I disclaim. Why is for you to judge.

Stud-U-Like

Part 1

There had never been a man like Shawn Douglas Brady. Only he had that peculiar combination of pride, obstinacy, occasional pig headed-ness, stupidity, jealousy and a real Irish temper.

He would have been unbearable except he also had gentleness, kindness, a heart the size of Asia, humour, common sense, tenderness, respect for everyone around him, brown eyes that melted with compassion and, though God forbid anyone use the word around him, sweetness that made honey seem bitter by comparison.

Belle knew that now. Seven long and lonely years without him had been too long. Ten microseconds without him would have been too long. He was the only man she had ever loved, would ever love, could ever love. He had been her best friend. Without him, she was less than whole.

Now, she would see him again at last. Oh, she was sure he would have changed since their last meeting, so long ago, she knew she had, but now she would know what had happened to them. They had left each other. Neither was to blame. They had each had their own lives to lead. She couldn’t have known then that she would become the internationally famous fashion designer with her own label, Bella, or that for seven years the communication between her and her best friend would dwindle from phone calls to the occasional letter, to not even a card at Christmas with the only information one would get about the other coming from their families, and that only sporadic.

She didn’t know if he was successful now, but she guessed he was. She only knew one thing about him: he was still living in Salem. Two things actually, but she didn’t think she properly understood the second.

She leaned back, letting the Amtrak train take the strain - Salem Airlines having gone bankrupt after the departure of Stefano Dimera, the need of having to take a plane at any time of the day or night to anywhere in the world going with him- as she was thundered over the American countryside from her stop at Chicago from New York, fantasising briefly about what he would look like now at the tender age of twenty six, his dark hair longer or shorter, his frame thinner or even more filled out, but his eyes always the same dark pools of passion as they had been in high school.

She wondered if he still used gel in his hair, if that lock still fell over his eyes, and most importantly of all, if his arms were the same warm ones they had been when she was eighteen. Oh, how she had fantasised about those arms after they had decided to return to being ‘just friends’ when she was offered a scholarship to New York State University halfway through her freshman year. That had been even worse than his previous proclamations of being ‘just friends’ with her. Then she didn’t know that he loved her, the depth of his passion, the way his eyes half closed and simply smouldered right before he kissed her. Or that their fights would be so horrible, that she could feel so utterly miserable, or that the making up would be the best time she ever had.

Now she was being ricocheted back to Salem by plane, train and automobile, flung back into his arms, and if her mother’s words were not inaccurate, into his heart.

God, how she had missed him.

For Shawn, Belle had been the world, and everything in it. Then they had chosen her education over their relationship, and Armageddon had come to Salem. Again.

His mother had told him only that morning that by the evening Belle would be back in town. Her subtle reference to the fact that Belle was still single and very available had made him blush, but as he was talking to her on his cellphone, she could only guess at his physical reaction. When God had made Horton women, though, he had equipped them with radar for the blushes of their men-folk and the slight stuttering that had accompanied Shawn’s reply that no he didn’t have a date for that evening, missing out the fact that he hadn’t had a date for months, had led her to tell him about the raffle and the prize.

He was still blushing seven hours later.

Belle climbed off the train with her luggage weighted unevenly around her. The three hour ride had not been too pleasant, but she had met a very sweet couple, Mr and Mrs Jones, who had been married for sixty years and were even more in love than they were on the day they were married.

Her mother and father were there to welcome her home, coming as she was, not only for a visit, but if things went well, to stay for good. She had missed her home town, missed the people and the places, missed Alice’s donuts and wisdom, and if truth were told, missed Shawn so badly that she felt she had lost a part of herself when she’d moved to New York. Not that she hadn’t been happy there, she had been very happy for much of the time, but returning night after night to an empty apartment, saying goodbye to yet another date at the door, not because they weren’t charming, intelligent, interesting men, but simply because they weren’t Shawn, had made her wish for home.

Feeling her father take the bags from her hands and her mother smooth her hair, Belle smiled. She was home now, and the emptiness would go away as soon as she saw a particular pair of dark brown eyes.

"Belle," her mother kissed her cheek and her father started turning red. "We have something to tell you, dear."

