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[Author's Note: First off, I was in the middle of writing Part 18 when I realized that I had excluded Pamila, the fox, from the plot. It made me realize that I still had unfinished business to deal with. The "reunion" story will have to wait a little longer. Instead, here are three short stories that tie up loose ends. Secondly, I feel some reference is in order to avoid confusion. To get the background on Mariana, read parts 16 and 17. To better understand what happened with "the tigers," see part 15. To read why Pamila's may be in trouble, Part 5. Enjoy.]

Venom: Beautiful Killers. Part 18.

"...tethered...."

"I was only five feet, eight inches tall, but I was faster, had better hand-eye coordination, and better hockey sense than the other goalie. That's why I started every game in junior year. I once got five shutouts in a row. I had the conference's best goals against average, the most saves, and a couple of assists. In senior year, we were favorites to go all the way and the scouts knew it. They came to every game we played that year, and they saw me in action. I played my heart out, and in the end, we were one game short of winning it all. Even though we weren't champions, we got a whole bunch of other awards. I thought I had my future in college hockey all taken care of. I thought I would go pro before too long. But those scouts, they...um...why are you stopping?"

Mariana has just parked. "We're home, silly." She laughs as she opens the door on her side of her relatively new two-door sedan. "Time to stretch."

Tobias nods in agreement and steps out onto the driveway. Once he stands, he feels a stinger on his lower back. He tries to rub it as best he can, yawning loudly. "You've got a nice house." He smiles and turns to her. His mouth drops open at what he sees.

The Maltese is standing on the balls of her feet. Her arms are stretched well above her head and her fingers are interlocked together. Unwittingly, she exposes her ample chest in front of the young man. She remains in that position for ten long seconds, inhaling the night air through her nostrils. Once she lowers her hands, she exhales just as loudly. "Thanks for the compliment. It's a duplex, but there's no one else in there right now. In fact, most of the neighborhood's on vacation." She closes the car door and fumbles for her keys. "You can continue."

He's still looking at her chest. "I...I can?"

"Yeah. You were talking about your playing days. You don't look like a hockey player."

Tobias scoffs. "The scouts didn't think so either. I heard it everywhere I went in school. I was good on the ice, but it didn't matter. 'You're too small. You'll never play in college. Even if you did, you'll never be the first choice.' I heard that enough times that I was discouraged. Even though I continued playing, even though I...um...are you listening?"

Mariana has her keys in the doorknob. "Yeah, of course." She giggles as she pushes the front door open. "Well, don't just stand there. Come on in."

He pushes the passenger-side door closed and runs in behind his host, almost bumping into her. He gets to see more of her wagging tail as she turns on the lights.

"I love this place," she sighs. "I just wish I knew how to live here now that I don't have a job anymore."

He looks up. "What do you mean?"

"Well...it's expensive to live here. With a job, this place was mine. I had freedom. Now...." She looks around the room. Her giddiness is quickly replaced with worry. The living room looks like any other in America. There's wall-to-wall carpeting, a long couch with a couple of chairs beside it, a coffee table in front of the ensemble, and a big-screen television in front of them all. There are a few feminine touches to the place. A couple of landscape paintings hang on the wall behind the couch. A couple of potted plants are sitting on the windowsill to the left of them. On the couch are a couple of pink, frilly pillows that clash alarmingly with most of the room.

His hands in his pockets, Tobias nods in agreement with the arrangement. "I like this."

She says nothing. Instead, she covers her mouth with her left hand. Her eyes open wide and a soft gasp escapes. Her right hand and arm go limp at her side. She turns her head swiftly as she steps forward, taking in the bright surroundings. For some reason, she runs through the living room and into the next room ahead.

The boy doesn't know whether to follow her or stay put. "Are you okay?" he asks timidly.

Turning on the lights, Mariana pokes her head through the doorway. She smiles at him, though it seems a little forced. "Fine. Just fine. Come on in, and I'll make you something." She has just entered the kitchen. It is untouched from when she last left it. There are a couple of pots and a sponge on the table.

Tobias is still unsure, but he creeps toward the opening. "I don't want to be any trouble."

She smirks and goes to her left, opening the refrigerator. "You're my guest...and my friend. I'm gonna cook you something for dinner. It that's what you call trouble, I'll take it any day of the week."

"Well, you don't actually have to cook if it will stress you out. I'm thinking you've had a long enough day. If you've got any leftovers, I'll settle for those." Showing concern, he enters the kitchen, looking around carefully. There is a shiny, granite counter on one side of the room. In the center is a small, stainless steel sink with a sleek-looking faucet hanging above it. The cabinets above her look brand new as well. They are made of a reddish-brown wood, a stark contrast from the rest of the white kitchen. On the windowsills of this room are the same kinds of potted plants in the kitchen. "This is real nice."

Mariana pulls a covered casserole dish from the refrigerator. "You should see the dining room. It's to your right. Are you sure you don't want something fresh? Something from scratch?"

"No, anything you have is fine." He enters the dining room and finds the light switch. Once it is turned on, he discovers a very warm, cozy, expensive-looking room. The table in the middle of the room is deep brown with a nice finish. There is a bowl of fruit, mostly apples and grapes, at its center. He takes an apple and looks around. A chandelier brightens the room. On one side is a large display cabinet, about twice as tall as he is, displaying exotic-looking plates of many sizes and shapes. Most of them have intricate patterns that make them too pretty to eat from.

Tobias sits on one of the mahogany chairs, looking around him and waiting for his host to grace the room. He nods, seemingly impressed with his surroundings. "Do you live alone?"

"Zesty would stay with me on occasion, but yeah, I live by myself. Why do you ask?"

He does not answer, but smiles as he eats his apple. His face displays an anticipatory grin that shows how happy he is to be there.

About fifteen minutes later, Mariana has warmed up something for dinner. While Tobias simply sits in his place, looking like the master of the house, she brings in the plates, napkins, tumblers, and silverware. As he watches her prepare, he tries to groom himself as well as he can. He runs his hands through his short, black hair, trying to straighten it. He blows on and wipes his glasses. He tries to straighten any folds on his shirt. He even examines his shoes. When the host arrives to serve the food, he quickly stops what he is doing.

Once they start to eat, things settle down even more. They each sit on one side of the dining room table. Tobias relaxes and unties his shoes. Mariana lowers the zipper on her motorcycle jersey. "You're gonna eat with that thing on?" he asks.

"Around you, I don't have to be formal. If you were my dad, or someone from work, I'd put something on. But you don't care what I wear, do you?" She laughs while waiting for an answer. This causes him to laugh as well. "You like pasta?"

"Of course." He digs in without much delay. In front of the couple is a meatless spaghetti with marinara sauce. There are chunks in the sauce that could either be vegetables or mushrooms. Whatever it is does not matter to Tobias. Right now, he is where he wants to be. If he were served broken glass for dinner, he would be eating that. "This is good," he says.

