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Part 2

The limo ride was one full of ‘do you remembers’ and ‘whatever happened to’s’ but it was also full of longing glances and tiny, feather light touches on both sides, as if they had to reassure themselves this wasn’t a dream, that Belle had come home, and that their date was really happening.

As it drew to a slow halt, Shawn took Belle’s small hand in his larger one. "You ready for this?"

The look she gave him smouldered into his memory, "Honey, I’ve been ready for this my entire life!"

With a gulp, he helped her out of the car and on with her shawl, before turning to walk towards Tuscany’s. With their arms inter linked, they walked up the path from the car park and into the restaurant.

"Shawn! Belle!" Maggie kissed their cheeks, giving her nephew’s arm a little squeeze. "It’s wonderful to see you two here again."

"Hi Aunt Maggie," Shawn suddenly thought of something, "Did you know about Belle winning the raffle?"

His Aunt had the decency to blush a little. "I must confess I did, but you know it was all for the best."

She caught his eye as Belle leaned back into her date’s chest. "I’ll show you to your table now."

"Thanks," Belle loved the feel of Shawn’s shirt against her the back of her dress, and his warm fingers interlaced with hers. Neither noticed the rather loud sounds from the kitchen that echoed through the bar, competing with the band for attention and only just losing.

"I saved this one just for you," Maggie patted her favourite nephew’s cheek as they were seated at the most secluded, private and romantically friendly table that Tuscany’s had. "Have a wonderful evening."

They ordered quickly, not wanting to take their eyes off of each other, almost as if they were afraid that if they stopped looking the other might disappear.

Shawn stood slowly and took her hand in his, "Would you dance with me Belle, for old times’ sake?"

The smile she gave him turned his heart into an inferno of passion. "And for the new times too, I hope."

Did he know how bone meltingly incredible his grin was? She thought as he led her to the dance floor and took her in his warm strong arms. Could he know how much she had missed his touch?

The band leader glanced at the couple coming to the floor and struck up a new tune.

The male vocalist, handsome but nothing to Shawn in Belle’s eyes, began to sing slowly, as if caressing a lover with his words. Shawn pulled Belle closer into his arms as the words drifted to them. "It's late in the evening,
She's wondering what clothes to wear
She puts on her make up
And brushes her long blond hair
And then she asked me…"

If the singer still sang, Belle and Shawn didn’t know or care. Suddenly, they became the only two in their own little world. She lifted her head to look into his eyes, and sang so quietly that he alone could hear her. "Do I look alright?"
Shawn wondered if she knew how beautiful she was to him, then realised she couldn’t know. She would never believe it. Instead of telling her, he met cerulean eyes with chocolate ones, and sang to her the rest of the song, "And I say ‘yes’,
You look wonderful tonight." Shawn smiled, he knew every man in Tuscany’s must be envying him right now, because he had in his arms the most beautiful girl in the world. "We'd go to a party
And everyone turns to see
This beautiful lady is walking around with me
And then she asked me do you feel alright
And I say yes
I feel wonderful tonight
I feel wonderful

"I think," Belle said slowly, resting her head on his hard chest, "maybe."

Whatever she had been going to say was lost in the sound of a small explosion going off in the kitchen. She jumped, but Shawn’s reaction was to hold her tighter. Perhaps after all the explosions they had been through in their high school years, his first instinct had become to hold on to her for dear life, or he might just lose her.

Screams echoed, and then a flustered Maggie hurried out to calm them all. "I’m terribly sorry," she began, only to be interrupted in turn by the appearance of her irate French chef, Pierre, who marched out and threw his white hat onto the ground stomping on it.

"I quit!" He yelled, after a string of French swear words fill the air. "No longer will I work in such a place as has him in it!"

Pierre pointed an accusing finger at the pastry chef, who snarled back, "You don’t quit! I quit! I can’t work with him, Maggie! He’s impossible! Even Rolf wasn’t as bad as you!"

"Impossible, am I? Worse than the Dr Rolf you complain of so often, am I?" Pierre was actually jumping up and down in his rage now. "I shall show you impossible! I shall show you a doctor!"