The Belle of seven years ago would have panicked. As it was she only said, "Yes?" her cool businesswoman demeanour serving her well in what could be the latest crisis in her always hectic life.

Her mother smiled, and Belle felt the tension in her stomach loosen a notch.

"Well, do you remember when you were given that Christmas present, and we said we were holding part back as it wasn’t quite ready yet?" She nodded and her mother continued. "It’s ready."

She handed over a white envelope, which, when Belle opened and examined the contents, caused her to scream in the middle of Salem Station.

Shawn shook his head slowly as he buttoned up his blue shirt over his white wifebeater and replaced his cap. Who knew a raffle with the name ‘Stud-U-Like’ could have raised fifteen thousand dollars for a cancer charity? His mother, that was who. Apparently tickets had not only been bought by every unattached woman in Salem, but also everyone in the rest of the state as well. At two hundred and fifty dollars a throw, they weren’t cheap, but some women had bought up to four, others clubbing together to buy as many as possible to increase their chances of winning.

He checked himself in the mirror and then strolled out of the changing room, his uniform left behind in his locker. He had just finished his last day as a rookie. When he came to work tomorrow, he would be the latest fully trained officer for the SPD, and it felt good. He would have been going for very legal beers with his fellow officers if it hadn’t been for his mother’s other arrangements for him.

He considered every blind date, dumb date, bad date, mad date and plain weird date she had set him up on since Belle had left Salem. Some of the women, it was true, had been very pleasant company. He even numbered a few among his friends, but no one could ever compare to the girl who had taken his heart all the way to New York, and had never chosen to Fed Ex it back to him.

On second thoughts, considering the last date he’d been on at his mother’s insistence, he went back to his locker and collected his handcuffs. He didn’t know when he might need them.

"You bought me a raffle ticket?" Belle gasped, staring down at it, "For ‘Stud-U-Like’?"

John growled something unintelligible, but Marlena hit him gently in the chest. "It was for a very good cause."

Her blue eyes narrowed as she stared at her mother. "What cause?"

"Cancer research," Marlena said swiftly before John could blurt out that they had bought fifteen tickets to increase Belle’s chance of winning, and that the other, secondary good cause they were talking about was ‘Shelle’, the Horton women and his wife’s pet name for the once and future couple.

"Oh," Belle deflated. Perhaps her mother hadn’t been meddling. "So what do I get?"

John and Marlena looked at each other, and Belle stared at both of them intently.

"No way," she started, "I did not win…"

Shawn lifted his dark head and stared at the limousine parked outside the police station.

"Victor," he began to say to the silver haired man in front of him, "you didn’t have to do this…"

"I didn’t. The organisers of the raffle," Victor chuckled at the very idea, "convinced me to donate this as part of the prize, or rather, one night in it along with dinner at Tuscany’s courtesy of your Aunt Maggie."

"She’s a beautiful car," he stopped his remonstrance instantly, instead taking in the silver car’s sleek lines and chauffeur at the wheel.

"Only the best for this night," Victor, with fifty years of business dealing with sharks, cowards and criminals behind him, could only just suppress a chuckle as his biological grandson swept his long fingered hands over the car and whispered at the polish on it. Boy, was he ever in for a surprise. "So are you ready for your big date?"

Shawn sighed, shoulders drooping a little. "As I’ll ever be. I can’t believe my own mother put me up for this."

"Don’t forget your grandmother, your cousins, your great-grams, and I do believe my daughter in law Chloe all had a hand in it." Shawn smiled in response.

"I’m still not used to calling her Aunt." Victor laughed out loud at last. "I don’t think I ever will be."

"You’re good for an old man, Shawn Douglas," the name stuck in his throat even now, knowing that this handsome lad was his flesh and blood, not the grandson of Shawn Brady, but his respect for the family meant he did not try to force their relationship. These days, however, Shawn simply acted like he had three grandfathers, no one of them more important than the others. "Now get going. You don’t want to keep that young lady of yours waiting."

"So she’s young, is she?" His eyes glinted with amusement. "Thanks for the hint, Grandpa."

Victor muttered something, but smiled happily as he watched his grandson climb into the back of the limo and disappear from sight. ‘Stud-U-Like’ had been a grand success, one of his daughter in law’s best ideas, he thought. Almost as good as her idea to continue the Horton / Brady / Kiriakis line after JT was born with a baby sister for Shawn Douglas. His smile widened thinking of his small, dark haired, dark eyed granddaughter. Perhaps after tonight, great grandchildren would be on the cards.