"Thanks. I'm not much for vegetarian food, but Zesty's recipes are usually good. I have learned a lot from her. I eat better because of her, so I'm healthier today than I ever was. I'm stronger because of her too, and that's without using that stupid weight room in the cafeteria. She's the best...well, second best thing to happen to me in my life." She rapidly taps her foot on the floor. "In fact, I could even leave L.A. because of her." She puts some spaghetti in her mouth.

"I don't think she liked me very much."

"Of course she liked you."

"It didn't look like it. I think she just tolerated me. I mean, she wasn't as brutal as the rest of the guys. She'd say hi whenever I said hi. But we never really talked beyond that. At least she'd just get out of the way when I was cleaning a room, instead of making fun of me."

"You're being underestimated. Those guys don't know how important you are to the workplace. You're the kind of person they'll miss when you go to college." She watches him nod as she takes a drink. "Speaking of which, you are still going to college, right? I mean, you just can't let the fact that you can't play hockey anymore stop you."

"I don't know. I'm much better at hockey than at academics."

Mariana digs at her food, deep in thought. "You know, I watch hockey. I'm a big fan. Do you know how many professional hockey players today are below six-two?" She watches the boy turn to her with anticipation. "Zero," she answers. "Not one. Sorry to burst your bubble, kiddo, but even if college hockey had worked out for you, you'd spend years in the minors before you got a chance in the big leagues. Scouts just don't take chances like that anymore. If you're as fast as you say you are, your best chance as a pro would probably be at center. Even then, you'd probably be the world's smallest." She watches the boy carefully, hoping he is not too devastated. He is still nodding, trying to understand everything being said. She tilts her head in concern. "You all right?"

He swallows, then drops his fork. He has the look of someone who has just awakened from a deep sleep. "I guess...." He sniffs and shrugs as he searches for the right words. "I guess you're right."

She reaches across the table and touches his right hand with her left. "Hey, I was honest with you. That's what friends do for each other. I believe you can play in goal, but I also believe you shouldn't get your hopes too high. There may be someone who'll give you a chance, but it's going to be really difficult. However, if you hit the books, you could be really great at many things."

He shakes his head. "Like what exactly?"

The Maltese releases his hand. "How about English teacher?"

"Huh?"

"See Spot. See Spot run. Run, Spot, run!"

Tobias laughs, shyly turning his face away from her. "I've forgotten about that."

"If you can teach me to read, I'd say you have a bright future teaching other people to speak English." With the mood as light as it could ever be, she pours them both some grape juice. "I think you'd be great at it."

"Since we're being honest and everything, can I ask you something?"

She shrugs while she digs in. "Sure."

"How did you become asexual? I mean, how does that happen?"

The infectious smile that has pretty much become her trademark disappears. Mariana looks at the boy with wide eyes and a surprised mouth. Suddenly she frowns and looks down. Her ears droop even lower than before as she scrapes the bottom of her plate with her fork.

Almost immediately, Tobias regrets his act. "I'm sorry. Was that too soon? I'm sorry." He reaches across the table. His hands barely touch hers.

"No, it's all right. I had a feeling when I first told you that...that I might have said too much. Don't worry about it."

The mood sours, and the rest of the meal does not seem to taste as good to either of them. The teenager and the white dog barely look at each other as they finish. He looks dreadfully apologetic while she looks like she has been given bad news. They remain quiet for the next five or so minutes.

Suddenly, she stands. "You done?" she asks. He nods his answer and hands her his plate. "If you want to watch television, you're free to do so. I'm gonna get out of these clothes." She now sounds more like a mother than a friend.

Tobias mouths "I'm sorry," but does not vocalize. It hardly matters now; it seems the damage has been done. She clears the table, barely paying attention to him. He picks up his glass in a rather pathetic attempt to help her. He continues to hold it, watching her enter the kitchen to wash the dishes. Slowly, he trudges to the living room, looking hopeless and alone.

The living room is spacious, but warm and inviting. Its colors and decorations are pleasing to the eye. Soon, Tobias forgets about what happened earlier and marvels at the fancy furniture. He runs his hands across the top of the couch and feels one of the frilly pillows. It looks so unlike the rest of the couch, he cannot help but laugh a little bit. Soon, she sees the remote control and rushes to turn the television on. When he picks it up, however, he spies something on top of it. A closer look reveals a small, framed picture of Mariana and Zesty, mugging for the camera. They have their arms around each other's shoulders and the Maltese has her tongue sticking out. (I have no idea what Zesty is, but the longer muzzle and her frilly fur could mean she's of a foreign breed.) He picks up the picture and stares at it for a while. Carefully, he touches Mariana's face.

After a few minutes of silent wishing, he replaces the picture and turns the television on. He adjusts the volume to his liking and sits on the couch. The cushions are soft and malleable, causing him to easily sink into them. At first, he likes the feeling, but the more he tries to get comfortable, the softer it seems to get. While channel surfing, he decides to leave the couch and sit on the floor.

The movie Tobias is watching has his full attention. It is engrossing enough that he soon starts taking back to the screen. Suddenly, the Maltese appears, slowly strolling into the room. He does not notice her at first, but then she stands over him, hands on hips and a smile back on her face.

Mariana is wearing pink shorts, perfect for sleeping in, and a green sports bra. It is a weird combination; her bottom half looks ready to go to bed while her top half looks ready to go jogging. The fact that she has a guest probably prevents her from totally dressing in regular evening wear. "Enjoying yourself?"

The startled young man looks up at the imposing figure above him. He is sitting at the foot of the couch, with his legs under the coffee table. His position makes him completely unprepared to greet her.

Mariana sits on the couch, right next to her guest. "I'm not much for mob moves, but I used to do that for a living. I guess I should see the experts at work, huh?"

He ogles her for a couple of seconds before quickly turning his head back to the television. Now he is trying very hard to not stare at her. Nervously, he chooses to look down, getting a good look at her feet. Without her shoes, she looks smaller in stature. Her feet are dainty and short. No corns, no calluses. They hardly look like they belong to a seasoned killer.

Tobias inhales, then bravely looks at her. "You smell good," he says, before quickly turning back to the television.

"Showers are supposed to do that." She sits on the sofa and leans back, stretching her arms across the top. It doesn't look like she is mad anymore. "I feel better after I've had one. I think clearer too."

His breathing slowly quickens and his hands start to shake. In an attempt to remain calm, he drops the remote beside him and digs his clasped hands into his lap. It does not help that she shifts her position, moving closer until her right leg is touching his left shoulder.

