The Cotillion

"Long time, girl," Rayburn said in his over confident tone.

"Hello, Raymond," I said. Mistake. Never acknowledge an idiot.

"I knew you would remember me," Rayburn said, his hand closing around my elbow with way too much familiarity.

"I wish I had time to talk," I lied, "I have to get this fish into the fridge before it spoils. It's good to see you again though." I maneuvered my elbow out of his grasp. I tried to open the car door, but he was too close. "Excuse me," I smiled.

"Maybe you should let the fish spoil," Rayburn said, his smile growing, "let me take you out to eat. We'll hit a club. If I remember, you owe me a dance." He moved closer. The strong scent of alcohol was on his breath.

"Please Rayburn," I said, trying to keep it light, "I need to get home. I promised Peter dinner." I figured that the mention of Peter would end the discussion. I was wrong.

"That stick in the mud," Rayburn continued, "he doesn't know how to treat women." He moved closer, pushing me against my car. I held the wrapped fish between us. A horribly flimsy shield. "I'll make you queen for the night. Rock your world."

"No!" I said loudly. I pushed him back. He was stronger than he looked and barely moved in inch. He laughed as if it were a game. His eyes were tinged in a drunken red.

"No always means yes," Rayburn chuckled.

"No means no," A deep voice said. Franks large hand closed on Rayburn's shoulder and pulled him away. William immediately put himself between Rayburn and me.

"Who the fuck are you two," Rayburn demanded. It looked like he was considering a fight.

"Agents Henderson and Dolchee," William said with authority, flashing his badge and exposing his side arm, "FBI." I smiled at my heroes.

"May I suggest a cab, Sir," Frank said, pulling Rayburn farther away from me. I heard Rayburn mumble something back as he allowed Frank to escort him down the street. I let out the breath I was holding.

"Thank you," I said to William.

"Finally, some excitement," William laughed. Frank joined a moment later with a proud smile.

"Mr. Funderland has decided to call it a day and head home," Frank said, "I hope he didn't ruin yours."

"He tried," I said, "but not with America's finest on duty. I don't know how I can thank you."

"It was kind of nice stopping a crime before it was committed," Frank said, "maybe you could stir up some more trouble to give us something else to do."

"I'll see what I can do," I laughed. Frank and William smiled, said goodbye and headed to their car. I watched them go, thankful that they were there. I wasn't sure how I would have handled a drunk Rayburn if they weren't. I smiled to myself. Frank and William slid from the acquaintance to the friend category. I held back a chuckle as I realized I liked them following me.

"That bastard," Peter said when I told him about Rayburn.

"He was drunk," I calmed him, "I don't think it would have gone too far. Besides, I think Frank and William scared him pretty good."

"Tom and Jerry still downstairs?" Peter asked.

"They're on until 7:00, I think." Peter smiled and grabbed his phone. I laughed as he ordered the two a large pizza and drinks. I had no idea how many rules we were breaking, but friends took care of friends. Damn the rules.

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

My trial was a week away. I had almost fully moved in with Peter and his parents now considered me family. His father, Daniel, was a workaholic, but took plenty of time out to make sure I was welcome. He, like his wife, had little concern how I had met Peter. Peter was happy and that's all that seemed to matter. Which was good, since that is all that mattered to me.

I went home to gather more of my clothes. I have been moving them piecemeal into Peter's condo. He had given me an entire closet and half the dresser drawers. There was no ring, no ceremony, no license, but we were married in the heart. We started and ended each day with a kiss and shared the bathroom like we had been together our whole lives. More importantly, we could make each other laugh. We didn't even need words anymore. Something would strike my eyes as funny and a quick look at Peter would set him off as well. A wonderful connection I never wanted to see go away.

Agnus, unfortunately, was home. Her smile told me she would attempt to ruin my day. I tried to ignore it and moved quickly to my room, packing another box of clothes away.

"There are some discrepancies in Tremaine Marketings books," Agnus sang gleefully, "money is missing that is awfully close that the amounts the FBI was inquiring about." It felt as if a needle entered my heart. I continued packing while she leaned against the door frame obviously wanting to see my reaction. I did my best not to give her one.

