Chapter Thirty - one

Agent Mission Log Entry:

I swear, I’m gonna tie a bell on that man!

You can’t turn your back on him for one fucking second!




“Excuse me?” Gabriella demanded of Richie. She was absolutely sure he hadn’t said what he’d just said. The look Richie gave her clearly asked if she was deaf. “You did not just say he wasn’t here.”

The look on Richie’s face screamed ‘what the fuck’. “Yeah, I did.”

“Where the fuck is he then?” Gabriella demanded. After coming in from the meeting with Nate, Gabby had gone to take that much needed and well deserved hot shower. When she’d finished in the bathroom, she’d come back into the living room, only to have Richie tell her that her charge was gone.

“The guy at the front desk called up,” Richie patiently explained. “There was a package that Kidd had to sign for.”

“And he just went?” Gabby really couldn’t believe that it was possible for someone to be that hard-headed. Well...maybe. “Of course he did,” she spit out through clenched teeth, while stomping off toward the front door of the apartment. She checked her gun and chambered a round before slamming the door behind her.

“It was just the lobby,” Richie told the empty room, a grin flirting with the corners of his full lips. “What could possibly happen to him in the lobby?”


That joke would come back to haunt Richie way too soon.


Wasting no time, Gabby sprinted to the stairwell. She didn’t have time to waste waiting on the elevator. All the way down to the ground floor of the building she cussed Jon, calling him every name imaginable except the one his parents had given him. As she ran down the last flight of stairs, she growled, “With God as my witness, if the fucker is down here and everything is hunky-fuckin’-dory, I’ll probably kill him.”

Everything wasn’t hunky-fuckin’-dory, Jon wasn’t in the lobby, and she wasn’t going to have to kill him. When Gabby stepped into the lobby, Vincent had replaced Oscar at the front desk and stood staring at her like she was a mad woman. And, she could admit she probably looked like one, as she quickly scanned the area looking for her wayward charge. Where the fuck was he?

When she was only a few feet from the front desk, she asked Vincent, “Where is Mr. Bon Jovi?” She tried to sound casual, and wasn’t sure she’d pulled it off.

A puzzled frown crinkled the older man’s brow. “Mr. Bon Jovi? I haven’t seen him.”

“He didn’t come down to sign for a package?” she asked, trying to remain calm.

“A package?” Vincent shook his head. “There isn’t a package here for him.”

A chill raced down Gabby’s spine and permeated every cell in her body. “You didn’t call up to the penthouse and tell Mr. Bon Jovi there was a package requiring his signature?”

“No, miss,” Vincent answered, clearly puzzled.

“Well, then, I guess I won’t have to kill him,” she muttered to herself as she hurried to the elevator. Her day just went from ‘not too bad’ to ‘totally fucked up’ in six seconds.

Vincent finally got over his stunned surprise. “Wait, Miss Gabriella, there’s a note here for you.” He scurried out from behind the desk and rushed toward Gabby with his hand outstretched, an envelope clutched tightly in his fist.

“For me?” Gabriella stared at the envelope in his hand, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She knew without even opening the letter what it was.

Stretching his arm out toward her again, offering her the envelope, Vincent asked, “Aren’t you going to take it, miss?”

The envelope looked like a viper to her, but she took it anyway. “Thank you, Vincent,” she replied woodenly as the elevator doors dinged open.

The doors slid closed on Vincent’s smiling face, and Gabby looked down at the envelope in her hand. Might as well get this over with.

Unconcerned with preserving evidence, given the fact that fingerprints would be impossible to trace since the sender probably wasn’t in any database yet, Gabby tore open the envelope.

Miss Prince,

I believe you have something of mine. I have something of yours. I propose a trade.

You will receive further instructions shortly.

She sighed. The type written note was exactly what she’d expected. Now, she needed a plan.

*~*~*~*~*~*


“What the fuck do you mean - ‘He’s been taken’?” Richie demanded.

“Taken. Ya know, kidnapped, abducted, held hostage,” she paused briefly, “forcibly removed from the premisses.” She raised one eyebrow at Richie’s stunned expression. “English is your first language, right?”

“Fuck you,” he growled. How could she be so calm? He watched as she crossed the room and flopped down on the sofa, leaning back to stare at the ceiling. “Aren’t you going to do something?”

“I’m trying,” she replied calmly. “I’m trying to ignore you.”

“Ignore me?” Richie sputtered. “Aren’t you going to do your JOB?” He didn’t wait on an answer; he just went on in a rant that would make Jon proud. “Oh wait, if you’d been doing your JOB, this would’ve never happened to begin with.”

