Brenda watched as the fluorescent green numbers on the bedside clock finally made it to 6:00 a.m. Once again she'd awakened promptly at 5:23 a.m. and had remained awake. This seemed to be her regular routine as of late -- waking up at precisely 5:23 a.m. everyday. She didn't even need an alarm to wake her these days, because some inborn clock was handling that on its own.

Most mornings she had awakened and was immediately overwhelmed with morning sickness, as well as the intense need to empty her bladder -- but not this morning. This morning her stomach seemed to have called some sort of a truce with her body. Although she still had to rush to empty her bladder as soon as she had awakened, she at least didn't have to see the undigested remains of last night's dinner coming back to haunt her this morning.

She was still very wide awake, but after going to the bathroom and washing her face and brushing her teeth, she decided she wasn't quite ready to face the day. So she climbed back into bed for a little while longer to sort out the events of the previous day, especially the ones surrounding Tom.

Tom… He was such a sweet man, and her heart broke when she thought about everything that he'd gone through because of her. She had fallen into his life and completely turned his world upside down for him, but he didn't blame her for any of this. On the contrary, he loved her...

He loved her… Brenda closed her eyes and sighed. The thought that Tom loved her had never entered her mind before yesterday, when he had inadvertently blurted that out for everyone to hear. How could she not have known how he felt about her? Jax did. Jax said even Jerry knew about Tom's feelings for her, so how had she missed the signs? She thought back to those weeks in the cabin with Tom and tried to remember how he'd treated her and what clues she had missed that he was falling in love with her. He had been kind to her from the very beginning, but that was just who Tom was -- he was a kind and a gentle man. He had never made any unwarranted moves toward her, and, other than that one night when he had brought home the roses and the dress…

That one night… How could she have been so blind not to see that he had set the perfect scene for seduction that night? He had bought flowers, and candles, and wine, and even that little, black dress for her, but she had never thought of that night as a romantic overture on his part -- until now. She smiled as she remembered how sweet and attentive he had been that night and also how flustered he'd been. He had been trying to make the evening as romantic as possible, and she had been totally oblivious to it all. Then she had fainted, and they had spent the rest of the night at that clinic, where they learned she was pregnant. She thought about how his attitude toward her had changed after they had found out about the baby. He seemed more distant -- more reserved than he had been just hours before. She had assumed he was worried about her health and about the baby, but now she wondered if he had been so quiet because he had realized that there was no romantic future for them after that.

Her heart broke for him. She knew what it was like to love someone and to not have that love returned. In high school, Jagger Cates had been her first love and she had wanted him with everything that she had, but he had loved Karen Wexler, eventually marrying her and moving away from Port Charles. She got over it, but it still hurt for a long time, and she did a lot of stupid things trying to forget him -- one of which was falling for Sonny Corinthos. She shuddered as she thought of how her vulnerability after losing Jagger had allowed her to be so easily seduced by Sonny and his dangerous lifestyle.

She shook her head; she wouldn't allow anyone to so easily take advantage of Tom, as Sonny had taken advantage of her. She might not love Tom in the romantic sense of the word, but she loved him enough to help him avoid falling into a relationship with someone who could destroy him, as Sonny had nearly destroyed her. Jax had helped to save her from herself after Sonny, and she wanted to help to save Tom from himself now. But realistically, Tom's shattered heart would have to take a back seat to the far more pressing issues at hand: proving him innocent of these outrageous charges that had been leveled against him. She hoped that Jax and Jerry had made some real headway in that direction last night, after she'd gone to bed.

Brenda glanced over at Jax, who was resting with his back toward her, snoring softly, his back rising and falling steadily as he slept peacefully. She was impatient to hear all the details of Jax and Jerry's strategies in regard to Tom's case, but she didn't have the heart to awaken Jax to ask him. It had been nearly 1:15 a.m. by the time she had finished "describing" her dream to Jax, and he was completely depleted by then. She smiled at the memory of the immediate aftermath of her "show-and-tell" with Jax. Exhausted, he had kissed her, murmuring something about making a fortune if he could only bottle her hormones as an aphrodisiac, and then he had fallen into a deep sleep, with a contented smile curling his lips.

Unable to resist touching him now, she moved closer to him, so that she was spooning his body, and she kissed him gently between his shoulder blades. Brenda thought about trailing kisses up to the nape of his neck, knowing that would be just the right impetus to rouse Jax from his slumber, but she decided against it. As much as she loved the thought of Jax stimulated first thing in the morning, she knew that he needed his sleep more than she needed her curiosity satisfied -- or anything else satisfied, for that matter. She sighed as she rolled back away from his tempting form. Just three more days until my doctor's appointment, she told herself. "Three more days and all these restrictions on my love life will be a mere memory, and I can actually enjoy the fact that my libido seems to be working overtime," she groaned softly. "Sleep well now, sweetheart," she giggled quietly, as she carefully crawled out of bed, making certain not to disturb Jax, and headed toward the bathroom to shower, "because in just a few more days, I'm not planning to give you a moment's rest!"

Sonny Corinthos stood on the balcony of his private suite, staring at the sun as it was just beginning to peak above the endless horizon of the sea that surrounded his little island paradise. It was the beginning of another day -- and the first new day since he had learned that his Brenda was still alive.

"His" Brenda -- that's what she was, and that was what she'd always be. He didn't care that she had told him last summer that they were in the past and she was now in love with Jax. She could tell him that until the end of time, but he'd never believe it. She was his in every sense of the word. He owned her, body and soul, and now that he knew that she was still alive, he had the chance to prove that to her -- as soon as he could get back to Port Charles, that was.