"You know who you remind me of?" She is not looking at him, but nudges his left leg with her foot. "You remind me of my last boyfriend. I've been trying not to think of him, but you're the first male in my house since he was here. So I can't help it. I have no more physical reminders of him in here, and the last few months of my life have been occupied with marks and hunting, so I haven't had any opportunities to...." She stops to notice the boy. She chuckles at what she sees.

He is sitting there, rigid and wide-eyed. His tight fists are clamped against his crotch. His legs are straight as boards. It looks like he is trying to decide whether to watch TV or look at his friend.

Mariana seems touched by his nervousness. Playfully, she moves even closer to him, then carefully drapes her right leg over his left shoulder. He briefly sneaks a look at her brilliant, perfect, white leg, before forcefully turning his head back to the TV. She starts to rub his left thigh with her right foot.

"Relax," she says. Her foot scrunches, grabbing his trousers. She gently feels the cotton blend between her toes. "If you're still worried about earlier, it's all right. I wasn't mad. I was just...floored by what you asked. I wasn't taking it out on you or anything. Okay?"

Tobias says nothing. He probably heard everything she said, but is not showing it. He keeps his eyes focused on the movie and his limbs as still as possible.

Confused, the Maltese lifts her leg. Clearly, the boy is not relaxing. In fact, he is more nervous than ever. "Hmm. All right." She leaves the couch and sits next to him on the floor. "Look at me. I want to tell you something." She stares at him, waiting for him to respond. Seconds later, she puts her right arm around him.

Now he turns to her, looking as businesslike as possible. He presses his lips together and inhales through his nose. "Sorry," he says. "I thought you were mad at me, and since you kill people, I thought that--"

"Shh. Listen." Her hands reach up to his face and remove his spectacles. "I've told you that you remind me of my old flame." She puts the glasses on his lap. "His name is Paul. He was a junior in high school, and I was working on the job Zesty found for me. I was an assistant in the flower shop close to the school. When we met, he told me he hadn't seen anyone like me before. He was an asshole who flirted with all the girls in the school. A lot of them came to the flower shop, so he'd go there too. When he first saw me, he was persistent. He would patronize me with compliments and cheesy pickup lines. I told him to go away more than once. He'd come back the next day. Then he'd come back the day after that, and the day after that...." She strokes the back of his neck with her fingers, jolting him for a second. "I was attached at the time, to a black Lab, but that relationship was almost at its end."

He turns back to the TV, but is clearly warming up to her presence. "You said I reminded you of him. Is he human?"

She nods and smiles wider. "Yes, he is. He's of mixed race, like you, only his mother's Black, not Asian. Mom homeschooled me until I was fifteen. She always told me that humans were something to tolerate as you went about your life, and nothing more than that. So I tolerated them. When Paul showed interest in me, I couldn't believe it, but I dismissed it just the same. A few weeks later, he stayed late and helped me close. As much as I tried to ignore him, I was able to go home earlier than normal. The next day was Friday, and instead of telling him to buzz off, I actually invited him in. It helped that he cut his hair that day." She puts her hands on her lap and lowers her head, no longer looking at the boy.

Tobias now turns to her, scanning her up and down. He shifts his position until their shoulders are touching. "He sounds nice," he says.

"Yeah." Her tone changes. It is more sad and contemplative instead of happy. "He was tall, dark, and...well, he was beautiful. Whenever he wasn't trying to pick up women, he could become quite endearing. On those days, we'd talk while I worked." She puts her right hand on his clasped hands. "He really wasn't all that bad. Then on the day I turned eighteen, I asked him out. My latest relationship had ended, and I was ready to move on. I thought I'd give Paul a chance. That's when I found out that...he may know how to flirt, but he knew nothing about relationships or women in general. In fact, when I finally got close to him, he acted just like you're acting now."

The young man's hands are shaking slightly and his breathing picks up once again. Not knowing quite what to do, he keeps his eyes away from her.

Her right foot slowly rubs his left. "Paul had the pickup lines, but was completely inexperienced. Typical man. On the other hand, I had four boyfriends before him, so I knew about relationships. I knew what I wanted. I initiated almost everything--where to hang out, where to eat, what to wear, even whose car to take. After years of following my boyfriends' leads, now I was making the decisions." Her voice softens and she leans closer to him. Her nose barely touches the boy's left cheek. "My approach was firm, but not domineering. A couple of months later, we were in love." Her muzzle closes in on Tobias' ear. "Even Zesty liked him, and she doesn't care for humans. Four years ago, when I moved away from home, she helped me move in here. I wasn't a minor anymore, I was independent, and there was finally a place where Paul and I could share time alone."

Tobias sighs quickly, still too stiff to look at her. His mouth opens as she starts to stroke his hair.

"That summer, Paul graduated. Instead of partying with friends, he came to me. We had a nice dinner and I invited him here. He accepted right away. I told him I had a surprise for him...two surprises. First was the duplex, of course. He liked it very much. For surprise number two, I took off my blouse and approached him. I told him I wanted to lie with him." She observes him carefully for a reaction. He is still frozen in place. She chuckles. "I've had sex before, and it was all right, but it wasn't on my terms. It was more of a rebellion against my parents. With Paul, I made the first move. I leaned in close and told him to sleep with me." Her nose brushes the young man's left ear. "Actually, it was more like...'Please make love to me.'"

Suddenly, she gently holds Tobias' shoulders with her hands. She starts to kiss and suck on his earlobe, releasing soft moans and soft breaths. The boy looks mortified. A sharp gasp escapes his mouth and his hands claw at the carpet. This sensation is completely new to him. Not only is there a tongue on his ear, but her breasts are on his shoulder. Her feet are on top of his.

Half a minute passes. She gives his earlobe one last flick with the tip of her tongue. "He wasted no time and carried me upstairs. I think you can guess what happened next." Still holding on to him, she backs away. "I told you that you remind me of Paul. When we first met, he was a punk. I didn't think much of him. But after I grounded him, he turned into a fine young man. You are exactly the same. When I first saw you, I didn't think much of you either. You came to work, pretty much ignoring everybody." She places both hands on either side of his face and turns his head until their eyes meet. "But since we've come to know one another, you've also turned into a fine young man." She kisses and licks his nose, then leans her head on his shoulder as she turns her attention toward the TV.

While her hands are all over him, his remain at his sides. There is a lovely, passionate moment happening here that is completely befuddling him. He's never had an arm around his waist before. His eyes dart everywhere, from the TV to her feet, to her back and breasts. He opens his mouth to say something, but all that comes out is a quiet stutter.

"Relax," she says again.

He leans back on the couch and closes his eyes. Now that he is still, she digs into him even more than before. She is close to sitting on his lap. The fingers of his left hand creep on her naked thighs and start to rub them gently. He goes no further, however, and they start to really watch the movie.

About five minutes later, the boy's nervousness seems to have dissipated. There may be blood and gore on the screen, but it is tempered by the good vibes in the room. He smiles and looks at his friend, comforting thoughts slowly creeping in to his mind. His confidence bolstered, he boldly asks, "So what's happened to him?"

