Bobby sat in a chair next to Pam's bed. To the casual onlooker, he looked as though he was deep in thought. The truth was; he was too numb to think about much of anything. There is only so much the mind can take before it shuts down and the trauma of the last few days was beginning to take its toll on Bobby.

The hospital sheets rustled as Pamela turned onto her side and slowly opened her eyes. Bobby wasn't aware she was awake, so she reached over and lightly placed her hand on his. He turned to her. She smiled contentedly and squeezed his hand. “Good morning.”

Her smile didn't fade and Bobby longed to allow her to remain happy a little while longer. “Mornin'. You look like you're feeling a little bit better.” Pam sat up gingerly, taking extra care not to irritate her incision.

She turned back to Bobby and said, “I think I am.” She looked at him closer and silently noticed the circles under his eyes, the overgrown beard, and the sadness about his eyes. “You didn't sleep at all, did you.” It was more of a statement than a question. He moved closer to sit on the edge of her bed. Pam ran a hand lovingly along the side of his face, feeling the stubble there from the days of not shaving. “You really should go home and get a decent night's sleep.” She continued to smile softly, but she noticed a subtle change in Bobby. If asked, she couldn't have defined the feeling, nor given an account of the times she'd felt it. But their connection was strong and now that she was fully alert and out of the coma, she instinctively knew that something was very wrong. “Bobby? Are you going to tell me about it?”

Bobby tried to appear more relaxed, but didn't quite make it. “What do you mean?”

“I can tell. Now are you going to tell me what's wrong?”

He tightened his hand around hers and slowly began to speak. “Pam, you know there was an ice storm last night.” She nodded her head and he continued. “Sometime after midnight, the electricity went out.”

Pam immediately thought of BJ and Savannah as she remembered the beeps of the heart monitors and the 'whoosh' of the respirators. Her mouth went dry as she listened to Bobby talk.

“They were out for just a little while here at the hospital. But…” He glanced up at the ceiling, trying hard to hold back the tears. “… the baby was already so small… and…”

Tears were freely flowing down Pam's cheeks now, as Bobby struggled to put the words together that would somehow make sense out of their child's death.

“But, Bobby, even with a respirator failure…”

Bobby shook his head. “I don't understand all of the details yet, but there were other things wrong, it was all just too much.” He stopped and took a shuddering breath. “He went into cardiac arrest… there was nothing they could do.”

Instinctively, Pam's hand went to her mouth as she whispered, “B.J.” Her eyes searched Bobby's for some hint of hope, she found none. “Oh no, no… Bobby, please, no, NO!” Her cries grew louder as she felt her heart break in two. Not her baby… Bobby's baby… Not again… Bobby took her in his arms, holding her as tightly as he could. He laid his cheek against hers and as they grieved for their lost child, their tears flowed together.

Enough sunlight shone into Jillian's room to awaken her from her cold slumber. Shivering, she pulled her comforter up to her chin. She stared up at the ceiling and then turned her head to look out the window. School had been called off for the day, due to a lot of still impassable roads and a few power outages, but Jillian almost wished she could go to school today. At least that would help take her mind off what happened yesterday—or more specifically, what didn't happen.

“Jill…we don't need to do this. Not here. Not now.”

“I couldn't think of a better time. The ice is falling outside…we have a crackling fire inside, and it's just me and you…”

“Jill honey, you are a beautiful young lady,” the gentle voice of her mother, Mandy, echoed through her mind. Don't get yourself bogged down into a self-image problem…”

But now she wasn't sure. Of course her mother was going to tell her she was pretty. What kind of mother would shatter her own daughter's self-esteem by telling her that she wasn't? Jillian folded her arms across her chest.

“I don't want to do this…” Manny said in a whisper. There was almost a fearful tone present in his voice.

He finished his tour of the room and stood waiting. Michelle decided a nice hot shower was just what she needed after a night in that putrid airport. Heading for the bathroom, she dropped a tip into his waiting hand as she went by. The tip was her usual one, a dollar a bag, unless the guy was particularly helpful; and a dollar a bag was more than enough for this guy, she thought.