He turned and glanced back at the heavy, mahogany door that separated his private quarters from the rest of the top floor of his casino/resort. He bristled knowing that just on the other side of that door stood one of Marco Leone's men, guarding him and making sure that he didn't try to leave the island before Leone deemed it time. Dammit! He was a virtual prisoner on his own island, and the thought of that was making him crazy. The thought of anyone holding him against his will always caused him to react badly. Whether it was his stepfather locking him in a closet as a kid back in Bensonhurst or Leone preventing him from roaming freely here on this tropical paradise, it didn't matter to him. Someone was restraining him against his will, and that was tantamount to torture for him. But he knew that if he wanted to live to see Brenda again, then he'd have to accept Leone's timetable, which, at the moment meant staying here on the island until all of Leone's plans were set.

Marco Leone's reputation for ruthlessness was legendary. Even when Sonny was just a kid back in the old neighborhood in Brooklyn -- long before he had done his first job as a teen for Joe Scully -- Sonny had heard about Marco Leone. And Leone's reputation had grown immensely in the interim -- and deservedly so. Marco Leone had managed to rise to the top of the mob -- and stay there -- through sound "business" moves and good instincts, not to mention sheer cunning and savage determination. When Marco Leone was just a few years younger than Sonny was now, he had taken down his boss, Johnny Rinaldi, in a bloody coup that had left no doubts in anyone's mind that this new mob boss was not someone to be trifled with, despite his relatively young age. And through the intervening years, he had amassed both wealth and power beyond anything that Sonny could fathom. Sonny had heard that Leone had an uncanny ability to read the strengths and weaknesses of both his friends and his enemies, and that had helped him to build his power base and elude authorities through the decades -- until now.

Leone had not fully explained his sudden appearance here on Sonny's little, hidden island, other than to say that he needed Sonny for a particular job that involved bringing down the entire Jacks clan. So Sonny had surmised that Leone had fled the country just a couple of steps ahead of the law, and that his downfall most likely had something to do with the Jackses. Sonny had known for months that John and Jerry Jacks were involved up to their eyeballs with some branch of the organization, but now he'd bet his last dollar that they had been fronting for Leone all this time. And now they had probably rolled over on Leone with the feds in order to protect themselves -- or more likely, their precious golden boy, Jax.

"Jax!" Sonny said the name aloud, practically spitting it out at the bitterness the name left in his mouth -- and in his soul. Had it not been for Jax, he and Brenda would still be together. They would have had their ups and downs, but she would have come back to him -- she always had in the past, no matter what had happened between them and no matter how he had treated her. But Jax had interfered in their lives and had turned their world upside down. He had filled Brenda's head with impossible dreams of love and happiness that lasted forever. But Sonny knew that those promises Jax had made to Brenda were empty and that soon Brenda would come to realize that, too.

Jax was like every other rich playboy Sonny had ever known or read about. Jax was incapable of truly loving anyone or anything other than himself and his next new toy. And that was all Brenda really was to Jax -- a new toy. Granted, she was one that Jax had fought long and hard to get, but in the end, she was one he would tire of and throw to the wayside, just as surely as he did the corporations he worked feverishly to acquire and then dismantled and sold off in bits and pieces once he was bored with them. But Jax wasn't going to be around long enough to tire of Brenda this time, he thought, smiling malevolently.

Sonny had been awake most of the night contemplating the many ways he would like to destroy Jasper Jacks, but, unfortunately, Leone's plans for the Jacks family would have to take precedence over his for Jax. He hated the fact that Leone was the one in charge here, but, at the same time, he liked that he had Leone's backing in his quest to bring down Jax and his self-righteous and self-serving family. Leone was rich and powerful and ruthless, and Sonny planned to use all of that to his advantage.

He planned to be the perfect student for Leone -- doing exactly as Leone instructed, no matter what -- at least until he had destroyed Jax and regained Brenda. And then the gloves were off, and he was going after Leone as well. Sonny laughed as he envisioned the outcome of this partnership: the Jacks family would be ground into dust; Jax would be dead; Brenda would be his once again; and Leone's money and his power would be Sonny's as well; and Leone would be where he belonged -- sleeping with the fishes. He'd show Leone who the shark was in this relationship! He'd let Leone play him for a fool for now, but in the end, he planned to be the one who was having the last laugh.

The coffeemaker had barely stopped dripping when Jerry eagerly reached for the decanter to pour himself a cup of the strong brew. He sighed loudly as the liquid caffeine made its way down his throat, ignoring the pain that the hot fluid inflicted along the way. This was exactly what he needed! He had gotten very little sleep last night, and yet, here it was, barely 6:00 a.m., and he was awake -- not wide awake, but awake, nonetheless. He hated seeing the sunrise -- unless it was on his way to bed. Jax was the early riser in the family, not him. He liked sleeping until well past noon, and then working -- or preferably, playing -- all night long. But yesterday and last night had been anything but fun and games.

Jerry had left the cottage a little before midnight, after spending hours with Jax going over plans to help Tom Langan, and had spent most of the rest of the night tossing and turning, pondering the entire situation. He took another swig of the hot coffee and grimaced as he thought about all the time and effort that Jax was putting into clearing that man -- a man whom Jerry was certain was still as guilty-as-sin of being in cahoots with Marco Leone. He might not have actively helped in Brenda's kidnapping, but Jerry was certain that Tom was somehow responsible for Leone finding her, nevertheless.

And even if he wasn't responsible for that, he was certainly guilty of other things. The man had confessed his love for Brenda, for heaven's sake! And in front of a packed room, no less! And yet Jax still was feeling compassion for the man, and was using all the resources at his disposal to help Tom. If HE had been Jax and Tom had admitted having those feelings for HIS fiancée, he would have beaten him senseless and then let him rot in jail, whether he was guilty of any of the rest of it or not -- but not Jax. Sometimes he felt his brother was crazy as a loon, and this was definitely one of those times. Which is why Jerry had agreed to "help" with Tom's case. He wanted to protect both Jax and Brenda and make sure that any evidence that was turned up -- either proving or disproving Tom's innocence -- was the genuine article and not something that some shyster lawyer had cooked up.

