The Unexpected

"Of course we're still on for lunch tomorrow." Ariel grins. She didn't know if Trey could kick Tom and Pete's butts or not, but she didn't want to find out. Swinging his hand a little, she looks out at the water as they walk through the sand. "How about... Tou Han's? It's a little Chinese place - a hole in the wall but great food. We can meet there at noon if you want."


Taking note that Beth seemed happier today and looked better, Justin was pleased. Someone else might not notice, but he did see a change, and it was for the better. He was proud of her for her steps forward and knew that if she just kept going, in no time, she'd be on her own two feet again with no reason to hold herself back anymore.

Smiling as she sits down, he quirks an eyebrow at her invitation. He'd thought perhaps they might grab coffee or something again but... to go over to her house again? Apparently she felt the need to mention just friendship but...

Justin feels that odd little twist in his gut again that he hates. Was it really proper for him to go over to her place now? To be alone with her? He knew good and well it would be innocent but how did that look, now that he was officially dating Rebecca? She'd understand, but why even risk that conflict? He'd been raised to take things like this seriously and to not get into positions where there could be doubt - it just wasn't worth any conflicts that could arise, innocent or not. Above reproach - that's what his father had always said. Surely there was a solution here somewhere though.

Glancing down, he tries to think fast before looking up to Beth again and smiling. "You know I have an awfully hard time resisting your cherry pie." That much was the truth - even he couldn't deny that he liked her cooking. He still needed to say no, though. Maybe they could meet somewhere public. The park, perhaps? Or the coffee shop? She could always share the dessert if she wanted to, since it made her feel good. There had to be clear lines drawn between them... he was helping her out, but that's where it had to stop. He was her friend, but there were just ways they shouldn't interact.

"I... have a date with my girlfriend tonight," he explains apologetically. It was the nicest way he could think of to inform her that he did have a girlfriend, and she was smart enough to figure out the rest. His one mistake though, was looking into those eyes... those eyes that knew just how to tug on his heartstrings. He'd finally formed some kind of relationship with Beth and now he was already pulling away. What if it backfired? What if she was hurt and would think he didn't care? He didn't want to do that to her... and those soft, asking, innocent eyes... "But... I'm free tomorrow night," he ends lamely, already kicking himself on the inside.


"Ohhh... crap." That's the only word that came to mind as Rick sinks down in the desk chair inside the infirmary. Staring at the paperwork from Misty, his eyes were wide and he shakes his head slowly. Glancing up at her, it takes him several moments to even speak. "I know you told me all this on the phone but... seeing it now, it's... it can't be right."

But he knew it was. He knew the data wasn't a lie. Studying it for a few more moments, he shakes his head. "I don't even know where to start with this. Who do I tell first? Reese? Jason? What about Cindy? Does she even know, or is she the best actress I've ever seen? And what about Derek? And then Trey? I just..."

Putting a hand to his head, he stops, feeling completely baffled. "Misty, what do we do?"


Seeing the man come with flowers, Susanne's eyebrows rise. This was unusual, to say the least. Ready to point him to whoever he was trying to find, she was dumbfounded when he said the bouquet was for her. "Are... are you sure?" She blinks and accepts the flowers, wondering where on earth they'd come from. "Um... thank you," she responds lamely.

Sinking back in her chair as she's left alone again, she takes a deep breath of the flowers' sweet scent before finding the little card. Were these from one of her friends? A sales gimmick? A mistake? Flipping open the card and seeing the words, her heart stops. Immediately, she can hear Frank Sinatra in her mind, and she melts just a little. Then reading Chuck's own words, she stops, blinks, rereads, then rereads again. Surely not. Surely this was some horrid joke.

Tears spring into her eyes and she smells of the flowers again. She'd never received flowers from anyone before - ever. And she'd made such a fool out of herself yesterday. To think that after all that, Chuck had done this for her... Even though she fought it, the warmth of feeling special seeps into her veins. She still couldn't believe that he cared that much but it felt so good... maybe pretending for a little while longer wasn't so bad.