As she entered the shower, the steam began billowing around her and she thought about her last visit to Dallas. How she hated this town! She consoled herself with the thought that she didn't plan on being here long. Collect what was rightfully hers and then move the headquarters of April Oil to California. After all, there wasn't a law that said the company had to be run from Dallas. “And there's definitely nothing to keep me here,” she smiled and said to herself as she began to pour shampoo out of a bottle and into her hand. Nothing came out and she squeezed the bottle again. She turned the little hotel 'guest shampoo' bottle upside down and looked into it. The bottle was completely empty. “Damn,” she said as she tossed the bottle to the floor. “I hate this town!”

“I thought we were hit by an ice storm…not a tornado. Oy vey!” she exclaimed as she finally left the office for the day.

Sue Ellen felt refreshed and re-energized now that the ice was melting. She was ready to get back down to business. A quick glance at the coat rack told her that J.R. hadn't made it in yet and she was relieved that she could settle into her office and get to work without his harassment—at least for a little while.

Just seconds after she'd taken a seat at her desk, a knock sounded at her office door and Sue Ellen sighed. “J.R., if you're back for more of what you got yesterday, then you might as well leave, because I am not in the mood.” Then Sue Ellen realized that J.R. usually didn't knock. She thought she'd locked the lobby doors just outside the elevator, but maybe she hadn't. Or maybe it was just Sly or Phyllis, or maybe even Kendall. “Come in,” she said.

The door opened and a man wearing a business suit walked in. “There was no receptionist…”

Sue Ellen was perplexed. “Did you have an appointment? I don't recall seeing anything on the books until after noon today.” She scanned through her appointment book to double-check, but stopped when the man spoke again.

“No, no appointment. I'm in Dallas for a few days meeting with some of the other independents and even a few of the big guys.”

“About?”

“I'm sure you've already read and reviewed the informal proposal that was mailed to your office.”

“Proposal?”

“Yes…about Project Guinea.”

Sue Ellen nodded. “I've been over the whole thing and on behalf of Ewing Oil, let me tell you that we are not interested.”

The man extended his hand and Sue Ellen reluctantly took it. “I'm sorry…I didn't even introduce myself. My name is Carlton Beckley and I'm a representative of the U.S. Department of Energy.”

“Mr. Beckley, I'm sorry to be abrupt, but quite frankly, you're wasting your time. Ewing Oil is not interested. The risk is too high.”

Carlton Beckley tilted his head back and laughed heartily. “I'm assuming you've seen the so-called 'public-service announcements', which were concocted by independent groups of radical conservationists who wish for nothing more than for every oil company in Texas to disappear…despite the devastating consequences it would have on this great state. They are blinded by their desire to protect the environment, which in all reality, is in no immediate danger from the work we plan to do.”

“I see,” Sue Ellen said while absorbing it all. “So what you're saying is that the risks aren't as great as what they've been made out to be?”

Carlton shook his head. “Not in the slightest. In a nutshell, the conservationists…the tree-huggers…whatever you want to call them are trying to scare all you oil companies away from joining in this alliance with the U.S. government to set up camp in Nigeria and drill away—think of it Mrs. Ewing…the pay-off is almost one-hundred percent guaranteed. You'll join in on a contract with the government…you provide the materials, the manpower, the experience…and once the oil has been extracted, you have a guaranteed buyer in the government.”

“So why exactly is the U.S. government wanting this oil?”

“To be frank, with the current situation being what it is in the Middle East, maybe even, eventually, all over the world, we need a stockpile of fuel that we can depend on to keep our military running. We don't want to depend on foreign independents for all of it…especially when currently friendly nations may quickly turn into 'unfriendly' ones.” Carlton reached into his briefcase and pulled out a contract; then he handed it across the desk to Sue Ellen.

Sue Ellen shook her head. “I'm not signing this…not right now.”

“The deadline is coming up soon.”

“I'm aware of that Mr. Beckley, but even if I were to join in on this project, it wouldn't be on a whim, so I would appreciate your giving me time to have this reviewed by our team of lawyers.”

Carlton Beckley smiled. “Of course Mrs. Ewing. As I said, I will be in Dallas for a few more days and I will be in touch. I would like to say however, that Ewing Oil is one of the few that we have approached that has not signed on.”

Sue Ellen stood up and walked Carlton to the door. “Ewing Oil doesn't make decisions based on what everyone else is doing. It has always set itself apart from the rest…in some way or the other. We'll look over this and let you know something as soon as we can.”

