A Granted Wish - Part 2 by Danielle

A Granted Wish II by Danielle

STORIES ON THIS SITE ARE INTENDED FOR ADULTS ONLY

Hoped everyone liked part 1. Sorry for the dire messages of NC-17 ratings. After I finished typing it, I realized that it really wasn't that bad. Unfortunately (or fortunately) this one is, so youngsters don't read this. I don't want to be responsible for your immoral behavior should you read this (sorry about the typos, email is giving me grief, too) and turn into stark raving mad sex maniacs. Because you know, that could happen. Bob Dole already gives me enough grief about smoking. Oh yeah, the usual disclaimers apply. Once again, Mr. Carter, this is for you.

A Granted Wish (Part II) by Danielle

Ella's Sweet Sound
New Orleans
8:22pm

Smoke drifted hazily, high about the patrons' heads. The room was dark, lighted only by little Tiffany lamps set upon each table. Couples in their thirties and forties sat around the dance floor, listening to a young blonde do a fair imitation of Sarah Vaughan. The club was the sort of place where couples went with the intention of concentrating solely on each other. Scully turned to the mirrored bar and watched as a well-preserved redheaded woman extracted a brown cigarette from her gold case. She turned and lifted an eyebrow to her companion. The handsome man smiled indulgently and lit her cigarette before snatching it from her fingers and taking a drag. Scully breathed in deeply, oddly savoring the smoke exhaled by the man. Her stomach gave a sickly jump as the woman leaned over and pressed her lips fiercely to his. When they parted, their lips clung together as if desperate to stay connected. Scully quickly shifted her eyes away and regarded herself in the mirror. From the corner of her eye she saw Mulder throwing her impatient glances. She focused on herself, noticing the drabness of her outfit compared to the expensive cocktail dresses of the female patrons. She shrugged, preferring her armor to the seductive possibilities of the patrons' dresses. She gave herself one last look over and walked toward Mulder and his two companions.

Mulder stood up and met Scully halfway. He launched into a description of what he had discussed with the girls before her arrival. Glad, but not surprised, that he made no mention of what transpired between them in her room, she gave him her complete attention, "Apparently they have no idea as to who would have wanted to kill their friends. Ms. Chen is the only, so far, who is speaking. She seems to be honest, but I have a feeling that they know more than they told the detectives. Of course, I wouldn't be shocked if they decided that they couldn't trust those idiots. The other girl, Ms. Reina, is uncooperative to say the least. She hasn't said a word since I arrived. I asked Ms. Chen if any of them had encountered any strange characters or seen anything unusual prior to the disappearance. She quickly said no, but I noticed the other girl. . .well, I don't know. Scully, she knows something. Whatever it is they are keeping from us, she'll be the one to talk."

"Mulder, what exactly do you think they could be hiding?" Scully frowned fiercely at her partner. She was already treading an emotional edge and here he was keeping things from her again, "Damnit, Mulder, I hate it when you are secretive. Tell me what you suspect."

"I'll tell you later. Now's not the time. Both girls have been drinking heavily since I arrived and I suspect before, too. I don't know how much longer they will be coherent enough to speak with us." Mulder curved his hand around her elbow, trying to lead her to the table. He pulled, but she refused to budge, "Scully, I promise you I will tell you everything later. Believe me, I intend to keep *every* single promise that I make to you tonight." On that last statement, he squeezed her arm and locked his eyes to hers.

Scully flushed and jerkily pulled her arm from his grasp. She strode to the table and introduced herself to the two young women. The attractive Asian girl politely said hell, but the other girl merely gave a desultory glance in her general direction before turning back to the entertainment. Mulder had understated the girl's anti-socialness.

Grace looked up, seemingly embarrassed and slightly annoyed by her friend's rude behavior. "You'll have to forgive Frankie. Whenever things get too tough for her to handle she sort of turns off. Emotionally, I mean. You know, Audrey and G's deaths hit her hard." She stopped and gave a disbelieving shake of the head, "What am I saying! Their deaths almost destroyed the both of us." She took a long drag from her cigarette and slowly exhaled, "So, how can we help? Or rather, how can I help? I don't think you're going to get much from her tonight."

