Venom:  Beautiful Killers.  Part 52

“Pace yourself."

A groggy, young girl wearing an old, too-long undershirt and blue shorts struggles down the stairs of a dimly lit house.  She barely stands five feet; definitely older than nine years but not quite a teenager.  She rubs his eyes and drags her feet across the carpet.  Completely worn out and oblivious to her whereabouts, she almost falls as her feet find the bottom step.  There is a cacophonous noise coming from up the stairs, made by a couple of raised voices.  It sounds like an argument between two or three people with a really vocal difference of opinion.  The girl turns around and looks up at the closed doors above her before covering her ears and escaping to the living room.

She sits on the couch looks around, veering her head from side to side as if looking for something.  Scoffing angrily, she runs a couple of feet in front of her to turn on the television.  The shouting above her is getting louder.  She covers her ears again, closes her eyes and grits her teeth.  The attempt at blocking out the noise is clearly not working.

Five minutes later, the argument threatens to drown out the TV.  The young girl cannot take it anymore and flees from the living room.  She runs down the stairs to the basement.  As soon as she disappears, the arguing stops.  Besides the low noise from the television, everything has turned quiet.  A door from high opens then slams loudly.  Tired footsteps follow as Tobias clambers down, yawning away what is left of his sleep.

He sees the television and looks around.  “Pamila?  You still here?"  He turns behind him and pokes his head into the kitchen.  He calls her name once more before returning to the parlor and turning off the TV.

A shrill scream rings out from below him and he anxiously looks behind him.  Loud, fast footsteps storm up the stairs and the young girl with the too long shirt darts into view.  She stops in her tracks right in front of Tobias, breathing laboriously.  He folds his arms and nods as if he knows what just happened.  She folds her arms too, turning from scared to angry.

"Is there a red fox downstairs?"

The little girl answers with a calm nod.  “She scared me."

“Is she using the washing machine?"

“No, she's using the dryer."

“Good.  I'll just go check on her."

“You brought her here, didn't you?  That's why mom's mad, isn't it?"

Tobias finds something in the couch cushions.  He reaches in and pulls out the remote control.  “What about it?"

“You and mom were fighting again.  It woke me up.  So who is she?  Your girlfriend or something?"

“I had to bring her in, okay?  I can't tell you why.  You wouldn't understand."

“Why can't you keep mom happy for one day?!"  She shakes her head and runs upstairs. 

Tobias thinks about what was said for a while, but soon snaps out of his daze and heads for the basement.  He walks slowly, trying not to draw suspicion.  It is probably too late for that considering his mother knows that Pamila is here.  As soon as he sees her, he swallows and sighs to draw her attention.

The fox is sitting on an old chair in front of the dryer, watching her clothes rotate and tumble.  Her arms are folded and her bare feet are curling in and out.  Her toenails scrape the dirty, tiled floor.   She is in no mood to be messed with, so when she hears Tobias behind her, she gives him a quick look, then angrily turns back to the clothes.

“Um…good morning?"

“What's so good about it?"  Pamila is trying to keep her composure; she bites her lip and breathes heavily.  She even sits on her hands to keep them from doing something she might regret later.  “Kid, if I were you, I'd head back up those stairs.  I don't want to throttle you, but I will if you come near me."

“Okay.  Just remember that I have your keys."

“Like I wouldn't kill everyone in this house and take your car!"  She again clamps her lower lip between her teeth and heaves a couple of angry breaths.

“Look, I'm sorry that mom saw you in the bathroom.  But you should have used the one down here."

“What 'one down here'?!  There's no toilet down here!  I looked everywhere!"

Quickly as he can, Tobias runs down the stairs and passes behind the fox, accidentally kicking her tail.  He opens a door to her right.  As she watches on, he turns on a light in that room and opens a door on the far end.  To Pamila's embarrassed shock, there is an ivory-colored toilet staring at her.

Leaving the door open and the light on, Tobias returns to the fox.  “There it is."

