Dan continued walking his normal beat around the Upper East Side of Manhattan, just as he had every day for the past year. His partner, Padraig O'Seanan1, walked at his side, whistling a jaunty tune.

"How can you be so cheerful?" Dan growled.

Paddy grinned. "Ah, Danny, me boyo, you need to learn to relax. Take what life gives you, and stop pushing so hard." His Irish brogue, as normal, was very thick.

Dan scowled. "We've been walking this beat for a year! They won't let me transfer to another neighborhood. They won't let me work on any important cases. It's frustrating."

"Ah, patience, Danny Boy, patience! All things happen in good time." Paddy slapped Dan's shoulder. "The captain knows you're a good man. He'll give you your transfer, and probably a promotion, soon enough."

Dan nodded, grudgingly accepting what his friend said.

Dan had met Paddy at the Police Academy. Fresh from graduating with a bachelors' degree in Criminal Justice with a minor in Psychology, Dan had signed on with the New York City Police Department and was promptly sent to the Academy for six months. He soon found that he could excel at everything, and had only one real competitor for the top spot - Padraig O'Seanan.

The two young men couldn't have been more different. Dan Mangan had lived in New York City until he was 15. An orphan, he had joined a gang and had gotten in trouble before being sent to live with his uncle in a small town north of White Plains. His heritage was Black Irish - dark skin, dark hair and goatee, almost black eyes, and a wiry build. Dan had spent years chopping wood and doing hard, physical work, which had filled out his 5'10" frame with hard muscle.

Padraig - Paddy - had grown up in Boston, surrounded by his family. His parents had come to America as teenagers with their parents, brothers and sisters. They had all become naturalized citizens when Paddy was young. The entire O'Seanan family still lived within a few blocks of each other, including Paddy's seven brothers and sisters. Paddy clearly showed his branch of Irish heritage. He stood 6'4" in his socks, with very broad shoulders and a large frame packed with lazy muscle. His hair was a coppery shade of red, his eyes were a bright, pale blue, and his fair skin was covered with a liberal dusting of freckles.

The competition between Dan and Paddy at the Academy had grown into a warm friendship. When they had graduated, each had been assigned a more experienced partner, but after three months they had been given new partners - each other. They had spent the rest of the year since then patrolling this upscale area of Manhattan, even though Dan had continually asked to be transferred to Hell's Kitchen - to the neighborhood of the gangs of which Dan had been a part.

Dan and Paddy returned to the station after lunch to take care of some paperwork they had waiting. They had just walked into the office when another officer came looking for Dan.

"Hey, Mangan!" he called. "Cap'n wants to see you - right now!"

"I wonder what I've done now?" Dan clapped Paddy on the back. "You won't have any trouble doing the paperwork by yourself, will you, Paddy?"

Paddy grinned at him. "I'm sure I'll muddle through." He turned to his desk, then paused, looking at Dan through the corner of his eye. "Hey, Danny boy - when're you coming to dinner again? My sister's been asking about you."

Dan grinned devilishly back at him. "Which one? You know I think they're all hot."

"Ah, me boy-o, that's a secret you'll have to come to dinner to learn," Paddy tried to look mysterious, which his open, honest face didn't carry off at all.

Dan laughed. "A see-crud, huh?" Paddy looked confused. "The kid brother of some of my best friends used to call it that," Dan explained. "We all started to use his word, as a joke at first. But it stuck!"

Waving farewell, Dan quickly walked out on his way to the captain's office.

Dan knocked on the frame of Captain Szmanski's open office door. The captain, a heavyset man in his 50s with an iron grey crewcut and a thick grey mustache, looked up from the paperwork on his desk.

"Mangan. Come on in - and close the door behind you," Szmanski growled.

Dan did as he was told, and took a seat in the chair that the captain pointed to. He sat quietly, waiting for Szmanski to begin. Szmanski merely studied Dan without speaking. After a couple of minutes, Dan fidgeted nervously.

"Uh, Cap'n?" Dan said. "Did I do something?"

The corner of Szmanski's mouth quirked up slightly, making his mustache twitch. "I don't know, Mangan, did you?" Before Dan could answer, Szmanski leaned back in his chair, waving his hand to dismiss the question. "Don't answer that, I don't want to know. I have something else to discuss with you anyway." Szmanski quirked his mouth, and mustache, in a half smile again. "Relax, Mangan. I didn't call you here to ream you out. It seems like you're actually going to get your wish."

Dan sat up even straighter at that. "I'm being moved over to Hell's Kitchen?" he asked excitedly.

The captain nodded. "There are conditions, however," he cautioned. "First off, you're going to be working under the command of Detective Hitt and Lieutenant Choi. You will follow their orders as if they were mine - no, better than you follow mine." Szmanski glared at Dan to emphasize his words. Dan nodded his understanding. "Secondly, this is only probationary. We'll see how this assignment works out, then maybe," he glared again, "maybe we'll consider something more permanent."

"Yes, sir, thank you, sir," Dan breathed.

Captain Szmanski continued to glare for a moment, then sighed and relaxed back in his chair. "Get out of here, Mangan. Hitt and Choi are waiting for you in the briefing room."

Dan practically jumped from his chair. "Yes, sir!"

Dan had his hand on the doorknob when Szmanski barked, "One more thing, Mangan!" He waited for Dan to turn around, then gave a smile that quirked up both corners of his mouth. "For the duration of this assignment, you'll be bumped one pay grade."

Dan couldn't believe his ears. "Thank you, sir!" he said breathlessly.

Szmanski pointedly returned to his paperwork and Dan quietly left his office.

Dan stopped outside the door to the briefing room, to take a deep breath. He felt nervous and excited and uncertain all at once and he knew that he needed to get himself under control. Once he felt he had his face schooled to a professional blank, he opened the door and walked in.

