A small cry came from Remy's wallet after Fiona spoke. " I know it doesn't come cheap, but I offered..." Remy looked at the graves one more time. "Well, dey would leave it until it can be used... consider it a reserved spot. Hopefully when it's really used da words 'lovin' wife an' mother' are added." Grinning like the jester he is, Remy hinted at the future that might be.

"So cherie, what up on da menu... drinks, walks, swimming?"

Fiona blushed...actually blushed...and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. 'Loving wife and mother,' what an interesting thought. She pictured another last name chipped in onto her gravestone, and shot Remy an amused glance. "Yeah...hopefully. And...swimming? I don't have a bathing suit, I'm afraid. But somehow I'm sure you knew that."

As the unusual couple walked arm in arm from the cemetery, Fiona thought, for the millionth time, on all that had happened since Detective Bruyere had stumbled upon her in Shin's restaurant. Since she had first met Jack and the little waif, Colette. Jack...with a pang, she realized that before she had 'died,' she hadn't even had a chance to apologize for not returning his...advances. She hadn't had a chance to tell him that had had been right about her and Remy...well, at least about her feelings (ugh, what a painful word) for Remy, and that she wasn't going to drag the fly boy along pretending otherwise. Jack was an amazing man. The kind she had always assumed she would fall for, if ever she fell for anyone. But she had somehow allowed herself to slip into a goofy state over the womanizing Cajun, and simply couldn't see Jack as anything but just that: an amazing man. A friend. But she would have to contact him at some point and...

She slowed, then stopped, pulling Remy into a halt with her. She tilted her head, squinting. There he was. Jack Weathersby, wandering through the morning streets of New York by himself. Well, now was as good a time as any. She cleared her throat, glancing at Remy. "Would you give me a moment? I see a friend that's probably going to be just a bit balled up when he sees me..." She nodded towards Jack, releasing Remy's arm as she started towards him. "I'll be back in a jiffy," She promised, tilting her hat a little further back away from her eyes.

She halted a few feet from the war veteran, rubbing her arm as she thought on what, exactly, to say. This was her first time coming back from the dead, and she wasn't quite sure how to handle it. Most of the people that had known her wouldn't even recognize her in the casual civilian clothes. Finally, she cleared her throat and gently tapped on his shoulder. When he glanced around, she flashed a smile. "Hey, Jack."

Jack turned and for moment froze, he stared at the woman standing before him. His eyes bugged a bit and his jaw opened and closed at least three times. Then he wrapped his arms around her and spun in a circle a loud whoop raising in the New York morning. The sound caused some to stop and stare a moment before they continued on.

Putting Fiona down, Jack stepped back, tears in his eyes, "You're alive, my god Fi, we were worried about you. I...I attended your funeral." Then he stopped and stared at her, a stern look in his eyes, "I attended your funeral! What the hell! Do you know that I was sick for two days after that?"

Jack exhaled deeply as he shook his head, "Look I don't know why you did it, or even why people are trying to kill you. I want to kill myself right now!" Jack said between clenched teeth. After a moment he sighed and shook his head, "No I don't. My heart sank when I heard you had died. I am glad you're alright, but..."

Jack frowned and stared at the petite blond before him, "Fiona Muirenn, if you ever pull a stunt like that again without telling me, so help me!" Jack flashed her one of his Hollywood smiles, only it was tingled with sorrow.

Fiona merely grinned as Jack whirled her about like a doll. At first, she was simply glad that he didn't pass out, scream, run away, try to splash her ghost with holy water...anything like that. But when he started talking about going to her funeral, about being sick about it...she felt her guilt double up inside her chest. She dropped her eyes, looking rather like a scolded child, and didn't look back up until he finished. Then she rested her hands on his shoulders, looking at him seriously. "Jack. I can promise you that the next time you go to a funeral of mine...it'll be a real one. And I would've let you in on the whole thing if it had been safe. I only told the ones that absolutely had to know."