"Ms. Chen, Agent Mulder has told me that you have no idea as to who would want to hurt your friends. However, I want you to think very carefully about your time in New Orleans. Have there been any people that you or your friends have meet that struck you as unusual? Particularly any Caucasian males in their early to mid thirties?"

Mulder shifted in his seat to grab the girl's attention, "I also want you to tell us if you or your friends have encountered any persons that are or might be involved in a ritualistic religion."

Scully shot a sharp look at Mulder, reminding him of her irritation. She quickly lowered her eyes, however, as a wave of guilt assailed her. Mulder wasn't the only one keeping secrets. She had made no mention of her knowledge about the dove bones and the beliefs connected to them. She comforted herself with the thought that the odds were slim that a story she heard fourteen years ago could have anything to do with what had happened five years ago and then again just recently. She blithely ignored the fact that in her line of work, coincidence is rare. The young priest who had told her those stories was most likely long gone from New Orleans. Yes, that was why she hadn't told Mulder about her previous knowledge or Alain Brastoine. Because they were completely unrelated to the case. Her stomach churned as her mind yelled, "Liar! Liar! You just didn't want to mention another of your romantic follies. Always falling for the men you shouldn't have. The men so devoted to their personal crusades that they have nothing left for you." Dana ignored her vicious conscience and snapped back to the conversation. She was surprised to see the other girl turn and stare at Mulder.

"Agent Mulder, do you include Catholicism within your category of ritualistic religion?"

Mulder nodded his head, "Yes, I do. Why? Have you meet anyone who is affiliated with the Catholic Church?"

The girl ignored the question and turned to her friend. It seemed to Scully as if she were seeking permission to speak further. Grace tightened her lips before taking a long swallow of her drink. Then she inclined her head and spoke to Francesca, "I'll start." She turned back to the agents, "Audrey is. . .was a very devout Catholic and the minute we arrived in New Orleans she began looking for a church she could attend regularly. After searching for about three weeks, she met with a priest with whom she really connected and after that she began attending Le Sacre Couer. Well, it was obvious that Audrey really liked this priest. She talked about him incessantly. So the rest of us decided, of course, we had to meet the paragon of virtue and attended a mass with her. By the end, we completely understood her enthusiasm for the man. He was so captivating that we were all pretty much proselytized. I mean the man was unbelievable," she shook her head as if still amazed by the priest's oratory powers."

"Well after mass was over, Audrey introduced us to him. We soon found out that he was just as good at persuading as he was at preaching. He secured promises from each of us that we would volunteer at the Seratown Community Center."

Mulder exchanged an evaluating look with Scully. "Where is the Seratown Community Center? Here is New Orleans?"

"It is about a three hours drive from the city. Seratown is a small town edging the swamplands. It's an area where voodoo is faithfully practiced. The town was named after some big plantation owner's but after the war somehow feel into hands of the freed slaves. It has been a black community ever since."

Mulder shot a glance at Scully, surprised at her knowledge. He turned to the girls, "Is this true? If so, what kind of project did a Catholic priest have in the town?"

Francesca smiled, "Catholicism is a charismatic religion and historically has been prone to attracting fringe elements. By that I mean people who hold very deep beliefs about God but who continue to cling to their tribalistic or occultist religious practices. If you think carefully about it, it is not unusual that Catholicism, which has transubstantiation and risings from the dead, appeals to the miracle believers."

Scully quickly spoke up before Mulder could continue his questioning. Ms. Chen had said some things that unsettled her. "Yes, you are correct, it is not surprising that Roman Catholicism appeals to people who practice occultic spiritualism. However, before we continue with this line of questioning there was something your friend said that I would have explained a little more thoroughly," she turned to the Asian girl, "You said that the church you attended was called the Le Sacre Couer. Correct me if I am wrong, but isn't that a private school? Exactly how did you attend mass there? Did you get special permission from the Head Mother?"