"Embezzling is an awful, awful crime," Agnus continued, "I tried to make it clear to them that my daughter wouldn't have anything to do with that." There was a chuckle in her voice. I continued packing, praying she hadn't connected Raj to me.

"I told them that type of crime would get you fired," Agnus added, "and as no longer an employee of Tremaine Marketing, you would lose all rights to inherit the firm." I turned my head to her and cringed at her smile. "Those rights would fall to me as your father's next heir." I couldn't control my tongue.

"Bitch!" The company was my last tie to my father. It was his legacy and my duty to see that it remained strong. Why he ever put Agnus between me and that legacy was still lost on me.

"I'll take that as a guilty plea," Agnus laughed. Damn my mouth. She would delve deeper. If she uncovered Raj's complicity everything would unravel. I sped up my packing. I had to preempt Agnus. It would cost a large chunk of my inheritance, but I had Peter. He was worth more than a hundred companies. Sorry dad, I hope Agnus was worth it.

The weight of the defeat hit hard when I exited the house under Agnus' gleeful stare. I had wasted many years struggling to maintain my temper. Working impossible hours trying to outlast the bitch. It had been a waste. I tried to think of Peter and all I had gained. I needed his arms to quell the pain. He was in meetings again, so I wouldn't seem him until much later. The tears came while I waited at a red light. I had failed my father. It was his fault, but I failed nonetheless.

I pulled over into a big box store parking lot. Leaning my head on the steering wheel, I tried to slow my heart and stem the tears. I had cried too much over all that had happened. This was just something I had to let go of. The golddigger would be out of my life. I should be happy with that consolation prize. I was startled by a soft knock on my window. William was there, his face full of concern. I had forgotten my tail.

"I'm sorry, William," I said, after wiping my eyes. Frank was on the other side of the car, looking for some kind of threat I suspect, "I forgot you guys were there."

"You're not supposed to know," William chuckled. At least his humor made me feel better. I stepped out of the car when Frank came around.

"I just had some bad news is all," I said, talking to them like we were friends, "I screwed up a lot of things when I went to that dance."

"You seem happy enough with Mr. Charming," Frank injected.

"Yes, I do have him and wouldn't trade it for anything," I smiled, "It's just some of the costs are higher than I wished. I think I just lost my father's business."

"How's that?" William asked. I explained to them what I could, leaving Raj out of it. The will, embezzling my own money, and the probable cost of being so foolish.

"Agnus sounds like a Bitch," William commented.

"That's what I called her. Probably not a good thing to say given the circumstances." Frank laughed at my words. At least sharing my pain made me feel a little better. Sometimes you just need to put a voice to it and let some of it burn off. I laughed with him.

"Are you going to be all right?" Frank asked.

"I think so," I replied, "this is the second time I'm grateful to you guys." I surprised Frank by giving him a hug. I followed with William who hugged me back. I am sure I just violated a whole bunch of FBI rules. They could just tack it onto my sentence. At least the guys were smiling when they headed to their car and I was done with my self-admonishment. No point in second guessing if I can't have a do-over.

I called Brendan as soon as I got home. I hated leaving my lawyers in the dark, but I also didn't want them exposed to ethical dilemmas. I informed him where the money for the cotillion ticket, limo and hairdresser came from. He seemed to take it in stride, asking some probing questions to clarify issues. He was most interested in the dollar amounts and the provisions of the trust my father had saddled me with. I clarified what I could and he promised me everything would be alright. I was surprised when I found out that I wouldn't be taking the stand. "Some rights are best exercised," Brendan insisted. The Charmings trusted him, so did I.

Peter and I had been slowly switching our internal clocks. Since I didn't have my night work, he began working during the day and spent evenings with me like non-vampires. His abundance of meetings made me feel guilty. I was sure I had greatly wounded his business and healing it was taking an enormous amount of time. He assured me I hadn't done anything he couldn't handle. Every night, he would erase my doubts with love. I always found them again when he left the next morning.

The night before my trial was especially tense. I had spent the day feeling I had lost control of my life. Rebecca had called to say that she and Daniel would be in court for support. I was glad of the diversion her call gave me. Too much time to think is not good for the condemned. Peter had cleared his afternoon so he could spend it with me. He sensed my apprehension when he left that morning. I had to practically shove him out the door. I knew he had an important meeting first thing. I placated myself by playing a housewife. I cleaned and made a salad for lunch. I hated being a housewife.