Carlton nodded at Sue Ellen as he stepped through the door. She slowly shut the door behind him. She wasn't as solid in her determination not to join in on this deal as she had been yesterday. She had to admit that the guaranteed payoff was attractive, but what if the oil didn't come in? What if there were problems with the natives? This deal was huge; as much as she wanted to simply push it aside, it demanded her attention. But the biggest obstacle to her was that she'd already told J.R. 'no'. Now what was she going to do?

“There you are!” Cliff walked through his bedroom door and into the hallway.

Pamela Rebecca looked at his multicolored, polka dotted robe. “That's real nice, Dad. I see you're still taking fashion tips from clowns.” She looked into his face, “suits you, actually.” Pamela Rebecca turned her back on him, heading to her old bedroom.

“Hey, don't start that with me. You show up here from out of nowhere refusing to say anything about where you've been all this time or why you never called.”

Pamela Rebecca wheeled around and stared at him indignantly. When she spoke, her voice was dripping with sarcasm. “And poor Daddy was so worried that he had a whole troop of investigators searching for me night and day.”

Now it was Cliff's turn to look indignant. “You sent a card! You said you just wanted to get away!”

She walked toward him. “Which is it, then, Daddy? Am I the irresponsible little girl who ran away from home? Or did I send you a card telling you I was okay?”

“Hey, hey, hey, come on, now Pamela Rebecca. Let's not fight. Let's go down to the kitchen and have some breakfast. How ever you got here, it's good you're home. I didn't think I had anything to live for when I heard about your mother, and then you showed up.”

Pamela Rebecca shuddered at the thought of her mother. Could she really be gone? She nodded and headed down the steps with Cliff. “When did you learn to cook?”

“I didn't. You're cooking.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You know Dad, you're kind of pathetic. But I guess we're all we've got. Oh, and by the way, no one calls me Pamela Rebecca anymore. It's Becky now.”

“But, Doctor, I don't understand, they both seemed to be getting better.”

“Mr. Ewing, the problem here is that there really isn't any one thing to point to as the sole cause of death. It could have been any number of things coming together at the wrong time. And, you have to keep in mind that the baby was struggling for his life anyway. He was getting better, but 'better' is a relative term.”

Pam sat stone still, tears constantly streaming down her cheeks. Bobby put his harm around her and pulled her closer to him. He was surprised when she pulled away from him. “So what you're saying is that he may have died anyway.”

The Doctor nodded solemnly and tried to answer Pam's question as gently as she could. “The odds weren't in his favor. The respirator's failure during the blackout contributed to the stress on his body, but the cardiac arrest was the immediate cause his death; and that may have happened at any time, whether the electricity went out or not.”

Pamela thought about her little son in those last few minutes of his life. They'd told her that nothing could be done… did that mean that they just stood there while he died? A shudder racked her body and this time she didn't pull away from Bobby, who was teary eyed as well. Though she tried to stifle the sobs, all she could do was press herself close to Bobby and cry until the worst of it passed.

Dr. Boneta kindly waited while Pam struggled for control. Soon, Pam calmed a little and the doctor prepared to go. “If you don't have any more questions, I'll be going to check on Savannah.” Bobby turned to her and nodded. She gave him a compassionate look and said, “The only other advice I have, is for both of you is to get some rest.” She nodded in Pam's direction. “I'll send someone up with a sedative for her.”

The doctor left and Bobby turned to encircle Pam in his arms once more. As she cried, he held her and said, “This is hard. Maybe the hardest thing we've ever faced together.” He pulled back and cupped her face in his hands. “But we are together; and we have Gracie and Savannah to think about. They need us, Pammy, they need us so much. We have to think about them now.”

Pam nodded and then buried her face against his chest. “I love you, Bobby.”

Bobby stroked the back of her hair. “I love you, too. And we're gonna make it through this.” He didn't allow himself to think about what was to come. Pam leaving the hospital, hopefully with Savannah, but not with B.J.; then there would be a memorial service to get through. If he had looked ahead, he may not have spoken those words with such confidence.