Sniffing and wiping her eyes, she smiles and goes to find a vase.


A slender shadow creeps across the TJY floor in front of the visitor who walks slowly, glancing around at all of the cubicles. Knowing his way though, he turns at the right corners to make it to Katie's spot. Coming up alongside the cubicle wall, he leans on it with a warm smile and just watches Katie for a few moments. He stuck out just a little bit in his blue jeans, cowboy boots and denim jacket - but not enough to draw too much attention. His eyes were tired - signs of a weary body, but he still held a spark of life.

"You probably have a hot lunch date with your boyfriend, but what do you say about dumping him for an hour or two to spend time with your old man?" Jeff's grin spreads, knowing that there had been no warning for him showing up here today.


Looking left down the hallway, then right and seeing no one, Alec picks the lock on the apartment door and quietly lets himself in. He'd only been in here once before, and it looked pretty much the same now. Glancing around, he notes the sketches pinned to the wall in the corner of the living room, along with a stack of more sketches on the little kitchen table. He had to admit that everything seemed rather tidy - apparently Gage hadn't lost his habit of keeping everything straight and balanced. How he'd retained that in the Agency, Alec didn't know, but then, Gage always was a bit of an odd duck.

Wandering over to one of the stacks of paper, he sifts through it casually until finding sketch Gage had done of Sapphire. Even Alec was impressed. For someone without any background in art, the drawing was very, very good. It didn't take a genius to see that it was Sapphire, and Gage's self-taught skill drew in anyone, through the eyes of the sketch.

Alec sets it the page aside and continues to sift, finding a charcoal sketch of what looked like an alleyway with a little boy and a puppy. It was a crude representation, but one could easily identify the reason of the drawing - even though the boy and dog were dirty and raggedy, they were happy, content in their own world, even if they had nothing but each other. Alec wondered if somewhere Gage felt like that little boy. He sets that sketch aside too. Eventually, he lands on a sketch of a rosebud. Gage had used regular pencils and apparently one red colored pencil, depicting the most delicate details of the petal, while maintaining the crudity of the handmade picture. It was a picture worthy of a frame, Alec thought, but Gage probably didn't have any extra money to take care of his artwork.

Gathering the three drawings, Alec makes sure the stack is put back nice and neatly before leaving. Locking the door behind him, he rolls up the papers as he walks, securing them with a rubber band. Misty's words echo in his mind. "Deep down, I know you're not a bad guy..." Maybe today he could prove that statement right for once.

Getting outside to his motorcycle, he tucks in his work shirt and zips up his jacket before donning his helmet. First day on the job and he was ready for some new scenery. At the very least, driving around town should cure him of his boredom and he already knew what he'd be doing over his lunch break. He hadn't wanted to turn down Ryan but he'd sweet talked her into dinner instead...

...Alec stops at the bottom of the wide stairway and looks up to the glass front of the building. It was a bigger place than he'd thought with more people milling around than he'd imagined. It had taken him longer to get here than planned so he was running a little short on time, but with the company pickup and his next destination in hand, he'd get back on schedule in no time - that is, if this went well.

He'd changed out of his courier uniform and was now in nice jeans, his nicest collared shirt and his hair was combed neatly. His motorcycle boots were cleaner than normal and his shave that morning had left him looking more clean-cut than normal. With his sleeves rolled up casually to his elbows, he takes a deep breath and ascends the stairs, the little roll of papers in his hand.

Getting inside, he finds the reception desk and flashes the secretary a smile. "Don't tell me they put the woman in charge right out here to greet people."

The young woman blushes and grins, shaking her head. "I'm afraid not. She keeps busy in her own office away from the bustle."

"Ah, I see." Alec leans on the counter, knowing just the right kind of smile to use. "I suppose I'm a bit of bustle, but I sure could use a meeting with her."

The secretary quirks an eyebrow. "Do you have an appointment?"

Alec chuckles. "Would I be flirting with you if I did?"

"I..." The woman blinks, not even sure how to respond to that one.