“You're shitting me.  I just got embarrassed for nothing."

“Again, I'm sorry mom saw you like that.  I wish you would have let me stand guard near you last night.  You had a long night. You didn't need extra scrutiny."

“I'll be fine.  I just…."

The appliance stops its cycle, meaning the clothes are dried and ready.  Pamila opens it up and pulls out her denim shirt.  While inspecting it, she hears the boy trying to sneak away.  “Wait right there!"  She gently drapes the shirt on the chair, pulls out the jeans, and reaches into each pocket.  As the boy looks on, she pulls out a wet wad of twenties.  “I've decided I'm not gonna call my old man just yet.  Still…here you go."

“You're still gonna give me the two hundred?"

“I guess I owe you for everything you've done, and—“

“I'll give it back to you if you go up to mom and—“

“Hey!  I'm trying to pour my heart out here.  Don't interrupt."  She puts on her shirt and fiddles with the buttons.  “Forget it.  Just keep the money.  I'd probably only buy drinks with it."

“Don't be too hard on yourself.  I'm sure that now you're thinking straight, the money could be of really good use to you.  It could buy you a good breakfast, for instance."

“You're such a nuisance.  I told you to keep it and I insist that you keep it.  I'll eat when I get home."

“Why not eat breakfast with us?"

“Kid, your mom just saw me naked…sitting on the john.  She saw my legs, my scars…everything.  By now, she ought to be putting two and two together."  She turns somber fastening the buttons.  “Besides, I'm sure the sight of me frightened her as much as look on her face frightened me.  I wouldn't be surprised if she committed seppuku after breakfast."  She smirks as she slowly pulls up her pants.  She grins harder when she hears Tobias' reaction.  “That was a joke kid.  Don't get sore."  After buttoning her trousers, she calmly sits down in front of him.  “You don't know what seppuku is, do you?"

“I try to stay away from mom's personal life."

Now the fox laughs loudly.  She bows her head and looks around, as if searching for something she dropped.  She eventually finds her shoes underneath the chair she is sitting on.  While Tobias looks on, wondering what she is laughing at, the fox returns to her seat with her shoes in hand.  “Forget it.  Can I ask you a question?"

“Sure."

“You're Crevecoeur's nephew."

“Is that a question?"

“Meaning Crevecoeur is your dad's brother."

Tobias looks around nervously, wondering when the questions are coming.  “Yes."

“Crevecoeur's Black."

“Yes."

“And your dad's White."

“Very."

“So which one of the two was adopted?"

“Crevecoeur was.  He was abandoned when he was one year old, according to grandma, and she took him in.  Grandpa and his brothers were in the military.  That's why my dad and my uncle have a real hard-on for order and hygiene."

“I see it's rubbed off on you a bit."

“Nope.  I don't like it."

“Yeah, right.  You've been standing at attention the whole time you've been talking to me."

The boy looks at his feet and now notices that he is quite rigid.  He looks uncomfortable standing like that, but cannot seem to relax around the seasoned killer.  “Sorry.  I've had a long night.  Anyway, I don't like the military-style parenting.  Neither did Uncle Creve.  As soon as he turned eighteen, he left home and went to the Midwest."

“I see he didn't keep the Haggard name."

“Nope.  He went back to his biological mother's name.  He hates his adopted parents.  He really hates leaving his kids with them.  But these days he has no choice."

Pamila giggles at the thought while she puts on her shoes.  “You know what?  I think I'll have breakfast with you after all."

“Really?"  He raises his eyebrows and backs away a little bit.  “That's great."

“Yeah.  You could use a bit of disorder in your house."

“You're not gonna kill anyone here, are you?"

“How unstable do you think I am?"

“No offense, but you did try to kill me last night."

Fully dressed, Pamila stands and straightens the folds in her shirt.  She looks ready to go.  “Would you believe me if I told you that I wouldn't have killed you?"

“No."