The members of the board were now Kaitlin Ryan, who was well liked by the shareholders and known for her political connections; John Savory, whose bank held a large number of shares; former Dallas Congressman Steven Dent; Alyssa Thompson, a respected financial analyst; Hank McKenna, a former Weststar Executive Vice President; and finally, Jeremy Wendell, who still held 13% of the company. 

Rex rode up the elevator to the top floor of the building, thinking of Kaitlin, and how things had soured so quickly. He was still amazed that a woman could make him think and feel this way. On a day where he had such an intriguing proposal for his Board members Weststar should be the only thing on his mind. He had to have her back so he could concentrate on his work again.

As Rex walked by the huge reception desk, the secretaries and low level executives all bade him a good morning. As he approached the board room, two armed security guards opened the double doors for him. He strode past them and went in. 

Kaitlin was the only member of the board sitting at the table. Wendell was talking to the other members on the balcony, which was ornately catered. She was reviewing some financial documents and reports. She was looking at them, but she wasn't really seeing them. Like Rex, she was still reeling from last night. Kaitlin shut her eyes as she thought of how deeply she adored him…and how his dishonesty hurt her so much. 

She looked up as the guards opened the door, and saw him walk through the doorway. Their eyes met and locked, Rex thought he caught a fleeting look of sadness and maybe regret in her eyes. Kaitlin knew the look on Rex's face was one of regret. Good. she wanted him to hurt like he had hurt her. The look in her eyes quickly turned to an icy glare. She broke eye contact.

“Kaitlin, darling…. I really wish you would let me explain what I was trying to say last night.“

“Rex, I don't really feel like talking about us. Because…”darling”, there is no 'us'. Not anymore.” 

“Kaitlin, please, I - - “

She cut him off abruptly. She whispered, but there was nothing soft about her tone. It was unmistakably threatening. “Rex, I told you I don't want to talk about it. But if you insist, then I suppose I'll have to stand up right here and tell everyone what a two-timing hustler they have for a CEO. Of course, I'm not sure you'd like the effect that might have on your career. You know, if you can't trust 'em in the bedroom, you can't trust 'em in the board room. So, if you want to avoid such an unfortunate scene, I suggest you do what you're here for and call the meeting to order.” She punctuated her sentence with a sugary sweet smile that didn't touch the ice in her eyes. Had she ever known her twin sister Kristen, she might have been surprised at how much of Kristen was in that smile and those icy blue eyes.

What the couple didn't notice was that Wendell and Steven Dent were watching them through the glass. Neither could read lips, but they knew the body language involved wasn't that of business partners. Dent made a mental note of it; Wendell smirked, and thought that maybe his daughter was finally coming to her senses.

Wendell walked over to the sliding doors. 

“Katie, Wentworth, are you ready to start?” 

Rex's nostrils flared. Jeremy Wendell. Did Texas have no end to arrogant businessmen? 

“That's 'Mister Wentworth' to you, Jeremy; or 'Mister Chairman', whichever is easier for you to remember.” 

Wendell smiled. “Enjoy that title while you can, because it won't be yours for long.” He leaned out to the balcony and waved the other members in. 

Rex carefully looked over the members seated around the table, going over the mental notes in his head about each one; what they liked and disliked, what college they graduated from and even names of wives and children and especially which ones were inclined to take risks. After the secretary read the minutes of the last meeting, he gave a friendly smile to the faces around the table, and went over the changes in the company he planned to implement this quarter, knowing that the real powder keg was still waiting in his arsenal. He was going to submit the proposal that Weststar join-in on an African Oil deal. 

As he went over pension plans and management restructurings…. he noticed that McKenna, Wendell, and Dent didn't seem to overly like him. Wendell was no surprise, but he could have done with out that annoying smirk of his. McKenna rolled his eyes a few times when he thought Rex wasn't looking. Kaitlin refused to even look in his eyes. And when she caught him looking at her, she returned his gaze with a glare. 

Rex continued, completely unfettered. After all, this was his world. As far as he was concerned, everyone else in the room was just visiting. He decided it was time to mention the deal. 

“And finally, ladies and gentlemen, I have some intriguing news. Since I have made the United States my new base of operations, I have made some powerful contacts in the American Government. Naturally, many of those contacts are within U.S. Energy department. One of the Secretary's aides gave me a call with a very unique and profitable deal that I believe West Star should take part in.” 