Her smile vanishes and she waits to answer. She is still holding him, but there are small signs that hint she is starting to pull away. He can feel it and quickly, firmly presses his hand on her thigh, trying hard to hang on to his soft, beautiful prize. They watch the movie silently until it ends.

When the credits roll, she suddenly straightens herself. "He...um...." She shakes her head and exhales loudly. "He died. He was killed." She releases the boy and looks at him. "He was a mark." She stands up to remove the DVD from the player, leaving Tobias looking longingly at her. His eyes are begging her to return to him.

She leaves the disc on top of the television. After turning it off, she returns to her place next to Tobias, looking at him with an honest, urgent face. "It was six months after I moved in here. We were making love off and on; we had so many beautiful moments together. He was here so much that he was thinking of moving in with me, which was a very big deal for me; he would help pay the bills and everything. I came back from work around four and sat here in the living room, waiting for his usual afternoon visit. A couple of hours later, Zesty called. Paul was shot and killed at home. He was found by his parents." Her mouth starts to quiver, causing her to move up to the couch. Tobias quickly joins her.

"Sorry," she says. "You know me. I'm very sensitive. So, as you can imagine, I was depressed for many days afterwards. In her sweet attempt to cheer me up, Zesty took me out...a lot. Nothing was working. Depression turned to anger, and soon I was angry at everyone, mom and dad included. They were never happy I was dating a human, and even less so when they knew how much I was pining for him. I took my anger out on them...unfairly, and in time, I was taking it out on Zesty. As a result, she did the strangest thing. She took me to her workplace. Her thinking was that instead of transferring my anger on innocent people, I could take it out on those who deserved it." She starts to smile, causing Tobias to back away a little.

"She took me to the Rapid Recovery building, where I soon learned that it was more than just a bunch of loan offices. She introduced me to Shiloh, Vivian, Ted, and some other workers. Turns out, she had told them about me a couple of weeks before, so they were ready to meet me. Long story short, I joined in less than a week. I liked the money, the camaraderie, even the bosses. Most importantly, I liked the thought of dishing out vengeance. Soon, I was treating every mark like the sorry son of a bitch who murdered Paul."

"Wait a minute." Tobias can feel himself shaking again. "You said Paul was a mark. But you've ended up working with the same people that killed him."

"I didn't know that when I started working with them. After a couple of months on the job, I had killed, maybe, four people. I had made about twenty grand. As weird as it was, I liked doing it. Zesty was my handler, so I learned how to be stealthy and deadly. I thought nothing about killing and I had managed to move on from Paul. One day, I was on my way to get my pay from the conference room when I overheard...two of the workers talking. I was about to enter when I heard Paul's name. Paul Benson. I listened carefully as they talked about him; they described him perfectly. Apparently, payment on Paul's killing had been delayed. Whoever killed him would be getting paid the very next day. When they stopped talking, I ran into the restroom to hide and to see who was going to come out. Shiloh came out...." She closes her eyes and sighs.

"Shiloh killed him?"

"Maybe. The thing is I never saw who he was talking to, so I don't know if he did it. When he went to the lobby, I followed him, making sure he didn't notice me. I followed him until he went into his car and left. When I went back inside, I remembered that he was talking to someone, but he was gone when I went to the conference room." Her mouth starts to quiver again. "So it was either Shiloh or...someone else."

"You wanted to kill him, didn't you?"

She shakes her head. "First of all, if you want to kill Shiloh, good luck. His looks alone could stop any bullet. More importantly, he rarely ever showed up at the office. Most times, he would take more than one mark, so he would be out hunting for days and days. He was never around, so it would be tough to get at him anyway. Besides, he's been nothing but nice to me and Zesty. If I wanted to kill him, I had to fight the urge to be nice."

Tobias watches on with concern, noting every word, every inflection, every emotional change. He is so wrapped up in her words that he is nodding every time she speaks. But he really wants to hold her again.

"It took a while, but we did finally meet...weeks after Paul's death. I had just arrived and I spotted him leaving the building. I carefully brought up the subject, asking him if he heard about a guy named Paul Benson. He told me he was a mark, and before I could continue, he told me right away that we don't ever discuss past marks. That's one of the rules of the workplace. So I could never ask him who picked Paul from the photos. He'd never tell me." She covers her face with her hands. "You don't know how hard it is to curb your anger at someone when he's staring right at you. It was all I could do to keep it together."

"You never found out who he was talking to?"

Mariana turns to him, trying to appear strong and unyielding. "Not directly. But I've narrowed it down to one person. I never forget a voice. Shiloh was talking to a male worker; brash, cocky, with a voice that sounded...effeminate. None of the other workers sounded like that. That could only mean one thing. It was Seneca's voice."

"Who?"

Anger creeps across her face. "Shiloh's brother. You wouldn't know him. Seneca also took multiple marks and he traveled further than anyone. We wouldn't see him for weeks on end. If the bosses needed someone to go to the other side of the States to get a mark, he would do it without hesitation. I ran into him exactly three times before Paul's death. Sadly enough, after he died, I never saw Seneca even once." She leans her head back and starts to sob. "So, it was one of the brothers that killed him. I couldn't get vengeance when I knew. Now that I'm no longer there, I never can."

Before Tobias can say anything comforting, she again covers her face with her hands. She is not bawling, but her unsuccessful attempt at stifling her sobs is getting her there. He moves closer to her and puts an arm around her shoulders. He is as close as he wants to be, but the situation is not to his liking.

The white dog quickly tries to compose herself and leans on him. "I'm going back home; back to Fresno. The money's no longer coming, so I'll move in with Zesty and get a decent job. I love this house, but every time I'm here, I see my love coming down the stairs. I get drunk, then I get hallucinations with him taking center stage. I can't take it."

"But you can't leave."

The boy's words surprise her. She sits up straight and turns to him. Her emotional pain doesn't seem to register with him. "What's that?"

Fighting the urge to cower, he looks at her with a bold, stubborn glare. His hands and his breath are still shaky, but he is absolutely determined not to look away. "I wouldn't know what to do if you left. I still have to work with those guys, those killers. Without you, I couldn't face them. I couldn't stand up to them. I couldn't--"

"But that's not your job. You don't have to face anybody. You go in, you clean the offices, the restrooms, the cafeteria, and then you go home. That's all. Besides, they don't even get in your way anymore, so what do you still need me for?"

"I love you."

Mariana gasps with a sound that makes his heart race. She shakes her head in disbelief. Suddenly, her hands are being held by his, her eyes are staring into his eyes, and his face is getting closer to her muzzle. He is making his move. She shakes her head again, more vigorously. "Please, stop."

"I love you."