“Yeah, thought not.  Let's go.  I'm hungry."

She walks behind him again.  This time, the tone is more subdued.  Unlike last night, when she hated the world, she is virtually content this morning.  The drinks have not totally left her system, but she is sober enough to be more docile and less reactionary.  The banter between them has surprised her and she laughs some more.

“Now mom's gonna kill both of us."

“Keep your shit.  I'll apologize for keeping you late last night.  Hopefully, your mom plays it cool and doesn't ask too many questions.  I'm not good at lying.  I mean…if she pries too much, I'm may have to tell her what I do for a living."

Tobias nods.  “Then you'll kill us.  Got it."

“Shut up and walk."

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

[Sequestration Day 3.  My ex-girlfriend comes over and keeps me company.  She says she's found someone new, but that it isn't serious.  Says that had she known I'd be in surgery, that she would have stayed with me just a little bit longer.  She asks me why I didn't call her.  I would have, except that I had no time.  The kidney would have gone to someone else if I didn't hurry and get to the hospital.  I guess I could have called during the two-hour wait.]

[We had a falling out a week before the hospital called.  Like most couples undergoing a rough patch, we tried to figure out what was wrong with the relationship by ourselves.  As usual, either I was right or she was wrong.  But it doesn't matter now.  She's here and all is right with the world.]

[She reminds me of one of the women I constantly dream about.  I've written her name down, but I can't remember what she looks like.  I haven't “seen" her in a while.  Maybe she is no longer a factor.  Besides looking like my former significant other, she hasn't contributed much of anything.]

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

Camille lies quietly, face down on her queen-sized bed.  A light blue blanket covers her lower half.  A few rays of the morning sun shine down on her naked back.  The blue on her fur stands out in the light; it is a bit of a darker shade than the blue on the blanket.  She slides her half-covered body to face left.  Her eyes open to see a small, brown end table.   It has intricate designs on its legs, fancy brass handles on its drawers, and a nice mahogany finish.  It looks too rich for the rest of the room.

She reaches out to open the top drawer and pulls out a packet of breath strips.  A smile creeps across her lips as she slowly pulls one out.  After putting it in her mouth, she tosses the packet back in the drawer.  While closing it, her hand accidentally knocks something askew.  The object on top of the table slides until it partially hangs on the edge.  She reaches out to rescue it from falling and further raises her head. 

In her hand is a framed photograph of herself and her fox friend, Pamila.  It is an old picture, taken many years ago.  The girls are standing really close together with their arms around each other's shoulders.  The fox is on the left, holding Camille with one arm and ski poles in her other hand.  The cat, hidden snugly in a gray parka, has a good grip on the fox with her right hand while holding a pair of skis in her left.  Behind them are flurries of diagonally falling snow.  Even further behind them are a group of white-capped, mountain peaks.  The photograph is cozy even though the conditions look hazardous. 

Below the picture, embossed in gold on the mahogany frame, is a message that reads THE BRAVE DUO TACKLE THE ADIRONDACKS.  The words give the picture some meaning and give the cat pause.  She sucks loudly on the breath strip as she runs her thumb on the golden words.  It seems nobody should look at that picture without having tender, even positive thoughts.  The falling out between the two seems far away now.  The cat tightly closes her eyes and takes a couple of deep breaths.

Suddenly, she slams the picture frame face down on the table and buries her head in her pillow, muffling a pained grunt.  Just as quickly, there is heavy movement right next to her.  Also in bed is Tom, who springs awake and bolts upright.  He turns to his right to see Camille face down in her pillow.  “What was that?" he asks.  He looks on at her and prods her to answer, but all that comes out is a low, sustained “Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm" from the girl's covered mouth.

He raises his eyebrows and gently rubs her back.  “I'm sorry?"

“No.  Go to sleep."

“Honey?  What was that noise?"

She lifts her head to uncover her mouth.  “What makes you think there was a noise?"