I was busy cutting carrots when I felt a kiss on the back of my neck. Peter had snuck in and was rather pleased with his stealth. I turned into him and all the bad things in the world drained away. In each other's arms, we were unstoppable.

"Whatever happens tomorrow, know that I love you," I whispered once my lips had tasted him.

"And I you, no matter what happens tomorrow, or the next day, or the one after that," Peter added.

"So, I am screwed next week," I joked. We could always turn silly words into laughter. Peter lifted me off the floor with a deep hug, then reached past me to grab a piece of carrot.

"You were screwed the moment I met you," Peter said, throwing the carrot in his mouth, "now you're stuck with me." I kissed him, not caring that he was munching on the carrot. He reached for another piece and I slapped his hand playfully.

"Wait," I said, "let me put some in the salad." He laughed, backed away and held up the piece I thought I had stopped him from taking. "Salad," I demanded, pointing at the bowl full of salad. His eyebrows bounced and tossed the carrot into his mouth. Men! I dropped the knife on the counter and tackled him.

Peter let me win the brief wrestling match. I liked being on top, in control. Weeks of bowing to things out of my control and now I had the man I loved beneath me. He reached up slowly, some attempt to bring me closer. I took his wrist and pushed it back to his side. I lowered my head, my smile meeting his, and gave him my love. I felt his resistance fade, muscles relaxing. I broke the kiss and began unbuttoning his shirt.

"I am yours," Peter smiled. I tried not to laugh at the small speck of carrot in his teeth. I kissed the carrot away while I went to work on his buttons. Peter sensed my desire and allowed me to control our love. My lips found his secrets as he had found mine. It was the first time he had given up everything. We had shared often, but this time it was me giving pleasure and expecting nothing in return except tacit obedience. For a short while, I was the most powerful person in the room. Peter had given me his strength and I needed it more than he knew.

"I need to come home early more often," Peter whispered. I could feel his heart slowing as I lay on his chest.

"I don't want to be just a housewife," I said. I wanted Peter, but I also wanted something of my own. It was as good a time as any to clear things up, now that I had some strength back. I could feel Peter holding back a chuckle. I looked up, thinking he found my statement funny.

"You don't need my permission," Peter said, "though...if I disagree...does that mean I have a chance of getting tackled again?" The little boy whimsy in his eyes made me laugh. I slapped his shoulder and he feigned pain making me laugh harder.

"I just wanted you to know. I'm not sure how you see our future."

"I want you," Peter said, rolling me to my side, "I can hire a maid."

"I don't want to disappoint you. I have no idea what you're expecting and..."

"You," Peter repeated, his hand lovingly caressing my neck, "I am expecting you and no one else. I have the same worries, but every time I kiss you, they fade away. So I figured, I just need to keep kissing you." I loved when he was like this. Playful and meaningful at the same time. He was correct, kissing solved a lot of issues.

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

Walking into the courtroom was surreal. I had seen it on TV and been on a few tours in grade school. The one time I had been selected for jury duty, I was never called to serve. As a defendant, it was an imposing room. I walked in with my lawyers, hopefully presenting an imposing sight myself. I refused to look meek. If they were going to take me down, then it would be with a straight back and a proud face. Enough with the self-pity. I would take my lumps, solve the problem and continue the next chapter of my life. The chapter entitled 'Peter.'

I was surprised to see Jaq and Gus seated in one of the rows. The FBI must have been busy tracking down all my transgressions. Gus waved with a flirty look in his eyes. Jaq smiled. I felt bad for them being dragged to my trial. The thought that their pay might be retracted as stolen funds sent a chill through me. That would have to be rectified. Another debt.

My fears were confirmed when I saw Daphne and Beatrice in another row. I tried to give them an apologetic expression. It probably came off as stupid mixed with insanity. They didn't shy away and gave me friendly smiles.

Rebecca and Daniel were all smiles. They had an aura of confidence I didn't share. Ruth and Betty sat next to them. Ruth with a polite nod and Betty with a thumbs up.