"It seems the school's rectory was opened to the public about five years ago. The church that normally served the parishoners in that area burned down so the Head Mother decided to open up the school. They never closed it because the people seemed to prefer it to the old church. Anyway, that's what Roland told us, but you can always call the school to verify the information."

Scully jumped as she seized upon the name, "Roland? Who is Roland?" She saw the curious looks Mulder was giving her but she couldn't control her reaction. Roland wasn't a common name. But the name was just a coincidence, nothing to do with Missy's angel. She gave an inward wince as she thought of her sister. The memories still hurt.

Both girls gave her abashed looks, but it was Grace Chen who answered, "I'm sorry. I guess I forgot to mention the priest's name. It's just that it is a name we are so familiar with that we assume everyone else is too. The priest Audrey was seeing, his name is Roland O'Shaunessy."

Mulder's senses picked up the heightened emotions emanating from the three women at the table. He desperately wanted to know what had Scully so rattled but that could wait till later. However, the girls obviously were still keeping something from them and he knew without a doubt that it was instrumental to the case. Whoever this Roland O'Shaunessy is, it was important that he and Scully meet him. Soon. With this in mind, he pierced the girls with a no-nonsense stare and asked, "Why don't you call him Father? Has he been defrocked? Did it have something to do with your friends?"

Francesca Reina narrowed her brown eyes at him, but she directed her words to her friend, "Grace, we have to tell them. They will find out eventually. We owe Audrey to tell it to them in a way that won't completely tarnish her name. So do you want to do it and do you want me to do it?" Grace arched a brow, indicating that Frankie speak.

Francesca began abruptly, "Audrey was having an affair with Father O'Shaunessy. I'm not sure how long she was sleeping with him but I think it was longer than a month. You see, Audrey tried to keep it a secret. She was afraid we would disapprove."

Frankie sipped her vodka tonic before continuing, "You see, we knew from the very start that she admired Roland. But it never occurred to us that it could be more that mere hero-worship. However, Gina suspected something more and confronted Audrey about it. They decided that it should be kept a secret but surprisingly, Roland told us. We were in Seratown, and one day during lunch, he calmly said that he and Audrey were in love and planned to continue seeing each other. He also said that leaving his order was not an option but that they would figure something out so that he wouldn't disgrace the church. Needless, to say we were stunned, but it weirdly didn't unduly bother us. It seemed sort of natural."

Grace took up where Francesca paused, "Roland had an aura about him that assured us everything would be all right. I just wish he were here now to give a little infusion of that confidence. But he vanished soon after G's and Audrey's disappearance and we haven't heard from him since."

Scully bit her lip. Were they saying they didn't suspect this priest, Roland, of being involved with their friends' murders? Realizing that the girls could not read her mind, she vocalized her thoughts. Ms. Chen rushed to defend the priest but Scully noticed the other girl kept circumspectly quiet. Mulder noticed too and called her upon it.

"Ms. Reina, I noticed you haven't anything about Father O'Shaunessy's innocence. Do you agree with Ms. Chen? Or do you believe him to be involved with your friends' murders? You must admit it seem odd that he left and hasn't contacted either of you to offer his condolences."

Mulder carefully watched as both girls donned masks of complete blankness. The Hispanic girl was able to disguise the look in her eyes by lowering her long lashes, but he noticed consternation in the brown eyes of the other girl. He darted a look at Scully to see if she were registering their reactions and was stunned by the expression on her face. She looked haunted. That is to the normal observer, she looked completely composed, but Mulder recognized the signs of distress. She had appeared the same way when her sister was in the hospital. Her eyes were unfocused and tight lines bracketed her mouth. Something was bothering her and it was connected to this priest. Knowing she would say nothing while the girls were present, and probably not when they were gone, he turned back to Francesca. Questioning her would give him time to figure out how to confront Scully, "Well, what do you say, Ms. Reina?"