Tom leans up against the headboard and folds his arms.  “Where are my cigarettes?"  He looks down at the floor on his left.  Beside the bed is a mound made up of his clothes.  Apparently, there is a pack of smokes in there somewhere.  “You mind if I smoke?"

“Yes.  Don't do it here.  Go to the living room if you wanna do that."

Jaded, but not discouraged, he returns to rubbing Camille's back.  He playfully moves his hand down her back and under the covers.  “You sound perturbed."

“Forget about it.  We had a wonderful night.  Let's not ruin it."

“Okay.  I was just worried.  That's all."  He gets impatient with rubbing her back and decides to lean into her.  He sidles next to her and kisses her cheek.  Her face is still on the pillow, but not for much longer.

After a couple of minutes of gentle prodding, Camille sighs wistfully and turns to her new lover.  They embrace and kiss in very close quarters.  It gets even closer when he wraps her around his ripped arms.  She has a tough time embracing him in return, so he rolls on his back to better accommodate her. 

She pounces on him, letting the covers slip from her lower half.  Her much smaller arms wrap around him eagerly and her right hand grabs the back of his head, gripping one of his ears.  They kiss noisily and deeply; it is the only sound in the quiet room.  The atmosphere, complete with the wavering sunlight, looks musty with sex.  The blanket gives way and eventually exposes the couple's bareness.  He grabs hold of her posterior, causing her to sigh deeply into his chest.  He purrs in response, right into her ear, the tip of which gets a nice, breathy massage.

All they do is kiss, retract, look at each other, and kiss some more.  It goes on for maybe half an hour.  Once he is out of breath, Tom lifts himself up until his back is once again flat against the headboard.  “Give me a moment."

“No," she says curtly.  She rides up on him, sitting on his lap.  She wraps him up again and continues to kiss his unwilling mouth.   He is still breathing hard, so she slows down until they are just pressing their mouths together.  He closes his eyes and returns the embrace.  After another minute, she giggles and rests her head on his chest fur.  “I'm falling in love with you."

He does not look as happy.  “What's that on your hand?"

“What hand?"

“Your left hand.  Let me see it."

She reluctantly allows him to push her away.  She straddles his legs angrily while he gently pries open her hand.  He stares at her blue palm quizzically, then apparently finds what he is looking for.  “You've cut yourself."

“It's no big deal."

“I was wondering why the back of my neck was leaking.  Hold on.  I'll dress it."

“Please don't get up."

“I'll be back…."

Camille places her hands on his shoulders, forcing him back in the bed.  “Don't leave."  She embraces him again; her affected hand lies flat against his bare back.  “In fact, if you could just call in sick and stay all day, I would really appreciate that.  You can go back to work tomorrow."

Tom chuckles.  “Tomorrow's Sunday, genius.  That's my off day.  I can stay here then.  But today's Saturday.  I'm needed Saturday nights…for obvious reasons."

“Couldn't you see your way to—“

“Saturday nights are big nights for the club.  Otter and Silas can't handle it themselves."

“Please stay with me."

“Why so impatient?  And how'd you hurt your hand anyway?"

Camille places her mouth on his left shoulder and starts to clamp down.  Her teeth grind against his fur.  “I broke something."

“Oh, okay.  Well, let's get your hand fixed.  The cut's not too deep."

“I broke Pamila's face along with it."

“Um…Camille?"

“She deserved it."

“Yeah, okay.  Let's take your teeth off my shoulder before you rip off the skin."

“Sorry."  She rests her head on his chest as he wipes her cut with his right thumb.

“I'll just wipe it off.  It should really be cleaned properly, but since you won't let me up…."

She sighs with frustration and settles into him.  “I've never done that before, you know?"

“Done what?"

“Broken up with someone so…viscerally.  I slammed Pamila's head against on the bar back at The Shark Pit."

“I'm not sure I want to hear this."

“I did that, then I told her off.  I thought that if I did that, I'd be free of her, you know?"

“Have you seen her since the incident?"

“No."