This was true. Patrick had known, because he was the one taking care of her. Remy had known, because if he hadn't he probably would have gone on a rampage. Or forgotten about it completely and found himself a new informant. She couldn't really be sure. But she had known that letting Jack in on the fact that she had gone with her assassination attempt couldn't end well for the fly boy. Or for Colette. In a rare move of affection (for someone other than Remy), she wrapped her arms around Jack's shoulder and gave him a quick hug. "I'm sorry, Jack. Really."

And with that, she pulled back, grinning and clapping him on the shoulder. "So..um..how have you been.." But she paused, remembering something. She turned and glanced at Remy, then shot Jack an almost sheepish grin. Her brush with death seemed to have loosened her humor some.

"Hey, would you mind...?" And she towed him along towards the Cajun dick, stopping once the three were a small unit in the path of other pedestrians. Then, deciding that they didn't need the audience of any joe or jane that decided to wander across the sidewalk, she guided the two men to a slightly more discreet position near an alley way. She then glanced between the two of them, smoothing out her jacket as she considered what to say. There had been a time when she had been concerned about getting the two of them too close...when she was flirting with both of them for differing reasons. Now she knew exactly what she was willing to give either man, and what she wasn't willing to give either man...but she still didn't know what to say. A rarity.

Remy watched Fiona and Jack go through the motions of people who had something like this happen to them. A bit of rage filled him when Jack picked her up, but then Remy remembered who he was, and the irony of him even having such a feeling. Eventually Fiona had taken both of them to an ally to discuss something.

"I heard what you did mon ami... only a brave man can take a slug like dat an' walk away..." Remy laughed, pointing at his own recent injuries."Too bad dese are more of examples of bein' a fool... Oh, by da way.. Colette's mother hasn't been found yet, but we know she's not dead. I'll keep lookin' like I said I would, it's da least I can do..."

When Fiona led him over to Remy he felt his stomach knot a little as he saw how Remy looked at Fiona, and more importantly how Fi looked at the Cajun. As Fiona led them to a more quite place he listened to Remy as he spoke in that accent of his.

Jack eyed Remy a moment, he knew how Fi felt for the Cajun, a grim smile crossed his face, "Thanks. Thanks. Look...I know..." Nothing further needed to be said, he extended his hand to Remy.

Fiona might have been missing a highly interesting conversation, but she wasn't really paying attention to the two men that she had dragged into alley. She was staring across the street, at something that had caught her eye. Something that she had never seen outside her apartment. She strode forward, brushing past the two men like the ghost she was...at the moment. "Excuse me, boys. I'll be back in a moment."

She crossed the street with an air of purpose, her mouth slowly forming into a fierce scowl. No one took notice of the blond woman with the bright blue eyes as she swept off the sidewalk and into a pawn shop. She made her way directly up to the counter, glaring at the elderly man that stood there until he started to feel uncomfortable and shuffled his feet.

"Where did you get that portrait?" She demanded, her eyes flicking up to a picture that included a man, a woman, and their three blond children.

Jack looked at Remy then frowned as Fi walked off towards a store. She seemed intent on something inside the shop. Glancing at Remy Jack shrugged and followed the petite blond.

Turning back to Remy, "Does she...never mind I know, she tends to do this." Jack huffed as he quickly strode across the street, stepping lightly on the sidewalk. As he did a few young girls stopped to stare, flashing a smile Jack tipped his fedora and slid into the store. He was looking at Fiona, then his eyes traced along her until he was looking at into the fearful eyes of the merchant.

Fiona seemed to be interested in something within the store she went in, which really had nothing to do with him from the sounds of her voice from inside the store. He figured that he would ask her what the item cost her, and give her that much money when she came back out. No, he decided to wait outside the store, drinking from his flask, and enjoying the taste of his favorite "tea".

"Where did you get that portrait?" Fiona demanded once more, leaning forward slightly to better stare down the aged man. The shriveled being took a hesitant step back, clearly embarrassed by how much a glare from a petite blond was effecting him. When it looked as though she were going to leap across the counter at him, he flinched and replied in a sort of raspy whine.