She continued to ignore. She drained her drink and snagged a waitress to order another round for her and Grace. She lit a cigarette and took several long drags before speaking, "I wish I could tell you more, but neither Grace nor I know the whole story. Obviously, otherwise you and Agent Scully wouldn't be here, would you? You are here to discover who killed our friends and those people five years ago. Don't look so surprised, Agent Mulder. Just because those blockheads at the police department have their heads up their ass, doesn't mean everyone does. The minute we found out about the nature of their deaths, Grace and I did research on murders in this and the adjacent states with the same m.o. However, we didn't find out much. The files were pretty much closed to civilians."

Grace continued the explanation, "Finally, out of desperation we asked Miss Eloise if she could find anything. That is when she told us about the two of you. According to Miss Eloise, you two are the only ones capable of finding the murderer. That's why we agreed to meet with you tonight, to tell you what we know and to extend an invitation for you to speak with Miss Eloise. If you want to solve this case, you'll need her input because she is the only who knows the full significance of the dove ritual or where to find Roland."

Frankie broke in, "To answer your question, Agent Mulder, I don't think Roland killed our friends. I don't know why --- just call it woman's intuition."

Scully watched as excitement lit up Mulder's face and gave an inward shudder. He didn't doubt a word the girls uttered. This is what he loved, the mystery, the sense of the unknown that was always one step ahead. Usually, she would speak up now to point out some flaw within the girls' story such as the dubiousness of psychic visions.. Or if this Miss Eloise knew where the priest was, why hadn't she notified the police? But, Scully didn't want to ask any questions about *Roland*. She didn't want to be here in this hellishly hot city. She didn't want to have to face the ghosts from her past. She didn't want to want Mulder. She looked at him and even in the midst of her mental turmoil, she felt her stomach pitch. She weakly admitted to herself that she was afraid that that glow in his face would never be for her. She wanted some of his passion to focus on her and until he found out what happened to Samantha, till he found out the damned *truth* he was always seeking, the most she could hope for was to be second best. She cleared her throat and got back to the business at hand, "Who exactly is Miss Eloise?"

Grace answered, "Miss Eloise Anaje. She is, I guess what you would call the matriarch of Seratown. We met her when Roland drove us down to the community center. She took us in, fed us, and generally looked after us whenever we were in town. Like Frankie said, she sent us up her to speak with you," Grace wrinkled her nose as she sought for a diplomatic way to explain Miss Eloise, "I know it sounds strange but Miss Eloise has the ability to see things."

Frankie interrupted, "She is the person you need to talk to Agents Scully and Mulder. We brought instructions to her place and she expects to see the both of you this Saturday. She won't mind if you come early but she understands that you will probably have to meet with Mr. Braxton." She stopped to look around, finally glancing helplessly at her friend, "Do you have the directions, Grace? I can't find them."

Grace reached in her sleeve and pulled out a scrap of paper, "Here. If you follow these you shouldn't have any problems getting to the place. Agent Scully, you better drive since you seem familiar with the area. Inexperienced drivers ofter end up in the bogs."

Mulder parted his lips, ready to launch another volley of questions at the girls. Scully rushed to forestall the interrogation. She couldn't take anymore, "Mulder, not now. Look at them. They're exhausted. They need to go home and get some sleep," she turned to the girls, "You two are going to Seratown tomorrow, right?"

The two ladies nodded their heads.

"Well, that is a long drive. Please tell Miss Eloise to expect us on Saturday. If there is a change of plans, we'll call. Now, do you two need us get you a cab? You've had a lot to drink."

Grace smiled, "Agent Scully, we are recently graduated college students with a degree in drinking. Why do you think we became bartenders? Seriously, our place is within walking distance. And Beau, that hulking monster in the corner, walks us home every night."

Frankie laughed as she got up from the table, "Actually, the moose has a crush on Gracie. You guys, on the other hand, should stay for the next set. Millicent Dupres is terrific." She sombered, "Thanks, both of you, for listening to us. We realize what we told you sounds unbelievable, but it is the truth. You just have to search for it. But the truth is out there. Everything you need is right in front of you."