Gabriella sat up to glare at Richie. She seriously considered pulling her gun on the guitarist again. “I was in the fucking shower,” she said dangerously soft. “I’ve warned him repeatedly what would happen if he didn’t follow the rules that I laid down. I warned him to STAY IN THE APARTMENT. If he wasn’t such a rule breaker we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Then her glare turned positively icy, and she growled, “I was beginning to like you. Don’t make me shoot you.”

A wise man would shut up and sit down. But, Richie’s ‘brother’ was in danger, and he was anything but wise...or calm. “Tell me you have a plan, “ he demanded. “Tell me that you’re going to get him back. Tell me that you’re going to do something other than sit there and ‘try to ignore me’.”

“I’m trying to come up with a plan,” she told him, leaning back to once again contemplate the ceiling. “It would help immensely if you’d shut the fuck up.”

Richie looked like he’d swallowed a bug. Honest to God, the woman was exasperating. His stunned expression slowly turned to a scowl, and he just stood there glaring at her for a full minute while she still sat looking at the ceiling. He finally flopped into the chair facing her. When he couldn’t remain silent any longer, he asked, “And why aren’t we calling the police, exactly?”

Raising her head up off the back of the sofa, she gave him a patronizing smile. “Aw, aren’t you cute, thinking on your own and everything.”

“While that comment is bitchy to the extreme it does not answer the question at hand,” he responded dryly.

Her lips twisted into a wry grin. “Call the police? And tell them what exactly? A man from the future has kidnapped our friend...oh no reason officer, it’s just that our friend is going to run for president in about 20 years and win. He will be a very popular president, to everyone except the right wing conservatives that have a problem with who he wants to put on the Supreme Court. Oh yeah, that’s gonna go over real well.” Having made her point, she let her head fall back onto the sofa again.

Richie really didn’t want to admit she was right. “Well, there is that.”

Chapter Thirty

Agent Mission Log Entry:

Nathaniel MacAnally is here. He says that he was sent to help. I haven’t seen him in about a year, not since our break up. It is simply my opinion but he never was a very good agent.

He better not get in my way.




The sounds of the city seemed somehow muffled by the walls of the two buildings that made up the alley. The smells of the dumpster filled the small area. Gabriella pulled away from Nate, and held a hand up to cover her nose. “There’s a coffee shop two buildings down that way,” she pointed to her left. “Meet me there in twenty minutes,” she told him, “and we’ll talk there.”

He nodded. “Twenty minutes. Don’t be late.”

Gabby waited until Nate walked past her and out of the alley before she exited it as well and went back to Jon’s penthouse. She wanted to check back in at the apartment before going to meet Nate.

She found Jon in the kitchen pouring a cup of coffee. How could any man look so sexy first thing in the morning? His hair was barely tamed after obviously being finger combed before leaving his room. The black running shorts were baggy and barely clung to his hipbones, and his chest was left bare to her hungry gaze. A shadow of yesterday’s whiskers covered his chin and jaw line, making him look scruffy and oh so very sexy.

He looked up when she entered the kitchen, flashing her a boyish grin. “Good morning, beautiful.”

Heat flooded her face, and she didn’t even try to hide the blush. “G’morning.”

There must have been a mischievous little devil sitting on his shoulder that made him tease her. “Sleep well?”

“Like a baby,” she responded quickly, looking away from his sculpted chest. “Look,” she began, all business-like, “I’ve got to go out for a bit. I need you to stay in the apartment, and don’t let anyone in. Got that?”

“I got it, Gabbs. I’m not a three-year-old,” he grouched.

“Really?” she asked with a sauce grin, before turning on her heel and heading back out of the kitchen, tossing over her shoulder, “Try not to get dead, k?”

Jon ran after her. “Hey, wait! Where’re you going?”

Continuing toward the front door, Gabby called back. “I could tell ya, but then I’d have to kill ya, and that would sorta defeat the purpose now wouldn’t it?”

The door slammed behind her just before Jon reached it. “Fuck,” he muttered to himself.




In the lobby, Gabriella stopped to tell Oscar she was going out and asked him to keep a close eye out for anything suspicious. She assured him that she wouldn’t be long, and would only be at the coffee shop. As she made her way to meet Nate, Gabby continually looked back, watching the front of Jon’s building as she made her way to the corner and then crossed the street. The coffee shop sat diagonal across the street from Jon’s building, and she’d chosen it so she could keep a close eye on the front door.

She had scanned the place and already spotted Nate at a corner table before the door closed behind her. Obviously, he remembered her preferences in seating arrangements and had chosen a table where they could both sit with their backs to a wall and still be able to see the door, and apparently he’d done his research. The seat he’d left empty for her had a clear view of Jon’s building through the front windows of the coffee shop.

“You’re early,” he told her, flashing a boyish grin, as she slid into her seat.