"Mm-mm." Alec bites his lower lip. "You know I would be. You're too attractive for any guy not to notice." He tosses her a wink. "I bet you're just as nice as you are pretty, too."

"Um..." The secretary clears her throat and flips through a notebook. "Professor Norton has a class in twenty minutes, but she's free until then. "Should I call her office for you?"

"Sure, but first..."
Not ten minutes later, Alec was knocking on an office door on the second floor. A female voice answers. "Come in."

He obeys slowly, politely, catching sight of the middle-aged, slender woman behind her desk. The office was nice - nicer than most offices Alec had been in. There were paintings on the walls and carpet on the floor that muffled his steps as he approached the desk. Leaning over it, he extends his hand. "Professor... my name is Alec Banks. Pleasure to meet you."

She smiles and returns the gesture but seems less than enthusiastic. "How can I help you, Mr. Banks?"

Alec takes a seat in an extra chair, maintaining his smooth charm. "I have a proposition for you."

"Oh?"

"Yes, I believe you have an opening for a janitor here at the school."

Norton settles back in her chair, puzzled but curious. "I don't know where you heard that. I'm sorry, but if you're looking for a job, then-"

"Actually, it's not for me." Alec leans forward. "I have a friend, you see, who would be thrilled to work in a place like this."

"Look, Mr. Banks, I'm sorry, but we're not hiring. And even if we were, don't you think we'd rather have you friend come for an interview instead of sending you?"

"He didn't send me - I came on his behalf on my own."

"We're not hiring at this time, I'm sorry."

"You're telling me that you couldn't use an extra janitor? After the last one quit two weeks ago?"

Norton's eyes narrow. "You've done your homework."

"It doesn't take much."

"You realize that you've gone around all the structure we have in place as far as hiring goes."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Why?"

"Isn't always better to go straight to the top?"

Norton sighs. "Your efforts are commendable, I'll give you that. But we're considering funneling our funds in a direction different than that of a new janitor."

"I... think we could work something out."

"Oh?"

"How does minimum wage sound to you?"

Norton almost scoffs. "No one would take a full time janitor position for minimum wage."

"My friend would."

"Why?"

"Because no one else will give him a chance. We all make mistakes, Professor. Some just have bigger consequences than others."

"Are you telling me that your friend has a record?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, but-"

"Hear me out." Alec holds up a hand. "Minimum wage and two classes a week."

"Excuse me?"

"You're an artist yourself, aren't you?"

The professor is slightly exasperated with talking in circles, but she nods. "The paintings in this office are my own."

"You must be very passionate about your work... Not only do you express your own art but you teach others to do the same."

"What is your point, Mr. Banks?"

Alec doesn't once let his eyes drop from hers. "What if you were to help an artist... a real artist with raw ability that just needs a bit of polish?"

"That's what this school is for. I don't understand where you're going with this."

Alec takes the small roll of pages and takes off the rubber band, spreading them on her desk. "Take a look at these."

Unable to help but be interested, she does and runs her fingers over the sketches. "I'm impressed. These are very good. But I'm afraid I still don't understand."

"My friend did these," Alec explains. "He has no schooling whatsoever. Granted, he's been in some trouble, but he's trying to turn his life around and no one will give him a chance. He can't even get a decent job. But you give him a job for whatever you can afford, throw in a few classes and you will have introduced the world to an artist who just needs to be seen. And when he flourishes at your hand, then is seen, your school will have claim to credit."

Norton studies Alec's eyes as the corners of her mouth start to twitch. A chuckle starts out quietly until she laughs outright, her eyes dancing. "How long did it take you to come up with this scheme?"

Alec grins and leans his elbows on her desk. "About half an hour."

"So you're asking me to give your friend a job and free classes so that when he becomes famous, our art school will gain popularity, is that it?"

Alec shrugs. "It's worth a shot, isn't it?"

"Mr. Banks, I have you know that I have never, in all my years here, heard such a preposterous suggestion." Her eyes twinkle. "But there's something I like about you - maybe it's because you actually had the nerve to walk in here with this kind of offer." She sighs and shakes her head. "You realize that the phrase "starving artist" is generally true, don't you?"