Shyster lawyer -- Jerry had to chuckle at that because the famous Daniel Kennedy, Esquire, of the prestigious Manhattan law firm of Kennedy, Marshall, and McBride, did not meet the usual definition of shyster. Jerry had never met Kennedy personally, but he knew him well by reputation, and he knew that he was neither dishonest nor disreputable -- although his courtroom cunning was legendary, especially after his most recent stunning victory in that infamous, Manhattan socialite murder case. No, Daniel Kennedy was no shyster; he was more of a master magician -- a judicial illusionist, so to speak. He took the facts as they were, and, with his deft, legal sleight-of-hand, along with his incredible good looks and his spell-binding eloquence, managed time and again to pull off the impossible -- casting doubt among jurors on the seemingly irrefutable facts of any given case.

But Jerry planned to watch Daniel Kennedy and his team of investigators very carefully. Kennedy might be able to fool jury after jury about the true guilt or innocence of his various clients, but Jerry was not about to allow him to fool Jax and Brenda as well. He planned to watch the master illusionist every step of the way and examine all the evidence that Kennedy's team dug up, as well as what the feds already had on Tom, and he was going to expose any tricks that Kennedy tried to pull on his brother in the course of his handling of Tom's case.

Daniel Kennedy may be legally obligated to protect Tom Langan's rights, and, in the course of doing so, use whatever maneuvers that were allowable by law, but he, Jerry Jacks, was obligated by love for his brother and family loyalty to protect Jax and Brenda's future happiness, and he was going to use whatever means necessary to do just that. He had failed Jax miserably in the past in both the protection and the loyalty departments, and he wasn't about to make that mistake again. If Jax wouldn't protect himself and Brenda from Tom Langan, then Jerry would do it for him. And if that meant making himself an indispensable part of the investigative team working on Tom's behalf and devoting every waking moment to uncovering the facts of this case, then that's what Jerry planned to do.

He finished off his coffee, and, noting that the time was already 6:25 a.m., he grabbed the phone to call the cottage to let Jax know he'd be over soon. Jerry figured that Tom Langan would most likely be arraigned in federal court in New York City some time this morning, and he was sure that Brenda would persuade Jax to be there to support Tom in the proceedings. And since Jerry planned to be there to support Jax through all of this, he had to make it to the cottage before Jax headed out to the city. Jax was a notoriously early riser and had probably already finished his early morning run and was heading for the shower by now, readying for an early morning flight to the city. Jerry had to make sure that Jax didn't leave without him.

Jerry quickly punched in the number and then heard the answering machine pick up after just one ring. "Jax, this is Jerry. Pick up the phone, will you? I know you're up!" Only the whir of the tape running greeted Jerry's momentary silence. "I've been doing some thinking overnight, and I've decided that I want to be with you and Brenda every step of the way through this thing with Tom -- if you still want me to help, that is." He paused, wondering if Jax would buy that line he'd just given him, but it was too late to worry about that now, so he continued, "Anyway, I wanted to make sure that you didn't go anywhere before I got there this morning. I should be there in about thirty minutes, and we can talk then. Wait for me."

He hung the phone back up and then headed to the shower. The coffee was a step in the right direction in getting him jumpstarted this morning, but a brisk shower was in order now to really awaken both his brain and his body. It was going to be another long day because of Tom Langan, and Jerry would need his wits about him completely if he was going to be able to convince everyone concerned -- especially Jax and Brenda -- that he was sincere in his efforts on this case. He was sincere, all right -- he was sincerely working to save Jax and Brenda from themselves and their naiveté about Tom, but they didn't need to know that -- at least not yet. For now, he would act concerned for Tom, while gathering all the facts he could about Tom's true involvement with Leone, and then he'd use it to get Tom Langan out of his family's life once and for all!

The antique clock on the mantle in the living room chimed seven times just as Daniel Kennedy quietly closed the door behind him, slipping off his wet Nikes on the marble floor of the foyer of his plush, Fifth Avenue townhouse. He grabbed the towel that his long-time housekeeper, Donita Harpster, had left for him on the small table there, and tried to dry himself enough to sneak into his bedroom without dripping across the floor. He chuckled at Donita's motherly protectiveness of him. She had worked for him for nearly fifteen years now, and, despite the fact that she was less than ten years older than he was, she seemed to think of him as her surrogate son. She had acted like that since the day his late wife, Paige, had hired her, and he doubted the woman would ever change.

Donita had fussed at him as he was heading out the door an hour before, for his daily, early morning run through Central Park, warning him that it was about to start raining and that he should at least wear a rain poncho or something. But Daniel had told her that he could easily outrun a few raindrops and had forgone the poncho, opting to instead wear only his ratty, old, Harvard sweatshirt -- the one Paige had given him ages ago. Now he was wet from head to foot and trying desperately to towel off before Donita realized he was back.

"Well, I see you musta been a might slow this mornin'," he heard Donita's resonant voice call from behind him. "And now you're drippin' on my nice, clean floor, to boot!"

Daniel turned sheepishly to see the matronly, black woman standing with her arms folded in front of her and tapping her foot in mock impatience. "I see I'm busted," he grinned good-naturedly. "But I know how good it makes you feel to say 'I told you so,' so go ahead and do it, Don," he laughed as he breezed by her on his way to the kitchen for the cup of fresh-brewed coffee he knew Donita had poured and waiting there for him.

"Well, I DID tell you so, and one of these days you really should listen to me, Daniel! Otherwise you're gonna catch your death 'o cold one day!" she scolded as she followed him into the kitchen, stopping just across the countered peninsula that jutted between the kitchen and the dining area.

"And then, Don, you can look at me on my death bed and tell me one last time, 'I told you so!'" Daniel laughed as he leaned across the counter, chucking Donita lightly beneath the chin.

"And don't think I won't!" the housekeeper retorted, trying hard to suppress the smile that Daniel always brought out in her. Despite the fact that he kept odd hours and could be cantankerous at times, she loved him like family, and she enjoyed the easy bantering relationship she had with him. In fact, she thought of him more as family than she did as her employer, and she knew the feeling was mutual on Daniel's part.