He stared up at the heavens for a moment, ignoring how strange he must look, and said in a calm voice, only a little trembling with longing, "You see, Isabella, everything’s working out just perfectly."

"Mom, I can’t believe this!" John grimaced. The high pitched squealing, which had been going on for the past two hours as his wife and step daughter (sort of) had helped his daughter unpack into the Loft and change her clothes, had yet to cease. He was getting a headache, and only Brady looked as pained as he felt, while Sami seemed far too happy for his liking, and Eric watched his twin sister for signs of plotting.

"Are they always like this?" Will asked from his reclining position on the sofa, his comic book temporarily ignored.

"Always," Eric, Brady and John said as one person.

"I’m ready!" Belle called down at last.

She walked slowly down the steps, showing off her outfit, a red dress that covered her from neck to ankle but suggested her figure even more provocatively than a dress that was low cut and short in the leg.

The fact that both her brothers, her nephew, her father and her brother in law Mike all tried to cover her up at once told her that her outfit was stunning.

The usual arguments all over with, the men stared down by their women, Belle checked herself in the mirror one last time and smiled. "Well, this is it. Time to meet my date."

"He’ll love you in that," her mother reassured her.

"He’ll love her in whatever she wears," Mike murmured to Carrie. "It’s practically genetic."

"This is it," Shawn muttered to himself as the limo drew up outside a tall apartment building. He found the address with ease and stared at the door before knocking. "Huh, this is the Loft. John must have rented it out. Well at least I know she isn’t a Dimera!"

He raised his hand to knock, but before he could, the door swung open and he offered the single rose he had brought as a gift to the woman behind it, plastering his best smile on his handsome face and waiting to find out who exactly he was supposed to be romancing that night.

"Shawn?" Belle had rather expected it would be him, for in a town of gorgeous men, he was one of the few she wasn’t related by blood to, but the change in him stunned her. She had thought, foolishly as it turned out, that at nineteen he was the most handsome man to ever walk through Salem Place, but at twenty six she found herself agreeably mistaken.

"Belle?" The air rushed out of his lungs. He was used to seeing her picture, in fact he’d secretly bought every magazine that had ever featured a picture of her or one of her designs, but seeing her in front of him, in that red dress, was a shock, a wonderful shock, but a shock nonetheless. The world revolved under his feet and didn’t warn him when it did it.

Marlena hurried from her place with John and prompted them both with a look, "What a beautiful flower. Let me put it in water for you, Shawn. I’m sure you and Belle want to be of on your date."

Shawn finally remembered his manners and offered Belle his arm. She took it gratefully.

They made it all the way into the elevator before the ultimate question was asked:

"So how far were you planning to go on this date? To the door? To the couch? Or all the way to bed?"

"With you," the kiss was sudden, tantalising, passionate, and a promise of the wonderful things to come, "all the way to the end of eternity."

All characters not from Days of Our Lives are connected to the Shawn and Belle Fanfics and Chatter Board, now run by CeeJay but then managed by Jamaristy (Jade, Mary and Kristy). If you would like to see why they feature so prominently, copy this link and say Reb sent you.

http://www.network54.com/Hide/Forum/103813

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

because I see the love right in your eyes
And the wonder of it all
Is that you just don't realize
How much I love thee

It's time to go home now
And I've got an aching head
So I give her the car keys
And she helps me to bed
And then I tell her
As I turned off the lights
I say my darling
You are wonderful tonight
Oh my darling
You are wonderful tonight."

"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

Part 3 (THUD rating: Bad, very bad indeed!)

Archie moved to the front of the crowd. "Don’t you mean a stick up?"

"No," Jan cringed a little, "I mean a Shawn up!"

"I told you she was crazy," Diva murmured to Karen.

"What’s a Shawn up?" Jessica asked the others.

"It’s when you give me Shawn, or I shoot the lot of you!" Jan screamed back, tossing her corkscrew curls over her shoulder.

"That’s not going to happen," Mrs H. stepped forwards. "You see, you lying, brillo headed, home wrecking tramp, it’s against our club rules to give Shawn up to anyone as a hostage."

