Jayme: Thanks. Glad you like it. Here's the next chap.


UC: Undercover belongs to NBC and Shane Salerno. I only own characters you don't recognize, which as far as I know, includes the bar. I know it's generally called "Hush Little Baby", but I heard it referred to as "Mocking Bird" in a movie.

A couple hours later, Christina was at Jake's apartment, pacing nervously.

"Oye, calmate," Jake chided.

"I figured he'd call by now. What's he trying to do? Make me crazy?" Christina wondered. She glanced at the phone, which had been linked to the undercover's phone equipment.

"Hey. I'm right here, all right? As long as I'm here, you won't go crazy," Jake said.

"Cocky, ain'tcha?" Christina queried.

"Well, you know me," Jake grinned. She playfully smacked him. Then, the phone rang. Christina nervously walked over to the nightstand and picked the instrument up as Jake went into the kitchen to listen in on the other line.

"Hello?" she asked. Back at headquarters, Cody's ears perked.

"Sir? I think we got him," he reported.

"Run the trace," Frank ordered. Cody immediately pressed the button that let them trace the call.

"Christina, is that you?" a timid voice asked.

"Yeah, it's me," Christina confirmed. "Trevor, is that you?" she queried.

"You remember me?" Cody rolled his eyes at the eagerness in the man's voice. What a geek, he thought to himself.

"Of course I remember you, Trevor. You wrote me that nice letter," Christina stated.

"But you called the police," Trevor reminded her.

"I know. And I'd really like to meet you so I can apologize," Christina told him.

"Really?" Trevor questioned.

"Yeah," Christina replied. She glanced at Jake, who motioned for her to keep talking. "Listen Trevor, I really want to make this up to you. I mean, I know this was a pretty big mistake and---I just---I need to talk to you in person," she continued.

"Okay. There's a bar over on 5th Street. Let's meet there in half an hour," Trevor suggested.

"Yeah. I---I think I know where that is. That's a good place," Christina agreed. The conversation went on for a few more seconds and then they hung up.

"Okay. Let's go," Jake said gruffly.

"But the meeting's not for thirty minutes," Christina objected.

"Well, we're gonna need time to get you wired," Jake told her.

"Oh. Okay," Christina said. With that, they took off. At the headquarters, Jake put together a wire. He stepped up to Christina, then stopped.

"Um, I'm---I'm gonna have to---" Jake began to say.

"It's okay," Christina interrupted reassuringly. With that, Jake undid the top button of her shirt and began taping the wire to her chest. He pressed down on the tape, his fingers brushed against her shirt collar.

"Jake, put your hand down her shirt," Whitlow ordered from behind him the camera.

"What?" Jake gasped, turning to stare at the man. "No, I'm not gonna---"

"Dog, you do it, or I swear I'll make it worse for you," Whitlow threatened. With a shaky breath, Jake put his hand on Christina's collar. His fingers moved downward.

"Jake?" Alex's voice brought Jake from his dark thoughts.

"Sorry. I just---" he trailed off. The singer looked at her friend sympathetically.

"It's okay," she told him.

"All set?" he queried.

"All set," his old friend confirmed.

"Good. It's time to roll," Jake stated. They walked out to where Jake had parked his motorcycle. Minutes later, Jake pulled into the parking lot of Addison's Bar. He nodded in acknowledgement of the two officers that were already hidden.

"Okay. You ready?" he questioned.

"As I'll ever be, I guess," was her response.

"You can back out. It's all right," he assured her.

"I'll be fine," she laughed.

"I'll be right outside. As soon as we get what we need, I'll be right in to arrest him," he reminded her.

"Right," Christina remembered. She blew out a breath and then went inside as Jake took his position right outside the door. Inside, Christina waited at the counter. Presently, a man about five-seven with red hair walked up to her.

"Christina?" he timidly questioned.

"That depends. Are you Trevor?" Christina checked.

"Yes, I am," the man confirmed.

"Well, then, I'm Christina," she stated.

"You said you wanted to talk to me?" Trevor queried.

"Yeah. I do," Christina told him. "It's about the calls and the letter," she told him.

"I---didn't mean to cause so much trouble. I just wanted to let you know that you had my sympathy," Trevor said.

"I know. I realized that after I had calmed down," Christina responded. "You know, I'm---I'm real sorry I called the police on you," she apologised.

"It's okay," Trevor said.

"You know, I was just curious, how did you know about the song?" Christina wondered.

"Oh, you mean "Mocking Bird?" Trevor queried.

"Yeah," Christina nodded.

"Oh, that's easy. I used to be friends with a man named James Whitlow and he showed me a tape once," Trevor replied.

"Jake, you got a 'go'," Donovan reported. Jake walked in.

"Hey, do you mind?" Trevor demanded.

"Yeah, I do. You're under arrest for stalking," Jake told him.

"Christina," Trevor said in surprise.

"Turn around," Jake instructed. Trevor did so and Jake brought handcuffs. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law," he continued.

"Just who are you?" Trevor asked angrily.

"I'm the other kid on that tape you watched," Jake stated. "Now keep moving," he ordered. He continued the Miranda as they walked out. The female officer came out and walked up to Christina.

"Are you okay?" she asked gently.

"Just glad it's over," the singer replied.

"Come on," the female officer said. Two days later, the team, minus Jake, were at a nightclub.

"Hey, where's Jake?" Donovan wondered.

"Oh. He said he had something to do and that he wasn't going to be able to make it," Alex responded. They watched as Christina took her place on stage.

"This next song is dedicated to a friend who couldn't be here tonight, but I know he's rooting for me just the same," she announced. With that, a slow, bluesy jazz temp filled the room.

Hush little baby, don't say a word.

Papa's gonna buy you a mocking bird.

If that mocking bird don't sing,

Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring.

At the Chicago Orphanage for Boys, Jake walked through the halls.

"Hey, Jake," Mike said as he came out of the rec area.

"Hey, Mike. Brett in?" Jake queried.

"Always," Mike replied. Jake continued on his way until he came to a door marked Counselor's Office. Then, he opened the door. Brett Rogers looked up from his paperwork.

"Jake Shaw. Well this is a surprise," he commented.

"What can I say? I'm finally ready to talk," Jake shrugged.

"Well, come on in," Brett invited. Jake closed the door.

If that diamond ring turns brass,

Papa's gonna buy you a looking glass.

If that looking glass gets broke,

Papa's gonna buy you a Billy go-o-oat...



If you or someone you know is being physically abused, call 1-800-4-A-CHILD (2-24453). If you or someone you know is being sexually abused, call RAINN's national hotline at 1-800-656-HOPE (4673).