Tom kisses the affected spot, now wiped dry, and encloses her left hand in his right.  “Well then you are free of her."

“Physically, not mentally.  I've forgotten how everything in here reminds me of her…including the fact that she helped me buy this house.  I've tried to hide the pictures and everything.  Then I saw the picture frame—something else I've forgotten about.  Now I wish what I did didn't happen."

“Mm-hm.  And why are you mad at her again?"

“Because she wants to take you away from me."

“But I'm not away from you, am I?"  He kisses her forehead and smiles with condescension.  “You have what you want, despite her misgivings.  Don't you now think it's time to bury the hatchet?"

Camille sighs into his chest fur.  She looks up at him with a sheepish, pitiable grin.  “Do I have to do it right this minute?"

“No, but…you wouldn't feel so bad afterwards."

“Pamia's really smart and…I hate to say it…maybe a bit of a clairvoyant.  She's correct about a lot of things, but just this once, I'd like her to be wrong.  I'd just like to be with a guy without the risk of having her say 'I told you so.'  Just once."

Tom raises his brow and laughs.  “Damn.  You know, maybe it would be better if we held off from seeing each other for a while.  I hate to get in the way of a friendship…much less be the cause of the fighting."

“Pam's a big girl.  She'll get over it.  I'm just worried about doing it wrong."

“You've said that already, and I've told you…being in love is just like riding a bike.  Besides, we just did it...and you didn't suck…so there's nothing to worry about."

Camille laughs and strokes the whiskers on his face.  “Stay home today.  Stay with me."

“No.  I got work to do."

She giggles and grabs his face with both hands.  “Say you'll stay or say goodbye to your whiskers."

Tom sighs and grabs her face in return.  “Pay me my salary for today and I'll think about it."

“Aww, come on.  Don't do that.  You think I can afford to give you what Tiger Tails pays you?"

“Believe it or not, a bouncer's salary is not that great."

She leans in and gives him a deep kiss.  “I'll give you everything I have…if you stay the whole day."

Tom looks at the ceiling; he is really pondering whether or not to do what she wants.  “I don't know.  I really love my job, and I don't want to keep the other guys hanging."

“Everything I have," she repeats.

“Ha.  Does pussy come with it?"

She kisses his nose and bounces off the bed.  “Don't be vulgar.  I'll go get my checkbook.  You stay put."

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

“All right, take it easy.  Don't rub your nose.  I know it hurts; they just took the tube out, but you gotta bear with it, okay?"

Shiloh is still on the same bed, in the same room, under the same roof.  From the walls to the door, the lights, curtains, bed, floor, everything has the stain and stink of familiarity about them.  Weakened and weary, the impatient wolf looks defeated lying under the covers.  The hitman looks nowhere near his best.  He releases an irritated breath and presses his interlocked hands on his forehead.  He grunts his disapproval at the woman in front of him.

Winter sighs lovingly and dotes on him.  “Calm down and look at me.  Can you do it again?"

He closes his eyes and tries to turn away from her.  He is stopped by her gentle hands on his shoulders.

“Please?  Do it one more time.  I promise I won't laugh at you again."

He looks at her angrily and exhales through his flared nostrils.

“Don't clear your throat this time.  Just try without hurting yourself."

“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeee….eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee….eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee….eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee."

“Good.  It sounds better."

His voice strains and skips several times.  It sounds like he has a sore throat.  The voice is clearly unwilling to make any sounds.

“Can you do it again?"

“Eeeeeeeeeeeeee…eeeeeeeeeeeee…eeeeeeeeeeeeee…EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE…."

“Whoa, not so loud.  Pace yourself."

“Sorry," he whispers.  “Wasn't thinking for a moment."

“It sounded better though."  She looks down on her left wrist just as the watch beeps.  “It's seven.  Breakfast will be here soon.  You ready to try and eat?  Remember, I'm not telling you to wolf it down.  I'm only asking you to try."

