Part 1:

*********

It wasn't any suprise, raining again. Drops hit the tall panes of glass, drumming at the cold and running downwards in riverlets ... a repetition that provided minimal distraction. It was distracting from the mind numbing calls that were to be placed one on top of another. Such was the hell of a telemarketer. Chris Varick replaced the receiver of the phone and turning to study the Seattle skyline. The same drab sea of buildings mirrored back at him, mocking his inner restlessness, the misery of his current life. He stood and retrieved his coat from the hook behind him, pulling it across his wide shoulders he left the cramped office.

"Chris!" A voice rang out just as he pushed the illuminated elevator button. "Chris! Hey Man! Wait up!" Chris looked up just in time to see one of the junior sales reps. sprinting down the hall towards him. "This was just delivered.......Told to give it to you...."

Chris took the Fed Ex envelope from the man that looked little more than a high school senior. "Thanks," he said. His voice sounded hollow and toneless even to him. He pushed away the excuses he inevitably came up with to explain away the melancholy that hung around him like a lead weight. Tucking the envelope under his arm without bothering to even give a cursory glance as to its orgins, he stepped into the elevator. Half an hour and across town, he turned the key in the lock of his closet like apartment. The insistant meow of a furred creature at his feet drew his attention, the lastest victim of his on again off again girlfriend's abandonment. Tossing his keys, along with the envelope, onto the kitchen table, he reached down and picked up the cat, rubbed its head and flipped on the kitchen light. Retrieving milk for the cat and a beer for himself, he moved back to the table and flipped the envelope over curiously. His eyes scanned for an address, it came back in the form of a main box on the island of Grand Turk.

"What the fuck?"

He jerked at his tie, loosening it. Sitting the beer on the table in front of him, he tore into the package. His fingers encountered a single sheet of paper first. Withdrawing it, he read two simple questions.

Still closing? Ready to have some fun?

It was signed in thick black letters, Seth. Dumping the remainder of the package on the table he could see there was HIS passport, a ticket, and a visa issued by the Grand Turk goverment. A low whistle came from his lips a second before a actual smile turned up the corners. "What the hell are you up to, Seth?" he whispered, remembering the last time he had see the other man in a stairwell outside the firm, yelling, lots of yelling, accusations and explanations. In the end, Seth had saved his ass with a simple warning, given him a second chance, and now here he was in Seattle pissing it all away. That night something unusal happened to him, something he hadn't had since JT Marlin ... a dream. All around, white sand stretched down to the water's edge, calm sea, easternly breeze. Perfection.

***********

Two weeks later he left Seattle behind ... job, apartment, everything he owned. Now he sat looking out the small port window of a chartered sea wind. Nothing but water below, nothing but sky above. He shooked his head, more than a little amused. Seth had undoubtedly dropped a load of cash on this little trip. There was an undetectable shrug thinking about how the kid might have came by it. Parents? Trading again? Very unlikely he concluded.

Guess I'll find out soon enough. Hell, at least there's a vacation in it.

His thought were interupted by the pilot's voice. "There it is, Dellis Cay. Beautiful ain't she?"

"Yeah," he answered, uninterest practically dripping from his voice as he tried to curtail any further conversation the pilot might subject him too.

"It's a shame really," he called back to Chris.

"Why's that?" He took the bait, with a roll of his eyes.

"She was totally uninhabited until about three years ago. Privately owned, of course. Always had been ... nothing more than turtles and parrots there. Then they started building and just kept building. Mind you, never been there myself but to hear tell, it's a wonder all right." He glanced out the window again seeing tall pitched roofs above the canpoy of trees, the buildings apparently springing up right in their midst. He opened his mouth to ask a few questions but was silenced as the man told him to buckle his seat belt.

"Time to set this duck down." He tried to keep his mind elsewhere at the sudden drop in altitude. It had his stomach doing cartwheels. With a sudden thump they were gliding along the ocean surface. Finally the plane came to a stop beside the long wooden pier that jutted from the beach. Stepping out of the plane, Chris noticed the lone figure at the end, waiting. He was immediately struck by how the scene mimicked something out of Fantasy Island, minus the oddly short tattoo. His deep laughter echoed down the pier as Seth came forward to geet him.