A cup with the shop’s logo on it was waiting for her, steam slipping through the little hole in the lid. Nate’s thoughtfulness surprised her. He’d always been a rather selfish man when they were a couple. He’d been vain too. It wasn’t like he didn’t have reason to be; he was a very good looking man, sandy brown curly hair, high cheekbones, square jaw, lovely sherry brown eyes, athletic build. He was a man that didn’t have to wonder if women noticed him; it was a given. “I have to make this quick,” she told him now.

“Understood.” He nodded once in agreement. “Where are we? And what do you need?”

“Right now, everything is fine. POTUS is safe.” She slipped the lid off her coffee as she spoke, then took a hesitant sip of the hot brew. Nate had even remembered her favorite flavor, hazelnut.

“Any leads on the un-sub?” Nate sipped his own coffee, while waiting for Gabby to answer him.

“Last night, he took a shot at POTUS,” she began, then quickly relayed the details of the night before, leaving out only some of the facts. She wasn’t sure why she didn’t tell Nate everything, but her gut told her it wouldn’t be a good idea. She finished the briefing with, “I found a bracelet on the rooftop. I think it may be a device to get him back home.”

Nate nodded. “Could be. Do you have it with you?”

“No,” Gabriella shook her head, “it’s in a safe place though. I’m hoping that I, well...we can use it to get home instead.”

He shared a smile with her. “That’s good news. I thought I was stuck here.”

Before Gabriella left the table, the two of them agreed to meet the next morning at the same place and time. Nate agreed to do a little investigating to see if he could find the assassin and Gabby intended to keep Jon safe while he did it.

Nate leaned back in his chair and watched as Gabby left the building then crossed the street. His eyes didn’t leave her until she was safely inside Jon’s apartment building. It had been easier than he thought to get her to trust him. Maybe she wasn’t as good as everyone thought she was.

Smiling, he took another sip of his coffee. He’d found out exactly what he’d hoped to find out this morning. Gabby had the bracelet. Now, he just had to get it back from her, but he knew she wouldn’t give it up without a very good reason.

And, he’d give her a good reason.

Chapter Twenty - nine

Agent Mission Log Entry:

The bracelet the assassin left behind on that rooftop has an Ident-a-spot on the underside. Obviously, my thumb print isn’t the one required to make it work, so I can only assume that the logo on the top means it’s part of the time device.

My gut says this is his way home. It could be mine instead.


“It looks like a man’s ID bracelet,” Jon commented from behind her left shoulder. He was leaning over to get a better look at the piece of jewelry in question. His breath ruffled the little wisps of her hair that had come loose from the bun she’d pinned it up in for the party. The musk of his cologne wrapped around her filling her mind with images of their lovemaking.

From his spot over her right shoulder, Richie put his two cents in, pulling her back to reality. “I gave one just like that to my first girlfriend.”

Trying to ignore the distraction of Jon’s close proximity, Gabby responded to Richie’s comment. “Not like this one.” She turned it over and pointed to the black rectangular screen. “See this? It’s an Ident-a-spot. It’s programmed to a specific thumb print; that’s what will activate it.”

“What does it do?” Jon asked, the discomfort of his chest momentarily forgotten.

She had been trying to determine that very thing for the past half hour. She’d been sitting at Jon’s desk while she examined the bracelet and gave brief, terse answers to their unending and expected questions. They’d asked what it was, where she’d found it, and what she intended to do with it.

The only one she couldn’t answer with absolute certainty was that last one. She could only guess at what it did. “I think it was supposed to be his way home, to our time.”

At those words, Jon took a deep breath and stood up, his mind racing. She had a possible way home? She could leave? That put a whole new spin on things. It also made him think about this unknown killer. What exactly did Gabby intend to do with him? But, most important, “You could go back to your time?”

Richie’s eyebrows rose. “Ah, fuck. That’s my cue to leave.” He wasted no time heading for the door. He recognized the tone in Jon’s voice and there was about to be a scene that he was sure neither Jon nor Gabriella would want him to witness.

Richie heard her answer just as he was pulling the door closed behind him. “If I can figure out how to make it work, yes.”

“You’d leave me?” Jon asked. Damn. Where had that needy question come from? “Disregard that,” he told her quickly, straightening to walk to the other side of the room.

“I do have a life back there, ya know?” she replied softly.

“A life where in your own words, ‘No one will miss you’,” he reminded her. “Isn’t that what you said?” Wait. He really didn’t want to have this discussion right now.

“I’m not going to discuss this right now.” Her chin lifted sharply in defiance, as she stood up from the desk to turn to face him.

“You’re right.” He refused to take a step back and appear to be retreating.