Dan had never met Detective Hitt or Lieutenant Choi, but he was fairly certain which was which. Lieutenant Choi was a whipcord thin Asian man, with shoulder length hair and a Foo Manchu mustache. Detective Hitt was an average size man with pale skin, pale nondescript eyes and nondescript brown hair. The only thing about him that stood out was the perfect whiteness and evenness of his teeth. Both were wearing old jeans and T-shirts with well-worn leather jackets. Dan suddenly felt overdressed in his uniform.

Dan closed the briefing room door behind him and walked over to the two men, extending his hand. "Detective Hitt? Lt. Choi? I'm Officer Mangan."

The men each shook Dan's hand, studying him closely. Then Lt. Choi waved at one of the chairs.

"Have a seat, Mangan," he said. "Did Captain Szmanski tell you about this assignment?"

Dan seated himself and shook his head. "No, sir. All he said was that I'd be under your command."

"You were in a gang once, weren't you, Mangan?" Hitt asked.

"Yes, sir," Dan nodded. "When I was 14, I joined The Cowhands."

Choi snorted and exchanged an amused glance with Hitt. "The Cowhands? What a bunch of losers."

Dan stiffened, but kept his mouth shut.

"I mean, really. They can't even pull off a decent robbery without getting caught," Choi continued, his voice snide. "They go around, selling drugs to children because they can't get anyone else to buy from them."

Dan could feel his temper rising, but he did his best to push it back down.

"Yeah, and they don't even have the dignity of having their own territory - instead, they 'croach on The Aztec's turf," Hitt chimed in derisively. "The Cowhands lost the only real rumble they ever got in to - and they were only fighting with skin!"

Both Choi and Hitt were laughing outright now.

"Someone called the cops on us," Dan growled, keeping his voice low in an effort to stay in control.

"Yeah, whatever," Choi jeered. "Bunch of pansies and losers, if you ask me."

"I didn't ask you!" Dan said, his voice shaking with the effort not to yell.

Hitt leaned over Dan, getting right in his face. "The Cowhands, and anyone who ever joined them, are worthless punks," he hissed. "Always have been and always will be."

Dan exploded from his chair, drawing his fist back to punch Hitt. Hitt backed away rapidly, his hands up in surrender, a grin on his face. Choi matched him, putting his hands up as well. Dan hesitated, breathing hard, his fist ready.

"Easy, Mangan," Choi said. "Sorry about that, but we had to see what it would take to set you off."

"Yeah, sorry," Hitt said. "We were just trying to push your buttons. I guess we succeeded."

Dan dropped his hand to his side. "Why?" he asked, still breathing hard from a mixture of anger, confusion and adrenaline.

Choi and Hitt dropped their hands as soon as they saw that Dan was not going to punch them. Choi gestured for them all to sit, and the three of them moved chairs to face one another.

"I'm sorry, Dan," Choi said again. "Truce?"

Dan shrugged. "Truce - if you tell me why."

Choi laughed and Hitt grinned. Hitt nodded. "He'll do," he said to Choi.

"I think he will," Choi replied. Turning back to Dan, Choi said, "Okay. We knew of your history - obviously. And we have a job that we think you'll be perfect for. But we needed to see what kind of self-control you have." He grinned. "Pretty good control, I'd say. Most gang-bangers would've tried for our heads after our first comments."

Dan allowed himself a small smile. All those years with his uncle and with Mr. Maypenny, learning to deal with his anger, and to control it, seemed to have paid off.

"Let's start over, okay?" Choi stuck his hand out to Dan. "I'm Yoon."

Dan shook his hand. Hitt stuck his hand out as well. "I'm John," he said. Dan shook his hand again.

"We want you to go undercover," Choi told Dan. "Deep cover. We're going to set you up with a whole new identity. You will have no contact with anyone outside that cover." He pointed his thumb at himself and Hitt. "We already have established street identities, so you'll have no problem talking to us."

"You do have clothing more appropriate for the street, don't you?" Hitt asked, eyeing Dan's uniform.

Dan laughed. "Yes."

"What about your old Cowhands jacket?" Choi wondered.

Dan shook his head. "No. I out grew that years ago." He flexed his muscles to show exactly how he'd grown. Choi and Hitt grinned. "But I do have another black leather jacket," Dan finished.

Choi and Hitt nodded appreciatively. The three of them spent the next two hours going over the details of Dan's assignment and his new identity.

The new identity really wasn't all that new. He would still be Dan Mangan, former member of The Cowhands. However, instead of having lived in Sleepyside with his uncle, he had been sent to a penitentiary/boy's school. After being released at the age of 18, he had gone traveling, hitch-hiking his way across country, all the way to Los Angeles. He was now back in New York, and ready to carve a place for himself on the streets. He would no longer identify himself as a cop, and Choi and Hitt emphasized that he must not carry his badge, or have it anywhere it could be accidentally found. Also, instead of his standard service issue pistol, they gave him a 'Special' - a wicked looking gun that was currently all the rage with the gangs.

Dan asked, "What about Luke Hanrahan? Does anyone here know what he was up to? Do they know that I'm the cause of his death?"

"Don't worry about it," Hitt said. "We'll just tailor the story. He was hassling you, you warned him to leave you alone. When he didn't, you shot him."

Dan nodded, unhappy. He really didn't want to claim to have killed anyone, but he realized that it would look good with the gangs.

Once all the details of Dan's cover had been gone over, Dan said, "Okay, now I just have one question. What am I supposed to be investigating? I assume there's something, or someone, that you want me to help you get the goods on."

"Yeah." Choi took a deep breath. "The gangs have been gaining in strength lately. There's been more violent incidents, more deaths and there're more drugs. It's like there's been a whole attitude change - for the worse. We think there's a new player in town, someone who's come in to run things."

"Problem is," Hitt took over, "we can't seem to get a line on him. Our cover identities just aren't in tight enough with the gangs. We're seen as being friendly to them, but not part of them. That's where you come in."

"We need you to become a part of the gangs," Choi resumed. "Get deep in the structure and find out who's pulling the strings."

When they had concluded covering as many details as any of the three of them could think of, they all stood and headed out. As they walked out of the briefing room, Choi asked Dan, "You going to be ready to start in the morning?"