"No you don't!" She grabs his shoulders, forcing him to release her hands. Tears fall down her face and her breathing turns into panting. Suddenly, she growls and bares her teeth, scaring herself as much as the boy. "No you don't...and don't ever say that again." Her grip is strong and demanding. Her docile nature has violently vanished. She has become almost unrecognizable.

Tobias grunts in pain, but manages to reach his left hand up to her face to gently stroke a tear away. At this time she realizes that she is hurting him and quickly softens her grip. Afraid of herself, she stands up and runs away from the couch. She almost flees the room, but stops herself in front of the kitchen doorway. "I'm a wreck."

Tobias stands. "No, you're not."

While he creeps closer, Mariana continues looking away. "You all right? Are you in pain?"

"No," he lies.

She turns to face him. Her face looks like it has been up all night. "I'm so sorry I snapped like that. It's just that...." Mariana looks up, fighting back more tears. "Last month, Inverness asked me out. You know him, right? He's the only one in the company with totally black fur. He's a good friend, and I really like him, so when he asked me out, I said yes. I was gonna finally take the plunge. I would no longer be tethered by the memory of a former lover. But a week later, Zesty was fired, and I quit as a result. When I got home, I knew there was no chance now for Paul to be avenged. I started thinking about him again."

"I don't understand."

"He haunts me when I'm not killing." She approaches him and holds his hands. "He's everywhere I go. A relationship with you wouldn't be fair to you. Earlier, when I was kissing you, I wanted you to be Paul so bad. I swear I could taste him in you." Her teary eyes look deeply into his. "I could never return your love. Matter of fact, I'm not sure I can love anyone...." Her voice breaks once again, causing her to back away. "Well, you wanted to know why I'm asexual. I think that covers it." A chuckle bursts forth as she wipes her eyes. "Listen, Tobias, I'm...pretty much about to have a meltdown here, so...."

Dreadfully, he nods. "You want to be alone?"

She hangs her head slightly. "I think it's best. I'm sorry. You can stay in this room if you like. If you want, I'll get you a pillow." She abruptly leaves through the kitchen, turning back for a slight moment.

Like a jilted groom, Tobias looks at the empty kitchen in disbelief. There were numerous opportunities to get close and stay close. There may have even been more tender ear-licking moments. Now, they are all gone. Sadly, he turns back to the couch and lies across it. He covers his face with his hands, silently cursing his rotten luck. After a few minutes, he sits up, and heads for the television. Suddenly, he stops. Mariana has returned and is right in front of him.

"Listen," she says, "I think you'll be fine, okay? I don't think any less of you and I still really like you. Please don't take my leaving as a rejection, okay?" She waits for a response. After he nods, she tries to smile. "One more thing, if you please. Could you do me a favor? I normally wouldn't ask you to do something like this, but you could...if you really wanted to."

Like an eager puppy, Tobias nods.

"It would really be sweet if you could, when you go back to work, if you could just ...punch Hoeness for me."

He blinks a few times. "Do what?"

"Right square in his beady, little jaw."

"Um...okay?"

"I don't mean to get you in trouble with anybody, and you don't have to do it if you think it's too dangerous, but...he's a bastard, a real son of a bitch. I've been really wishing to see his ass suck the pavement. Just once...."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

[It is about three o'clock, Wednesday morning. I had dozed off while doing a crossword puzzle. The television was on; I thought it would help me stay awake. No such luck. Ironically, one of my favorite moves was on while I was solving the puzzle. It happened to be the movie that Mariana and Tobias were watching.]

[I've eaten little since the surgery and it's making me light-headed. It's still too early in the morning, so all I can do is wait for breakfast. This time, I'll try to eat it all. If I want to get out of here soon, it's the least I can do. My light-headedness is causing me to hallucinate. Funnily enough, my hallucinations aren't much different from the dreams I keep having.]

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Since her first solo hunt abruptly came to an end, Winter had not really been in touch with her significant other...not for a long time. She had not been in touch with the office, letting them know how the hunt was going. It appears that she has gone the last three days without contacting anyone. Maybe the scope of the hunt got to her. Maybe the length of the trip delayed contact. Whatever the reason, it does not matter now. She is now home, in the bedroom, lying in bed and watching television.

It appears she has a cold. She keeps sniffing loudly and wiping her nose with a small piece of crumpled tissue. She has almost completely covered herself with the black blanket on the bed. Her hands shiver as she tries to change the channel with the remote control.

"Chicken soup, just like you asked for." Shiloh enters the room, pushing the door open with his back. A full, steaming bowl of broth is in his hands. He moves gingerly and carefully places the bowl on the end table to the left of his mate. His tail accidentally lands on her chest.

She strokes it gently. "Thanks. That's so nice." Her voice is a little raspy. After a cough, she asks, "What time is it?"

"Noon. You've been home for exactly five hours. I'll get you something to drink."

"You forgot the spoon."

Shiloh turns to look at her and feels her forehead with his right palm. "I'll get that too," he says, stroking her head. "Are you sure you don't want the TV off? You've been flipping channels all day, so you might as well."

"I'll be fine...and this will go away too. You don't have to keep feeling my forehead."

"Yes, I do. See, this is what happens when you don't call for days. This is what happens when you try to make such a long return trip all by yourself."

"You said the hunts were supposed to be solo, remember?"

"The hunts, yes. The trip back home doesn't have to be. You could have called me to bring you back."

"The other guys don't need help coming home. They don't--"

"You're not the other guys." Shiloh sighs and withdraws his hand. They look at each other in silence for a few seconds, the television providing the only sound in the room. His face is stern, but still sympathetic. She seems to be angrier than he is. It does not take long for him to look away and relent. "Let's not argue. I'll get your spoon."

"Try not to nag while you do."

Shiloh shrugs as he leaves. "When I next see those tigers, I'm gonna be wearing their teeth around my neck."

"Oh, come on. Don't do that. Don't do anything."

"Well, they did screw up the mission. Thanks to them, Ambrose is who-knows-where, and if everything you've told me is true, the school he worked in will undoubtedly report him missing very soon. If Mr. Ambrose ever gave his address to anybody, the police will soon find it. They may find evidence that Ravi and Gonal were there. They could even find evidence that a white wolf was there too. And if those idiots didn't take off with all the money, the police could find that too!" As he gets further away from the bed room, he starts to shout. "Are you sure you shouldn't have stayed in the apartment with them until the rain dissipated?!"

Winter covers her face in her hands, clearly exasperated. "I knew what I was doing, okay?"

"It sounds like you left the place just because you were angry at them and didn't stop to really observe your surroundings. If you did, you would have made a more informed decision."

