Hello loverfaces. LONG TIME no see. I missed all of you.

Please review...

Welcome me back. It's been a long 7 years…..

XxXxX

It doesn't hurt me
You want to feel how it feels
You want to know, know that it doesn't hurt me
You want to hear about the deal I'm making
You...
You and me

And if I only could
I'd make a deal with God
And I'd get him to swap our places
Be running up that road
Be running up that hill
Be running up that building

If I only could oh...

You don't want to hurt me
But see how deep the bullet lies
Unaware I'm tearing you asunder
Oh there is thunder in our hearts, baby
Is there so much hate for the ones we love
Tell me we both matter don't we….

And if I only could
I'd make a deal with God
And I'd get him to swap our places

-Placebo – Running up that hill.

XxXxX

Sandy shifted uncomfortably against his cot. His head was pounding yet again from another brutal attack by Officer She-Hitler. However it was his last because she had gotten a transfer. She was now a Detective and transferred to Las Vegas.

'Well, isn't this a perfect little amazing mystery?'

His mind was startled and shocked with the news. Maybe his sentence would be reduced…

It has been nearly a year and eight long and tortuous months since he has been locked up. Time shown on his face, his piercing blue eyes were tiresome and fatigued, yet wild and constantly aware of who was behind him, of any noise that seemed odd, of any noise period.

His senses were heightened to the extreme of a wolf. He could hear a guard coming a mile away or a fight breakout in the shower room.

The last time Walthrop tried to attack him he had her so quickly on her back and fearful for her life she smacked her head off the floor and put her back up against a wall, her eyes teaming with anger and fear.

A caged animal eventually shows its true self with due time.

His punishment for that was solitaire for a month which was nothing - he nearly enjoyed it instead of being surround these people, some of which were animals or pedophiles, murders, or any of that sorts. Being alone with his thoughts was perfect it gave him more time to imagine his life as it used to be. He never even factored it the fact that it could be sooner than what he thought.

He grew his hair out slightly long and a goatee covered his face along with a constant five o' clock shadow. He worked out everyday sometimes two or three times a day and had gained considerable amount of muscle, despite the food being so disgusting that you couldn't barely choke it down.

He was lucky in some respect because he had his own cell. Some of the fellow inmates he had actually put in here or tried to defend at some point in their life and as a guard put it him "You wouldn't be alive if we hadn't done this for you."

Done what exactly? Let him get beat within an inch of his life for the first six months. Walthrop barely visited now but other worries fatigued him. She quit after tearing a muscle in her shoulder.

He hadn't seen Kirsten in nearly a year and eight long, terrible, lonely impossible months. He knew if he did see her he would lose it entirely.

He would lose his focus of staying alive and beating this, He would BEAT the system.

But what would he become once he was released?

His wife's hair was so gorgeous and he loved playing with every blond strand. She lay on the couch in front of him watching tv as he played with her hair. Fingertips brush the naked soft skin of her arms as his hands roam. He smiles as he gets his desired reaction of goose bumps on her silky flesh.

She turns her head, a flash of desire across her face, her eyes dancing and adoring him and only him. He can almost feel her kissing him softly.

But it's only just a dream… It's always just a damn dream.

XxXxX

"Hello Kirsten," Mark said sweetly as she opened the massive door to the beautiful house.

"Hi Mark, come in, come in," she ushered softly and lead him past the foyer to the living room.

Mark took notice of the added blankets and pillows stashed in the corner where she had obviously been sleeping.

He took notice of her, her hair lacked sheen and the exhaustion that roved her face was evident of night terrors and many sleepless mind numbing nights.

"How are you?" he asked worriedly, thinking his coming here was not the best of ideas.

She chuckled as she went to the brandy and gave him a glare.

"How I am doing Mark?"

Her voice was ice. It echoed from the house. It bounced unto the cold floor and flew outside the windows as they seemed to rattle and Mark appeared to shrink a few inches.

She took a sip of the amber devil before holding her now naked left hand. "I'm just peachy….Actually it's not your fault, I'm sorry," she whispered as she clutched the glass so hard Mark was scared she would shatter it.

He shook his head accepting the woman's utmost apology.

"He sent me divorce papers you know? Us, twenty years of us, and he gives up because of this, BECAUSE OF THAT STUPID WOMAN."

"He wanted you happy, not torn down because of all this," Mark whispers.