Right behind what I suspected was the prosecutor was Agnus. She was smiling ear to ear. It was the most unfriendly thing I had ever seen. I had a brief unhealthy desire to claw it off her face. Thankfully, I buried the thought with the idea that this might be the last time I ever see her. She would get what she wanted and I would have Peter and a new life.

My lawyers and I sat at a large wooden table that mirrored the prosecutor's table on the other side of the room. I took a deep breath and straightened in my chair. Brendan conferred quietly with Mary, another of my counsel, and she passed down a set of papers. Brendan looked at them a moment then pushed them down the table to me.

"We took the liberty of handling your taxes this year," Brendan whispered, "if you could sign these, it will help in your defense." I looked down at the stack a papers in front of me. I usually only had a couple of sheets when I did my taxes. This was at least twenty pages of IRS forms. There were two sign-here stickers poking out the right side. Brendan smiled and I felt his confidence. I shrugged my shoulders and signed. Mary stood, gathered the document and headed out to make copies. At least my taxes were done. One headache not to worry about.

We stood when the judge arrived. Judge Manfred was black-gowned with a round face and gray beard that reminded me of a well trimmed Santa Claus. He didn't smile like Santa when the charges were read. In fact, it looked like humor was foreign to him. I sat back down and listened to a slew of perfunctory statements on both sides. The trial began in earnest with the first witness.

The first witness was Peter. I cringed when his name was called. I should have expected it since it was his team that first recognized the breach. He smiled to me as he walked from behind me. I hadn't seen him walk in. I lost track of him when my lawyers briefed me on what to expect.

Peter took the witness stand. He looked adorable. I scrunched my eyes, trying to separate the naked Peter from the one in the chair. I couldn't, so I smiled at him. I received a loving smile in return. The prosecutor was staring at me with an expression that didn't contain any love. I guess I was compromising his witness. Peter winked at me and then became serious, stating his name and promising to tell the truth.

"On the night of..." The prosecutor began, describing the events that were undisputed fact before he hit on a question. "did you identify a breach of the Shark firewall?"

"Yes," Peter said and didn't elaborate. I knew he wouldn't lie, but he had no intention of helping the man. I liked Peter in his suit. When he wasn't smiling at me, he was the picture of authority and strength. His power weakened greatly when he smiled. He became approachable. I looked over to the jury. I had a flash of jealousy when I saw the eyes of the four women jurors. They were fixed on Peter. My Peter. I had to look away. They were supposed to be looking at him. I straightened my back and returned my mind to the proceedings.

"How did you identify the incursion?" The prosecutor's question was followed by a long list of technical procedures that would have bored Bill Gates. I could see the jurors eyes glaze over as Peter used acronyms and long-winded techno jargon with abandon. Twice the prosecutor tried to interrupt, but Peter wasn't having it. By the time he was done, we all realized that he was highly skilled and we had no idea how he identified the incursion.

"How would you categorize this assault?" the prosecutor asked.

"I'm not sure I understand the question," Peter responded. He was so cute when he played dumb. Somehow he could change his eyes from intense to innocent in a heartbeat.

"Amateur, skilled, highly skilled?" the prosecutor clarified.

"It was the most sophisticated attack I have ever seen," Peter said. He was looking near the prosecutor's table when he said it, almost as if he was answering the question for someone else. I turned my head and glanced toward the table. There was an older man in a blue air force uniform with a star on the color. General Rickers, I assumed.

"In your opinion, would the development of this attack take the resources of a government to design and execute?" The question was followed by a series of objections that were overruled by the judge who followed up with instructions to the jury that Peter's response would be an opinion of an expert and not necessarily fact.

"No." Peter's answer took the prosecutor by surprise. He looked down at this notes, then back at his table where his assistant shrugged his shoulder.

"We have depositions that state you have claimed that only a foreign government had the capability to develop such an attack."

"Yes," Peter said calmly, "I know longer feel that is the case. I was rather...upset when I made those assumptions."

"So, you want this court to believe that an individual has developed, in your words, the most sophisticated attack you have ever seen?"

"As his honor has stated, it is only my opinion," Peter said. Again, he was speaking to Rickers. The prosecutor walked back to his desk and conferred with his assistant for a moment. Rickers leaned into the conversation. Then a third joined, Agent Stratford. I felt my bladder contract. The judge called the prosecutor back to the questioning after a moment.