"Hey! I thought you'd never show," Seth shouted, grabbing him for friendly embrace. Chris stiffened for a fraction of a second before relaxing.

"Delay in Denver," he said in the way of an explanation, looking over Seth's shoulder, the splendor of the island only glimpsed as he stood there. "How the fuck did you swing this?"

"Had a little help." Seth turned as if on cue and Chris noticed a decidely feminine figure approaching down the pier. His vision tunneled on her, everything else faded into his peripheral vision. Auburn hair floated in waves around her waist in time to the gentle sway of her hips. Closer, and he could see the deep swirl of her blue eyes, full lips poised in an easy smile. Her skin was tanned to a perfect carmel and untouched by the cosmetics Chris thought he liked so much on a woman ... but not this woman.

"That yours?" Chris mumbled, cutting his eyes to Seth, who shot him an amused glance.

"Not in my best wet dream," he laughed, watching the bikini clad woman. "She's my partner," he said as she came along side him.

"Talking about me already?" She leaned on Seth's shoulder, a feigned pout tugging at her lips.

"Just a little." Seth smiled, his arm slipping around her waist, pulling her to him for a friendly hug. "You must be Chris. We were concerned you ran into problems. Island jumping can be a little tricky around here." She extended her hand. "I'm Chynna."

He took her by surprise as he accepted her hand and then leaned in placing a gentle kiss on her cheek. Chris inhaled deeply as he closed in on her, the scent of vanilla and something slightly more exotic wafted from her warm skin. "Chris Varick."

"A pleasure," she smiled, glancing to Seth. "Tour time?"

"I don't know, I think Chris likes the view from here," Seth teased, glancing between the two.

"Yeah, nice scenery," he laughed, clapping Seth on the shoulder. "I can't imagine it getting any better."

"Move it inside, you two." She giggled, walking back down the pier.

"Yes, ma'am," Chris called after her. He threw his head back, hand flying over his heart. "You lucky bastard!"

"Come on! I told you it's not like that. She's my partner. That's it." Seth smiled, shaking his head. He walked along the pier with Chris following behind.

"Whatever you say, kid." He laughed, watching Chynna over Seth's shoulder. She stood on the beach near the pier, her hand shading her eyes. She was watching something across the waves, something that held her attention riveted to a single spot on the ocean. Chris turned to follow her gaze and they neared her.

"See it? See it, Seth?" she asked with a breathless excitement.

"Yeah, she a beauty," he smiled, waiting patiently behind her.

"She's a ninety footer if she's an inch," she absently mumbled. "Double masts ..." Hugging her arms around her middle, she turned to the two men. "Her name's Serenity."

Chris tore his eyes from the graceful wooden yacht cutting through the waves just past the islands only reef. Her face was flushed with excitment, with a wild abandon.

Amazing.

His head spun with other possiblities of putting that look on her face, of creating that untamed aura that reached out and sucked you in.

"Shit, now that's travling," Chris said, his eyes never breaking contact with hers. A low whistle came from his lips. "What a way to blow some change."

"Bet your ass, and worth every penny. " A mischvious grin spread across her face as she tossed a glance at the wave skiming yachet across her shoulders."Freedom," she sighed the simple word. "Sorry, Seth." She looked back to her partner, jogging backwards with a shrug of her shoulders and then turning at a dead run down the beach.

Chris watched her go, long legs churning up white sand in her wake, her face turned towards the shimmering ocean surface. Beside him, Seth let out a amused laugh.

"Might as well show you around. She'll stay up there until she can't see it anymore."

"Up where?" Chris asked, curious.

Seth pointed to a low rock outcrop that stetch out into the water, from a distance looking like a massive hump backed whale. "She sits on that damn rock for hours just watching for them, watching them sail out of sight." Seth turned inland onto a bricked pathway, tropical foliage immediately obliterating anything of the landscapre more than a few feet from the path.

