The television was on, but at the moment she wasn't paying careful attention to it. Instead, she let the voices from the program wash over her as she stared down at the brown lump lying next to her on the couch. Her hand ran over it absently, as if she were petting a cat. She had a satisfied smile on her face, and she was waiting for the anchor to confirm what she already knew.

The roses had been a nice touch, she thought. It had been a last minute decision, a whim almost, not part of the original plan. The florist had been slightly startled by the request, but apparently had had the order before because he told her that they had access to the flowers, and that the delivery would be made that day. If he had been startled by the order, he was definitely shocked when he heard where he was supposed to deliver them.

"A hospital! Are you sure you want me to send them there?" he had asked her, and she nodded. He would have refused the order at that point, but the look in her eye and the money on the counter convinced him otherwise. She handed him the card to be inserted into the bouquet, already written out and sealed up. He took it, shrugged and clipped it to the order sheet. If she wanted to send black roses to a sick friend in the hospital, it didn't really concern him. It wasn't his business to know why flowers were sent to others, just to make sure they got there.

The picture of the Backstreet Boys and the news anchor's voice got her attention, and she focused on the report on the television. She turned the volume up slightly, and was rewarded with hearing Kevin's name.

"Also in local news tonight, tragedy strikes one of Lexington's own. Yesterday, Kevin Richardson, of the super pop group the Backstreet Boys, was married in a simple ceremony held here in Lexington. He and his new bride spent the night at the Hyatt Regency. As they were leaving the hotel early this morning for their honeymoon, they were greeted by fans and other well-wishers. That's when an unidentified woman opened fire on the couple, shooting Jamie Saxon Richardson in the chest. She was rushed to St. Joseph's Hospital, where doctors operated for six hours. In a statement released by the hospital, Mrs. Richardson is listed in critical condition in the ICU unit. But doctors say they expect her to make a full recovery. Mr. Richardson was uninjured in the shooting. Because of the amount already received by the hospital for the Richardsons, anyone wishing to send cards and flowers have been asked instead to make a charitable contribution. . ."

Her hand froze on the lump beside her. Alive? Full recovery? The bitch was still alive and married to her Kevin? This wasn't possible, it just wasn't. She had aimed very carefully, she knew she had made a heart shot; there was no way that bitch could have survived. She should have died instantly. It just wasn't possible for her to still be among the living.

She was still fuming over this development when the anchor's voice again filtered into her consciousness. "At this time, the shooter is still unidentified and remains at large. Witnesses at the scene have given police a preliminary description, and this composite has been made." An artist's sketch appeared on the screen, and anyone sitting next to her would have recognized the sketch as roughly resembling her. "The suspect is a white female, in her late twenties, early thirties, about five foot five in height, 150 pounds, brown hair, dark eyes. She was wearing a brown coat, jeans and sneakers at the time of the shooting. Anyone seeing this suspect or having any information that could lead to an arrest should immediately contact the Lexington Police Department at 555-7171."

She shut the television off abruptly, sitting in the now silent room. She needed to think, this wasn't going the way she had planned. That bitch was supposed to be dead, and she and Kevin were supposed to be together, forever.

She had even pictured the scene when she and Kevin would be reunited. He would have been grateful to her for getting rid of the tramp. He didn't need or want Jamie in his life, he had merely been marking time until she returned to him. He would have recognized that the marriage had been a mistake, but it hadn't even been his idea, and he hadn't found a way to get out of it. Kevin would have arranged everything afterwards because he wanted to start their life together as soon as possible with no hindrances, no reminders of the time they had been apart.

But now, that wasn't going to happen. She had to come up with a new plan, another way to remove the thorn in her side. How to get rid of the bitch in ICU?ICU. . . wait, that was it! Simple, so very simple. She laughed, and stood up. Addressing the brown mass still on the couch, she said, "This will work, believe me. Kevin and I will be together soon. But unfortunately, I have no more use for you, you've been plastered everywhere. You have served me well, but here is where we part company." She picked it up, clutching it tightly in her fist, and walked over to the trash can. Opening the lid, she dropped the brown mass inside.