"Well, that's what I love about you, Don. I can always count on you to know what's best for me and to always tell me about it, too!" Daniel grinned, as he took a quick swallow of the coffee. "Any calls while I was out?"

"Not a one," Donita answered, shaking her head as she walked into the kitchen. "You know you're up awful early for a man who was out gallivantin' 'til all hours of the night," Donita said as she pulled out a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice from the refrigerator and poured Daniel a tall glass. "You don't happen to have a new lady friend that you were hopin' would call, do you?" she asked, grinning broadly as she handed the juice to Daniel.

"Now, Don… are you worried you might have some competition for my heart?" Daniel chided her as he gratefully took the proffered glass of juice. "You know that you're the only woman in my life, now and always," he laughed and then chugged the entire glass of juice, knowing it would make the woman crazy.

"Daniel! Why do you insist on drinkin' your juice like that! I swear you're gonna choke on it one day, and I'm just gonna let you lay there and die, 'cause you don't pay me enough to do that CPR stuff on you!" Donita huffed, but her eyes were twinkling merrily at him. "And as far as me bein' jealous of some other woman… Well, I'd be just real pleased if I thought you were actually out late last night on a date with a woman and not workin' on some new case. It's not good for you to work so much, you know! And those cases you get -- defendin' murderers and such!"

"Ah, ah, ah!" Daniel wagged his index finger at Donita as he freshened his coffee. "They are merely 'accused' murderers and such, Don!" he added, laughing as Donita shook her head at his correction.

"Whatever!" Donita harrumphed, as she opened the refrigerator and pulled out the eggs and the milk to start Daniel's usual breakfast, an egg-white vegetable omelet with two slices of whole-wheat toast and strawberry jam. "So, you gonna answer me or not? Was it an actual date or another client?" she asked, raising her eyebrows in anticipation of his answer as she expertly separated the yolks and the egg whites into separate bowls.

"A client," Daniel grinned, knowing that Donita had expected nothing less, "but an innocent client, at that!"

"Humph! You swear they're all innocent!" Donita shook her head as she grabbed for the cutting board and began dicing the green pepper and the onion for the omelet.

"Well, I have to believe in their innocence if I want to give them the best defense possible," Daniel explained. "But if it makes you feel any better, I really do believe this man is innocent, and so does his supposed victim."

"Well, then I guess this one's not accused of murder now, is he, since murder victims can't up and say he did or didn't do it?" Donita said cryptically, fishing for more information on this new client from Daniel. "So who is he, and what is he wrongfully accused of doin'?" Daniel never divulged privileged information about any of his clients to her, but he usually told her their names and why he was defending them. That stuff was public knowledge soon enough anyway, because his clients were usually celebrities and the media was invariably all over his cases. But Donita still relished hearing this stuff first, straight from the horse's mouth, so to speak.

"He's an FBI agent -- nobody special," Daniel replied, knowing that this answer would never satisfy Donita's curiosity. He took another sip of his coffee and waited for her continued prying.

"Well, then, how the heck could he afford to hire you? I know Fox Mulder doesn't make the kind of wages it takes to pay what you charge!" Donita said, referring to her favorite character on her favorite TV show.

Daniel laughed at her frame of reference. "You're right, Don, but his supposed victim and her fiancé are the ones who hired me for him, and they definitely are in the right income bracket to afford my legal services."

Donita stopped chopping vegetables and held the knife up in front of her as she faced Daniel, a look of pure exasperation on her face. "So, are you gonna tell me who this woman and her boyfriend are, or do I have to cut it out of you?!" she threatened him jokingly.

Daniel laughed and threw up his arms in mock surrender. "Okay, you win! You've worn me down. If you must know, I was hired by a Ms. Brenda Barrett and a Mr. Jasper Jacks for this latest case."

Donita's eyes widened as she immediately recognized their names. "The back-from-the dead model and her billionaire boyfriend?" she asked, dropping her knife on the counter and then rushing to the recycle bin in the corner cupboard and retrieving a folded newspaper from the stack of papers there. "I read all about them in here," she said triumphantly as she held up a copy of The National Inquisitor with the headline that read: 'MIRACLE OR MASQUERADE? … Is Pregnant Model Really Back from the Dead -- or Has She Just Been Hiding From Her Billionaire Boyfriend?'

Daniel took the paper from Donita's outstretched hands and read the article eagerly.

"They are one gorgeous lookin' couple, those two!" she said, pointing to the picture of Jax and Brenda just below the headlines. "So, is your client this Langan guy they mentioned there, by any chance?" Donita prodded as Daniel continued to read the information that had been leaked to the press about this case even before it had become his case.

"Yeah, right …Tom Langan," Daniel nodded absently, concentrating on what possible bearing this story might have on his case. Suddenly he looked up at Donita. "Forget the omelet this morning, Don. I'm going to make due with just the juice and coffee today. I need to grab a quick shower and then get to the office as soon as possible." He folded the paper and put it under his arm and headed toward his bedroom, kissing Don on the cheek as he passed by her.

"What on earth was that for?" she asked, startled by this unexpected show of affection.

"That, my beautiful Donita, was for being someone I can always count on to give me another angle in any situation!" he said cryptically as he ran off, leaving Donita shaking her head in puzzlement as to what exactly he meant by that.

It was 7:05 a.m. by the time Brenda finally emerged from the bathroom, fresh from showering, fully dressed, and ready to face the day ahead. She glanced over at Jax, who was still snoring softly, and wondered how she would tell him about the decisions she had made while bathing. During her shower she had thought about Tom some more and realized that today was probably the day he would be arraigned in New York. She planned to ask Jax to go to the arraignment, but she also planned to go with him. She knew that Jax would protest her accompanying him, so she planned to call Dr. Meadows during her morning rounds at General Hospital, which usually began around 8 a.m., to get her permission to go to the city with Jax.