"Telemarketing, huh?," Seth tossed over his shoulder as they entered the main lobby.

Chris stared, stunned for a moment at the opulence that suddenly opened up before him, the tropical jungle mixed with romanesque splender. The lobby itself sported high ceilings supported by a series of veined marble colums. The the floor below, with the same veined marble, gave way to the massive panes of glass that stretched from floor to ceiling at the entrace. Beyond the lobby, Chris could see two arching corridors that stretched from either side of the room. Straight ahead there was an open courtyard, the sound of running water. He thought it must be a waterfall.

"Chris?" Seth smiled over at him, trying to hold back a laugh at the look on the other man's face.

"Yeah, telemarketing. It's better than a fuckin bank teller," he growled, following as Seth motioned him to the far corridor. The passage was relatively short and opened into a room that more than tripled the lobby. Down a level and he was standing in the middle of a casino that rivaled Vegas' best. Row after row of slots took up one side of the casino and the tables took up the other half, separated by the wide marble walkway where he and Seth stood.

"Yeah, but not at good as owning it all." Seth threw up his hands, a guesture of proud accomplishment.

To say Chris was annoyed didn't quite cover it. Seth had brought him here to rub his nose in the fact that he'd came out of the Marlin fiasco smelling like a rose? That Chris had ended up broke with a shitty telemarketing job?

Fuck you, Seth!

"You said partner, right? How much of it's yours?" Chris' eyes narrowed with the question.

"Enough," was the only answer forth coming from Seth. He eyed Chris, wondering if the man even suspected what was around the next corner for him ... suspected that he was about to have his dreams returned to him. It didn't matter if he didn't suspect it, he would know soon enough.

"Come on, gotta see the rest, man." He turned, retracing his steps back through the lobby to the opposite corridor. Mouth watering smells wafted through this corridor and Chris could see it divided into two more hallways as the main corridor ended. After showing Chris through the restaurant and then a brief glance at the boutiques, they were back in the lobby at the elevators, two sets of gleaming stainless steel doors ... one a perfectly normal public elevator the other locked, going only one direction and that was down.

"What's with that?" Chris nodded towards the locked doors, curiosity throughly peaked now.

"Don't know. Chynna has the only key." Seth pushed the button for the opposite elevator. "It's always been locked, never been down there."

"You never asked her about it?"

Seth laughed at that. "I'd like to think I'm not a stupid man, Chris. I've learned where to many questions gets you. Fucked. That's where."

The elevator opened and they both stepped inside. "Think it's illegal shit?" Chris kept at him, trying to tug and pull any little scrap of information from him.

"Okay, in case you missed this," he sighed. "I DON'T KNOW !" He punctuated each word, driving home the point to Chris. "And look man, I don't care. I really don't give a fuck at this point." He kept the smile that was so easy to his lips now, uneffected, unconcerned. "What she's got going is her business. Just leave it alone."

"Fine. Just thought you'd be a little more careful than that, kid." Chris shrugged, feeling the motion of the elevator as they were carried upwards. "But I can understand where your coming from. You have a real sweet set up here by the looks of it. Why ruin that?" he said as the doors slid open. Seth lead him to wide double doors, glass.

Chris' eyebrows arched as he noticed it took a security card to get past the doors. "High crime neighborhood, huh?" he teased, lips splitting into a ear to ear grin.

"No, just don't want guests wandering in ... or that's Chynna's reasoning. There is a lot of shit in here that nobody else needs to see." He returned the grin, strolling onto what was obviously the offices of the resort. "That's Chynna's office." He moved across the room pointing out her closed door. "This is mine." He moved to the next and opened the door, more glass in the form of walls.

Fuck, this chick really has a thing for glass!

He had to admit it had a free and open feel to it. The office had a view of the beach below and the ocean beyond that. "That one there," Seth pointed to the office next in line through the transparent barrier. "It's for the new guy we're bringing in." He turned to his desk straightening the papers scattered across its top. "He's gonna have one hell of a ride."