“I'm not hungry."

“You haven't eaten in days…except through a tube."

“I'm good."  He coughs loudly; it is loud enough to get his girlfriend to back off.  She immediately takes her hands from his shoulders.  “Besides, I'd just throw it all up anyway."

“Yeah…I never knew the medicines make you do that.  I didn't know that could happen.  That's not fair.  But still…."  She sighs and stands, looking helpless.  “It'll be okay."

“If you say so."

“I'm going to the bathroom, okay?  I'm going to take a shower.  Meanwhile, just keep exercising that voice."

“You know, you don't have to stay."

Winter can hardly believe her ears.  She puts her hands on her hips and hovers over him.  “Shiloh, would you leave me here if I was in your place?  You wouldn't, would you?"

He tries to respond with another angry look, but he coughs again, automatically losing the staring contest.  “I wouldn't," he whispers weakly.

“No, you wouldn't.  I'll be right back."

“I can smell…."

Winter had turned to leave, but is drawn back to him.  She looks on curiously and waits for him to continue.  “Smell what?"

He swallows with pain.  “I can smell someone else on you.   On your clothes."

“Hm?  Oh yeah.  Crevecoeur was here."

“And…did he live in you for a couple of days?  Why do you smell like that?  Just how close were you two?"

Winter is first surprised, then angry at his accusatory questions.  She approaches the bed once again.  “You serious?"

“Humor me."

“Come on, Shiloh.  You're too sick...."  She leans down until her shadow covers his body.  “…and too smart to be jealous of Robert.  So that you don't start sounding stupid, I'll just answer your questions before you ask them, okay?  We stayed in the waiting room for more than half the day.  Yes, we touched each other.  Yes, we hugged.  Yes, we kissed."  Winter laughs.  “There was even some tongue."  She watches her boyfriend turn his eyes from her gaze, but strokes his face to win back his attention.  “You all right?"

“What do you care?"

“Listen, honey, and listen well.  I don't intend to repeat myself.  When I got the news that you were in here, Robert was right there with me, as luck would have it.  He stopped me from panicking, he drove me here, and he sacrificed time with his children to stay with me.  He didn't even leave until I convinced him to.  So what if we kissed?  It made waiting for your sorry ass to wake up all the more bearable."  She laughs again.

Shiloh tries to reach his right hand up to touch her face, but she holds it and places it back by his side.   “Sorry it took so long," he whispers.

“It's all right.  Look, Robert set me up nicely.  He got a few of my things from home and has been calling every few hours.  Thanks to his efforts, I'm perfectly situated.  There's no better friend we have right now than him.  He's the best…as far as humans go.  And you know what?  When I see him again, I'm gonna kiss him again.  And if you're smart, you'll do nothing about it.  You know why?"   She gives his nose a light, playful kiss.  “Because you know that once you get better, I'll be kissing you instead."

“You promise?"

“Just don't try to speed up the process.  Let the medicine do its job, okay?  Remember that as long as you're here, I'm here.  So don't try telling me to leave because I won't listen."  She touches her nose against his before slowly standing.  “Now, I'm gonna go take a shower.  When the food gets here, just try to eat."

“I probably won't."

“Just try, okay?"  She gets halfway to the bathroom before turning to face him again.  “Before I forget, have you remembered what happened to you?  Or how you got here?"

“Do I really have to?"

“You were stabbed, Shiloh.  Hospital policy dictates that they contact the police...who are gonna try to get a statement.  Since you were hurt during a hunt, we need a story to tell the cops once they arrive."

“Can't we just not say anything?"

“I'm still thinking about that.  In the meantime, just try and remember.  It's really important.  At least try to remember where you left our car."  She blows him a kiss and steps out of sight.

The wolf struggles to sit up.  After three attempts, he gives up with a frustrated sigh and lies back down.

Winter calls out from the bathroom.  “By the way, Tivoli was here too.  She says hi.  If it makes you feel any better, I didn't kiss her."