He lunged for the other man’s throat, and they fell to the floor, grappling and struggling until Shawn and the bandleader pulled them apart.

Maggie threw her hands up in the air and gave in to the inevitable. "They’ve wrecked the kitchen." She told him in an undertone. To everyone she announced sadly, "I’m afraid all dinner orders are cancelled due to a staff dispute," she tried to smile but it came out obviously fake, "we can only offer you free drinks and bar snacks, I’m afraid."

"Tu es un vache!" Pierre howled at the pastry chef called Bart, who replied with an insult a good deal more American and nastier.

"Shawn," Maggie looked at her nephew imploringly. "Help."

"You are both under arrest for disturbance of the peace, drunken brawling, and," Shawn sighed, he couldn’t believe Salem law stated this, but it did, "damaging the décor and fittings of Tuscany restaurant without warning Maggie first that you were a) a member of the Black family, b) technically insane, c) a Dimera, or d) part of the entertainment."

He proceeded to call for back up and read them their rights.

Belle watched, eyes a glitter, as her date did his police duty, and then waited in the limo for him to finish with Maggie and come back to her.

"Belle," he started as soon as he was sitting down again, his hair ruffled and his tie a little askew from his altercation with the two cooks, "I’m so sorry about that. I really didn’t want to drag you into all of that police business."

She licked her lips lingeringly, letting her eyes run the length of his body.

"Baby," Belle answered drawing closer to him and making sure that the partition between them and the driver was fully closed, "you can play Officer Brady around me any time you want."

Shawn straightened his tie, then changed his mind and took it off. "Where do you want to go now, Belle?"

She cuddled herself closer to his chest. "I don’t know, but I’m still rather hungry."

"Then let’s go to a bar," he sat up, and pressed the intercom button.

"A bar?" Belle didn’t much like the sound of that, then remembered that wherever they went, she would be with Shawn, and cheered up.

"Mrs H.’s Bar, please," Shawn told the driver, then leaned back.

Belle crinkled her nose in confusion. "Mrs H. as in your great-grandmother Alice?"

He laughed then, and a slight blush spread over her cheeks. Of course not his grandmother. "No," he answered when his breath returned, "not Grams. A very different Mrs H."

Belle was about to ask another question, but Shawn kissed her then, and every question went out of her mind.

Mrs H.’s Bar, also known as the Mrs Robinson Club, JMK’s, and more simply The Haven to its members, was a large building on the opposite side of town to Tuscany’s. As such, it took all of fifteen minutes to get there.

According to Salem legend, the all female members were sworn in to the club with a simple oath: ‘Forgive me Father, for if I ever get my hands on a certain police officer S. D. Brady, I am going to sin so very badly.’ Unfortunately from the members’ point of view, no one had yet to say the second part in full confidence. They dreamed about saying ‘Forgive me, sisters, I have him at last, but he’s too damn hot to share’ with a continuity greater than that of character lines on soap operas.

That night, so many gorgeous women were crowding the place that the bouncer/ bar man, Sir K, had been forced to call in reinforcements in the shape of every off duty police officer in Salem, all two of them, both female, and both very preoccupied with caring for Sir K’s ego rather than crowd control. Not that he minded one little bit.

"Listen up, everyone!" Mrs H. yelled across the crowded barroom. "That was Vic’s limo driver on the phone."

A dead silence fell over the whole room. Even Sam’s impression of Enrique Inglesias’s ‘Rhythm Divine’ ground to a halt.

"They’re coming here, tonight," low murmuring began all over the bar, then Mrs H. grinned and added, "and Shawn’s wearing blue. He’s got his leather jacket in the back as well."

A huge cheer rose from the almost all female crowd. Shawn in a blue shirt with his leather jacket? How would they survive it?

"This," Mrs H. went on, "calls for another round of drinks."

"On the house?" Vanessa O called from the back.

Mrs H. gave a single nod. "One drink each, then you’re back to paying for it."

"Back to business," Sir K yelled from the doorway, a police woman on each arm, "their limo has just pulled up."

Immediately they started checking their make up, yanking up skirts, down necklines, checking their tights, and trying to look alluring as possible while keep as much as their attention as they could on the door.