"Rule two actually," Sir K put in.

"What’s rule one?" Misty asked, temporarily distracted.

"Never say the S**N word." Seal explained.

"Oh." Misty shrugged. "I wouldn’t anyway. Momma taught me not to cuss."

"Give me Shawn," Jan screamed, frustrated by their chattering.

Terri moved forwards. "Why should we?"

"Because," Jan said slowly as if she was talking to the village idiot, or Austin, "otherwise I will shoot you!"

"What good will that do you, exactly?" Terri continued.

"You don’t want me to shoot you," Jan looked confused. "You’re not supposed to do this."

Her perfect plan - follow Shawn, wave the gun around, demand Shawn, leave with Shawn - had hit a snag. They didn’t want to let him go.

"Terri," Shawn came from the front of the stage to a position closer to the gun wielding maniac, switching into police officer mode. "Jan, put the gun down. You don’t want to hurt anybody here, Jan, so please, just put the gun down."

Fury welled up in her, "Don’t talk to me like that!"

"Like what?" Shawn asked, as calmly as ever, but inside scared stiff that the gun Jan was waving around would go off and a bullet would find a living target.

"Like I’m a child," Jan wailed. "I’m not a child. I’m an adult, and I want to be treated like one!"

"OK, if you want to be treated like an adult, you need to behave like one," Shawn took a slow step forwards. "Now give me the gun, Jan, can you do that?"

"This isn’t how it’s supposed to go," she was shaking now, her whole body trembled, and the gun in her hand waved violently through the air. "It’s not…"

"Jan," Shawn put out a hand slowly, coaxing the mad woman, "if you don’t give me the gun, I can’t help you. You said you wanted to be treated like an adult, well, so act like one!"

"Shawn," Belle hadn’t realised she was still holding the microphone, but the word she had breathed so softly was amplified until everyone in the room heard it. Jan’s eyes flicked from the handsome man in front of her to the blonde beauty on the stage, and back again.

"So it’s like that, is it?" Shawn’s almost hypnotic spell over her was broken, she was back to her old, tirade-yelling, crazy self. "High school’s over, Belle, or didn’t you hear? Shawn is mine now."

"Jan," Shawn was fighting desperately to get her attention away from Belle and back on to him, but it wasn’t working. "Jan, look at me."

Jan however, was off in a world of her own. Ignoring Shawn, she pointed the gun directly at Belle, the quivering slowing as she did so. "Don’t you get it, Belle? You lost. I won. I proved that in high school, and I can prove it again now."

"Jan," Shawn repeated with more urgency, "I need you to give me the gun."

Jan paid him no attention. "Shawn’s coming with me, Belle, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it!"

"We could take her," Tag whispered to CRene, "there’s enough of us."

"Do you want to end up with a bullet in you?" CRene muttered back. "I don’t like it either, but the girl’s so crazy she’s dangerous. Anyway," a smile came to her lips, "this way we get to watch Officer Brady in action."

"Amen to that," Dee added from somewhere behind them.

Jan’s head swung around, but she left the gun pointing dangerously at Belle. "Shut up! All of you, just shut up!"

"Jan," Shawn took another step forwards so that he was directly in front of her, "If you put the gun down, we can sit down together and have a nice little talk, you do want to talk, don’t you?"

She shook her dark haired head. "No, Shawn, I don’t want to talk." She held the gun steady at last, and pointed it straight at Belle’s head. "I want you to come with me." There was a pause just long enough for her to realise he wasn’t going to come willingly. "Or I blow Blondie to Hell."

"OK, Jan," he shifted into a position of submission. "I’ll come with you. Just don’t shoot anybody."

"We can’t let her do this!" Jade hissed at Kristy and the starry eyed Mary.

"Don’t worry," Kristy muttered, staring hard at Jan. "I have a plan."

"Oh God, no," Jade wailed quietly, remembering some of Kristy’s plans to see Shawn without his shirt, or in his uniform, or just using his police handcuffs. The latter had landed them in jail over night, and all night long Kristy had just repeated, ‘the arms, the arms!’.

Jan signalled for Shawn to follow her out of Mrs H’s bar. She kept the gun aimed at Belle. She couldn’t risk him trying anything. Not when she was so close to fulfilment.