Alec nods, but holds his grin. "So if my friend doesn't become famous, then what are you out? A little bit of class time? Less money that you'd pay to another janitor eventually anyway? It's a win-win situation. Even you have to admit that."

Norton shakes her head again. "You really have guts, you know that?" Picking up a notepad and pen, she jots down a date and time. "I never give job interviews - never. However... if this friend of yours is serious about your scheme, have him come in and I'll talk to him personally. If I think he will adequately fill the janitorial position, I will offer him minimum wage and one art class a week. Is that fair?"

Alec's grin becomes a full smile. "Sounds fair to me."


Mick cocks his head, now even more curious as to what was going on. Dylan wanted to talk to him? That was new. He certainly wasn't going to say no. Though he was just a little leery, hearing it had something to do with school. Dylan hadn't played Rosetta, had he? She was too smart for that though.

Folding his arms and standing comfortably, he nods. "Alright... shoot."

Dylan swallows hard and looks to Rosetta for a moment. Then glancing at the chair and back to his father, he opts to remain standing. Maybe it was his flight instincts, but no matter, his dad was standing, so he would too. His fingers one one hand fiddle with the seam of his jeans pocket. "Um... I was just... just telling Rosetta why I'd rather do school here at... at the ranch."

Telling his dad just seemed a whole lot harder and Dylan's eyes fall to the floor. He'd been brave with Rosetta, but facing Mick was a whole other ball game. Mick was the alpha dog and Dylan was a pup begging for leniency.

"It has to do with what happened to me before," he finally starts to explain. "See, I had these friends and.."

Once more, the story comes out, retold the same as it had been told to Rosetta. Dylan knows that Rosetta knows all the details, so he doesn't leave any out, even the things that make his face turn red in front of his dad. His eyes remain glued to the floor though, his feet shifting uncomfortably. But while his sights are downcast, he misses the change in Mick's own eyes. He doesn't see the disbelief turn to belief, the judgment turn to compassion or the surprise turn to horror at the things being said. Mick never once looks away from his son, taking in every word and listening carefully, controlling his own emotions.

"So that's... that's it." Dylan shrugs and finally dares to glance at his dad, but only after looking at Rosetta again to make sure he'd done okay.

Mick swallows hard, his arms still folded. But his stance was no longer one of irritation nor his tone commanding. "I believe you, Dylan. We'll make arrangements to home school you for this year at least."

Dylan couldn't have been more relieved - or shocked, for that matter and he couldn't help it that his eyes widen. "Really?"

"Yeah."

Mick's voice is so quiet that it almost scares Dylan. "That.... that easy?" Dylan looks at Rosetta again to make sure he wasn't missing something.

"Yeah." Mick nods slowly. "I appreciate you telling me about all this, Dylan. Thank you." He thinks for a moment then proceeds with question. "You said you had no idea who was paying those guys, huh?"

"Not a clue." Dylan shakes his head. "Figured it was just somebody out for some kicks or something, but couldn't ever prove anything."

"Mm-hmm. Okay. Well, thank you. We'll work out the school details later and make sure we get it done right." He searches his son's eyes for a moment before glancing to his wife. Only she would be able to recognize agony in his gaze. "I gotta get back to the barn." His original purpose for coming was completely bypassed as he turns and leaves, his pace quicker than one would expect.

As the door falls shut, Dylan just stares at it. "I... think he believed me but... did I do something wrong?" He wasn't worried, just confused at his dad's odd reaction, but maybe he was the only one that thought it was odd. "Do you think he's really disappointed in me or... or something?"


It couldn't have been more opposite of that. Mick's determined walk takes him to the barn, but only after a two-minute stop to the house where he loses his breakfast. Still queezy, it's more than physical discomfort on his face as he saddles up Remington. Anybody who walked by would notice that he wasn't seeing anyone or anything around him, and even his horse stamps his hooves impatiently, sensing his master's tension.