When he finally walked in, the collective sigh of lust could have blown down a wall.

"Hey Mrs H.," Shawn smiled that smile and sat down on a barstool, holding Belle’s small body close to his. "You serving tonight?"

"Anything you want, Shawn," Mrs H. replied, her voice low and breathy.

"I’ll have a Guinness, please, and this lovely lady here," Shawn paused to kiss her temple, and never had Belle been more envied than at that moment, "will have whatever she wants."

"This your date, Shawn?" Mrs H. jerked a head towards Belle, knowing that if she showed the slightest sign of mistreating him, the women around her would be like sharks scenting blood.

"Yes, Ma’am," he looked so full of pride and love that another collective sigh went up. "She’s my Belle."

"It’s nice to meet you, Mrs H.," Belle said politely, curious at all the stares they were getting from the mostly female clientele.

"You too," she wiped her sweating hands on a cloth she kept specially for the purpose, and with all of her poise, looked steadily not at Shawn, "now, what would you like?"

Belle smiled, warming to the older woman, who, she noticed, was wearing Bella designed clothes. "A drink, a dance, and then some dinner."

"I can recommend a Sailorman’s Kiss and oysters to follow." Mrs H. noticed Archie’s insistently bobbing head, and then remembered the day of the week, "but the dancing will be a bit of a problem."

"Oh, it’s Thursday, isn’t it?" Shawn grinned again, and the girls started discretely fanning themselves as the heat rose to their cheeks.

"What’s so special about Thursdays?" Belle asked innocently.

Mrs H. didn’t have a chance to answer as the door swung open, and three stunningly beautiful Southern girls sauntered in.

"It’s Ja-" the green eyed red head said.

"-Mar-" the brown eyed brunette continued.

"-Isty," the blue eyed blonde finished, then they all said together, "Karaoke night."

The three stunning sisters simultaneously caught sight of Shawn, and he disappeared beneath their triple hug.

"Darling!" Jade breathed.

"Gorgeous!" Mary purred.

"Heartbreaker!" Kristy murmured.

"How are my girls?" Shawn asked from somewhere beneath them all.

"We’re great," Jade giggled, "and we can see how you’re doing!"

Belle blushed. The looks Shawn was giving her were so blatant in intent that she was surprised one of them hadn’t burst into flame.

"And on Jamaristy’s Karaoke night," Mary wiggled closer to Shawn, "you have to sing before you can dance."

"And before you sing," Kristy glared at Mary, "you have to tell us who just walked through that door."

Mary spun around and her dark eyes met with the most gorgeous sight she had ever seen, instantly rivalling Shawn in her heart. That tall, blue eyed, blonde haired hunk of a man was making her head spin without even trying. At the sight of his companion’s smile, Inara had passed out at the back of the crowd, and Terri was struggling to revive her while making sure she wasn’t missing anything good.

"That," Belle answered her proudly, "is my big brother, Brady Victor Black."

"Brady?" Mary was being fanned by both of her sisters at once, but it wasn’t getting rid of the starry look in her eyes. "He’s called… Brady?"

"He’s also my cousin," Shawn added as Mary nearly collapsed back into his arms.

Brady walked slowly towards her, leaving his uncle at the door, and kissed Mary’s hand like a real Southern gentleman. "I’m Brady Black," he gave Mary his most devastating smile, "and what’s your name, brown eyes?"

Some strange force was keeping Mary conscious and upright, but only just. She nearly swooned as his eyes stared into hers, and when he laid that big hand of his over hers, she was almost at his feet. "Mary," she said almost coyly.

"Mary, huh?" Brady gave her another smile. "Well I know at least three other Mary’s here tonight, so how about I call you Mary-Lou?"

Mary started. "Why Mary-Lou?"

"Because," he pulled her closer, not caring that his younger sister was watching, completely enamoured of this brown eyed Southerner, "I think..." he whispered the last words in her ear, for her alone, "I think I’m falling in love with you, Mary-Lou."

"Oh," she answered. "Really?"

Brady nodded.

"Then I think we’re going to have to do something about that." She leaned in closer.

"Like what?" Brady’s breath tickled her neck, so she moved her mouth above his.