Once they were outside, Mrs H’s changed from a bar full of women as silent as if Shawn was about to kiss Belle for the first time into a bar full of women who had just watched Jan try to break Shelle up yet again and were having none of it.

"She can’t do this!" Maria yelled across the room.

"We have to do something!" A whole chorus moaned together.

"And we will," Kristy stood in the centre of the stage, microphone taken from the fainted Belle’s hand, and hands on hips. "We’re going to get him back, girls."

"All right Kristy!" Sir K yelled from the back, where the two female police officers were still clinging valiantly to his biceps, and resisting the temptation to run after Shawn.

Leesh took her eyes off of the door for long enough to shout, "But how?"

The silence that followed was quickly broken.

"I’ve got Chris on following duty," Kristy nodded at the door. "And for tonight only, the Jamaristy girls are going to Save Our Shawn!"

"SOS!" The women chanted. "SOS!"

"Mary!" Jade bellowed in the brunette’s ear. "Shawn needs you!"

"I’ll wait for you, Mary," Brady whispered in her other ear tenderly. "Now go save my cousin!"

"Don’t worry, Kristy," Mrs H called from behind the bar. "We’ll have the victory party ready for as soon as you get back. Now go get him, girls!"

The three sisters pulled on their leather jackets, marched across the floor in their boots, and with Belle carried by Mary, marched out the door.

For the Jamaristy girls, it was stomping time.

And Jan was about to find that payback was not one but three infuriated bitches.

"Where are you taking me?" Shawn asked from his position in the back seat of her car, handcuffed, but not gagged or blindfolded.

"Home, baby, home." Jan answered in her most insane voice, swinging the car across the road and back to her mausoleum of a home. "Now you need to be quiet, baby," Jan murmured as she drove up to the garage. "Just for a few minutes."

Shawn started screaming and thumping his feet against the back of the seats as hard as he could, but no help came. Jan spun around in her seat and growled, "Quiet, baby, or Mommy will have to spank you."

That made Shawn keep yelling, even louder than before.

"I guess I’ll have to gag you after all," Jan sounded almost sad about it. She traced the outline of his lips with her fingers, not noticing his reflexive recoil from her touch. "Hush now, pretty baby," she purred, and stuffed the gag into his mouth, binding it back tightly.

His eyes opened so widely that she could see the white all the way around the dark irises.

She had terrified him.

Grinning like nothing else on earth, Jan pulled a blindfold down over his eyes and jumped out of the car, bringing him with her into the house.

"What are we doing here?" Belle had woken up sometime between driving from Mrs H’s Bar to Salem Place.

Jade glanced over at Kristy, who was surveying the house with a pair of night vision binoculars, and wished that she had had the foresight to bring her Stud Ray, which detected any Brady men (or any other truly gorgeous, gentle, giving heroes, though they were few enough) even through reinforced steel or four feet of cement. Instead of staring at Shawn, she was explaining to his girlfriend that they had to get him back from the psycho bitch from hell.

"You want Shawn back, right?" She ran a hand through her hair, checking that she wasn’t suffering from helmet head before she saw him again.

"Of course," Belle nodded seriously, still not understanding why they were standing outside of this musty old mansion.

"Then we have to go in there and get him," Jade explained. "Come on. Mary, Kristy and I will do all the talking. You’re here to untie Shawn, and get him the hell out of the way if Jan starts doing anything stupid or dangerous."

"This is Jan we’re talking about." Kristy pointed out. "Everything she does is stupid or dangerous or both." She was staring through the window at Jan’s supposedly secret room, into where she had dragged their beloved SBD, who lay bound and gagged on her four poster bed. Kristy didn’t even want to think about where Jan was or what she was doing.

Belle nodded again. She could do this. She could save Shawn while the Jamaristy sisters kicked Jan’s fat butt.

"The coast is clear. We’re going in," Mary’s voice came over the walkie talkie radio. "Go! Go! Go!" She hollered, and they stormed the Spears mansion.

"Jan, you brillo headed bitch!" Jade screamed as she looked up and saw the arch fiend herself, "Where have you put Shawn?"

"You’ll never make me tell!" Jan shrieked back from the head of the stairs. "Never!"