Dan nodded firmly. "I'll be ready."

"Good." Choi slapped him on the back.

Dan nodded and headed down to the locker room to change into his civvies before heading home. He found Paddy there, just about to leave.

"Danny, me boyo!" Paddy greeted him cheerfully. "The captain really must've had it in for you, as long as you were gone!"

Dan grinned. "Boy, did he!" He sobered then. "Listen, Paddy, I've been given a new assignment - Szmanski will probably give you a new partner tomorrow."

Paddy shook his head. "Nope."

"Nope?"

"Nope," Paddy grinned. "He gave me a new partner this afternoon."

Dan chuckled. "Well, I hope it's someone good."

Paddy shrugged. "So, what's your new assignment, Danny?"

Dan shook his head regretfully. "I can't tell you that, Paddy. Sorry." Dan hesitated. "Look, I'm going to be real busy with this case for a while. I won't be able to have dinner with you or your family. I'm sorry."

"Ah, no need to worry," Paddy said with a firm nod. "You can just come over to dinner tonight."

"Tonight! But won't your mother be upset with an unexpected guest?"

"Danny, have you never seen the way me mother cooks? When has she ever objected to another person showing up? I'm not even sure she'd notice!"

Dan laughed. "You're probably right. Okay, you're on. I'll be there after I go home and clean up."

"Seven o'clock, my friend, and not a minute later!" Paddy called on his way out.

Dan arrived at the O'Seanan home at five minutes before seven, a bottle of wine in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. Paddy answered his knock at the door, and Dan stepped into a bright, warm atmosphere of controlled chaos.

Dan followed Paddy into the large kitchen where Mrs. O'Seanan and Paddy's three sisters were getting dinner ready.

Dan presented the flowers to Paddy's mothers. "Mrs. O'Seanan, flowers for you and your daughters, though they pale beside your beauty," he said.

"Oh, you charmer, you!" Mrs. O'Seanan said, raising her cheek for Dan to drop a kiss on it. "Thank you, lad. It's always a pleasure when you come to visit."

Colleen, Maeve and Chloe giggled to each other. Colleen, Paddy's older sister at 26, was a striking red-haired woman. Maeve had soft blond hair and a cute little button nose. She was a recent college graduate - and newly engaged. Chloe, the youngest of the girls at 18, had shining auburn hair and merry blue eyes. All of them gathered around Dan to give, and get, hugs in greeting.

Paddy extricated Dan from his sisters and led him into the living room. Dan immediately walked to the older man seated in a wheel-chair. "Mr. O'Seanan," he said, with a hearty handshake. "It is always an honor, and a pleasure, to be invited into your home." Dan handed the bottle of wine to him. "I thought perhaps a wee drop of the grape with dinner would be appreciated." Dan chuckled to himself - it was amazing how the Irish turn of phrase crept into his speech when he was around the O'Seanan family!

"Thank you, lad," Mr. O'Seanan said. "A wee drop of the grape is always to be appreciated."

Dan then turned to the other men, Paddy's brothers, to exchange greetings with them. Michael, the oldest at 28, was as blonde as Maeve and as tall as Paddy. Sean and Liam, the 20 year old twins, were as red as Paddy and only a little shorter. Galvin, the 16 year old 'baby' of the family, had burnished auburn hair. The entire family had skin that was very fair and covered with freckles.

Once Dan had greeted everyone, and they turned back to their conversations, Dan drew Paddy aside. "Okay, which of your sisters was asking about me?"

Paddy grinned. "You really want me to give up my secret?"

Dan gave him a mock-glare. "Yes. I'm assuming it isn't Maeve, but it could be either Colleen or Chloe."

Paddy laughed. "As a matter of fact, it was Maeve - but I think she was asking with an eye toward fixing you up with one of the other girls."

Dan growled playfully, "She's trying to fix us up? What, now that she's engaged no bachelor is safe?"

"That's about it," Paddy grinned at his friend.

"I don't see her fixing you up," Dan reposted.

Michael, who was standing nearby chatting with Sean, chuckled and turned. "That's because she's too busy trying to get me settled!" he told Dan. All of the men laughed - Michael's reputation as a ladies' man was well known.

Mrs. O'Seanan stepped in the doorway. "If you're wantin' to eat, you'd best come now!" She turned and led the way into the dining room.

Somehow, as everyone found a place at the long table, Dan ended up sitting between Colleen and Chloe. He really wasn't sure how that had happened, but since they were both very attractive he didn't mind much. A hush fell over the crowd as they all joined hands and Mr. O'Seanan said a brief grace. Somewhere in the background, Dan could hear the stereo playing softly - Anne Murray, he thought, asking to have this dance for the rest of her life. Then the conversation and laughter began again as dishes were passed from hand to hand.

Dan always enjoyed spending time with Paddy's family. They had welcomed him with open arms the first time Paddy had brought him home from the Police Academy. It made him feel like part of another family, even while making him lonely for the Belden family that had made him feel so welcome in his teens. The Beldens and O'Seanans had a lot in common - a long family history, large families and homes with 'stretchy' walls big enough to accommodate all the friends who became part of the extended family.

By the time the pecan pie and whipped cream were being passed around for dessert, it had become more than obvious that Maeve was indeed trying to fix Dan up with one of her sisters. At first, Dan had been a little uncomfortable with her maneuvering, but Colleen and Chloe had soon put him at ease. They both flirted shamelessly, while teasing Maeve and generally letting it be known that it was all in good fun. Dan liked both girls, and enjoyed flirting back, but he really didn't see anything serious happening with either of them.

After dinner, Dan volunteered to help the girls with the dishes. The conversation over the sink full of bubbles worked its way through many topics and wound its way to the merits of various movies they had seen. Everyone seemed to agree that "King Kong" was a classic worthy of being seen again and again.

Chloe decided that she should have played Fay Wray's part, and threw herself into Dan's arms crying, "Take me away, Kong baby!"