Grace rolled her eyes at her friend's cryptic statement and tugged on her arm, "Come on, Frankie, let's go. You can't handle you booze. Goodnight Agent Mulder. Agent Scully. We'll look forward to seeing you this Saturday." With that polite goodbye, she steered her friend toward the large Cajun bouncer. Before exiting, they stopped to speak to the bartender on duty who nodded and made shooing motions to the door. They left the place securely esconsed in the protective arms of their self-appointed protector.

Mulder ran a tired hand around his neck as her turned to face Scully once again. She sat across from him in an uncustomary dejected pose. Her shoulders slumped forward and her head drooped listlessly. He opened his mouth to ask her about her earlier reaction to the news about the priest. It bothered him that his normally stoic partner was so visibly disturbed and making no move to ask for his help. Why did she always have to be so self-sufficient? The only times she had come near to relying on him was when she awoke from her coma and when Melissa died. A chill settled upon him with the realization that those were times Dana had come precariously close to dying. To leaving him to search for the truth alone. Mulder's jaw flexed as he admitted to himself that he was no longer sure if he could do it alone. Three years ago, before she entered his life, yes, but now was a completely different story.

Just as his questions flowed to the tip of his tongue, there was a drum roll and a spotlight lit up the stage. The bandleader's velvety voice intruded upon Mulder's thoughts and he watched the introduction. There was a smattering of applause and the lights dimmed as a Millicent Dupres walked out onto the stage.

"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen for you warm welcome. This night is hot and slow so I thought I would do a set that reflects our city's steamy character. I hope you enjoy it and I encourage everyone to take a turn on the dancefloor. A night like this is good for only two types of exercise: dancing and making love. I don't mind if you do the latter but Harry, the owner, might get a little bent out of shape. So I suggest everyone stick with the dancing while they are here." With a husky laugh, she waved a hand to the orchestra to start up the music.

Mulder laughed along with her, appreciating her naughty sense of humor. He checked to see if Dana laughed too, but she stared fixedly at her hands. It wasn't until the first yearning strains to *Someone to Watch Over Me* wafted through the nightclub that she stopped inspecting her nails to watch the singer. A pensive look crossed her face even as her body swayed to the music. She absentmindedly unbuttoned her suit jacket and slid it off her shoulders. Seeing the tense set of her posture, Mulder made a decision and stood up. He had to comfort her in some way; he had to hold her. Why, he didn't ponder, he just had to have her in his arms.

"Lets dance." He tone brooked no argument. He was not asking.

Dana sighed and peered up at her partner. The night had been hard on her emotions and she knew he must be sensing her stress. She appreciated the fact that he didn't try to pry. But the stress of dancing with him and brushing her body against his would be just as painful and dangerous as answering any of his questions. Yet, the lyrics enticed her. Someone to watch over her, to take care of her and help her forget the memories, to help her escape the worries. Before her sensible side reared its ugly head, she got up and walked to the dancefloor. She didn't have to look behind her to know that he followed. She could smell him. It was weird. Mulder didn't wear any cologne but he exuded a scent that she could immediately recognize. Her nostrils flared as she breathed deeply.

Her feet slowed, then stopped as they came to the edge of the dancefloor. He stood behind her and his warm breath stirred the hair at her nape. She intuitively knew that he was putting off the moment when they would touch, prolonging the anticipation. She alternatively cursed him and desired him in her mind. She turned inward and shifted closer to his heat. His callused palm looked dry and inviting as it waited for her hand. She stared at it for a few moments before placing her hand in his. In unison, they stepped forward.

He slid his free arm around her waist, resting his hand on the small of her back. Her arm stretched and went around his neck. They moved a few centimeters. More swaying than actual dancing. They moved some more and her belly brushed the coldness of his belt buckle. She shivered and he pulled her closer. His hand slid from the small of her back to the swell of her bottom. In response, she ran her fingers through the hair at his nape. The strands were soft and curled around her fingers. Imprisoning them as his arms imprisoned her body. Dana burrowed her face in his chest. Her mouth opened and the tip of her tongue grazed the edge of her teeth. She lifted her eyes and saw his pulse beating strongly, if somewhat rapidly, in the hollow of his neck. She wanted to taste the salt of his skin.