"What did I say about the nagging?" There is another minute of silence; Shiloh has suddenly stopped talking. The white wolf uncovers her face, showing concern. She turns the television off and focuses on the open doorway. "Look, I tried to defend you, okay? They said...well, Ravi said I was making a mistake not helping myself to some of the money. He said that you would have wanted me to take some. I knew you wouldn't agree to anything like that. I saw all that money and I left anyway. I was defending your honor." She raises her head, showing a worried face.

Shiloh slowly walks in the room with a spoon and a glass of orange juice. He has a smile on his face and his posture looks friendlier than before. The smile relaxes her from her vigilant state and she slowly removes her covering to start eating. There is no tray, so she would have to sit herself in front of the rather small end table.

He approaches her, places the glass next to the bowl and places the spoon next to it. Before she can reach the food, he leans in front of her and starts to kiss her nose. He gets one peck in before she gently places her hands on his chest, pushing him off. "Stop it," she says softly. "You'll catch a cold too."

Shiloh chuckles. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm real good at catching things. I'm so good, I'd catch your cold from the next house down the block." He leans down again and they gently kiss each other. It is a series of small kisses instead of one long one, like they are used to. It appears the nagging and second guessing are over for now.

"You're so nice to me," she says, "even when I screw up."

"Forget it. The tigers screwed up. They'll get theirs." He backs away and sits on the foot of the bed, causing her to playfully put her feet on his lap. "You just eat well and concentrate on getting better. You'll be back at work before you know it."

Winter is smiling for practically the first time in this long, arduous day. She swings her feet away from her man and sits in front of the chicken soup. The slow-rising steam is warm and inviting. It lifts itself off the bowl in a slender, white ribbon of vapor. The white wolf takes to it immediately, first stirring it, then sipping it from her spoon. Soon, she is digging in, and after a few spoonfuls, she sighs with content. Shiloh, meanwhile, is still on the foot of the bed, but he is looking straight ahead and is completely ignoring the patient. His eyes squint and his mouth slowly opens. He is lost in thought.

"This is good," Winter says raspily. "Matter of fact, I couldn't make something as good as this if I had instructions. Or maybe you did, which means this is different from the one I'm used to." She laughs and takes another sip. "So after I'm done fighting this thing, I'll go back to the office. You could come with me and see me in action, then...." Her smile fades when she sees Shiloh fold his arms and frown. Something is clearly bothering him. His expression does not fit the happy occasion. "What's wrong, honey?"

Shiloh continues looking straight ahead. From where he is, he would be looking at the wall closet. His mouth is closed tightly and his eyes are starting to close. Winter has seen this look before. She puts the spoon down and lies across the bed again. With her feet, she gives his left shoulder a little nudge. "What's wrong?"

He releases a heavy sigh. "I've given it serious consideration, and before you complain, when I say serious, I mean serious. I've been thinking about it all day and with mixed feelings. But from what you told me about your first hunt, I think you're gonna need a break after you get well."

"Slow down. What are you talking about?"

He stands and walks toward her. "Two things. First off, I'm going back to work. Tomorrow, I'll go to the office and--"

"Come on, Shiloh. I'm trying to recover here. I thought you were going to give all of your time to me. I haven't seen you in days."

"Winter, I've devoted the last three months to you. I've shown you around the office and told you the rules of the place. I've shown you how best to hunt in the city without getting caught. I was your handler, and you've performed beautifully. But now it's time for me to do real work. I'll be in the conference room tomorrow morning."

"And you'll just leave me like this?" She sniffs and returns to her soup.

"You're a big girl. You can take it. And speaking of taking things, that's the second thing that's bothering me. I think I need to teach you how to effectively choose a mark. I need to show you how to handle yourself in the lobby when the morning meeting is over and the choosing process begins."

Winter scoffs. "There's a process? I thought all you had to do is pick a mark from the desk. You pick him and he's yours. Simple, right?"

"Well, you did that and look what's happened. You chose a mark based in some far-flung L.A. suburb. You not only missed him, but you got sick. I...." He catches himself getting angry; his voice is slowly rising, making his mate uncomfortable. "Sorry. Listen, it's almost August. Summer vacation is almost over. Pretty soon, all the workers will return from wherever they went and the lobby will be crammed with furs of all kinds. When you chose Mr. Ambrose, there were only a few people there. Soon, there will be about twenty of them, not including the girls. Then you'll learn that choosing a mark is not like picking a card from a deck. You'll be pushed aside, lost in the shuffle. You'll be a non-factor until all the marks are chosen." He leans in close and caresses her forehead again. "I've got to teach you to stand up for yourself and any mark you decide on. That way, you won't have your ass handed to you."

It is a tough lecture, the kind Winter does not like to listen to. However, she simply sits there and nods at the advice.

Shiloh adds, "Sometimes, a worker will come after you, willing to trade a mark he has for yours. You should learn to trade too. I'll teach you how to haggle until you get one that will really benefit you. It's a skill you need, a skill I should have prepared you for sooner."

Winter shakes her head and returns to eating. "That's the part of the job I still don't understand. Why can't everyone just be happy with the marks they choose?"

"Simply put? Too many workers, not enough marks. I have no problem giving mine to someone else if I feel I have enough money for the time being." He looks at her dotingly as she picks up the bowl and starts slurping. "Look, kid, don't question the process too much. Just stick with me and you'll be all right. I'm stepping out. You want anything?"

"More chicken soup." She chuckles at the half empty bowl.

"Good. Keep everything I said in mind, okay? Your lessons start the day you get better."

The white wolf puts the bowl down and stares at it worriedly. A sarcastic "Can't wait" escapes her mouth.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

[Wednesday morning, five a.m. The television has been turned off for me; at least, I don't remember doing it. I wouldn't be surprised if it happened at the same time Winter turned hers off. I have pains in my back and legs. It could be all the time I've spent lying down, but I'm thinking that something else is wrong with me. It's more unbearable now than a couple of hours ago. Quickly, I hit the red call button next to me. The sooner the morphine comes, the better....]

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Pamila looks at the on watch her left wrist and impatiently paces across the living room of Simon's apartment. Her duffle bags are standing just outside the open front door, ready to be picked up. A small white envelope, the kind that banks give out for their customers to keep money in, is on one of the bags. It looks like she has just been paid for her services, even though it was a de facto punishment for her violent actions weeks ago.

After a couple of minutes of pacing, she decides to just wait by her luggage. She folds her arms anxiously and rapidly taps her left foot on the floor. After a week of babysitting and house sitting, she is most likely going back home. However, she looks like she is dressed for a more formal gathering. Her dark blue blouse and her long, pleated skirt make her look like a grade school teacher. She looks at her watch again and exhales heavily.

She is about to leave her place and pace again when Simon comes storming out from the kitchen doorway. He is taking light, unrecognizable steps. When the fox opens her mouth to speak, he puts his right index finger to his lips. "I've finally put Damian down. Don't make any noise. Let's go quickly before he wakes up. I'll drop you off at the bus stop, so we won't go far. There's also something I gotta tell you about when we get there."