Dan caught Chloe by reflex, but then almost dropped her he was laughing so hard. She put her arms around his neck, and laughed along with him as he put her feet back on the floor. Suddenly, Dan's laughter died as he realized that Chloe was a warm, lively bundle that he very much liked holding.

Stop that, Mangan! He told himself firmly. She's a friend, that's all. You've just been alone too long. He recognized the truth, but that didn't stop him from enjoying Chloe's curvaceous body being held close to his.

That night, before going to bed, Dan called his Uncle Bill.

When Dan was a teenager, he'd gotten in trouble following his mother's death. His father, a New York City cop, had been killed several years earlier. His mother had died following a prolonged illness and Dan had joined a gang. It was only after he'd been arrested that he'd learned of the existence of his mother's brother - Bill Regan. Uncle Bill had taken him in and, with the help of Mr. Maypenny, taught him how to be a good man. In the process, they had built a true family bond, with love and respect for one another. Since leaving Sleepyside, Dan had made a habit of calling his uncle for at least a short talk every week.

"Hello?" a deep voice said on the other end of the line.

"Hey, Uncle Bill," Dan said.

"Dan!" Dan could almost see the tall, husky red head smile. "It's kinda late - what's wrong?" Dan knew those grass-green eyes would be creased with concern.

"Nothing's wrong, Uncle Bill," Dan hastened to reassure him. "In fact, just the opposite. I've finally gotten a new assignment."

"That's wonderful, Danny!" Uncle Bill's voice was warm and enthusiastic.

"There's just one problem," Dan continued. "I'm going under cover - I won't be able to call you until this is over. Weeks, at least. Possibly a couple of months."

"Oh. Well. I'm going to miss our chats." Dan could tell that Uncle Bill was trying not to sound worried.

Dan did his best to reassure Uncle Bill, and promised to call when he could. He then asked for, and got, updates on the happenings in Sleepyside, and on his friends.

When they were ready to hang up, Dan said, "Say hi to Mr. Maypenny for me, Uncle Bill, and give him my love. Give Aunt Joan a hug and kiss for me, and make sure you get them back."

"Will do. You take care of yourself," Uncle Bill replied. "We love you too."

The next morning, Dan dressed in his jeans, cowboy boots, a tight black T-shirt and his black leather jacket. He even dug out the old peaked black cap with a patent-leather band that he had worn when he was with the gangs and settled it on top of his hair, glad that with his new assignment he could let his hair grow out. It was currently rather shaggy, and he'd been thinking he'd need to cut it soon to avoid getting in trouble with the captain. He grinned at himself in the mirror as he smoothed his neatly trimmed mustache and goatee. The captain had finally given up giving Dan a hard time about the beard.

Dan doubled checked his pockets, to be sure he didn't have anything on him that would identify him as a police officer. Then he checked his apartment, making sure everything was turned off and the refrigerator empty. He'd be staying in a hotel room in Hell's Kitchen while he established his identity, and wouldn't be returning to this apartment for a while. He felt a bit of panic when he couldn't locate the paper he had made notes on regarding his 'past'. He had memorized the information, and wanted to dispose of it, to be sure no one would find it. Finally, he decided it wasn't that important - no one would know to look in this apartment for information about him anyway. He grabbed his duffle bag and headed out.

Dan stopped by the apartment manager's office briefly. He wanted to let the manager know that he wouldn't be around for a while, and to ask the manager to look after the apartment for him. Dan knew that the manager was a retired cop, one who had been very well respected within the department, so he knew he need have no worries about his things while he was gone. Dan also used up a very large portion of his savings to pay ahead for the next couple months rent - just in case.

Then he went to the parking garage below the building. There he found his motorcycle waiting with a barely restrained eagerness. Dan grinned, strapped his duffel bag in place on the back, then gunned the engine, and roared out into the city.

Making contact with the gangs in Hell's Kitchen was easy. The old, run-down building that Dan had lived in after his mother's death was still there, and still used as a gang hangout. There were one or two people still around that Dan recognized, and that remembered him. The hardest part, for him, of establishing his identity was claiming credit for the death of Luke Hanrahan. He had a very hard time even pretending to be a cold-blooded killer, but everyone he told the story to seemed to have no trouble believing it. It did give his new identity a solid foundation.

The neighborhood had changed only a little since Dan had lived there - mostly for the worse. Many of the older buildings had fallen into disrepair with shattered glass from the windows littering the floors of empty rooms.

One thing that surprised him, though, was the vacant lot near the old hangout. That lot had been nothing but hard-packed dirt and garbage, and had more than once been the site of gang rumbles. Now, it had been cleaned up and turned into a park. Dan couldn't get over walking past the area on one of his first nights back in the neighborhood, and seeing a young couple having sex in the park.

Renewing his contact with the gangs was easy for Dan, but getting them to trust him took time. He settled in to a room in a run down hotel and began to work with the gangs, slowly working his way in, supplying them with money and jobs, arranging robberies - all as orchestrated by Choi and Hitt. Slowly, Dan worked his way into position to take charge of some of the groups.

Dan found it all too easy to slip into the mind set and attitudes of the gang. The old blank expression felt at home on his face. The swagger in his walk, the sneer in his voice - it all came back. Deep inside, Dan hated the feeling, but he was able to use that hatred in his new persona.

Strolling down the street, his attitude clearly one of cool, uncaring confidence, Dan noticed old women and mothers with small children glaring at him, and crossing the street to avoid him. Preteen boys gazed at him with admiration, while teenage boys tried to emulate him. Teenage girls tried to catch his eye and flirt with him. It was a heady feeling for Dan, knowing that he had so much influence on those around him. He prayed that he would only ever use that power for good.

One boy in particular bothered Dan. Ryan was only 10 years old, and small for his age. His mother had been a prostitute. After his birth, she'd gotten into a downhill spiral of drugs and poverty. She had started beating Ryan when she couldn't get her fix. She'd died just a few months earlier, of an overdose. No one knew who his father was. Ryan had started hanging out with the gangs as a way to get away from his mother, and now that she was gone, he lived on the streets. So far, he had avoided the drugs and alcohol, but Dan knew that couldn't last long. Dan needed to find a way to get him off the streets and into a good home - some way that wouldn't blow his cover. Dan did his best to watch out for the boy until something else could be done.