"Look, I don't know! Some broad kicked it an' her janitor hawked this to me! I don't deal in where it comes from, just where it goes, see?" The man rubbed a knobby hand over his whisps of hair, flustered. Fiona heaved an aggravated sigh, looking at the price stickered to the lovely frame. Part of the annoyance about dying was that she no longer had any of her money...other than what she had had on her when she had been blown up...or even any of her clothes. What she was wearing then had been fetched for her by Patrick. She also had no where to stay at the moment. So even if she had HAD enough to buy back her family portrait, she would have had no where to put it.

With another frustrated sigh, she turned away for a moment, considering what to do. Then she snapped back around, hands on the counter. "Well, can you hold it for me?"

The man grumbled a bit, taking his thick spectacles off to rub them on his grimy shirt. "For who?"

Fiona paused, realizing that she couldn't really hold it for herself. So she cleared her throat and spoke firmly, "Rachel Weathersby." And with this, she turned, grabbing Jack's arm and attempting to lead him back out of the dark store. What a frustrating situation..

Jack stood a moment as the entire seen played back in fast forward in his mind and came to crashing halt when Fionna's voice said "Rachel Weathersby." Yes that's the point when his heart stopped and abruptly a second later kick started into action again.

"Err...well..." Before he knew it he was outside with a highly irate blond woman who had just recently risen from the dead. Jack groaned and looked at the flask in Remy's hand, in one stride he was next to the Cajun, the flask was snatched from the detectives hand and Jack had taken a deep swig.

Exhaling as the powerful liquor seared his throat, bending slightly at the waist he started coughing, he clamped a hand on Remy's shoulder, "Smooth...very smooth." Jack managed to get out before he coughed again.

Shaking his head, Jack leaned against Remy for a second, then stood straight. An explosive exhale and a blink of the eyes then he turned around and looked at Fionna again, one word, and only one managed to pass his lips as he looked into her eyes, "What?"

Fiona was still fuming. Her only reminder of what her family had looked like as a complete unit, and it was hanging in a pawn shop! Oh, someone's head was going to roll. Or at least their thumbs were going to be broken. However, she was aroused just the tiniest bit from her anger at the sound and sight of Jack apparently preparing to have a heart attack. Or perhaps he had actually thought that Remy's flask was full of water. Either way, there was much coughing and sputtering until her finally looked her in the eyes and asked a relatively simple question: "What?"

Fiona, or, 'Rachel,' as she was now called, stared right back into the handsome man's eyes with a slight air of confusion. She replied with another simple question. "What, 'what?' Every thing's jake, I just want that picture back. It's one of the only things I have left from my Mam. I've had it for well over ten years! What are you so balled up about?"

Without waiting for an answer, she sighed, and rubbed her brow, glancing back to see the owner of the shop staring after her with some concern. Tsking her disapproval, she started off once more down the sidewalk. She still had to figure out how...or when...she was going to reveal herself back unto the world. Coming back from the dead was such tricky business. And she still hadn't eaten breakfast.

Jack had grabbed Remy's flask out of his hands, a rather big no no to him... but they were friends in some manor, and he decided against throwing his fists. " "bout dat Jack... never grab a flask in my hand an' drink from it... t'in's will be violent..." He said with a grin as he took it back.

The conversation had helped Remy understand Fiona's anger. "Dat's your family photo... dis won't do one bit... tell ya what, I'll buy for ya... I'm sure I got da money hidden away, after all, I've been tracking gangs since I joined da force.."

Jack coughed again and staggered back into a woman who was clacking her way up the alley. Turning swiftly he looked into the sheeba's eyes. His jaw dropped, "I am so sorry miss..." Jack said as he stepped back and looked at the others then back to the woman, "Umm, Jack Weathersby at your service."

Clearly the amount of beautiful woman in New York was not understated, this was the second chance encounter and the second woman he had seen that made his heart leap into his throat.