Mulder felt the warm air of her breaths and the pebbles of her nipples against his chest. He exulted, loving the feel of her small body fitted so closely to his. The music had long faded from his consciousness. He could only feel, smell, and hear Dana. That was all he wanted to feel or smell. All he needed. Fox didn't know why they were acting this way and didn't care to examine the reasons. He simply wanted Dana and finally she was within his grasp. He felt his erection thicken and lengthen but felt no embarrassment. He wanted her to know how much he desired her. He smiled as he felt the wet tip of tongue touch his neck. He bent his head and whispered into her hair, "That's right, taste me. Imagine me tasting you. Everywhere. Close your eyes and imagine."

*He knelt between her legs and ran his hands up to the inside of her thighs, pushing up her skirt. She whispered his name, causing him to look up into her face. He smiled softly, parting his lips to reveal strong white teeth. He shushed her and motioned for her to lean back. "I'm going to love you now. Enjoy it." She rested her head against the sofa and lay her hands against his neck, cupping it and pulling him toward her. He slid the blunt tips of fingers over her upper thighs, brushing the juncture at the top. She wasn't wearing any underwear, but it seemed appropriate. He glanced up at her through the corner of his eye to make sure she was recording his progress. She grinned and told him to hurry up. As punishment, he nipped the inside of her left thigh with his teeth and then repeated the process on her right one. When he had a satisfactory pink circle on both thighs, he leaned back to appraise his handiwork. A cocky grin lit up his face, he was proud of his accomplishment. Then with no further ado he buried his head between her legs, resting his nose and mouth against the auburn curls of her sex. Her back arched and a gush of air escaped her lungs. His tongue began to do wicked, delightful things to her body, following the swirls, sucking at the peaks and generally driving her insane. Her hand stroked the side of her neck before drifting down to massage a necked breast. Her fingers teased the nipple to the same rhythm of his tongue teasing her clit. His head dipped lower and his tongue deeper, thrusting, imitating the sex act. She gasped sharply and gripped her breast tighter. He paused to watch her sensual actions. He liked seeing her pleasure herself. He liked knowing that he was the reason for her excitement. Deciding not to prolong the suspense, he bent his head again and began to suck in earnest. Her juices flooded his mouth and her hips began a rhythmic thrusting. He lifted his head and whispered, "Come for me." Her blue eyes blazed down into his as she panted, "Make me." He slid his hands around her hips and pulled her forward. He devoured her, delighting her moans and gasps. Then he felt her quicken as his tongue flickered mercilessly against her clit. Suddenly she stiffened and let out a gasping scream before slumping back against the couch. Her hand left her breast to caress his hair. "Thank you," she whispered lovingly.*

Their pelvises pushed into each other, heightening the friction. Dana moaned into his neck, shivering from her reverie. She felt his body quaking against hers and looked up questioningly.

"That was some fantasy you had. I could feel your reactions."

She blushed but did not pull away. Rather she pressed her belly closer to his erection, rubbing against it. She could feel the moistness between her legs and wished her ache could be eased. Suddenly, he pulled his lower body from hers. Surpriseed, she pouted and tried to move closer. This was her dance and he had to act appropriately.

An exaggerated leer playfully twisted his lips, "Sweetheart, stop. If you keep rubbing against me, I am going to embarrass myself and come in my pants." He adopted a more serious tone, "Tonight is not the night for us to make love. Things are still too unsettled. But I do want you in my arms. That means dancing the night away with you. Isn't it enough that you've made me as hard as a steel pipe?"

She laughed huskily, reaching on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, "And as big, too. However, you are right. I'll play the game your way, tonight." She snuggled back in his arms, careful not to brush against the testimony of his excitement. She would not think about Father O'Shaunessy or the murders. Tonight it was enough to be enclosed in Mulder's strong arms. She smiled as his mouth pressed a tender kiss on the top of her head.