"Like this," then, as it had for Shawn and Belle earlier, the rest of the world ceased to exist for them.

"Oh dear," Kristy sighed to Jade watching their sister fall into Brady’s arms. "She’s a goner."

"And she hasn’t had one dance yet!" Jade complained, then she drew her sister’s attention back to Shawn and his date. "You see what I see?"

Kristy sniffed happily, "Our little boy’s all grown up."

"And by the end of the night," Carly added from her barstool, from where she could survey the entire room, "he’s going to become a man."

"Carly!" They giggled, then turned to stare at the closest part of his anatomy, his backside with Southern charm, grace, and lust.

"Belle?" Shawn was kissing her neck as if he were a butterfly, making delicate landings on the soft petal like skin there. "Do you have any idea how much I missed you?"

"Sweetheart," she murmured back, forgetting there was an entire room full of the Shawn Brady appreciation club surrounding them, "not half as much as I missed you."

The kiss that followed was passionate, long, fulfilling and observed by the entire room. Every woman there, excepting Mary who was too preoccupied with Belle’s brother, was wishing to be in Belle’s shoes. Or, rather, wearing her lipstick that was being so thoroughly kissed off by her raffle prize.

Many took the moment to finally grab his backside unnoticed, and it never occurred to Shawn that Belle had suddenly grown an extra hand. All he knew was that he loved her, mercilessly the passion thrilled him. He was in its grasp. Nothing could save him from it now.

But an old enemy was about to try.

Many things had happened to Jan Spears since graduating high school. Not many had been good. Most had been bad, but the worst night of her life had become the best, because it had reintroduced the hero of her story to her. She had been saved that night, saved from her latest boyfriend, his filthy mind and his even filthier schemes to use her body to further his own ends. Saved by the police officer called in by a concerned neighbour. Saved by Shawn Douglas Brady.

She had tried to join the club at Mrs H.’s Bar, but they had decreed her too evil, stupid, and, worst of all in her mind, without good enough hair to join. Her only avenue of release cut off, Jan retreated into her own world, a world where Shawn saved her from every bad situation and rode with her off into the sunset on the back of his Kawasaki motorcycle. A world where nothing could hurt her because he was near. A world where fantasy ruled, and Shawn loved her.

A world that would never exist for real.

She became obsessed with Shawn, following him, watching him, writing him love notes, full of innuendo, and when she heard of the raffle, she bought as many tickets as she could afford. All to no avail. He wasn’t interested. He had rescued her once, and then handed her over to a psychiatrist.

He wanted nothing more to do with her, but she wouldn’t accept that. She thought that if she could only make him understand how much she loved him, needed him, wanted him, he would love her in return, and if there was one thing Jan wanted, it was to be loved.

So tonight, she was going to make Shawn feel her love.

"Are you happy?" he whispered in her ear as they clung together, waiting for Jadyn to begin to sing, and dancing slowly to the opening bars of the music through the crowded dance floor, unaware of all the envious stares and longing looks, knowing only each other, wanting only each other.

Jadyn had her eyes closed as she sang, she was picturing a certain Salem PD officer as she had seen him the summer before at the beach, wearing nothing except a pair of swimming trunks. "You're a song
Written by
The hands of God
Don't get me wrong
This might sound
To you a bit odd
But you're the place
Where all my thoughts
Go hiding

Right under your clothes
Is where I'll find them."
Belle’s fingers were sneaking under the collar of his shirt, nestling in the curls of his hair, and sensually touching the skin she could reach. The song was putting thoughts of the end of the evening into her mind.

Jadyn sang on, staring at Shawn, but seeing his head rest next to Belle’s rather than the back of his neck where her fingers crept. "Underneath your clothes
There's an endless story
There's the man I chose
There's my territory
And of all the things
I deserve
For being such
A good girl honey."

"You know, Shawn," Belle purred directly into his ear, "I’ve been a very, very good girl for the past seven years."

Shawn didn’t reply. She had no idea what she was doing to him. Or maybe she knew exactly what she was doing. Either way, he was loving her more by the second.
"Because of you
I forgot the
Smart ways to rhyme
Because of you
I'm running out of
Reasons to cry
When the friends are gone
When the party's over
We'll still belong
To each other!"