"Jan," Kristy stepped forwards slowly, signalling to Belle to skirt around them and find Shawn in the secret room. "I know what you think you’re doing. You think you’re making a life for you and Shawn, but you’re not. You live in a fantasy world, Jan. Shawn doesn’t love you, he will never love you, he loves Belle and Belle only."

"No," Jan’s emotional roller coaster took a down turn, and she sobbed despairingly, "it’s not true! It can’t be true!"

"Jan," Mary joined in, watching as Jade climbed up the side of the banisters, swung over onto the landing, and came up behind the dark haired woman, surrounding her. "What good is it being with a man who doesn’t love you? Don’t you want a life for yourself? Don’t you want someone to love you for who you are, and not just say they do because you put a gun to their head? Don’t you want to be loved, Jan?"

"I am loved!" She screamed, "Shawn loves me! He does! Otherwise why would he have saved me that night?"

"Because he’s a police officer," Jade’s voice from behind her startled Jan, and she dropped the gun. It fell down the stairs to where Kristy caught it, took out the bullets, and threw it away. "It’s his job to help people, to save people, sick people, like you, Jan. He doesn’t do it out of love, but out of duty."

"That’s not true!" The screaming had died down to a low animal wail, "he loves me," she hugged her arms around herself, pretending they were Shawn’s. Sobbing, she began rocking herself, repeating the words over and over, "he loves me, he loves me."

Jade signalled to the other two to grab her, but before they could, Jan slumped over in deep unconsciousness.

"Thank God that’s over," Mary cracked her neck back, and grinned.

"Thank the Can I think you’ll find," Kristy corrected, nodding to the metal can on the floor by Jan’s head.

"Huh," Mary picked it up, "I knew it would be useful for something one of these days."

Jade looked up at the higher levels of the open plan hall. "But who threw it?"

"Call me Tim," a deep manly voice said from the shadows. "Dr Tim."

A man, tall, dark, strong and handsome with a deep Irish accent stepped forwards. He looked a lot like Shawn, just a little older and just a little less stop your heart gorgeous, but not much.

Kristy took one look and fell deeply in love. "My hero," she pouted prettily, and Dr Tim was a goner too.

"Oh brother," Jade sighed. Turning away, she saw Belle drag out the traumatised Shawn, who kept muttering something about ‘the underwear, the hideous underwear!’.

"Jan was my patient," Dr Tim explained slowly, "I’m a psychiatrist you see. I thought she was cured, but apparently not. I’ll have her committed in the morning."

"We have to get back to Mrs H’s Bar," Jade reminded them all. "Back to lover boy, Mary," she added when Mary looked likely to argue.

Belle glanced down at Jan’s prostrate form. "What about her?"

"She’ll be out until morning," Dr Tim flashed a smile almost as devastating as Shawn’s. "So what are you doing tonight, pretty lady?"

Kristy took one step forwards, and Dr Tim ran down to meet her. "That depends," she breathed, flirting with him heavily.

Another step closer.

Dr Tim flashed that smile again. "On what?"

"On whether you can handle a woman being in control," she moved right up against him now, and Jade rolled her eyes.

"Baby," Dr Tim said sexily, "I can handle anything you got."

"Want to make a bet?" Kristy dropped her hair from its ponytail and just as quickly as she had moved forwards moved back again.

"Come on!" Mary interrupted at last. "We’re going to miss the party!"

"Later," Belle whispered into her new boyfriend’s ear, "we can have a party all to ourselves."

That put the grin straight back onto his face. "Oh, really?"

Belle nodded with a faked innocence. "Just remember the uniform, Officer Brady…"

"They’re back!" Sir K yelled from his watch position at the doorway. "And they’ve got some guy who looks like a cross between Bo and Shawn with them!"

That sent an excited murmur through the crowd, and had them fighting to be at the front.

The sisters stalked in first, and almost as one being, the entire clientele of the JMK’s asked, "Did you win?"

"Darlings," Mary purred, postponing her reunion with Brady for as briefly as possible, "We are the almighty JMK!"

"Which means?" Mrs H had the audacity to ask from behind the bar.

Mary grinned. "We went…

"We saw…" Jade put in.

"We kicked ass!" Kristy finished with a triumphant crow.