Flashing one of his famous Hollywood grins at the woman he asked, "And you are?"

Fiona blinked at Remy's offer, the traces of her frustration vanishing. He was offering to dig into his mobster busting money to buy a mobster family heirloom? The corners of her mouth shifted into another light smile, but she merely patted the Cajun on his rough cheek. "No, Remy. I appreciate the offer, but don't go digging into your retirement fund. At least not until the honeymoon."

Shooting the dick a teasing grin, she turned and glared once more at the shop owner (who was still gawking at her), then took Remy's arm and turned to see Jack drinking in the image of...

"Oh, Lord." Fiona muttered under her breath, releasing the Detective. Standing in the alley was an apparently drunken (or perhaps she was just trying to be even more seductive than usual) singer. Shin's singer, she recalled. And the girl that Remy had attempted to double up his information with. With a jolt, Fiona realized that there was a chance this Sheeba would recognize her as a dead woman. Best not to antagonize her, then. At any rate, Jack seemed to be appreciating the girl. Which was good. If he decided to offer his amazing smile and remarkable personality to the tomato with the dark hair, then maybe he could forget about the fact that Fiona was giving him the high hat for a Cajun that seemed to think of her exactly the same way that he thought of every other chassis. For a moment, she paused, wondering if she really was doing that.

From what she had seen, Jack was incredible. Rich, handsome, dashing, adventurous. And from what she had seen, Remy was sneaky, drunk, a skirt chaser that had already shown (with the girl now in view) that he was not interested in anything that could be found outside of a struggle buggy, and more likely than not, going to arrest her some day. Had she actually been given a reason to prefer Remy over Jack? Other than her own inexplicable damned feelings? No, She thought as she glanced between the two men, But I'll be damned if I don't anyway.

Clearing her throat slightly, she glanced at the Cajun dick as though the reminder of his earlier slip up were not standing there right before their faces. "So. Have you eaten yet, Detective?"

"..Honeymoon...? Ya don't say..." Having his arm held onto again, Remy walked with Fiona to where ever she wanted to go. It's odd really, not many janes could force Remy to not play with other women, and even less could make him love them enough to behave himself. " But it's a priceless item..." Remy noticed the girl talking to Jack and had a sick feeling... Great... lets she if she punishes moi more...

"Breakfast, no I haven't Cherie... some pancakes or stew would be good right 'bout now..."

Jack was taken by the beauty of the baby vamp, smiling at her he heard the other two starting to leave. Turning quickly he saw Remy and Fi, arms linked as they conversed. An sudden feeling of anxiety caused Jack to inhale a deep breath as he fought to regain his composure.

Shaking his head he looked at the woman, "Baby, want to grab a bite and shoot the breeze?" But before she could reply he paused and held a finger up, darting back inside the store he bought the picture and carried it outside with him.

Smiling at the woman, and holding the picture wrapped in burlap he said, "So breakfast?"

Today was a day for surprises. Jack had received a great shock in discovering Fiona to have not been blown to bits. Fiona had been shocked to see her family portrait hanging in some pawn shop. And now, Remy was to receive a shock as well. Fiona, who would have normally been extremely likely to simply cease speaking to Remy for a while...didn't seem to even take notice of Evelyn's presence. She simply held on to Remy's arm, and went right on walking in the direction of some quiet cafe. She heard Jack invite the vamp to breakfast, and she fought the urge to smile. The fly boy recovered fast. That was good.

"Pancakes and stew, eh? Odd combination. But hey, you're the dapper one right now." And she winked at him as they stopped in front of the nearly deserted place. She was still unsure of how exactly to unveil herself to the world...best to stay out of the public eye for now. "Throw in a cup of joe and I think you've got yourself a winning combination. Let's get a wiggle on, shall we?"

Without waiting for a reply, and only glancing briefly to check on Jack and the bird from Shin's place, Fiona led Remy into the cafe.