"Looks like it," Chris commented absently, noticing the plastic covered furnishing of the other office. Against the teak desk in the other office something caught his eye, a frame that look suspiciously like it housed a sale ticket. But why the hell would there be a framed sale ticket in the next office? He took as step closer, to the sectioning glass. "Is that a.....?"

"Tell me, Chris. When did you develope such a overwhelming curiousity. See, I don't remember you having that back at, JT. Seemed to roll with the punches." Seth shoved his hands in the pocket of his faded levis, tilting his head and waiting for an answer.

"Fuck man, I don't intend to get jerked around like that again. If curiousity saves my ass, then so be it." Chris swung on him, glaring.

"Lots of things 'll save your ass. But curiosity isn't one of them, not here. It'll only get ya in deep shit with the boss lady." Seth's smile returned as he rounded the desk. Now he knew Chris wouldn't be able to let this go, wouldn't be able to turn a deaf ear to what was going on around him. Maybe not, but he would sure as hell try and make the man see the light, especially when it came to Chynna. What she was doing outside of the resort was a mystery, a mystery to everyone who knew her. Illegal? Probably. Dangerous? Most certainly. "Shit, it's about time I showed you where you'll be parking your ass for awhile," motioning towards the door they walked in silence to the elevetors.

***********

Chynna smiled, humming to herself. She glanced at the clock near the stove, slicing quickly through the plantain held firmly in her hand. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the few moments of solutide she had here in her home simply preparing a meal, listening to Buddy Holly's crooning swirl through the house. But as her lashes brushed her cheeks it wasn't a empty void behind her eye lids ... it was the smile of her new guest, it was Chris. She'd stayed on the rocks only long enough to let Seth get reacquainted with Chris. After all, four years was a long time between even the best of friends.

How many times had she sat up till late into the night listening to Seth talk about his months at JT Marlin, about Chris. "Now you're here. The infamous Chris." She sighed, opening her eyes. Throwing the slices of fruit into a searing skillet, with her other hand, she poured a generous amount of rum into the pan with the fruit causing a flame to leap from the pan. The timing was bad. She hadn't heard anyone enter the kitchen.

"Chynna, we're........" Seth started to say, coming up behind her.

"Shit!" she yelped, swinging just enough before she dropped the bottle to keep it from igniting. At her feet, it shattered and splashed against the clay tiles, the rum and glass spreading around her bare feet. Chris moved like lighting grabbing her up, his arms around her thighs pulling her up and against him.

"Shit, careful there, sweetheart."

Seth grabbed the a dish towel from the counter and tossed it over the spill, glancing over his shoulder at Chris. The inner smile that threatened to break out on his lips was stifled as he watched the little scene play out. Recovering from the fright she had recieved from the two, she turned to Chris, forgetting the sight of the amber liquid ozzing across the floor.

"Sweetheart?" She smiled, teasing and warm. "We that familiar all ready, Chris?" She lifted her now denim clad legs and wrapped them around his waist playfully.

"Just an expression, SWEETHEART," he said, watching the mock pout form on her lips.

"Oh, too bad," She leaned in and whispered. "Maybe, later then." She eased to the ground taking advantage of his surprise.

"You don't have to ask me twice." He reached for her hand pulling her back to him.

"Ummmm......I hate to intrupt this tender moment but....." Seth pointed to the oven, just as a tiny plume of smoke escaped the door.

"OH SHIT!" She hissed, tugging out of Chris' grasp. Throwing the oven door open, she saw there was no salvaging the contents. Reaching inside, she touched the hot baking dish and yelped, then reached of a oven mit.

"She really is a good cook." It was Seth's turn to tease, glancing at Chris."Too many distractions?" He turned his attention back to Chynna.

"No!" she hissed, annoyed to the fullest. "I'll just call over and have Armand bring something from the kitchen." She sighed, turning to lean on the counter. Her embarrassment shone in her cheeks as she found a spot just over their shoulders to concentrate on.