Dan had been undercover for over a month, and had gotten himself well established as an experienced criminal and gang member. He was living on the proceeds of the crimes he planned, and had several of the gang members following him. He checked in with Choi and Hitt regularly, but the investigation hadn't progressed at all, much to their frustration. Continued indication of a 'man'with a controlling interest in several of the gangs' activities was as far as they'd gotten.

Finally, one night, Dan met with some of the gang members to go over their next job. Walking back to his room after the meeting, he tensed as he walked past the entrance to an alley - someone was hanging out there. Before he could do anything though, he was suddenly surrounded by six young men wearing leather jackets with the words 'The Aztecs' emblazoned on the back. They were older than the average gang members, but still young enough not to have known Dan in his gang days. And they carried switchblades. Dan's stomach twitched in memory of having such a blade thrust into it. Dan pushed that memory, and the sudden rush of adrenaline, aside.

"Hey guys," he said. "Wassup?"

The oldest, and toughest looking, of the group bared his teeth in a feral smile. "Wassup depends on you. You're wanted."

Dan looked at him coolly. "Really. By who?"

"By The Man."

Dan shrugged in feigned nonchalance. Underneath his controlled exterior, his heart had started racing. "Lead the way," he invited.

The same tough smiled again as a black stretch limo pulled up near them. "Right over there - The Man likes to meet new people in his traveling office."

Dan swaggered over to the limo. A broad shouldered man wearing a suit that did little to conceal the gun in the harness under his arm got out of the front and opened a door for Dan. Taking an unobtrusive breath, Dan slid into the car. The door was shut behind him.

Facing Dan across the thick pile carpeting in the back of the limo sat a man in an expensive suit. His face was smooth and bland beneath perfectly styled blonde hair. Everything about the man, right down to the manicured fingernails and Italian leather shoes, screamed money. Dan had spent enough time around the Wheelers - one of the wealthiest families in the state of New York, and in the top ten wealthiest of the country - to be able to spot designer labels without having to see them.

The man studied Dan carefully over the rim of his champagne glass. Dan met his gaze aggressively. The man smiled and gave a small nod of approval.

"So, Mr. Mangan," the man said in a smooth, cultured voice. "I understand you've gained quite a bit of influence in this part of town."

Dan shrugged. "So? What's it to you?"

"I have several - shall we say business - interests here," the man said. "I'd hate to see anything interfere with them."

Dan did his best to imitate the feral smile the tough had given him. "This is my part of town, mister. I intend to grow my own 'business' interests here. If you want a part of it, maybe we can talk."

"You're very funny, Mr. Mangan," the man said seriously. "It would be a shame for anything to happen to change that." The man studied Dan a little more, then nodded. "I think maybe we can work together. I'll be in touch, Mr. Mangan."

The bodyguard opened the car door. Obviously, Dan had been dismissed. He got out of the car, into the midst of the street thugs that had detained him. The leader stuck his head into the car, where the man said a few words to him. When the tough withdrew, the car door was closed and the bodyguard got back in the front. The limo smoothly accelerated away and was soon lost to sight - but not before Dan was able to make note of the license plate.

Dan returned his attention to the six young men around him as the leader cracked his knuckles. His feral smile was firmly in place as he said, "The Man wants us to give you a little lesson. See, he's not sure you realize how serious he is."

Two of the young men grabbed Dan and dragged him into the alley. At first, he tried to fight them off, but he was seriously outnumbered. He decided he'd be better off trying to minimize the damage, so he tried not to fight their hands, or to tense up too much as the others took turns using him as a punching bag. Finally, the blows stopped and the hands released him to sag down on the pavement. The leader grabbed Dan's hair to pull his head up.

Dan looked into his smiling, sadistic eyes. "Next time, you'll know that the Man is completely serious. No hard feelings."

The tough let go of Dan's hair, letting his head fall, and they walked away, laughing and joking. Dan continued to lie there for several minutes, then slowly pushed himself up. He hurt all over, and knew that he'd be bruised and sore for the next few days, but he didn't think any serious damage had been done, aside from a cracked rib or two. He wiped a trickle of blood from his mouth and headed for his motel room.

Dan went to visit Lt. Choi and Detective Hitt the next day at the pawnshop they used for a cover. Choi took one look at Dan's bruised face and started to chuckle.

"So, what does the other guy look like, Dan?" he asked.

Dan tried to smile back, but only managed to groan. "Ha. Ha. Ha."

Choi sobered. "Seriously, dude, are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'll live." Dan said. "The good news is that I got to meet 'The Man' last night."

Immediately, Choi and Hitt's attention was riveted on Dan. "That's great!" Hitt said. "Who is he?"

Dan shrugged, wincing at the pain his movement caused. "I have no idea, didn't recognize him."

Dan proceeded to give them a detailed report on what had happened, the limo and its license plate, and a description of The Man. They took notes and told Dan they would check the license plate and get back to him. They also cautioned him to be sure to inform them immediately of any further messages or contacts with the street toughs or The Man.

Leaving the pawnshop, the wind whipped Dan's face as he took his motorcycle for a ride to collect some information for an upcoming 'job' he was going to send the gang on. He could smell rain and tried to hurry his errands, but he was still on his way back when the storm hit. He got his bike into the garage as fast as he could, but he was soaked anyway. Deciding that it wouldn't matter if he waited until the rain stopped, since he couldn't get much wetter, he walked down the road toward his hotel.

On the side of the street ahead of him, only a few feet from the entrance to his hotel, a car came to a rapid stop as one of it's rear tires blew out with a bang. For several moments, the person in the car sat quietly, not moving. Dan stopped beside a lamppost, watching. Finally, the door opened and an umbrella was pushed out. A woman stepped out of the car, looking cautiously around her.