"Are you still going to be mine tomorrow, Isabella," Shawn’s voice was like honey and nectar, almost too sweet, but not quite, "or will you go back to your life in New York without me?"
"Underneath your clothes
There's an endless story."

"Listen to the song, Shawn," Belle prayed he would understand. She was falling in love with him all over again, and was finding it all the easier because she had never stopped loving him in the first place. "There’s your answer."
"There's the man I chose
There's my territory
And of all the things
I deserve
For being such
A good girl honey!"

Everyone applauded, even Shawn who took his hands off of Belle only just long enough to do so. She smiled as he kept running his fingers along her bare skin in between claps. Jadyn descended to the crowd looking pleased with herself, and shot the man she had been thinking of her sexiest smile.

His voice inspired longing in her that she hadn’t known for seven, long, lonely years. "Is that a yes, Belle?"

She pulled back just far enough to stare into his eyes. "You think I could ever leave you again?"

He knew she wouldn’t, couldn’t, but her intensity surprised him. In reply, he kissed her cheek, and waited for the next song to begin, holding on to her as if she was the only thing that stood between him and the gates of Hell, and to him, perhaps she was.

"Not so fast, lover boy," Jade came up behind them, startling them both.

"What?" Belle wondered if Jade wanted to dance with Shawn, then chided herself, of course Jade wanted to dance with Shawn.

"You’ve had your freebie," Kristy said from the other side. "Now before you dance again, you owe us a song."

"Both of us?" Shawn let Belle move a little way from his body, but kept a tight grip on her hand.

"No, sugar," Jade glanced over at Kristy. "Just Belle for now."

Belle wasn’t sure she liked the looks the sisters were giving her boyfriend. "What should I sing?"
"How about…" Mary, appearing out of nowhere with Brady still firmly attached, whispered something in Belle’s ear.

"I couldn’t!" Belle nearly squealed.

"Of course you could!" Mary gave her a prod in the ribs with her free hand. "Just imagine what it will be like later."

Belle blushed scarlet as Mary bobbed her eyebrows suggestively.

Realising that Belle needed encouragement, Tag started a chant of her name, and it quickly went around the whole bar.

Shawn gave her a big grin as she was dragged onto stage.

"Don’t worry about him!" Meli shouted from next to Shawn.

Jade smiled broadly. "We’ll look after him, won’t we, Kristy?"

Kristy just gave Belle a big wink.

"Oh, God," Belle murmured, before taking up the mike and listening for the beginning of the music that Mary and Brady were arranging to play. The fact that Brady was shaking his head furiously, and was shooting Shawn death ray glares told her that he wasn’t happy about it, but she was a grown woman. She would show her brother just how grown she was. She nearly giggled, but then the tune started, and Belle put on her most serious expression.

"I think you all know who this is for," her smile was so wide that she nearly split her lips.

Brady covered his ears.

Mary yanked one of his hands down. "What are you doing?"

"I am not listening to my baby sister sing that song!" Brady put his hand back up.

"Brady," Mary moved closer, making her movements slow and seductive. "If you don’t put your hands back down, how are you going to dance with me?"

Brady’s hands appeared to change positions in space without any intervening time when they were moving. He brought his head closer to hers and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Sweet Mary Lou, you are going to be the death of me."

She grinned wickedly. "At least you’ll die happy."

"Amen to that," Jen M murmured as she walked by.

Belle began to sing, her eyes in intimate contact with Shawn’s, though his body was being pulled in several directions at once by some of the girls. She didn’t mind. Shawn was hers and hers alone. He might dance with any or all of them that night, but she was the one he would be taking home. Smiling, she crooned slowly, letting her voice drip with her passion for him, "I don’t want you…"

The line was cut off by the door of the bar swinging shut. There stood the arch fiend of Salem herself: Jan Dimera-Spears, looking madder than ever.

"Nobody move!" she whined irritatingly, "This is a Shawn up!"

Artist: Eric Clapton Album: The Best of Eric Clapton Title: Wonderful Tonight

Artist: SHAKIRA Album: Laundry Service Title: Underneath your Clothes