The group's eyes followed Wentworth as he went to the window and looked out. 

“While American exploration for oil and gas is profitable, and the cornerstone of Weststar's foundation, I believe foreign exploration is key to our growth as an industry leader.” 

McKenna broke into his carefully worded speech. “Hold on Mr. Chairman, the company has invested into Venezuela, Yemen, and several of the other oil producing countries in the former Soviet Union. Now, those are some relatively safe countries to drill in. Anyplace else, there's usually a risk of another group taking power, nationalization…look at Ewing Oil's Asian Wells in the early 80s!“ 

Wendell's smirk flickered at the mention of that. But Rex had been ready for the remark, and coolly replied, “That's true Mr. McKenna, but if you will recall, Ewing Oil became the richest independent in Texas with that deal when the insurrections were overthrown. And I don't think I need to remind anyone that JR Ewing does not control Weststar any longer. I am not he. There is risk in every deal, but here, the possible profits far outweigh the possible risk. The return would be astronomical for the shareholders.“

“Regardless. I propose that we drill in Africa, in regions to be determined by the United States government. My connections tell me that many other companies, including Ewing Oil and the Clifford Group have been approached. I feel that we should move in for the kill and take this risk, if not for the profit, for the chance to curb the chances of real competition from the independent oil companies.“ 

“Mr. Chairman”, Kaitlin said impersonally as her eyes were dead towards him, “I believe this is simply too large of a risk for the company to undertake. While you do hold the largest bloc of stock, there are the other shareholders to remember.” 

Rex's eyes flickered with anger as she smiled sweetly towards him. This was her trying to get back at him, damn her! But he had to admit; the woman was smart and knew when to strike. They were qualities that he loved, though he would prefer she direct them toward someone else.

Wendell spoke up. “Went-Mr. Chairman…I think that this is indeed a good deal, and as someone who still holds a 13% interest in the company, I fully endorse you on it. However, should it fail, I plan to hold you personally responsible. You understand, of course.” 

“Yes, Mr. Wendell. Perfectly.” Rex smiled at him cordially, but in his eyes there was a definite threat. Rex would take only so much from Wendell.

The other board members all made points, and then the time came to vote on the issue. 

“ I propose we put it to a vote“, Rex said. “Mr. McKenna? “  

“Nay.”  

“ Ms. Thompson? 

“Nay.“ 

“Mr. Savory?” 

“Yea.” 

“Mr. Dent?” 

“Yea.” 

Rex turned to a smiling Wendell. 

“Yea.” 

“Ms. Ryan?” Rex asked. He looked in her eyes, trying to see if there was a chance that she would forgive him. 

Unfortunately, she refused to meet his eyes. “Nay.”

“A tie. Very well, as Chairman of the board, I must cast the tie-breaking vote. Secretary, please mark my vote as 'yea'. The motion is carried. Let the record show that the measure to drill in Africa is approved, pending Energy department approval. I move that we adjourn this meeting. Do I hear a second?“ 

Dent seconded, and the members filed out, except for Wendell, Kaitlin, and Rex. 

Wendell looked Rex over. “I don't know what my daughter sees in you. You're nothing, Wentworth. It's going to be worth the company losing money when your deal falls apart…just so I can watch the board remove you.” 

“We'll see, Wendell.” 

“Yes we will.” Wendell walked out the door. 

With Jeremy gone, Rex turned to Kaitlin.

“Don't even bother, Rex. I am not interested. I may not like my father, but I agree with him. Your deal is going to cost you Weststar, and I for one…can't wait to see you lose it all.” 

Rex was shocked to hear those words come from her. He watched her leave, and decided that if things would ever work out for him, two things were crucial. The first was that he find a way to mend fences with Kaitlin. The other was that the African deal goes through smoothly so that he could rub it in Wendell's face. 

Rex took his cell phone from his inner jacket pocket, pulled the address book up, and dialed his contact in the Energy department. As he waited for someone to answer, he went out onto the balcony, and looked at the city's skyline. Not far away, he could see the Ewing Oil building. He noticed that from his vantage point at the top of the Weststar building he found himself looking down on Ewing Oil. Rex laughed at the sheer irony of it. Even the buildings know you're going down, Ewing.  