She had thought about any possible objections Dr. Meadows might have to the trip, including the fact that it was a three-hour drive from Port Charles, which she would probably tell Brenda was too long a trip for now. But Brenda planned to counter with the fact that it was less than an hour by air, and Jax had retained one of his jets in the settlement with the government, and Brenda knew it was still in its hanger at the Port Charles Airport. Flying in the Lear was usually as restful as sitting at home on her own couch -- that was, if she could overcome her fear of flying.

Brenda had not flown since she and Jason Morgan had crashed in the ELQ jet last April, but she decided that now was as good a time as any to conquer her fear once and for all. Her wedding was in just a few weeks, and she knew that Jax would want a wonderful honeymoon in some exotic locale, even though he'd never press her to fly as long as she was still afraid. And besides, she really wanted to be in that courtroom today to support Tom, even if it meant facing her fear of flying head on.

Brenda walked quietly through the bedroom, watching Jax carefully for any signs that he was awake, but he still seemed to be sleeping just as soundly as he had been when she had climbed out of bed a while ago. He was on his stomach now on her side of the bed, hugging her pillow to him. She smiled as she realized that he was doing exactly what he had teased her about doing -- gravitating to the opposite side of the bed and hugging the other's pillow. She had never before imagined that he might actually do the same thing, because in their relationship he had always been the early riser or the one who came to bed after she was already asleep. She was suddenly very thankful to her hormones or her inborn clock or whatever it was that woke her up early and let her glimpse this sight.

The fact that he loved her was no huge revelation to her. After all, he told her every day in every conceivable way how important she was to him. The fact that he was working so tirelessly on Tom's behalf simply because he knew how important Tom was to her told her just how much he loved her. Any other man would have resented Tom for loving her, and would have turned their back on him -- but not Jax. He had been able to suppress any macho, territorial feelings he may have had and had been able to simply act out of his deep and abiding love for her. She knew he loved her very much, but still, seeing him in his sleep and clinging to a part of her when she wasn't there, infused her with a renewed sense of love for him and from him, and her eyes began to mist as she stood there gazing at him.

Brenda looked down at the small bulge that was barely visible beneath the oversized sweater she wore. Grasping her hands across her rounded tummy, she whispered, "Your Daddy is so wonderful, and we are both so lucky to have him. You'll never spend a day of your life wondering if you are loved -- neither of us ever will now. He loves us both so much, little one. No matter what other uncertainties you and I may face in life, we'll never have to doubt his love for us."

She swiped at the tears that clung to the corners of her eyes and blew Jax a tender kiss, then quietly opened the door to the hallway. Charlie immediately jumped up from his post on the floor just outside the bedroom and wagged his tail happily at the sight of her. "Hello, boy," Brenda whispered as she quietly closed the door behind her. "How are you this morning?" Brenda asked, stooping down to pet the excited dog; Charlie licked her cheek in response. "I bet you're ready to go outside, aren't you? Come on, boy. Let's head to the backyard, okay?"

Brenda stood and headed toward the stairs, with the golden retriever following closely behind. The dog passed her on the stairs and ran excitedly ahead of Brenda toward the closed kitchen door. "You really are in a hurry this morning, aren't you?" Brenda laughed as she ran to open the door to allow Charlie into the kitchen and then to open the back door that led from the kitchen out to the big backyard. She was so intent on getting Charlie to his final destination that she didn't notice the wildly blinking light on the answering machine that signaled that they had several messages waiting to be heard.

Danny Wilkerson sat, handcuffed to the bed, staring at the clock on the wall of the prison infirmary. It was 7:15 a.m., and Danny had been sitting and staring at that clock for the past ten minutes. The wound in his leg was still not completely healed, but the prison doctor had said he was well enough that he no longer needed to be taking up a bed in the infirmary. Now he sat waiting for the guard who would escort him to his cell in general population, which would be his home until trial.

He thought about the events of the last few days, and he grew angry. Just a few days before, he'd been living life at its best. He had money and power, and he had a position of respect and honor as Marco Leone's second-in-command. His clothes were Armani, and he routinely prowled the New York nightlife from dusk until dawn in his sleek, black Porsche 911, and then he got high and slept until noon with one beautiful, nameless woman after another. He had had the world at his feet. That was, until one beautiful woman came into his life -- Brenda Barrett.

His eyes lit with fire when he thought about her and what she had done to him. He had lost everything because of that woman -- his position, his power, even his name had been taken because of her and replaced with a number now. But all of this is only temporary, he mused -- I'll be out soon, one way or another. He could be acquitted altogether of charges of racketeering and kidnapping; or Mr. Leone could arrange somehow for his escape. He doubted any jury would acquit him -- especially with Brenda Barrett testifying against him and Tony Richards turning state's evidence against the family. Although he doubted Tony's testimony could really do much damage because he knew that Tony would be history soon. Mr. Leone would have him taken out long before he or his testimony made it to a federal court. But Brenda Barrett was another matter. Her testimony could convict him in a snap, so he had to trust that Mr. Leone had plans already in place to get him out of this -- and soon.

Danny knew that Mr.Leone's influence was everywhere. Even though Danny didn't know names, he did know some positions and places. He knew that Mr. Leone had people in the FBI and even several federal judges on his bankroll, and he had to trust that Mr. Leone was using his considerable influence now to help him out. After all, Mr. Leone knew Danny was loyal and would never sell him out, no matter what, and Mr. Leone rewarded loyalty to the family, so his release was assured. One way or another, he'd be out of this prison soon, and then he'd deal with that little bitch that was responsible for all of this -- and he'd make her wish she'd never been born.

After letting Charlie out, Brenda closed the back door against the light rain that was falling. She set out a bowl of fresh water for Charlie and poured him a bowl of dog food, then, after washing her hands, she went to the refrigerator, hoping to find something there that sounded good for breakfast for her and Jax. This was the first morning since she had found out she was pregnant that she actually felt hungry. No, not just hungry -- she felt famished -- like she hadn't eaten in forever. She was craving something sweet and something filling, but what?