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

Pamila and Tobias hightail it out of his house as quickly as possible without running into the jaywalkers on the road in front of the cul-de-sac.  He breathes a sigh of relief, pretty glad to be away from the awkwardness that must have taken place at breakfast.   She, on the other hand, is motionless; she stares out the window with her nose pressed against the glass.  The last twelve hours have been so far outside the norm, it would be unbelievable if it were not experienced by more than one.  She heaves a deep sigh and hangs her head.

“You all right?"

Pamila raises her head to stare at him briefly.  It is not an angry stare, but it is not welcoming either.  She lowers it again as she says, “I'm still trying to figure out why I told you about my dad last night.  I'm still trying to figure out why I dreamt about him."

“You can't explain dreams.  They just happen."

“Maybe dad was trying to send me a message."

“Is he that powerful?"

“Shut up and drive."  The fox wipes her eyes with her palms and strains to stay awake.  “I thought my headaches would go away by now."

“You should have taken the medicine mom offered you."

“I don't take other people's prescription drugs.  That's how addictions get started."

“You have no problem taking their drinks."

“Boy!  I'm gonna fuck you up if you don't stop…."  She stops herself mid-sentence and, completely out of character, does not lay into him.  Instead, she turns her head to face the road.  It was like a battery had run out of juice, causing her to stop functioning.  Suddenly, her attitude shuts down as well.  She purses her lips and relaxes her hands on her lap.  She looks serene, almost approachably so, and maybe even a little apologetic.  She clears her throat as if about to make an important announcement. 

“Sorry if that hit a nerve," Tobias says.

“Not for nothing, kid, but you might be the biggest waste of space I've ever come across.  That said, I appreciate what you've done for me.  You did me a real solid."

“You mean that?"

“I said it, didn't I?"

“Oh, by the way, I called St. Croix before we left.  He said he'd meet us there.  I told him everything and he wants to help us cover your ass."

“I'm not looking forward to looking him in the eye right now."

“It's not him you have to worry about."

Pamila sighs as they get closer to their destination.  She knows who Tobias is referring to.  “Yeah, but I'm not worried about Mrs. Cross."

“You should be."

“Mrs. Cross is a pussycat.  There's nothing she can throw at me that I can't handle.  We've sparred a couple of times before.  She's got nothing."

“Can you spar your way out of being fired?"

“She won't fire me.  She too busy trying to be my friend.  She hasn't got what it takes.  Ted won't fire me either.  He knows I'm too valuable.    He all but said so at the last meeting I went to.  You should have seen me there.  I took charge and grabbed my mark…right in front of Hoeness and his damned cronies.  And there was nothing they could do about because Ted was there, welcoming me back to their chagrin."

“If you don't mind my asking…how many enemies do you plan to make while you're employed here?"

The fox huffs.  “For your information, I do mind you asking."  She shakes her head and undoes her seatbelt.  The building is close and she can see her car sitting there in the rear lot.  “I used to think of you as an enemy.  But you're not anymore, are you?"

“I'm not?"

“I'm not killing you or anything.  You're still in once piece.  I'm not coming down hard on you like I used to.  I'm letting you drive me to my car, which is something I'd never let anyone do if circumstances were different.  The point is…we're not enemies anymore.  Doesn't that show you that it's possible that Hoeness and company won't be my enemies for long?"

Tobias turns left and enters the front lot.  He nods when he sees St. Croix leaning up against his car.  He slows and looks back at Pamila.  “No offense, but when Hoeness gets wind of what happened last night, he'll call for your firing.  I'm afraid that'll be the only way he'll accept not being your enemy."

“Hoeness can go pound sand!  Besides, there's no way of him knowing what happened last night. Not unless you tell him."

“Baua was there.  Don't you remember?"

Pamila scratches her head.  “Who?"

Tobias does a double take.  “You threw up on his shoes!  He was really pissed."

“What?!"