"Brunettes are boring anyways. Let's just see how much fun this blonde can have," she smirked, staring at the newly disposed brown wig before closing the lid and walking away.

Kevin sat in a chair next to Jamie's bed, watching her. He had convinced the doctors to let him stay in the unit with her, that Jamie would respond better if she knew he was there with her. He held her hand tightly in one of his own, his other hand tangled loosely in her hair. Jamie loved it when he played with her hair, and Kevin loved the feel of the auburn strands in his hands, on his body.

There had been several nights during the trial when he had been unable to sleep. Night had been the time and place for Kevin to confront his fears and doubts, when no one else would know about them. The only comfort he had then was to touch Jamie, to stroke her hair as she lay sleeping next to him, curled into his side. She had sighed and snuggled closer, but never had awakened. Kevin had spent hours touching her like that, and would often finally fall asleep with his hand still tangled in her hair.

The habit had given him comfort then, and it comforted him now. Jamie was still here with him, and she was fighting. He couldn't see any evidence of the struggle, but he just knew she was. Kevin's eyes swept over her, looking for any sign that she was close to regaining consciousness. Every once in a while, he spoke to her softly, saying her name, telling her how much he loved her, and how she needed to wake up soon. Jamie's condition remained unchanged, but Kevin repeated his message to her throughout the night.

Finally, just before dawn, the day's events and his own exhaustion caught up with him. Kevin fell asleep next to Jamie. He was still sitting in the chair, his head resting on the mattress near hers, his hand caught up in her hair.

Jamie hadn't regained consciousness late the next morning when Brian peeked into the unit and saw Kevin keeping watch over her. He tapped softly on the glass, then walked into the room.

"How is she?" he asked softly. Kevin raised his head towards his cousin, and replied, "The same, I guess. Still hasn't come out of it yet." He regarded Brian silently for a moment longer, then turned back to Jamie.

"Kevin, I'm sorry for. . ." Brian began hesitantly.

"It's all right, Brian. I know," said Kevin quietly. "Yesterday was difficult for everyone. I'm sorry too."

Brian nodded, although Kevin wasn't facing him. "The doctor came into the waiting room this morning and talked to your folks. He said that she's doing well considering, and that she could possibly have more visitors later on this afternoon. He didn't seem too worried she wasn't awake yet, he said there had been a lot of damage, so she needs this time to heal."

"I know, he said that to me as well. But I still want her to get up, you know?"

Brian walked over to the bedside, and clapped a hand on Kevin's shoulder. "Yeah, I know. Hey, I'm not supposed to stay in here for very long. The doctor only let me up here so I could find out if you were planning on coming down at all today, maybe have breakfast or whatever with the rest of us." But he looked around quickly, then leaned down, kissed Jamie lightly and said, "Hey cuz, you need to wake up now." Brian stood back up and looked at Kevin expectantly. "So, food?"

He sighed. "Yeah, I'll come down. I'm kind of hungry, now that you mention it. You think she'll be okay if I leave for a little while?" He looked back at Jamie as if to ask her if he could go.

Brian chuckled slightly, "I'm pretty sure she'll understand. Anyway, I told the nurses where we would be, so if Jaim wakes up, they'll come find us."

As they walked out of the room, Brian grinned. "So, two days of marriage and she's already got you whipped?"

Kevin shot a glance at Brian, "To quote one of Jamie's favorite phrases, 'Hello, pot? This is kettle.' You shouldn't talk." Brian laughed, and Kevin broke into a grin himself. "Guilty as charged, but I make no apologies for it though. Leigh has always been able to get whatever she wanted from me, married or not."

"If you're expecting me to argue with you about that, you're going to be disappointed, Brian."

"I'm not disappointed. I'm just glad to see you are in a better mood."