Her eyes swept over the contents of the refrigerator, which was nearly full for a change. She was grateful that Jane had stocked it so well, because she rarely kept much in it -- even on the best of days. She saw the milk and pulled it out, knowing that no matter what else she ate, she had to drink a glass of milk for the calcium. She had never cared much for dairy products before -- except ice cream, of course -- but now she seemed to crave all kinds of dairy products, including yogurt, which made her believe that this baby was going to be a chip off the old Jax block.

She continued to scan the interior of the refrigerator when her eyes lit upon a can of maple syrup that Jane must have purchased because she knew she hadn't. Suddenly she knew exactly what she wanted -- French toast slathered in maple syrup. Jane had gotten a couple of loaves of French bread from the bakery yesterday, and Brenda was sure that they hadn't used the last of it with dinner. She grabbed the can of syrup, the butter, and a carton of eggs and set them on the counter, then ran to the cupboard where she told Jax to stash the bread. Yes! There was more than a half of a loaf there -- more than enough for French toast for Jax and her, and, luckily, French toast was one of the things Tom had taught her to make back at the cabin. She'd surprise Jax with French toast when he finally got up.

Brenda pulled a large mixing bowl out of the cupboard and grabbed for a large skillet. She was just hunting for the wire whisk, when she heard Charlie barking loudly, followed by a string of four-letter words uttered in a distinctly Australian accent. She dropped what she was doing, and ran to the door, throwing it open to see what had Charlie so excited. Brenda burst out laughing at the sight in front of her: Jerry, flat on his back in the mud of her flower garden, with Charlie standing on his chest, barking furiously.

"Call this bloody thing off me now before he tries to have my gizzard for breakfast!" Jerry yelled.

"Charlie! Down, boy!" Brenda called, and Charlie immediately stepped off Jerry and ran to the doorway where Brenda was standing. "That's a good dog," Brenda cooed to Charlie as she used a rag to wipe the mud off his paws before she allowed him back in the house.

"That's a GOOD dog?!" Jerry huffed as he extricated himself from the mud and trudged toward the cottage. "That wretched beast nearly killed me, and you tell him he's a good dog?!" Jerry stood on the outside steps leading up to the back door, pulling off his expensive loafers, that were now coated with several inches of mud.

"Jerry, what on earth are you doing here so early, and why were you out here in the backyard in the first place?" Brenda asked as she took Jerry's shoes and dropped them on the rug, then moved to the side to allow Charlie to get inside to his breakfast.

"I tried calling, but all I got was that infernal machine of yours. Anyway, I left Jax a message letting him know I was on my way. I'm here to lend my support with Tom," he answered nonchalantly, as Brenda eyed him suspiciously.

"Yeah, right," she answered skeptically, knowing that Jax had dragged Jerry practically kicking and screaming into cooperating on Tom's behalf. She knew that when she had gone to bed at 10 last night, Jerry was still doubtful about Tom's innocence, and she wondered what had brought on this change of heart -- if, indeed, he did have a change of heart. She was about to ask Jerry to explain his new attitude, when the door from the living room flew open and a very panicked -- and a very naked -- Jax came charging into the kitchen.

"Brenda, what's going on? Are you okay?!" He stopped when he saw Brenda did not appear to be in any danger, and relief replaced panic on his face. "I heard Charlie barking like crazy, and I was afraid something had happened to you," he said, pulling her into his arms and kissing her.

"I'm fine!" Brenda laughed, "but I'm afraid your brother isn't having a good day…"

Brenda was about to mention to Jax that he was stark naked, but it was then that Jax noticed Jerry, who was still standing just outside on the steps. He burst out laughing at the sight of his brother, caked in mud and looking like some swamp creature from a bad B movie. "What the hell happened to you, Jer?"

"I'll tell you what happened to me!" Jerry fumed. "That bloody beast is what happened to me!" Jerry yelled, pointing at Charlie, who was busily eating his dog food, completely ignoring the commotion around him. "He attacked me when I came around the house to see what had kicked on your new motion detector light in the backyard. I thought maybe one of Leone's men might have been here or something. But instead, the hound from hell there attacks me! And now I'm standing here covered in mud --!" And that was when Jerry first noticed Jax's attire -- or lack of it, and he burst out laughing. "… But at least I'm covered in SOMETHING, little brother!" Jerry laughed, pointing to Jax, and suddenly not caring about his ruined attire or his own appearance.

Jax's face flushed a deep shade of crimson as he realized he was nude. He had been so concerned for Brenda's safety that he hadn't bothered to grab on any clothes before he'd come tearing down the stairs. He glanced around and grabbed the linen tablecloth from the kitchen table and wrapped it around himself.

"What were you planing to do if I had been one of Leone's men -- shock 'em into submission?" Jerry was nearly doubled over with laughter now.

"No, actually I was counting on them making laughing fools of themselves -- like you -- so I could shut the door in their faces -- like this!" Jax responded, as he slammed the locked door shut, leaving a mud-covered Jerry outside in the rain. "Now, where were we?" Jax grinned, as he pulled Brenda back into his arms and lowered his lips onto hers.

BAM! BAM! BAM! The kitchen door behind them rattled with the force of Jerry's pounding. "Hey, you guys! This isn't funny! Jax! Let me in! Jax? Guys?" Jerry pleaded, his face pressed up against the window of the door. Jax and Brenda continued to kiss, which exasperated Jerry. "Jax, for heaven's sake! I was only kidding… Come on…Let me in…" Jerry whined.

"Go away, Jer. We're busy. Come back when you're a little more presentable." Jax grinned, breaking his lips away from Brenda's just long enough to flash Jerry a wicked grin and wave him away.

"Jax! I can't go away because my shoes -- which are completely ruined because of that infernal beast you're boarding -- are in there, and I can't very well leave without them!" Jerry finally had Jax's attention again, and when he looked at him, Jerry pointed to his shoes, which were nearly unrecognizable as much of anything, that were on the corner of the rug in front of the door.