Dan felt his breath catch in his throat. The woman was short, no more than 5'2". Her raincoat did little to hide her pleasant curves. The rain made the hair around her face curl in wispy tendrils while the rest flowed in shining light brown waves to her waist. Dan couldn't quite make out the color of the eyes that regarded him with suspicion before looking away to study the flat tire. All he knew was that this was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

Forcing himself to act casually, Dan stepped forward, his hands out in a non-threatening manner. "Do you have a spare tire, miss?" he asked as he drew near.

She briefly chewed on one corner of her perfect mouth as she looked doubtfully at Dan. "I think I do," she finally said. "I hope I do anyway - I can be awfully dumb about these things."

Dan smiled, trying to put her at ease. "Why don't you open the trunk and we'll take a look?"

Nodding, she went back to the driver's door to open it and reach inside for the keys. Dan appreciated the view this afforded him of her nicely rounded rear. She glanced up and down the street as she returned, obviously nervous and unsure. When Dan backed off to the side, to put her at ease, she quickly opened the trunk and peered inside. She let out a relieved sigh.

"Thank goodness, there's a spare," she said with a nervous giggle.

Dan moved to get the tools out, and the woman quickly backed away from him. Dan gave her a reassuring smile, saying calmly, "I'm just getting out the tools, ma'am. Didn't mean to startle you." He set the tools next to the car as she watched him.

Taking off his jacket, Dan asked her, "You don't mind if I set this in the trunk while I work, do you?"

She shook her head, giving him a strained smile. "Thank you so much for doing this."

Dan flashed a grin at her. "Think nothing of it - it's my good deed for the week."

Dan got to work changing the tire, all his aches and bruises pushed aside, as the woman nervously stood over him, trying to shelter him with the umbrella. The rain was coming down in almost solid sheets, so the umbrella didn't do much good, but Dan appreciated the sentiment anyway. Finally, the flat tire had been replaced with the spare and Dan put the flat into the trunk. After returning the jack to the trunk as well, Dan retrieved his jacket, which he didn't bother to put on, and closed the trunk.

"Be sure you get that tire fixed right away," Dan said, turning to the woman.

She nodded, a little more at ease. "I will." She hesitated, then put her hand out to him. "I'm really very grateful to you, Mister ..."

"Mangan. Dan Mangan," Dan said, shaking her hand. "I'm always happy to help a damsel in distress," he grinned.

She gave him a small smile, and started to turn away, but Dan held her hand. "You didn't tell me your name," he said.

"Vicki James," she said hesitantly as she firmly pulled her hand away. Again, she chewed on her lower lip for a second. Then she put her hand into her pocket and came out with a card that she offered to Dan. "I don't know how to thank you properly," she said, "but if there's ever anything I can do for you, this is my number."

Moving quickly, Vicki got into the car and drove away. Dan watched until the car was out of sight, holding her card under his jacket to protect it. Then he continued to his hotel. When he got to his room, he looked at the card. It said that Vicki James was a social worker and gave her office number.

The next day, little Ryan came to Dan's room. He'd been sent as a messenger - The Man wanted a meeting that night with all the gangs. Dan found a reason to go back to the pawnshop.

Walking in, Lt. Choi immediately beckoned Dan into the back. Once there, Det. Hitt handed him a sheaf of papers.

"Check it out. The license plate on that limo gave us 'The Man's' identity - and we hit a gold mine," Hitt said.

Dan propped one hip on a table and started to read.

Jonathan Jacob Jones, aka 'The Man,' was very wealthy. Not in the same category as the Wheelers, but with plenty of money to live in comfort. He had started with a small inheritance which he had built up through businesses both legal and criminal. He had been arrested a couple of times, on suspicions of drug dealing and arms trading, but nothing had been proven and he'd walked away free. There had also been rumors of insider trading, prostitution and various dealings on the black market. Up until now, these had remained nothing but rumors and Jones had stayed clear.

A small note in the back of the file, an after thought which obviously meant nothing to Choi or Hitt, caught Dan's attention: Jonathan Jones had a cousin who had once run a truck farm in Albany, a cousin who was known as 'Jonesy.' Dan knew that this Jonesy had lost the chance at a small fortune when he lost custody of his stepson, James Winthrop Frayne II. Jim Frayne happened to be one of Dan's best friends from Sleepyside and the adopted son of the Wheelers.

Dan continued to read Jones' file. Several agencies seemed to be investigating him, from different angles, but so far no one had been able to get anything solid. Dan fervently hoped that his investigation with Choi and Hitt would be the one to bring this man down.

That night, Dan made his way to the abandoned building that had been set for the meeting. A wire leading from a miniature microphone and going to a recorder, and transmitting to a radio being listened to by Detective Hitt and Lt. Choi, was taped under his shirt. Outside and out of sight, a SWAT team and several police units waited.

The building had once been a garage that a trucking company worked out of, and featured large open areas on the ground floor. The main area was crowded on this night and the tension ran high. Representatives of several gangs - all the gangs that were active in Hell's Kitchen - were present. From pre-teen wannabes to older toughs, each gang had sent at least three members and only the promise of profit for all kept the barely leashed violence in check. Dan felt his adrenaline kick in at the thought that most, if not all, of the people there were armed. He rubbed the fine line of a barely visible scar on his face, knowing that switchblades would be the least of the weapons that could come into play tonight.

Dan's blood ran cold as he saw Ryan standing in a corner to one side. He pushed his way through the crowd until he reached Ryan's side.

"Hey, Ryan," he said. "You don't really need to be here tonight, you know."

"Sure I do," Ryan said, his nervousness translated into an attempt at toughness. "I'm part of the gang, aren't I?"

"Sure you are, kid," Dan assured him. "It's just that things could get kinda messy here. You know I'll let you know anything that gets planned here - you won't be left out of the action. So you could just go on back to your hideout."

Ryan shook his head. "No, Dan. I need to be here - to prove to the rest of the gang that I belong."

