Dana Bright wasn't exactly what you would call a shy woman. When she saw what she wanted, she grabbed it. When she was growing up in lower Maine all of the other boys made fun of her. She never played jump-rope or dolly with the other girls and instead jumped into whatever the boys were doing with all of the assertiveness of an army sergeant. When she first moved to Maine, all of the boys in the neighborhood called Dana names like "freckle-face" and "carrot-top." Dana just looked at them with an air of superiority, making the strongest boys flinch. They quickly learned to stay out of the way of the red headed Genghis Khan of the neighborhood.
When she was six the neighborhood boys set up a lemonade stand in the summer to earn money for the latest bikes in style. By the time she was seven Dana had not only taken over the stand, but had been so persistent in her sales that all of the kids on her block had earned enough money to buy their bikes by the fall. When she was in high school her parents and teachers all shook their heads and smiled when confronted with the latest news about how Dana had forced the flagging school administration to allow her to start up her own school paper by pestering them for months until they gave in.
It was this persistence and indominatable attitude that first caught the eye of her editor, and that was what quickly propelled her through the ranks to become the star reporter of the Bangor Daily News. This was also what forced the Bangor police force to give her grudging respect for the way she handled her interviewees, wrangling them verbally until they told all. It was this attitude that caused the sheriff to institute a No Talking to Reporters Before Morning Coffee policy, and it was also this attitude that caused the entire town to start walking the other way when they saw Dana Bright coming.
Dana always got what she wanted, with or without permission. But now there was something that she possibly couldn't have.
Or rather, someone.
Someone with piercing blue eyes that could look right into you and through you and make a woman feel like she's drowning in those depths . . .
Dana has never really believed in love at first sight. And until meeting a certain Johnny Smith she's never really believed in love either.
This is possibly the oddest situation that Dana's ever faced. She wants something and she can't have it, at least not right away. She sees the way Johnny still looks at Sarah and she sees the way Sarah still looks at Johnny even though she's married for God's sake! And she didn't miss the way Sarah had snubbed her in the school hallway when she had asked for an interview with Johnny. She's been snubbed thousands of times in her career, and has always found a way to make those people pay with her sharp tongue. But when Sarah does it, its ten times worse. She can't do or say anything that could possibly endanger her situation with Johnny, even if Sarah is in her way.
She's liking that woman less and less.
Sarah isn't the only thing that bothers her. What bothers her is why she even wants Johnny in the first place. Sure, she's been attracted to some men before, but never to this extent. And in the past relationships were used to get something; a headline before another reporter got it, an expose that could pad her pockets for a few more weeks and feed her smug grin.
But why Johnny, she wonders as she stands in the Dodd's front yard, surrounded by snapping cameras and other frustrated reporters who couldn't get an interview because somehow she has managed to coerce the entire police force into giving an interview to her and only her.
She looks at Johnny as he shifts uncomfortably under the scrutiny of the cameras and tries to get away. Her words were said to mildly mock, but they were true. He was the shy, self-effacing American hero right down to his boots, the first she's seen in her years of reporting in this day and age. What's so special about him?
At first she thought that it was his visions, but she never even believed in them at first, and isn't quite sure whether she believes in them now, although even Bannerman admitted that he couldn't have cracked the case without Johnny.
Then she thought that it might be his hair, and the way it glinted in the sun.
Or maybe his shy smile and the way you just wanted him to keep smiling so that you could watch his entire face light up.
Or maybe it was the air around him, this charismatic aura that seemed to make everyone take a second look at this seemingly unobtrusive man.
Or maybe it was just the way he treated her the first time he saw her, with actual respect and politeness, something that Dana didn't see too much of nowadays.
Dana eyes Johnny's retreating form speculatively as he tries to ignore the other reporters and steps into the waiting ambulance. She shrugged.
It certainly didn't hurt that he had a nice ass.
Sarah Bannerman flicked the t.v. on as she chopped the carrots for dinner. She stopped suddenly as news of the days events reached her ears. Sarah watched in awe as the anchor reported the end of the Bangor serial killer and the role of Sheriff Bannerman and Johnny Smith in his demise.
She was proud of both of her men, especially Johnny. She had no doubt that those visions of his was what let Walt to the killer's home.
The anchor switched to a live view of the Dodd home and Sarah watched proudly as Johnny shyly tried to step out of the cameras view, and as the reporters shouted out pleas for an interview. One reporter's silent, smug grin drew her eye and she nearly chopped off her finger in shock. She dropped everything, letting the carrots fall to the floor as she stared at the television, incredulously.
Did she just see that Bright woman checking out Johnny's butt???