Pamila nods at everything and picks up one duffle bag and the envelope that was on it. Simon strains as he picks up the other bag. She lets him through and closes the door behind them. He thanks her and leads the way to the elevator. While she strains on the way, she has a look on her face that denotes relief. A huge weight is slowly, but surely, being lifted off her shoulders. Once they get to the elevator, Simon smiles, taking more of the weight off. "You want me to help you carry that?"

She shakes her head vigorously. "Don't worry about it. I need the exercise anyway."

"Tell the truth. You didn't spend the entire two weeks cooped up in there with him, did you? I mean, you guys went out, right?"

She says nothing as the elevator opens. As they enter, she trips and drops the envelope.

"Hey, be careful with your minimum wage." The executive laughs softly at the fox. "That's the most money you've made in a while."

Pamila shrugs off the awkwardness of almost falling down. Once the elevator doors close, she opens her mouth to yawn, rudely keeping her hands on her possessions. Her pearly white, vicious-looking teeth make her seem larger than she really is. She clears her throat when she is done. "Four hundred dollars. I haven't made anything so insignificant since high school."

"Hey, you can't kill every day. Besides, I think my son's given you some first-hand knowledge that you'll need in the future. Don't you think so?"

Pamila drops the bag she is holding beside her and folds her arms. "I just want to go back to my regular work."

Simon's face sours. "Yeah, about that...."

The elevator opens and the couple quickly exits. The fox wastes no time in hurrying out of the building, lugging her possessions in her arms. Simon slowly follows, trying not to laugh too loudly. The bus stop is not that far away from the place. It is a brown bench surrounded by a clear, glass enclosure. On foot, it takes about five minutes to make the walk. It turns out that the protected bench is a welcome sight for Pamila, because halfway to the stop, the skies open.

The executive runs as fast as he can toward her. "You better put the money inside that bag."

She does as she is told and they both make it to the enclosed space before the rain starts to pour down on them.

"That was close, wasn't it?" he asks. He smiles brightly with satisfaction. "I wouldn't mind this so much if it hadn't been raining all week."

It doesn't look like Pamila is listening. She has her head down, her elbows on her knees, and her hands clasped. She is sitting and breathing as if she has just run a marathon. For someone who is dressed really well, she looks rather inelegant at this moment.

"Wow. You are in a hurry. Was the experience really that bad?"

"Don't make fun of me, okay? You all got what you wanted. I was out of the way for a couple of weeks and you brought me down a peg. Congratulations."

"Compared to what could have happened, you got off real easy. If it were anyone else other than me, you'd be out of the job so fast, it would be like you were never there."

"I shouldn't be the one punished for anything. I did my job and killed the mark. The bosses tried to stiff me, so I let one of them have it. It was as simple as that."

"Your job blew up the Imbroglio. You were only supposed to go after one guy." He looks at her carefully. She is still in her worn-out, seated pose, only she is getting angrier. "You know, my friend, you've got a serious problem with your temper. I've been observing you ever since you became an official member. You have--"

"I don't have a temper problem," she says impatiently. Her fists tighten as she raises her head. "I never did."

"You're like Donald Duck, only not funny. You've got serious issues. The way you chose to whack Cam Morris and your attack on Colin more than prove it." He scoots closer to the dejected fox, genuinely worried about her. He puts his left hand on her right shoulder. For some reason, this causes her to shiver. "You know," he says, "I've always thought you were the most beautiful non-human woman I've ever seen. I've always liked the fact that your hands and feet are black, your face and tail are half-white, and the rest of you is the brightest red I've ever seen. I liked you right away. You were beautiful and tough and eager to learn. All those attributes may have gotten to me. Looking back, I should have taught you to control your baser urges. I should have taught you...you don't have to go buck wild on a mark like you did with Mr. Morris."

She shakes her head. "You may think this is funny, but I'd get him the same way every time. There's no need to...ouch!" Pamila suddenly stands, forcefully pulling away from Simon. She covers the base of her neck with her right hand.

He stands just as quickly. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Pamila scoffs and clears her throat. "Your son happened."

"Let me see." He moves closer to her and tries to observe. She slowly takes her hand from the right side of her neck, revealing two Band-Aids, one next to the other, covering what looks like the same scratch.

"Your son likes to grab. If I tell him not to, or try to force him off, he just grips harder. Camille dressed the wound." She winces as he touches one of the bandages. "It was one of the worst feelings of my entire life. I couldn't please him until I let him hold me, and I couldn't kick his ass when I wanted him to stop. I felt helpless." She exhales with relief as Simon stops touching the affected area. "It didn't help matters that Camille was laughing the whole time. He grabbed onto her too, but she seemed to enjoy it."

"Camille did a nice job with this." He sits back down and shrugs confusedly. "You're overexaggerating. Besides hiding you away, I gave you a relatively easy chore. Just take care of my son while I take the wife to school in the Northeast. All you had to do was make sure he didn't stick his fingers in a socket. And if he takes a liking to you in the process, that's even better, since Damian doesn't usually let strangers go near him. I don't see what the problem is."

"You don't understand. Your three-year-old has reduced me to practically begging for my life...and for my old job. You don't know what it's like getting pushed around like that. It's a really shitty feeling."

He turns away from her, looking straight ahead at the rain. "Fine. Just do both of us a favor and find a way to control your tempter, then you won't have to hide in other people's houses and get any more shitty feelings." He exhales loudly. "I don't know. Maybe a trip to the psych room will make you-"

"Forget it. I'm not seeing the shrink. No way!"

A long pause follows. A flash of lightning surprises the couple for a second. After the subsequent clap of thunder, the rain and the wind pick up. Part of the storm blows into their faces. Simon shields his eyes. Pamila sighs in exasperation, but otherwise keeps still. "If you ask me," he adds, "you passed this test with flying colors. No matter what you think Damian's done to you, he's only a toddler. You'll live. If you didn't want him holding you, then...well...he's got lots of plush toys. You could have--"

"He didn't want to hold those. Just me."

"Still, you could have tried. You don't want to be held? Be firm with him; make him hold on to something else."

"I've tried that, okay? I've tried all that! It's not my fault the boy's retarded!"

Pamila is still breathing like she ran a hundred miles. She runs her hands through her face and head, drying her wet fur. She then straightens her rumpled blouse and unzips her duffle bag. After making sure the money is still in place, she nods and sighs with satisfaction. It takes her a couple of minutes to calm down, after which she turns back to her boss in order to say something. Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

Simon Blank is mad. The look on his face shows the kind of anger usually seen on fed up school teachers or road rage sufferers. Considering that he has just been blindsided by the fox's comments, the comparison is suitable. He folds his arms tightly and wedges his feet against the ground. His nostrils flare as he inhales deeply. The noise causes Pamila to quickly turn her head away from him. She keeps her hands at her sides and once again looks straight ahead.