Dan sighed. He knew the older kids in the gang gave Ryan a hard time. They liked having the small boy around to fit into tight spaces and crawl through windows, but they also used him as a virtual punching bag. It made things very uncomfortable for Ryan, who felt like he didn't really fit in. Dan understood that feeling all too well. He squeezed Ryan's shoulder. "Okay, kid, stick around. Just make sure you crawl through the cracks and get away if this all turns ugly."

Ryan nodded tightly and pushed himself back into a corner. Dan reluctantly left him there as he made his way closer to the front of the big room, closer to a makeshift stage that had been set up.

Midnight found Dan at the edge of the stage, a crowd of gang bangers at his back, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up with tension. A door behind the stage opened and the six toughs that had beaten Dan entered, forming a wedge behind which came Jonathan Jones and his bodyguard. The toughs quickly made their way to the stage, clearing away anyone in the area, and parted at the steps so that Jones could mount to the platform. As he did, Jones grabbed up a microphone that had been laid near the stairs. A loud click could be heard through the speakers as he turned it on.

"Good evening," Jones said into the microphone. Dan studied him as the rest of the crowd quickly quieted.

Jones appeared very calm, and very controlled. He didn't seem to belong in this gathering, where the people in the audience wore jeans and T-shirts and most had leather jackets. Jones, in his several thousand dollar suit, stood in a world apart. And yet, something about him, about his attitude, seemed even more feral than any of those watching him.

"Thank you all for coming," Jones said as the quiet grew. "I haven't had a chance to meet all of you in person, yet, but I have talked with many of you - your leaders most particularly. I've also worked with quite a few of you. I'm glad that we're getting this chance to expand our business dealings."

A low murmur rippled through the crowd.

"If everything goes well," Jones continued, "there will be enough profit for everyone!"

The room erupted in cheers.

Once the room settled down again, Jones said, "Upstairs, our new venture has already begun. Upstairs, the key to our new future awaits the rest of you. The Aztecs have already begun to produce new product." Members of the Aztecs cheered, including the six toughs acting as guards for Jones. "There will be enough for The Cowhands, and for The Kings to share." The remaining gang members cheered. "All the gangs in Hell's Kitchen will participate and we'll raise awareness of this area to new heights!"

Pandemonium reigned for a few moments. Jones, a satisfied grin on his face, let it continue until the noise began to die of its own accord.

"I'll want each and every one of you to see the new refining process. I'll want every one to have a chance to test the new product," Jones said. "So, why don't you all head upstairs, to get the first of the new powder, a gift from me!"

The tide in the sea of gang members shifted, and began to flow to the stairs located in the corners of the building. Before anyone had gone very far, an amplified voice boomed from outside.

"Police! You're surrounded! Everyone drop your weapons and remain where you are!"

The pandemonium that began this time had an ugly sound to it. Dan watched as Jones, encircled by his six toughs, ran for the back door.

"Jones is headed out the back!" Dan said for the benefit of the microphone on his chest. He took his gun from the holster on his belt and ran after Jones and his inner cadre.

Jones, and the six Aztecs with him, ran out the back door, Dan following closely behind. Once out the door, Dan quickly skidded to a stop and ducked back behind the door frame. Outside, Jones and his cadre were crouching within a docking bay, while police officers ducked behind their police cars.

Before Dan could do anything, a voice boomed from a speaker on one of the cars. "Jonathan Jones!" the voice called. "You are under arrest! Please lay down your weapons and come on out!"

Jones spoke softly to the Aztecs near him. They all began to move carefully back to the door. Dan decided it was time to make his presence known.

"Stay where you are, Jones!" Dan called out. "You're being covered from inside the door here, too. Lay down your weapons and go on out, like the man said!"

Jones snarled. "Who is that in there? You're a dead man!"

Jones took another step toward the door. Dan carefully squeezed off a shot, hitting the concrete just in front of Jones' foot.

Slowly, with much snarling and threats, Jones and the Aztecs threw their guns and knives down. The waiting police officers moved in to put handcuffs on each of them and haul them to the waiting bus which would take them to the station.

Dan sat by little Ryan's hospital bedside, waiting for the boy to wake up. In all the confusion surrounding the breaking up of the drug laboratory, the arrest of Jonathan Jones and several gang members, Ryan had been knocked to the ground and trampled. He had suffered some broken ribs and internal injuries, as well as a concussion, but the doctors had operated and said that he would be fine. Dan had placed some phone calls while the surgery was going on, and now waited for the results of those calls as well.

Dan heard light footsteps behind him and turned to see Vicki James standing in the doorway. He stood and walked toward her.

Vicki studied Dan carefully. His thick black hair spilled over the shoulders of his black leather jacket. His goatee appeared shaggy and untrimmed and dark circles emphasized the tiredness in his black eyes. Everything about him told her that he was exhausted. But those eyes and that chin only served to emphasize the determined set of his mouth. Vicki wanted to hold him in her arms and comfort him, while at the same time her breath was knocked away by his pure animal sexuality. A lock of his hair fell over his eyes and her fingers itched to brush it back. She scolded herself severely and struggled to smile at him in a purely professional manner.

"Mr. Mangan - or should I say Officer Mangan?" Vicki said coolly, holding her hand out to him.

A rueful smile curved those determined lips. "Ms. James," he said, taking her hand. "I'm very sorry I couldn't tell you who I was when we met before." He raised her hand and brushed her fingers lightly with a kiss. "I hope you can forgive me."

Vicki's lips parted in a soundless gasp. His breath on her fingers sent a tingle straight through to her core. She swallowed hard and firmly grabbed the remnants of her professional demeanor. She retrieved her hand and turned to the boy in the bed.

"I understand you wish to provide a foster home for this boy, Ryan Leitch."

Dan shook his head. "No. What I really want to do is adopt him."

Vicki cocked a surprised eyebrow at him. "My understanding was that you are single, Officer Mangan? Why would a single man, and a police officer, want to adopt a young boy?"

"Not for any of the ugly reasons you might think, I can assure you," Dan told her. "Ryan needs someone to look after him, and I happen to think I can help him." He turned away and added, very softly so that she had to strain to hear him, "My background is rather similar."