Sera's Plantation
Seratown, LA
1 am

The rocking chair made soft sounds as it rhythmically hit the wooden floor. The old woman looked out into the pitch black night. She could not see very far into the night because the large cypress trees and Spanish moss blocked her view, but it was not the landscape that interested her. She wanted to see the FBI agents. She closed her eyes and opened her senses to locate them. She saw the smoky interior of a nightclub and scanned the area. Not immediately seeing them, she concentrated on the emotions filling the club. The strong scent of arousal led her to the two dancing figures. She couldn't see their faces but she could smell their attraction for each other. They were too busy concentrating on each other to think of the case. She snickered to herself and then quickly shut off her vision. You never knew who the devilman had spying on them.

"Eloise, you know you shouldn't be spying on those young lovers. Let them be. He won't bother them tonight, it is not possible. Anyway, he needs them."

The large lady jumped and scolded, "Yah rascal, yah shoudn't sneak up on me like that. Ah hate it that Ah can't sense yah. It is downright unfair afta all the hep Ah given yah."

"I don't know why you affect that ridiculous Scarlett O'Hara drawl, Eloise. Playing the coquette with me? Because you know you are far too much woman for me to handle." The handsome man watched in amusement as a blush crept under the dusky brown, wrinkled skin; although she tried to downplay her embarrassment by sticking a impertinent tongue out at him. He quickly sombered, however, as he recalled the reason behind his visit, "You told Frankie and Grace to invite Dana and Fox here, didn't you?"

Green eyes stared defiantly up at him and the accent faded away into nothingness, "Yes. Dana is completely distraught. She doesn't know where to turn. She needs my help. More importantly, she need to talk to you. And you can't keep those two in the dark forever. They are too smart not to figure it out eventually."

The man frowned darkly at the unrepentant woman, "Are you questioning my decision? I don't want to speak to Dana just yet. She hasn't forgotten her faith but a lot has happened in her life to make her question it. The murder undermined so much. I thought Fox would put her back on track but he has just confused her more. She has always been a difficult case. I need more time to decide how to handle her. Bringing here is too dangerous, Eloise. What if she finds me. How will I explain that?"

A low pitched voice interrupted the conversation, "Isn't that the point, darling? Didn't you bring her here to find you?" The lovely apparition smiled and walked up to the man. Sliding a familiar hand around his waist, she directed her smile to Eloise Anaje, "How are you doing, Mel...sorry, Miss Eloise? Is he giving you a rough time?"

"I don't know how you put up with him. I don't remember him being this anal. He acts as if I did something horrible in asking those two to visit me. It's not like they are going to recognize me. Besides, Dana needs help -- her guardian's help. But since he is so damn slow in figuring out what to do, I decided to take control of the reins. Damn, I'm mixing my metaphors. Where was I? Oh yeah, this place is perfect for Fox and Dana to decide if they are going to be lovers or not. By the way, where is your friend. I haven't seen her lately?"

"She is New Orleans looking after Frankie and Grace. She doesn't trust them to behave themselves. I don't blame her, they can find trouble like no one else. She's just ensuring that they do the job right," the dark haired woman turned to her lover, "Darling, Miss Eloise is right. The agents need to come here. It is soon but time is running out. He gets closer to tearing them apart everyday. They need our help and desperately. It's better that they are here where we can keep an eye on them."

The man's colorless eyes stared worriedly into the pair of green ones. Two of the women he respected the most were urging him to go against his reason. But, then it wouldn't be the first time. Conceding to their instincts, he nodded his blond head, "All right. We'll let them come sooner rather than later. I don't want anything to happen to them. Contact G, sweetheart, and tell her to make sure that Frankie and Grace scoot their behinds down to Seratown pronto. I believe Mr. Braxton will take care of Dana and Fox." He caressed the hair the woman holding him, "Hopefully, everything will work out as planned. Although I'm afraid we have a hell of a battle ahead of us."

Continue to A Granted Wish III