"He won't even talk to me Mark, its just letters. He doesn't call; he refuses to see me….I can't do this. I can't keep doing this…. It's not fair to him or me or…." Kirsten breaks down and sobs before finishing her sentence. Her whole body shudders and gasps of air cannot come fast enough. When Sandy saw her thin frame and near skeleton appearance he may find him and murder him, in a raw cold blood.

"Kirsten you do what you think you need to do, but I didn't come over here to check on you, I come over here to tell you that he will be out in a week and no one knows. Not even him."

The glass shatters on the cold marble floor as everything she wants to hear is coming true and everything she thinks she knows is turning black.

Mark hears an intake of breath and looks above him as Carter's white knuckled grip clings on the railing.

"Or Him…"

XxXxX

Sunlight was bright and he hesitated at the gate.

"Later Cohen, don't forget what I said about my kid, when you get back on my feet."

SLAM.

Sanford Cohen was free.

Julie Cooper pulled her sunglasses off her astonished face from the convertible.

"What in JESUS H CHRISTS NAME HAPPENED TO YOU IN PRISON?!"

He winced as her voice hit a higher note than he thought possible. She stilled looked amazing though.

She looked him over. "MY, oh MY Sandy…"

He was built; his face still held the well trimmed goatee but he was clean shaven around it. His shirt collar was open, his suit bunched to tightly around his shoulders and chest, his dark hair had gotten a insignificant recent hair cut but was still slightly long, graying at the temples.

He huffed. "Really, they send you?"

Julie raised her eyebrows and flashed her perfect teeth into a near snarl – smile at the delightfulness that stood before her.

"Oh Sandy, do you have any idea what the hell has been going on in a year and then some?"

His voice is gruff and sounds like gravel was rammed down his throat. His hands clench into tight fists as his palm begins to sweat.

"No Julie, but I have a fine feeling you will enjoy catching me up."

"Damn right I will… Now get in the damn CAR and hurry up and fix this mess that has been created," she clenched her teeth, flicked her hair back and shifted so she could open up the door to her brand new beautiful Shelby GT Mustang, black with red racing stripes.

The engine rumbled like a cougar and Sandy walked to the driver's side of the car.

"Move, the last thing I heard that sounded this good was a Martha Stewart commercial," his voice growled along with the engine, nearly perfectly in tune with the depth.

"By the way, WE are stopping by the mall and YOU are buying me some clothes."

Julie rolled her eyes but enjoyed a view that she never thought could exist.

"Whatever you say Sanford," she grinned back at him as she jumped in the passengers seat.

XxXxX

Taylor buzzed around the kitchen and Kirsten sat on the island nursing a hangover.

Who would have thought that half the kids of Newport and Chino needed families?

Who in the hell would have thought that Kirsten would have made her home available for kids and not had Sandy there… not Sandy but there was Carter who was spending his late nights.

But then again who was Taylor to say what was to happen… She missed , but then again she understood why Kirsten did what she needed to, or more or less went along with whatever. She wasn't the same woman she used to be. She just didn't care.

XxXxX

Sandy walked through the doors of a house that he lived in long ago.

It was dark, and only the kitchen light was on.

His ex-wife sat there, nursing a shot glass of vodka.

His body tenses, and the reaction to hers is equally as shocked.

'She didn't know.'

As Julie walks in behind him the glass falls shattering and she jumps out of her skin at the sound.

Ravished blue eyes tear up at the site of her. Everything she once was and everything that he made her into now.

Her body is skinny and her bones seem to poke through her clothes. Her eyes are dull and her hands tremble. Her hair doesn't shine or move like it used to and dark circles ran underneath her eyes.

She looks at him her eyes roving over his chiseled features that being in prison benefited him. He stood taller, his muscles and chest bulged through the new stale clothing of the mall.

His hair was faultless and sexy and she watched as he ran his hand through it, ruffling it up.

The goatee was perfect on his hardened chiseled jaw and she was dizzy with his scent, the fact that he was standing so close to her and yet so unyielding.

His eyes never left hers.

Every second her heart pounded harder and louder in her ears and her voice went away and she crumbled and he took a step back, closer to the door but ran into Julie. He was faced with a gut wrenching decision.

He stepped up behind Kirsten and his voice dropped into a sexy deep whisper.

"Can I talk to you? In private?"

His voice gave her goose bumps and she stood up wordlessly and stared at him for a second and led them into their bedroom…

XxXxX