She did a double take. What? “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” He wasn’t going to give her any more ground. That admission was all she was getting.

“Yeah, I heard you,” she nodded in agreement. “But honest to God, I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

He grinned down at her. “You are such a smart ass.”

She grinned right back. “Well get off the field of the Superdome there, Jon. ‘Cause you ain’t no Saint.”

A sharp bark of laughter filled the room, and then he flashed her his best boyish grin. “I could get used to having you around.”

“Bite your tongue.” She looked around the room. “Where’d Richie go?”

“He left to avoid the scene he knew was coming,” Jon answered her with certainty. He knew the guitarist as well as he knew himself. Deciding to take advantage of their alone time, he leaned in closer to her. His right hand moved to her cheek, to lightly stroke the satiny skin there.

Gabriella’s eyes drifted closed. There was no reason to further entangle the two of them, but her body couldn’t resist the pull of his. Irresistibly, she leaned into his hard body, lifting her lips to his.

A grin tugged at the corners of Jon’s full lips when her eyes drifted closed. He had her now. He dipped his head to sip from her lips, slipping his tongue inside for a better taste. His left hand snaked around her waist, pulling her tighter against him. A groan rumbled in his throat when her hands sifted through his hair, tangling in the curls at his nape. He was lost in her.

Who had who?

He lifted his head to look down into passion-clouded green eyes. “Come to bed with me?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” she answered huskily, nipping gently at his chin.

Jon wasted no time. He wasn’t going to give her time to change her mind. Bending quickly, he scooped her up in his arms, and with a purposeful stride, headed for his room. He didn’t have to watch where he was going; he’d made this trip a million times before. He spent his time wisely, nibbling on her ear and placing hot kisses down the graceful column of her neck.

From his own bedroom, Richie heard a soft feminine giggle out in the hall, then seconds later the slam of Jon’s bedroom door as he kicked it closed. Grinning to himself and flopping back on his bed, Richie picked up the remote and turned on the television, then stacked his hands behind his head. The chuckle escaped then. He just couldn’t hold it in any longer.


The next morning, Gabby woke before Jon. Silently, she slipped from the bed and gathered her clothes, careful not to make a peep as she dressed. Then after a few minutes in the bathroom to take care of morning business and quickly brushing her teeth, she sneaked from the room to go make her morning perimeter check. She’d take a shower once she got back.

Jon’s penthouse occupied the whole top floor of the building. So, after giving the apartment a thorough search, checking doors and windows, she got on the elevator. Every morning, she went down to the lobby to check in with the security guard on duty. It would be one of two men, Oscar or Vincent. She smiled when the doors slid open, and she saw Oscar at the desk.

Oscar was a young man, she’d guess in his mid-twenties who had big dreams of being an FBI agent. He was working full time for the security company that provided services to the building while attending college at night, majoring in Criminal Justice. Of Hispanic decent, he was beautiful with dark hair and eyes, and he couldn’t last two seconds without flirting with Gabby.

She liked Oscar. The back story she’d given him had been just enough for an eager agent-to-be to keep him on his toes, but not enough to make someone ask too many questions if Oscar couldn’t keep things to himself. She’d shown him her ID, told him that she was on protection detail, but explained that the details of the situation were top secret. She’d hinted at ‘National Security’, and Oscar had eaten it up with a spoon, going all out to help in any way. Surprising enough, he’d also seemed to keep the few details she’d given him to himself.

After few minutes of exchanging pleasantries and glancing out the wall of glass at the front of the building, the man dressed all in black and standing across the street caught her attention. He hadn’t been standing there five seconds ago when she last looked that way. It was impossible, but he looked like Nate. It just couldn’t be!

Without finishing her sentence, she left Oscar gaping as she ran from the building. Nate was waiting for her, and jerked his head toward the alley a few feet from where he stood, indicating he’d meet her there.

Gabriella took a deep breath to settle her nerves and slowed her step, moving calmly up the street so that she could cross at the corner. What was Nate doing here? She hadn’t seen him in almost a year, not since they’d argued and she’d broke off the engagement. They’d met while cadets, began dating after graduation, and moved in together while both working on Presidential Detail. He’d been jealous of her successes and the speed at which she’d moved up through the ranks. They had argued many times before she’d finally broke off their relationship. He had left the Secret Service shortly after the break up. The last she’d heard, he was working security for a private contractor.

Why was he here?

With her hand on the butt of the gun at her hip, Gabby stepped into the opening of the alley. “Nate?” she called softly.

“Back here,” he answered, stepping forward out of the shadows.

“It’s really you,” she gasped, surprised. She hurried over to hug his neck. “Why’re you here?”

“I came to help,” he answered, as he squeezed her in a warm hug.