"The word is 'autistic,'" he says.

Pamila gasps softly and covers her mouth with her hands, which have started to lightly shake. It seems the magnitude of the moment has moved her. Or maybe she is just cold. She swallows as she puts her hands down. As bitter as the weather is turning, it seems just as bitter in the bus stop. Simon stares at her, disgusted at what he sees; his blood is practically boiling. It looks like he wants to beat her senseless.

The fox continues to avoid looking at Simon's gaze. She is trying her best not to show it, but she is clearly scared of what is happening now. She lowers her head and again covers her face, as if she just now understands what she did wrong. It is not clear if she looks remorseful. Suddenly, she puts her hands on her lap, clears her throat, and straightens herself. Whatever she is going to say, it does not look like an apology is coming. "Listen, I know what you're going to say, so you can save it because I've heard it all before."

Simon raises his eyebrows, not expecting her to still be mad at him.

"I know you're gonna hate me for using that word, but it's not something I can just get rid of, okay? That's how I talk. You know that. You've known since we first met, and my bluntness is one of the things you said you liked about me. I don't want to be 'corrected,' and I don't like being told what to say or how to say it. It's who I am, it's how I live, and I'm not changing for anyone." The wind blows rain into her face. She closes her eyes for a moment, but quickly recovers her bravery. She is still not looking at him though. "Besides, it's not relevant. I want you to know that I care about your son. I really do. I like you enough that when you suggested I hide out in your house and take care of him, I didn't completely blow you off. Just so you know, he was a good boy, mostly, but it was a shit assignment. I think it was meant to put me in my place, and it succeeded."

He turns away from her and unfolds his arms, the angry look staying on his face. The street lights start to glow as the sky darkens.

"That helpless feeling I told you that I had with your son? It's the same feeling I get at the workplace. When there's a large crowd, I get crowded out from the marks on the front desk. Not many will trade with me and none of them take my methods seriously. They're probably thinking, 'How dare she show up here? She should be making me a sandwich, not hunting.' The only time they give me a second look is when I challenge them to a game of poker; they get to try to take my money. You think everything is fine after the morning meeting, but it's not, because the deck is stacked against me. Camille too. If there was a way...."

Still smarting from the 'retarded' comment, Simon stands and puts his hands in his pockets. His expression has changed from anger to a kind of hopelessness, a feeling of soberness that shows he is thinking really hard. Maybe he is changing his mind, or having second thoughts about Pamila.

Feeling even bolder, she stands. She is ready to talk to him face to face, but right now, the back of his head will do just fine. "Simon...Mr. Blank...." She shakes her head. The situation is clearly beyond her control. She sighs, still not remorseful, but much less angry. "I like...no, I love this job. I love the fact that you were my handler, and I love the relationship that we've built since those days. You're the only person in that office, besides Camille, who I can trust because you're the only one who treats us fairly. I just want to get back to work, with your continued help of course."

"What you said regarding Damian was unfair. Unfair to him, to me, and most of all, to the one who bore him. I just wanted you to know that before you keep talking."

Pamila closes her eyes. She is prepared for a long battle. "I apologize for nothing. I've already told you that it's irrelevant. You didn't hire me because I was a sweet talker. You let me into the group because you were impressed with my skills. I've got the strength, I've got good instincts, I can be stealthy...you've seen me in action!" She steps toward him, into the rain, and looks at his face. "I'm the best killer among those fools. That's what I'm good at. That's what I know best. Thanks for hiding me from the cops and everything, but I'm not a babysitter. I just want to go back to work on Monday."

Simon returns to his seat, causing the fox to return to hers. They sit quietly, cold and angry, waiting for the bus to put an end to this awkward turn of events. The executive is nice enough of a man to offer his coat to an employee who is shivering in cold weather. Right now, he is not that nice, even though she is clearly underdressed. He can hear Pamila blow into her hands and struggle to stay warm, but he continues to look straight ahead. "The chief wants to see you."

"Hmm. I'll bet she does."

"She wants to see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow's Sunday. The office is closed."

"She doesn't care. She called me this morning. She is real eager to see you. So eager, in fact, that she wants you in the building tomorrow, where you two can talk in private. She says it's either that, or on Monday, during the morning meeting, in front of everybody. She says that you'll want to make it Sunday."

Pamila folds her arms in an attempt to warm her fingers. "You could have given me a heads up sooner."

"Yeah, well you were being a bitch."

"Going to the office on Sunday is stupid. Why can't she call me at home?"

Simon shrugs. "If she wants to see you alone, she's probably got something extra special planned."

She takes a quick look at the human before turning her head away once again. "Is my job in danger?"

"Only she can tell you that. I'm just the messenger."

"Give me your best guess. Should I be looking through the want ads on Monday?"

"Hmm. You know, if she does fire you, we could always use another loan officer in the building. You could easily apply for--"

"That's not funny. I'm not ever doing that."

Simon clicks his tongue. "Then I guess you're screwed."

Pamila shakes her head and stands, more frustrated than ever. "Oh, she'd enjoy that, wouldn't she? She'd like it if I turned into a working stiff, a drone, a peon. She'd like to make me into one of her lackeys. She'd get what she wants! The boys in the office would see me lowered too. They'd love to be rid of me! And what about you? Aren't you going to do anything?"

"I've already told you. Whatever Vivian's got planned has nothing to do with me. I'm just the--"

"Dammit! Where's this fucking bus?!"

Seconds after she asks, the shuttle arrives. It slowly turns the corner and stops in front of the couple. As soon as the door opens, Pamila impatiently runs in, blowing off Simon, who looks at her with great disappointment. The door closes behind her. It takes her a few seconds to realize that she is empty handed. The door opens again, letting the aggravated fox out. She is less angry and more embarrassed; she rolls her eyes as she faces her boss once again.

Without saying anything, he hands her the duffle bags and waves goodbye. His tone has not improved since her disparaging comments.

"Um...Simon, I gotta know. Am I in trouble with the chief? You think my job's in danger?"

He shrugs. "I'll tell you this--if you believe in God, or gods, you better make good use of 'em."

"Thanks for a lovely evening," she says. It was probably a sarcastic remark, but she watches him leave for a couple of seconds before she boards the bus.

Once inside, she takes the unoccupied seat directly behind the driver. As the bus pulls away, she covers her face in her hands and leans her head back. It has been a long day. The night will most likely be much longer. She uncovers her face and closes her eyes angrily, breathing deeply and dreading the next morning. "I am so fired."

[Author's Note: To anyone who was really into by the opening story and was disappointed with the lack of a payoff, I humbly apologize for being a cocktease. Unfortunately, anything further between Mariana and Tobias would have ruined a future major plot point. Thanks for reading.]