***********

Chynna lay her fork across her plate, placing the white linen napkin beside it. She listened to the conversation between the two men, catching up. She covertly watched Chris, sneeking as many looks at his strong profile as she dared without drawing his attention.

"What about Greg? Where's he now?" Seth asked.

"Like you care," Chris laughed, shoving another bit of glazed chicken into his mouth.

"Come on man, I'm serious."

Chris quickly grew somber. "He pulled up in front of the big house of his about six months after the raid and blew the top of his fuckin head off. Did it right there in the ferrari."

"Shit!" Seth seemed to consider the information. "Adam? Richie?"

"Adam hit rehab, AGAIN. And the last I heard, Richie's collecting for a bookie in Jersey." Chris finshed the last of his dinner and pushed the plate away.

"Guess I shouldn't be surprise." Seth shook his head, cutting his eyes to the conspicuously silent Chynna. "You remember me telling you about Adam and Richie?"

"Yeah, I remember EVERYTHING you tell me." She leaned back in her chair and pulled in a mouth full of papya whine. "Listen, I hate to intrude but I'm curious." She smiled, looking between Chris and Seth. "Did you show him his office?"

"Office?" Chris pinned her with a curious look.

"I take that as a no," she smiled. "Suppose you didn't extend the offer either?" She sighed, turning to Seth.

"I thought I'd let you do the honors." He reached down beside his chair and produced a thick folder. Handing it to her, he waited. Chris sat listening, trying to decipher the conversation between the two, more confused with each word. Then she shoved the folder across table top towards him.

"The office beside Seth's is yours, if you want it. Along with a job and a offer of partnership." She took a deep breath and launched into what exactly she expected and was offering. "Your cut will be the same as Seth's."

Chris looked over to Seth, the question already forming on his lips.

How much?

"Trust me, man. Take it!" Seth practically yelled, his eyes alight with laughter. Oh, he was having a good time with this, watching Chris squirm.

"And since you'll be needing your rep number, I've taken care of that. Along with straightening out your employment history. You no longer have had ANY involvement with JT Marlin. Instead, you took your series seven while with a little firm that I currently......"

She clamped her lips closed. The rest of her holdings were none of his concern. "How much do you know about international banking?"

"little to nothing," he replied absently.

"Hum, I really don't think that'll be a problem. I'll have Jean Paul see to it."

Chris sorted through the documents in the folder, all pertaining to him in one way or another. "How?" he looked over to her.

"Wrong question, Chris." She leveled a serious cold stare at him. "There is nothing that money can't buy." She stood ready to seek her privacy on the moon washed beach, but Chris wasn't willing to give up her attention just yet. Seth sat back waiting for the enevitable, the fireworks to start.

"Ok, then tell me why? Why me?"he demanded.

She tilted her head toward the ceiling asking for devine patience with the man. Her nerves were already on edge with the anticipation of his arrival. She turned on him, needing him to understand the basic rule now. "Again, wrong fuckin question," she hissed, turning and slamming her palms onto the table beside him, leaning in. "I'll make it simple." There was a heavy pause. "BECAUSE I CAN!" She cut her eyes to Seth, sparks lighting the blue depths. "Get him straight!" Her attention went back to Chris. "NEVER, ask me either of those questions again. Either you accept the offer or you don't but I don't answer question." She turned and strode from the room, through the patio doors and down to her beach, her secluded cove.

"That went well," Seth laughed, leaning forward and bracing his arms on the table.

"Is she fuckin serious?" Chris looked up from the folder, going over the contents again.

"Nothin but," he replied. "I went through the same thing. The only difference was my father was standing in the next room at the time."

"Your old man knows about this shit?"

"Yeah, he introduced us." He glanced to the door making sure Chynna was gone. "So, you takin it? You'd be a fuckin idiot not to, man. The amount of money she's talking about is just sick. Twice the haul at JT. And you OWN a piece of it!"

Chris thought about his options, Seattle or a tropical paradise? Telemarketing or Trading again? The choice was easly made.

"I'm in."