"I suppose we really should let him in," Brenda grinned as she gave an exaggerated sigh and pulled away from Jax, unlocking the door to let Jerry in, "because we both know he's not about to go away…"

"Well, it's about time!" Jerry exploded, as he stepped through the door the second it was opened. He was not about to take the chance that Jax might try that little door-slamming trick again. "That really was a lowdown, dirty trick you pulled there, little brother."

"Whatever," Jax shrugged, grinning at Jerry. "Maybe you'll call before you come over from now on."

"I DID call!" Jerry shouted, throwing his hands into the air, "but all I got was that blasted answering machine of yours! Don't you two ever answer the phone or check your messages?"

"I turned the phones off last night and I just now woke up when you and Charlie caused all that hubbub. And, since I didn't even bother to grab my clothes before I got down here, I certainly wouldn't have taken the time to check the machine for messages," Jax retorted, as he grabbed a garbage bag out of the drawer and handed it to his brother. "Here, if you insist on staying, you can go to the basement and get out of those clothes and put them in here. I don't want you traipsing through the house like this. Then you can run up to the shower and get the rest of that slime off -- and then you can go home."

"And just how the heck am I supposed to get from the basement up to the shower with no clothes?" Jerry asked, as he stood at the top of the basement stairs. "As much as I know Brenda would love seeing me naked, I'm afraid that you, dear brother, would not want me to streak through the house, advertising my wares. If I did that, Brenda would know for sure that she got the short end of the Jacks stick, if you know what I mean," Jerry grinned, as Brenda shook her head and Jax groaned at Jerry's terribly bad pun.

"I've seen you in all your glory, Jer, and this should do nicely to keep you covered so you can make it up to the shower," Jax laughed as he grabbed the small dishtowel off the counter and handed it to Jerry.

"You wound me, little brother!" Jerry pretended annoyance, but his eyes were laughing at Jax's stab at him.

"Will you two stop this!" Brenda laughed. "Jerry, head on downstairs and start stripping, and I'll run upstairs and get one of Jax's robes for you to slip on. After your shower, you can borrow some of Jax's clothes, until you can get home and get some of your own. Now, you get downstairs and get undressed," she pointed to Jerry, "and you get upstairs and get dressed," she pointed to Jax.

"Yes, mum," Jax and Jerry said in perfect unison, which made them all laugh.

"I'm heading downstairs to get undressed. Don't forget to get me that robe, 'mum,'" Jerry grinned at Brenda as he closed the basement door behind him.

"I guess I'm already getting into mother mode, aren't I?" Brenda giggled, rubbing her stomach lightly. "Maybe I won't be so bad at being a mom, after all."

"You're a natural, sweetie," Jax said, kissing her lightly on the cheek. "You stay here. I'll grab that robe for Jerry while I'm up there." He glanced around the kitchen. "What's all this?" he asked, pointing to the ingredients for the French toast.

"Breakfast," Brenda smiled. "I have this incredible craving for something sweet, and French bread soaked in maple syrup just sounds perfect to me, so I thought I'd make some for us."

Jax's eyes widened. "YOU'RE going to make us French toast? Have you ever made French toast before?"

"Yes, I have, and it was actually edible," Brenda laughed, as she playfully punched Jax's arm.

"Okay, I believe you, but could you wait to start cooking until I get back down here? I want to take notes since this is a momentous occasion -- and I may need to document things for the insurance company!" Jax teased.

"Very funny! Now, get upstairs and get dressed and get back down here fast with that robe for Jerry, before he decides to parade through here naked. If he does that, I may just have to do a little 'comparison shopping' between the two of you!" Brenda laughed, shoving Jax toward the door to the living room.

"Like I'm worried you'd actually want him!" Jax laughed, dropping the tablecloth on the floor as he raced through the door on his way upstairs, just narrowly dodging the swat of the dishtowel that Brenda snapped at his backside.

"Jax!" Brenda yelled, picking up the tablecloth and running after him. "You can't expect me to put this thing back on the table, for heaven's sake! Grab another tablecloth out of the linen closet when you come back down -- and hurry, because I'm starving, " she added, from the bottom of the stairs.

"I'll just be a second," Jax's muffled voice called from their room.

Brenda leaned against the railing at the foot of the stairs and listened for Jax. She could hear the muted thud of Jax opening and closing drawers, most likely looking for clothes for Jerry to wear after he showered.

"Hey, guys! Did you forget about me?" It was Jerry, yelling from behind the partially open basement door. "It's rather chilly here, guys!"

"Jax, no need to hurry with that robe now. Jerry got tired of waiting, and he's on his way up," Brenda giggled, knowing that hearing that would have Jax back downstairs with the robe in nothing flat.

And she was not wrong, Jax came flying down the stairs, his jeans still unzipped, his shirt, robe, and tablecloth all in hand, stopping when he saw Brenda standing there alone, laughing uncontrollably.

"Hmm… I thought you weren't worried about me seeing Jerry au naturel," she teased, taking the robe and the tablecloth from Jax and strolling back through the kitchen door.

Jax just grinned and shook his head as he finished dressing. He could hear Jerry mumbling something about suing if he caught pneumonia or some parasitic disease from being caked in mud for so long, and Brenda laughing at his teasing complaints. He started toward the kitchen to join them, but then he caught sight of the answering machine and its wildly blinking light, indicating that there were others besides Jerry who had tried and failed to get in touch with them up until now.

He clicked the 'Play' button. "It is 7:25 a.m. and you have four new messages," the automated voice intoned.

Jerry walked past Jax on his way to the shower. "NOW you listen to that thing!" he groused as he started up the stairs, but the first message on the machine caught both his and Jax's attentions and stopped Jerry dead in his tracks.

"Mr. Jacks," the deep, male voice on the machine said, "This is Daniel Kennedy. It's 12:45 a.m., and I'm calling from St. Mary's Hospital in Queens. Tom Langan was severely beaten while in custody and is in serious condition in the intensive care unit here. Please call me at 212-555-6176, as soon as you get this message…"

Jax heard a strangled gasp from behind him, and he turned to see Brenda, her face pale and her eyes wide with horror and brimming with tears. "Oh, god…I'm responsible for this!" she choked out as she collapsed into Jax's arms.