"I'm not really, but just being able to stay with her last night eased my mind. But there's still a lot worrying me, and I won't really be alright until they find the person who did this to us," sighed Kevin.

"I know. The police are working on it, Kev. And they had the police sketch up on the news last night. It's just a matter of time now," said Brian. By this time, the two of them had entered the waiting room. The others were slightly surprised to see Kevin acting more normally, but very thankful for it. They had been just as worried about him as they were for Jamie. He seemed better, but they did notice the wrinkled clothes and the dark shadows under his eyes.

Following his mom's suggestion, Kevin changed into the fresh clothes she had brought with her, and then joined his bandmates in the cafeteria. They had just finished eating when Detective Logan came in and walked over to their table.

Kevin rose quickly from his seat, "Did you find her? The person who shot Jaim, did you arrest her?"

Logan held up a hand, "I'm sorry, Mr. Richardson, no we haven't yet. I just came here to see if your wife was awake yet and could speak to me." Kevin shook his head sadly.

"Oh, I see. Well, I don't suppose you remember anything else about yesterday?" the detective asked.

Kevin shook his head again, "No, nothing else." The detective thanked him, and started to leave when Kevin stopped him. "Wait, what about those flowers? Who sent them? Do you know anything about them?"

"Yes and no. We traced them back to the florist shop they came from, but the clerk couldn't tell us anything that we didn't already know. He gave the same physical description of the woman that we had from talking to people at the hotel. She paid for them in cash, so no name was given except your wife's. There aren't any other records," said Logan, consulting his notebook. "The clerk also said the card was already written and sealed when she handed it to him. Normally that would have been a lead for us except, as you know, the card was printed on a computer. There weren't any fingerprints on the card or envelope that would give us an indication of who she is. Several people had already touched it by the time we got it, including all of you. So really the only thing we know for sure is that the woman who sent them is the same woman who is the shooter."

"Oh," was all Kevin could say, clearly disappointed. He sat back down and rested his chin on the heel of his hand. Logan said, "We really weren't expecting anything different than that, Mr. Richardson. I'm afraid to say that whoever did this has made a serious effort to cover up her tracks. She obviously planned every move she made. That makes it much more difficult for us. We're not going to solve this today if you thought we would."

"No, I didn't think that, but I guess I was hoping for some kind of clue as to who this woman is and why she did this," said Kevin softly.

"I'm sorry I don't have more for you. This woman could literally be anyone."

Kevin looked up, puzzled by that last statement, "What do you mean 'anyone'?"

"Without some idea as to why this happened, I mean the shooter could be anyone at all. The woman could be an obsessed fan of yours, or the girl whose braids you used to pull on in kindergarten. It could be someone who your wife cut off in traffic one day, or an angry ex-client. It's even possible that the woman doesn't know who either of you are, but acted completely randomly in terms of who the victim was going to be. At this point, we can't narrow our search enough to even get a list of suspects. You can see why it's difficult for us," explained Logan.

"You're kidding? You honestly have no idea who the nut is?" asked AJ. Logan looked down at the others seated at the table, and shook his head. AJ frowned, Brian chewed on his fingernails, Howie appeared to be mulling everything over, and Nick just stared at the detective wide-eyed. Kevin was still leaning on his hand, thinking about what Logan was saying.

After a moment of silence, Kevin asked, "Well, what about that note in the flowers, where she said I'd forget about Jamie and that she was waiting for me. Wouldn't that mean something?"

"It's most likely that the shooter is a stalker, but it's not definite. That language could mean several different things, including that she's looking to shoot you as well. Trust me, I am just as frustrated as you are. I would like to be able to tell you that we know who this is, and we are in the process of arresting her, but I can't." Logan shrugged, but Kevin and the others could see that this was clearly bothering the detective.

"That makes two of us, Detective." Logan nodded and turned to walk away from the group when a nurse came over to the table and spoke to Kevin.

"Mr. Richardson? Your wife is awake."