"I've read your history," Vicki told him softly. Dan looked swiftly into her eyes, to see her smiling gently. "I'm inclined to agree that you are just what Ryan needs," she continued. "I'll help you any way that I can."

A lump formed in Dan's throat in response to the understanding in her eyes. "Thank you," he whispered.

Just then, Ryan blinked his eyes open. Dan quickly stepped up to the bed. "Hey, buddy," he said, taking Ryan's hand in his own.

"Dan?" Ryan asked weakly. "What happened? What're you doing here?"

Dan grinned at him. "Well, it seems that you're just not big enough to stand against a tide of people. So we had a little auction, to see who would take you home and make sure you got big and strong, and I won!"

Ryan stared at him, confused. "What does that mean?"

Vicki stepped forward then. "It means, Ryan, that Dan wants to be your new father. He's going to take you home to live with him, until a final decision can be made."

Ryan's eyes flew back to Dan's face. "Really?"

Dan's heart broke at the pathetic pain and hopeless longing in Ryan's eyes. He nodded solemnly. "Really and truly. I'm going to be your Dad, and you'll be my son, and we'll take care of each other. Do you think you could do that?"

"I don't know," Ryan said seriously. "I'm awfully tired of trying to fit into the gangs."

Dan grinned. "That's okay, buddy, I am too. You see, I'm really a cop. I was hanging out with the gangs just to try to catch The Man. So, what d'you say?"

Ryan thought for a moment, seriously studying Dan's face. Then he nodded. "I'd like to try it. I'd like to try to be your son."

Vicki smiled gently at the boy. "Nothing is certain yet - you and Dan will get a chance to try each other out. In a couple of months, the judge will be reviewing your case. Nothing will be permanent until then."

Dan's bright smile took in Ryan and Vicki and warmed them both. "I think we'll be just fine."

Six months later, Dan had tucked Ryan into bed and sat on the sofa in his comfortable apartment, his left arm holding Vicki close while he picked up the phone with his other hand.

A deep voice answered quickly. "Hello?"

"Hey, Uncle Bill," Dan said, smiling into Vicki's hazel-green eyes.

"Danny boy!" Dan could hear the love and affection in his uncle's voice. "So, how's everything? How's Ryan?"

"Ryan's doing great," Dan said. "His teacher is pleased with his progress - she thinks he'll be at the top of the class before long." The pride in Dan's voice was unmistakable.

"That's fantastic. You've really done a wonderful job with him."

"Just passing it forward, Uncle Bill. I seem to remember someone doing the same for me."

Silence reigned for a moment as both men were overcome with memories. Vicki stroked Dan's face with one hand, bringing him back to the present. He grinned at her as he spoke into the phone again. "Anyway, that's not really why I called." Dan took a deep breath. "Uncle Bill, I've asked Vicki to marry me. And she said yes!"

"Woo-hoo! Congratulations, Dan!" Uncle Bill's shout came through the phone loud and clear, causing both Dan and Vicki to break into laughter.

"She's sitting there with you, I take it?" Uncle Bill asked. "Let me speak with her for moment."

Dan handed the phone to Vicki with a wink.

"Hello?" she said into the receiver.

"I just wanted to tell you, no matter how much I may tease I really think a lot of Dan. You're getting a good man."

"I couldn't agree with you more," Vicki told him.

"Just treat him well," Uncle Bill continued. "His life has been rough enough already."

"I'll do the best I can," Vicki assured him.

"Well then, welcome to the family! You don't know what you've gotten yourself into!"

Vicki laughed. "Thank you, Uncle Bill." She handed the phone back to Dan.

"Hey, Uncle Bill," Dan said.

"So, when's the big day?"

"We haven't really decided that yet," Dan answered.

"Well, you'd better make it soon," Uncle Bill advised. "You don't want to give her a chance to have any second thoughts!"

Dan laughed. "Sure, Uncle Bill. Whatever you say. Listen, give Aunt Joan a hug and kiss for me, and make sure she gives them back. I'll talk to you later."

"Bye, Danny Boy. You take care! Love you!" Uncle Bill responded.

"Love you too," Dan said. He hung up the phone and turned his full attention back to the warm and wonderful woman sitting beside him.

Padraig O'Seanan is pronounced 'Patrick O'Shannon' back

Word Count: 9920

Author's Notes:

Thank you to my wonderful editors, PBahr (Trish), Malficent, and CLynn (CarrieLynn). They each have wonderful comments to make, and do a great job at pointing out my errors. Speaking of which - any errors you find are totally my own fault, because I either ignored their suggestions, or tampered after they'd read it!

Hell's Kitchen (also known as Clinton and Midtown West) is a neighborhood of Manhattan that includes roughly the area between 34th Street and 57th Street, from 8th Avenue to the Hudson River.

I'm hoping that you all like Vicki James for Dan - and don't think they're moving too quickly getting engaged after only 6 months. I see Dan as being a rather decisive type, once he finds the right woman. A bit like my DH - he wanted to get married after we'd known each other only 2 months!

Many of the Irish Blessings in my story can be found here Elaine's Irish Blessings Page. Any not found there are ones that I have encountered elsewhere, most likely from Irish friends and/or family.

This story is for CWP 1.5:
✓A Seecrud - Your choice if you choose to reveal the Seecrud in the course of the story
✓Pecan Pie
✓Auction - your choice: live or Internet, or the mention of
✓King Kong - Use your imagination! *wicked smile*
✓Changing a tire
✓Shattered glass
✓A personal paper that is missing
✓A storm - tornado, tsunami, hurricane, snow, rain - whatever you want!
✓A broken heart
✓And of course, a song! 'Could I have this dance?' by Anne Murray
✓You must also use a carryover item from Any CWP - Project One Elements: Sex in a park

This is a fan fiction site for the Trixie Belden Mystery series, a juvenile fiction series written by Julie Campbell and Kathryn Kenny. All characters, etc., remain the property of Random House publishing. No profit is made from the stories on this site.

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Dan Mangan