Cari Ferguson hung another liter of 5% dextrose and water and readjusted the IV drip, then checked the CVP line and the attachment of the EKG leads on her patient's chest, making sure not to unduly disturb the sling that held his left arm across his chest, immobilizing his left shoulder that had been realigned. Everything seemed fine and the various readouts showed that the patient was doing well, despite his continued unconscious state.

Cari was working charge this shift in the intensive care unit, which ran from 6:00 a.m. - 6:00 p.m., and she had two other nurses working under her. It was not quite 7:30 a.m., and things were unusually quiet for ICU. Currently the unit only had one other patient besides this one, and the other patient, Mrs. Thornton, was actually an overnight emergency appendectomy whom they were monitoring simply because St. Mary's did not staff a recovery room past 9:00 p.m. at night. She would be leaving the unit shortly for her own room, so Mr. Langan would be getting a lot of extra attention from her crew, unless things picked up later in the day.

She grabbed the syringe full of Decadron on her med tray and fed it IV push into the Y-connection of the IV tubing, giving the handcuffs that attached Mr. Langan's right wrist to the bedrail a cursory glance as she did so.

"What was that you just gave him?"

Cari jumped at the sound of the deep voice coming from the shadowed corner of the room behind her. She had momentarily forgotten that Mr. Langan was a federal prisoner and that an agent from the FBI was assigned to be with him around-the-clock. She looked up to see an imposing figure emerging from the shadows behind her.

"It's a medication ordered for him by his doctor," Cari replied curtly. She resented having to answer to this non-medical person when she was merely carrying out her professional responsibilities.

"I asked what that was you just gave him, Ms. Ferguson," the tall, blonde man, who was probably in his late twenties and looked like he could easily stop a tank with just one hand, repeated as he walked closer to her, his steel gray eyes cold and hard as they focused on her nametag.

For some reason, this man's presence made Cari uneasy and the fact that he knew her name made her even more uncomfortable, and her hand shot up involuntarily to cover her hospital ID card, even though she knew he had already seen it. She swallowed hard as she tried to return his steely gaze with one of her own. "If it's any of your business," she began evenly, "this is Decadron. It's a steroid that the doctor ordered that helps to reduce brain swelling… Agent Blakemore," she added brusquely, looking down at his FBI ID that he wore in the pocket of his dark suit coat, indicating that he was FBI Special Agent William Blakemore.

He gave her a small smile then, and his steel gray eyes softened considerably. "I hadn't meant to make you defensive, like I thought you were giving him something that hadn't been ordered. I was just wondering what it was you were giving him, and why."

Cari visibly relaxed at the change in Agent Blakemore's tone and demeanor. When he smiled, she suddenly realized how handsome he was. Self-consciously, she tucked her short, dark hair behind her ears and tried to smooth out her pale blue scrubs, silently cursing herself for not taking the time to apply more makeup than just foundation and one coat of mascara this morning. "That's okay, Agent Blakemore," Cari smiled fully at him, "if you have any other questions, I'll be glad to answer them, if I can. I just didn't think an agent would be interested in the particulars of the care we're giving a prisoner."

"Well, Tom's a friend and a colleague," Agent Blakemore said softly.

"He's an agent?" Cari couldn't hide the shock in her voice. "But what happened… why is he in handcuffs?"

"Long story for the particulars of why he's under arrest and how he was beaten, too, but I think he got a raw deal on both accounts," Agent Blakemore replied as he got closer to Tom and visibly winced at seeing his bruised and swollen face, close-up. "He is going to live, isn't he?" he asked quietly.

Cari smiled as she saw the genuine concern for Mr. Langan reflected in Agent Blakemore's eyes. "Yes, he's going to live," she assured him. "In fact, his vitals are very good, considering what he went through. He does have a skull fracture and his trachea was badly bruised, though not crushed -- but the dislocated shoulder is minor compared to what he could have had. And the swelling and the contusions on his face look much worse than they really are."

"But why hasn't he come to yet?" Agent Blakemore asked plaintively.

"Well, his head took quite a pounding in the course of his skull being fractured, and that caused the brain to swell. We're giving the Decadron to help reduce the swelling, and once the swelling goes down enough, the doctors expect him to regain consciousness," she explained as plainly as she could.

Agent Blakemore nodded his understanding, but then a grim thought occurred to him and he looked up at her and asked anxiously, "Will he have any brain damage from this?"

Cari saw the pain in Agent Blakemore's eyes as he asked that question, and she wished her answer could be more reassuring, but she couldn't lie to him. "Maybe -- maybe not, but we won't really know that until he wakes up."

Once again Agent Blakemore nodded his understanding.

"I wish I could say definitively that your friend won't have any lasting ill-effects from this, but I can't," she continued. "And the longer he remains unconscious, the worse it usually is."

Cari moved to pick up her med tray, accidentally hitting against the bed as she did so, and Tom moaned softly at her jostling. His eyes slowly fluttered open and he murmured something indistinguishable. Both Agent Blakemore and Cari were surprised that Tom appeared to be trying to talk.

"Did he just say something?" Agent Blakemore asked hopefully.

"I think he did," Cari said, then she turned to Tom and spoke loudly and distinctly to make sure he understood her. "Mr. Langan, can you hear me?" Tom appeared to be trying very softly to talk to her. "Mr. Langan, your throat area is bruised, please try not to talk just yet."

But Tom persisted in trying to say something to them, so Cari put her ear near his lips so that she could better hear what it was he was trying so hard to tell them. Once again he repeated what he had been trying to say since he had regained consciousness.

"What is he saying?" Agent Blakemore asked, as Cari straightened up and moved away from the bed.

She gave him a puzzled look and then replied, "I think he keeps saying 'Angel'…"