"And Kristy found herself a new friend," Jade added swiftly as Belle, Shawn and Dr Tim were pushed to the front. A hand came around her waist, pulling her away from her sisters into a tight embrace. She giggled. "And I found an old one."

"Mary Lou," Brady had kissed Mary so thoroughly that she couldn’t see straight any more. "This one’s for you, darlin’."

The band, having played, ‘We Are the Champions’ six times in quick succession, were glad of a break, so when Brady offered to put on an old record and serenade his new lady love, they were only too glad to give up the stage to him.

Brady sang slowly at first, and then speeded up, but always his words were seductive, his blue eyes almost undressing her as she stood before him on the stage, and his hand wrapped around hers. "You passed me by one sunny day, flashed those big brown eyes my way," he grinned then, "And oo I wanted you forever more.

"Now I’m not one that gets around

I swear my feet stuck to the ground

And though I never did see you before

I said, ‘Hello, Mary Lou, goodbye heart,

Sweet Mary Lou, I’m so in love with you

I knew, Mary Lou, we’d never part,

So hello Mary Lou, goodbye heart!’

I saw your lips

I heard your voice

Believe me I just had no choice

Wild horses couldn't make me stay away

I thought about a moonlit night

My arms about you good an' tight

That's all I had to see for me to say

‘Hello Mary Lou, goodbye heart

Sweet Mary Lou, I’m so in love with you

I knew, Mary Lou, we’d never part,

So hello Mary Lou, goodbye heart!’"

The cheering from the crowd went on through their long, long kiss.

Shawn and Belle had been so into each other they hadn’t noticed time passing, so it was almost half past eleven at night when the JMK girls came over to them.

Jade had left her lover sitting at the bar, but the smile on her face came along with her. "You know, Belle, you owe us a song."

Mary glanced at Brady and grinned wickedly. "And you’d better make it the one you were going to sing earlier, or there will be trouble."

Wrapped in Shawn’s warm arms, Belle at first didn’t want to get up on stage, but then she remembered what Mary was talking about. She nodded enthusiastically. He groaned, slightly, as she pulled away, but a dozen other girls moved round him immediately, so he wouldn’t get lonely for an instant.

Belle climbed slowly up onto the stage, and took the microphone once again. "OK, so first I wanted to say the biggest thank you to the Jamaristy sisters for saving Shawn earlier, I don’t know what would have happened to him otherwise."

A loud cheer went up from the crowd, and Belle went on only when it died down. "Now I want to thank you all for being here tonight, and to the raffle managers for making this night possible! I know without ‘Stud-U-Like’ raffle, and it’s one and only prize, there is no way that the Salem branch of the Cancer Research Trust could have been given the fifteen thousand dollars it so desperately needed!"

Another cheer, even louder this time, was yelled.

"And last, but certainly not least, I want to thank Shawn, not only for generously being the prize of the raffle, but also for tonight." It was Belle’s turn to grin wickedly. "Now someone once told me that there are many ways to thank someone, but the best come straight from your heart. So for you, my one and only Tough Guy, this is straight from my heart."

Belle put back her head, Shawn moved forwards and Brady gripped onto Mary tight. It had been one hell of a night, and it wasn’t over yet.

"I don’t want you to be no slave," Belle’s voice was good, but what made it wonderful was the emotion behind it. The sheer loving lust. "I don’t want you to work all day."

"But I want you to be true."

Brady buried his head in Mary’s shoulder and hair as his little sister sang so lustfully those potent words, knowing all too well what their effect would be on Shawn.

Mary smiled.

Belle sang on.

The effect on Shawn was obvious.

"And I just wanna make love to you

Love to you

ooh-ooh

Love to you,"

Shawn looked about ready to do something rash, but he was being held back by a mass of women all trying to dance with him at once. He noticed none of them. He only had eyes for one girl, and the things she was singing were turning his blood to lava.

"All I want to do is wash your clothes

I don’t want to keep you indoors

There is nothing for you to do

But keep me making love to you love to you

ooh-ooh love to you."

If there had been any tiny part of him that had not been hers before that moment, Belle took it by storm.