What Rex didn't know was that Dent was calling someone at that very moment too. He waited for the familiar voice as his car pulled out of the parking garage. 

“Yeah, it's me. You'll never believe this." Dent's Porsche tore down the highway as he relayed all the details of the meeting. 

As he headed down the hall toward the Neonatal Unit, he almost, literally, ran into Cliff. “Bobby! Hey, how're you doin'?” Cliff didn't wait for an answer. “It's turning out to be a beautiful day!”

Bobby's jaw dropped, Cliff's audacity never ceased to amaze him. “I didn't think you'd be in such a good mood with the news about Afton.”

Cliff blinked, and stared blankly at him for a moment, then, as if realizing what he had said, “Bobby that destroyed me, it really did. But you can't dwell on the past forever, you know.”

“It was only a couple of days ago, Cliff.”

“Yeah, well…, I've got more reasons to be happy than sad now. Becky's home!”

“Becky?”

“That's what Pamela Rebecca is calling herself now. Cute, isn't it?”

“Sorry Cliff, but I don't see the news of another one of your children in town as something to celebrate.”

Cliff snorted. “At least Pam will be happy for me.”

Bobby reached out and grabbed him roughly by the arm. “No, Cliff. You can't see her right now.”

Cliff shook off Bobby's hand. “You know, I'm getting sick of you telling me what I can't do.”

“She's been heavily sedated… one of the twins, B.J., died last night.”

“Oh… well, Bobby, that's no surprise, is it? I mean, no one expected them to live in the first place. But, hey, at least you still have the other one.”

Bobby grimaced. Cliff's cavalier attitude toward him and Pam's son was quickly fanning his angry into rage. “You really don't care about anyone but yourself, do you Cliff? If your world is fine, then everyone's should be. You don't worry about showing compassion for anyone, because it might ruin your good mood.”

Cliff spread his hands in front of him. “Look, Bobby, I'm sorry about the kid. As for Pam, I won't even mention it when I see her. I'm here because I have business to discuss with her.”

“Business? That's just perfect. That's the last thing she needs right now. What kind of business?”

“The only kind that matters, I need oil.”

Bobby fixed him with a dark, flat glare. “Then I'm the one you talk to. Pam and I are legally partners at Wentworth.”

“What?! She gave half of my mother's company to a Ewing!”

“Her mother too, Cliff.” Cliff stood there dumbfounded. Bobby turned to go, but after a few steps, he turned back to Cliff. “And about that oil, you can forget it. It's not a good idea to make deals with relatives… you can thank your son for that!”

Bobby walked off, leaving Cliff shaking his head. Why should he suffer because of what Eric did? Besides, Eric's plan had failed miserably. Damned if he'd ever understand the way Bobby Ewing's mind worked.

“It doesn't matter if you don't agree with me, but you are my cousin and best friend and you should let me cry on your shoulder if I want to.”

“Okay…I can see your point about Manny. You're in love with the guy and he's not in love with you. That's what? The first time that's ever happened to you? You are so used to getting anything you want, even guys. You are pretty…you're popular…likeable. You're J.R. Ewing's daughter. Everybody wants to be your friend and almost any guy would kill for a date with you. Just not Manny, and so, of course, he has to be the one you want.” Margaret pulled off her other ice skates and put them on the bench next to her.

Jill hardly heard anything Margaret said except for the last sentence about Manny. “What are you getting at?”

“You have all those things going for you, yet you still complain and to be perfectly honest, I don't feel sorry for you! Not at all.”

Jillian was shocked. This was not like Margaret to be so outspoken. “Ok…” was all she could say.

“Know why? Because I've never had a boyfriend; I've never even had a cute guy look in my direction, unless of course you were standing next to me. And if they do look at me, it's to make fun of me for being a geek.”

“Nobody makes fun of you…”

“Not when you're around. No guy wants to ruin his chances with you by being seen treating your best-friend like complete dirt.” Margaret hesitated for a moment. “So now do you see why I get so upset hearing you cry over not having Manny? You don't realize how good you've got it. And prom is right around the corner…and you'll have a date…it may not be Manny but it'll be some guy that looks just as good…that's just as sweet…and you know what I'll have?”

Jillian shook her head.

