Now, if you don't mind..."

"Dev?" she asked.

I was already halfway to the door, which I intended to deadbolt behind them. "What?"

"Why are you limping?"

"It's nothing."

Heather, not persuaded, came over to see for herself. "I don't know about that. Your big toe's kind of purple. Does it hurt?"

Not much. Cassie had applied some highly creative therapy, so the toe not only didn't hurt too badly, but was also in a very good mood. There was no reason to share that information, though. "It's all right. Just a bruise. Goodnight, Heather. We'll see you tomorrow."

Chip and Troy, taking the hint, headed out the door. Heather finally did, too, but then stuck her head back in.

"How did it happen? Did Cassie stomp you for kissing that reporter from Channel 12?"

"I didn't kiss her!"

"You didn't? It sure looked..."

"Don't believe everything you see," I snapped, and slammed the door.

•••

Somewhere in the dead of that night, something yanked me out of bed, and I hit the carpet like a rock.

"What the hell...?"

"Apt choice of words," Monica said.

Grimacing, I raised my head off the floor a couple of inches. The hem of her black gown was practically in my face. I made a point of pushing it away, then grabbed a piece of the comforter and pulled myself up.

"Speaking of words, I want a few with you."

"That would make one of us," I said.

"Maybe I haven't made myself clear. This is not an option."

"It will be when Cassie wakes up," I said, louder than I'd intended. I glanced over, expecting the object of my affection to have risen from her grave by now, spitting flames, but she hadn't even stirred. That was more than just odd; I'd hit the floor so hard they'd probably heard the thump in China. "Cass?"

"She'll sleep through this. I want to talk to you in private."

I leaped back into the bed, pulse pounding as I checked Cassie's. It seemed regular, and so did her breathing. "If you've done anything to her, I swear..."

"I would love to hear the end of that threat," Monica said, "but I have more important business with you. I want to know what you thought you were doing this afternoon."

"You'll have to be more specific. I had a pretty full afternoon." I wasn't feeling as brave as the backtalk sounded; that was nothing new. But trying to squeeze Cassie's limp fingers for reassurance without looking weak in front of Monica, and discovering that my palms were sweating--now, that was new. "What did I think I was doing when this afternoon?"

"When you kissed that blonde harlot from the TV station."

Of all the things I'd been expecting, that was the very last. "Blonde harlot?"

"You know very well what I'm talking about."

Suddenly, it occurred to me that I did. I'd been in trouble for the same thing all evening--first with Cassie; then with Heather; and now, apparently, with Monica. But why? Wasn't this just what she'd wanted?

"I'm waiting," Monica said ominously.

"You can wait till your hometown freezes. I don't owe you any explanation."

"You owe me everything. In case you've forgotten, you're not a free agent. Why did you kiss her?"

"Do you think I'm a fool?"

Unwisely, I was about to answer that question when it dawned on me: Monica didn't know that I'd stopped just short, any more than Cassie had. Trouble was, Monica was supposed to know. After all, she was still my demon.

...Wasn't she?

"I could send you to the very worst part of Hell," Monica warned.

"What? The Kathie Lee Gifford section?"

"Don't tempt me. I could do that."

"And what would you do for an encore?"

Her eyes flared into red coals as she took a step back and raised one arm, index finger pointed straight at my heart. "This is your only warning, Devlin. I own you. You can't beat me by playing my game. If you ever try defying me again, I'll throw you to a pack of Alabama Baptists."

"You're slipping, Monica. You used to know everything about me. If you still did, you'd know the only threat you could make that would do any good..."

"I could send her with you," she snapped.

"She'd probably insist."

The fires abruptly went out in Monica's eyes, and for an instant, she looked uncertain. Then she shrugged, laughing it off. "Damning her would be redundant. She's already yoked to you for all eternity."

"Now, just one damn minute..."

"No more games," she growled--and disappeared, without the pillar of fire. But this time, she left a whiff of sulfur behind.

I sat in the dark for a long time, thinking. Finally, I stretched out next to Cassie and bear-hugged her within an inch of her life. After a few seconds, she began to stir.

"Devvy?" She sounded half-asleep, but otherwise totally normal. "Is something wrong?"

"Not anymore."

•••

(c) 1999 ROCFanKat

Continued - Part 13