Her voice sounded throaty and low through the bar, and the clientele of JMK’s gave up any hope of getting near SDB. Instead, they started planning everything they could do to help Shelle, as they had dubbed the couple, along. Archie was thinking of a T-shirt for Shawn that kept conniving females away. Possibly it would read ‘Property of Belle Black’, on the front, and on the back it would read, ‘You can only drool, fantasise and stare like the rest of us’. Maria was thinking of something similar, only in boxer shorts.

"And I can tell by the way that you walk that walk

I can hear by the way you talk that talk

And I can know by the way you treat your girl

That I could give you all the loving in the whole wide world

All I want to do is bake your bread

Just to make sure you’re well fed," Belle let her eyes run up and down Shawn’s lean body. He surely was well fed.

"I don’t want you sad and blue

And I just wanna make love to you."

As if for added emphasis, she slowed a little and made a Marilyn Monroe style pout.

"All I want to do is bake your bread

Just to make sure you’re well fed

I don’t want you sad and blue," One final wink, and a little wiggle as Belle finished the song. Shawn didn’t know what had hit him, but he knew he liked it.

"And I just wanna make love to you

Love to you

ooh-ooh

Love to you

Ooh-ooh

Love to you…"

Shawn’s jaw had dropped. By God’s providence and a lot of female intervention he had this marvellous, incredible woman back in his life, and he was damned if he was ever letting her go again.

She came down off the stage and into his arms.

"I love you, Shawn," she said after what felt like a blissful eternity of holding each other.

Shawn kissed her thoroughly then. "I love you too, Belle," he growled back.

Their forever kind of happiness began there.

"A good night’s work, wouldn’t you say?" Archie asked Dee as they leaned back against the bar, watching Shawn and Belle dance alone in the middle of the dance floor.

"Uh huh," Dee answered happily. She glanced over at the resident barfly / dreamer / James Dean devotee / crazy girl. "Now if we can only get Philip and Mimi together, everything will be just perfect."

Terri smiled knowingly, and Mrs H moved closer.

"I think I have a plan," whispered RG conspiratorially, taking her eyes off the dancing couple just long enough to glance around in paranoia of fear of being overheard. "All we need is a moonlit night, a dozen red roses, and fifty packets of ‘Spud-U-Like’ mashed potato mix!"

Every woman in the club not completely preoccupied by the men, moaned as one, "Oh God, not more ‘Spud-U-Like’! Not after the last time!

"Don’t you trust me?" RG asked, a little put out, and pouting, hoping that Shawn would glance her way and knowing he wouldn’t.

"After what happened with Bo, Hope and the whipped cream dessert bikini?" Jenn shuddered as she remembered the consequences of that little excursion into the fantasy world.

RG dismissed it quickly. "That was different. This time, I’m going to turn off the electric blanket before we run the bubble bath in the water bed, and warn Mrs Horton about the um, shall I say rather interesting, THUD making, side effects of my home made icing sugar so she doesn’t make donuts with it for the town fair again."

"That was funny, though," Maria giggled at the memory of being playfully chased by a certain Salemite male through Salem Place. "I never knew the John Black harem desiring gene could extend so far through his blood and marriage relations!"

RG wiggled her eyebrows. "See? See? My plans do work." She thought about this for a moment, while the others stared at her questioningly. "Most of the time."

"Fine," Mrs H. agreed, smiling wickedly. "Just remember to warn us about the difficulties beforehand this time, Reb. I’m still trying to get chocolate sauce out of my best silk sheets from when we got Jennifer Horton and Jack Deveraux back together."

"No chocolate sauce this time, I promise." RG’s always highly active imagination was in overdrive. "I always figured Philip for more of a champagne sorbet man myself. Now does anyone now where we can get hold of sixteen litres of coca cola, three dozen eggs and a chainsaw?"

And she was off on another flight of fantasy, leaving behind her four very happy and very in love couples, a bar full of slightly intoxicated but generally ecstatic women, and a knocked out Jan Spears. All in one night’s (and several months of deconstructing her less reasonable ideas to form the plan) work for the girl they called Rebel.

Now if she could only get hold of the security codes for NBC studios, she could really jazz things up…

Artist: ETTA JAMES Album: Diva Title: I Just Want to Make Love to You

Artist: Ricky Nelson Written by: Gene Pitney Title: Hello, Mary Lou