“Oh boy."  He decides to drop the discussion since St. Croix has just waved at him.  “One thing at a time."

Pamila has no time to dwell on the practically new information.  As soon as they park, she is out of the car and walking towards St. Croix.  “Hey there," he says.  He rubs her right shoulder, genuinely glad to see her.  “The kid told me what happened."

“He did, huh?"

“Shall we go in?"  St. Croix simply waits for Tobias to exit his car.  They greet each other and Tobias opens the door for them.  It takes over a minute.  In that time, the wolf asks no questions, takes no verbal shots, and makes no complaints about being at the workplace on a Saturday.  He just smiles at her as he allows her to enter before him.

The lights do not need to be turned on.  The three can see the half empty bottle of scotch that Mrs. Cross had been saving for a special occasion.  It stands there untouched since last night.  Tobias accidently drops his keys walking across the room.  As he crouches to pick them up, he allows the two coworkers more time to gaze at the bottle.

St. Croix's eyes widen, fascinated by the size of the vessel.  He looks surprised even though he has probably drunk many of those drinks in his spare time.  Pamila, on the other hand, looks at it and silently smacks her lips.  Her nose filters in the smell of last night.  There is no doubt that she is still tempted by its call.  She closes her eyes, probably imagining drinking the remaining contents.  She is snapped out of it immediately when Tobias moves the bottle.

“I'll bring you your keys," he says while he disappears down the dark hallway.

The wolf and the fox are now alone in the lobby.  “So," he starts, “you imbibed last night, huh?"

She puts her hands on her hips.  “What do you want?  An apology?  An explanation?  I'm afraid I don't have either ready."

“I won't tell anyone."  He sidles over to her and puts his right arm around her waist.  “We're friends, right?"

She looks at him suspiciously but still allows him to lean in.  “I guess it was gonna catch up with me sooner or later, right?"

“I can replace the scotch.  I'm good for it.  It's just that…I've never heard of this brand before."

“You kidding?  We live in California.  We've got everything.  Surely, we can find this brand of scotch.  Of course, I may need some help."

“Well, luckily for you, there's no one else I'd rather spend my Saturday with."  He gives her a light side hug.  “We'll have fun searching for it.  Um…the kid tells me you also drank three whole bottles of gin?"

“I forget which brand, but it's in the trash at the back.  I can get more."

“Meanwhile, we'll just pour water in the bottle of scotch to make it full.  I have a feeling that one won't be so easily replaced."

“It's a brand my dad drinks.  If we can't find any, I'll just give him a call."

They stand there, looking at the bare front desk, for one more minute.  They can hear the sounds of Tobias opening and closing doors.  Pamila's ears stand at attention at the sound of her jangling car keys.  St. Croix laughs.  “You know, he's going to college in a couple of months.  He tells me that his mom wants him to go to school back in her hometown…in Hawaii.  He says he has no say in it.  So...we got to do his job once he's gone."

“Don't remind me.  I've already done what the little snot does.  I don't intend to do that again."

“Are you gonna hire the new janitor?  'Cuz if you are, you're gonna have to tell him what goes on here.  It'll be one hell of an orientation."

“I'll think of something."

“In the meantime, I'm thinking of preparing a cleaning schedule, complete with a budget for new supplies and a pay scale for those who choose to participate."

“An ultimatum for the executives?"

“Well, I figure we got some bonuses coming our way anyway.  Besides, this place is huge.  We should get money for cleaning it."

She steps away from St. Croix to face him.  Her face is at its most sincere.  “Listen, whatever the kid told you about what I did last night—“

“Forget it, okay?"  He smiles and gives her another hug.  “I'm not Ted and I'm not Shiloh.  They don't give second chances.  I do."

“I just want you to know that I don't mean to hurt the business.  It's the last thing on my mind."

“I know."

Tobias appears, keys in hand, ready to go.  He throws them at the fox who is all too eager to catch them.

"Thanks a lot, boy."

“You're welcome, vulpes vulpes."