“Nothing. I'll sit at home working on some stupid project for the political science club, using that as an excuse for why I can't go to the prom, when in reality, it's because no guy in his right mind would ask me.”

Jillian pulled Margaret into a hug. “I'm so sorry. I didn't realize what I was saying was upsetting you so badly.”

“It's okay.”

“No, it's not okay. I just wish you'd said something before now. I didn't know you felt that way.”

“How sweet…” From behind them had come a third voice that Jill instantly recognized as Isabel's. She looked up to see her standing there with a shopping bag in her hand. “So Jillian…drive anymore cars into the Southfork pool?” she asked, her voice full of spite.

Did Isabel somehow find out that she and Manny were behind that? It didn't matter, she intended to play dumb anyway. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Not a very convincing liar Jill…I know you and Manny pulled that stunt to get me kicked off Southfork and out of Dallas, but unfortunately for you, I'm not leaving this town. There are plenty of other jobs out there without working for you spoiled Ewings at your little mansion.”

Margaret, still fired up from her talk with Jill, decided to add her two cents. “Oh, yes, that's right, you've moved on to more glamorous things, like waiting tables at that little diner on the outskirts of town?”

It was Isabel's turn to play dumb. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“My brother said he saw you there a couple of days ago. You ran into the back just as he was coming in…”

Jillian smiled. “Isabel, were you ashamed for Lucas to see you there?”

Isabel ignored her question and glared at Margaret. Damn her for mentioning this in front of Jillian. “Speaking of Lucas…tell him that I'll be stopping by to see him soon.” She patted the shopping bag under her arm and then walked off, leaving Margaret to wonder what she meant by that.

"…and if you could have all the details to me by Friday of this week, I think we should be able to sign..." Sue Ellen said. "Alright, thanks Jim...I'll talk to you later in the week. Bye." She turned to J.R., who sat grinning on the plush couch. "J.R., please tell me this isn't about Africa."

He shook his head. "No, it's not, but I've got something almost as good...well, not quite, but it's still an opportunity that I don't think we should pass on."

"Oh? Well, don't keep me in suspense!"

"Remember Gordon Davis?" He asked. Of course she did; he'd been the original owner and founder of Weststar oil...long before the days of Jeremy Wendell or Carter McKay. He'd set out with Jock way back in the 30's and had built the company into a superpower, before going public. "Well," J.R. continued, "his little wife called me up just now... she must be 90 years old by now! Anyway, she was sayin' how she thinks the board of Davis Gas is takin' advantage of her, and she asked if maybe I could fly down there and take a look at the books for her, and find out what's happening..." He explained.

"Wonderful! But why in the world would she ask you to do that?" Sue Ellen exclaimed, with mock excitement.

J.R. looked at her with irritation. "Hell, Sue Ellen, I don't know. Maybe she remembers Daddy, 'cause you know, Gordy was one of Daddy's best friends way back then, or maybe she's just senile. I don't know… and I don't care. I told her I'd do it. And if I find out the company's solid, we could make her an offer."

"Why would we want Davis Gas? There're only, what, three or four stations in Waco?"

"Exactly..." he said with a smile and a twinkle in his eye. "Will you just trust me?" He held up his hand, as if taking an oath. "I promise you, I have nothing but good intentions."

She sighed. "Alright; but as long as you're determined to make this such a mystery, I may as well come along to look after my interest."

"Fine with me. I was planning on flying over there for the weekend... so you'll be with me about 24 hours a day for three days." He smiled his most innocent smile, which wasn't very innocent at all.

This is totally against my better judgment... she thought to herself. "That sounds fine. But don't get you hopes set on 24 hours a day. I want separate hotel rooms - and nothing funny. If you try anything, I swear, I'll..."

She continued on her typical rant. J.R. soon tired of pretending he was listening. He excused himself from the room and went back into his office. Seconds later, the intercom buzzed. He tapped the toggle switch. "I'm..." he started, but he was cut off.

"...If you do anything underhanded, I'll make you regret it..." Sue Ellen finished. "Have a good evening, J.R."

The intercom snapped off and J.R. Ewing leaned back in his expensive leather chair; putting his feet up on his desk, he smiled his shark's grin and then laughed out loud. “That's just fine, Sue Ellen, you go ahead and think you're running the show, as long as you don't get in my way.”

CREDITS ROLL