DC - Chapter 29

   Panic showed up at 6:00, and bought the minimum. Small club sandwich, no side dish, and water. Officially. Paid his bill and left as far as the register computer was concerned, about 6:20 or thereabouts.

   Unofficially, he got the larger club sandwich, that came with a side dish. In his case, french fries with gravy. He also got a couple of other side dishes, none of which would end up on his bill. And he definitely didn't leave around 6:20. More like between 11:30 and midnight. Monday even in the city isn't the largest and most recognized "party night" if it isn't a holiday or a long weekend connecting to Monday situation.

   Merry had been hanging on him smiling all night, showing him off the way women can when they do the hanging on. Merry engaged at one point with yet another of her games, and it started with her warm lips on his ears, purring into it in a slow, low monotone. He was acutely aware of her warm breath filling his ear with the rhythmic pulsations of her air pressure spurts from whispering.

   "So. Up until now, it's mostly been one, long lesson on one thing. Getting the lovers to be willing to put their mouth anywhere on the other lover's body. Did you notice that?"

   Panic scraped his head on her breasts through the material to say yes. He liked that, too. The seam of the uniform front center zipper wall was a familiar diagonal sweep when he shook his head yes. He found he agreed with most of her suggestions when he shook his head yes on her breasts through her uniform.

   "So, we'll keep that on the menu. Now, we'll start on the next lesson. To build our menu up. Okay?"

   Scrape scrape, scrape scrape.

   "I think we'll do 'bodily fluids' next. You wanna know how we're gonna start?"

   Scrape scrape, scrape scrape.

   "You know this butterscotch pudding I have here, and I've been teasing you, no, you can't have any? Well, you can have some. But only if you take it off my tongue. Okay? Then, if you take it like that. You can have… the whole… dish. Hmm?"

   "So. I'm gonna take a bite of the pudding. No one's noticing. We kiss shortly after I take the bite, okay? It'll be our secret…"

   Merry winked at him, with a little impish smile. Took a little spoon full of the butterscotch pudding he wanted daintily off of her spoon, eyeing Panic and trying not to giggle. They both darted their eyes around, then Merry flicked her chin and they kissed. A couple seconds and their history at the rock candy game allowed them to share the glob of butterscotch pudding.

   Merry wanted to slowly dispose of the entire small side dish he wanted in this fashion. Secret from the crowded restaurant. Panic obliged her.

   He whispered in her ear. She did it back.

   "What does science girl say about all this."

   "Mouth everywhere, if only in the shower for the kinkier things, but… after that? It's bodily fluids. Sharing. It's supposed to be… primal… mammal… pair-bonding…"

   "What's the practical side benefits, in this advanced women's magazine article. I just know it's coming."

   "Science girl read, that the pair is so close, and they share immunity and communicate food tastes. I could have you blindfolded? And still tell you what I'm eating, and do you want any. Without saying a word."

   "Science girl also remembers… different things between the two mammals, initiate specific hormones. All of which feel good, but, sharing food and drink by mouth? Is reported to have been awakening… deep… primal… hormones…"

   "What's the qualifications of the lady that wrote this article?"

   "Admittedly vague. But… she did also write '37 things to make you a complete dirty little slut, with only your man. It'll drive him wild'…"

   "It wasn't actually titled that…"

   "I'm paraphrasing. Something close to that, though, trust me."

   "Did you go to school?"

   "Yes."

   "After high school?"

   "Yes. Not much."

   "Did you get a piece of paper?"

   "I wanted an Associates Degree. Night school. The two year minimum college degree. It's not in a field that pays very well, if you don't keep going to school. I was a little shy of it, when I quit school and got engaged. Before you ask? It didn't last long. Wanna guess how it ended?"

   "Cheating on you, running around. Probably fucking your friends."

   "Yep. We didn't have kids, thank god, so… I was out of there. Gave him his ring back and left. Stayed with my girlfriend for two weeks, until she got me a job at her truck stop, just to get me my own place. Being a waitress full time? Allows a girl to afford if nothing else, a one room everything in one price motel apartment."

   "You never told me what your almost associate was even in that you quit from."

   "You really wanna know? Don't laugh."

   "Promise."

   "Psychology."

   "Hmm. Science girl. It makes sense. What were you supposed to do with the degree, if you got it?"

   "An associates in psychology, is the lowest psychology degree you can get in with. It was supposed to be a ticket to Human Resources in 'any company of any size'."

   "You gave it up?"

   "Yeah. I never was able to locate one of the Human Resources positions, without the paper."

   "Now, science girl researches women's magazines and their crazy articles."

   She scraped her head on his chest, so he could feel it through his T shirt. They left early because Monday was a Monday without a holiday disruption. On the walk home, they held hands like little kids, that is to say without noticing it.

   Turned out science girl's credentials firmly entrenched, her main area of research was anything to do with male-female relationships. It didn't pay at all, but if she could read it for free? She read it. The personal research choice was obvious.

   She had decided to stay in the city on a dare to herself, to see if she could stay there permanently on her own. She knew her friend was a truck stop waitress and pulled it off. The weekly city bus that went by was almost all the waitresses transportation.

   Science girl ended up eventually at the steakhouse because it was within walking distance and paid better.

   Merry got him into her tiny apartment, and asked him if he wanted her that night. Or, did he think science girl would be more fun. Panic picked science girl. She smiled and said she knew he would. He asked if she knew he would say yes because of her extensive field work. She nodded yes and smiled.

   The night's entertainment, and education, was given a running commentary by science girl. Apparently, science girl's 'daydream' was to write and have published what she called the 'authoritative' list on how to be your man's favorite… whatever naughty hook the editors came up with.

   It would bring together shameless combinations of other old articles, and be sorted through by her extensive research. Placed into what she hoped to be the master tome on the subject. Science girl smiled, and told Panic extensive field work was necessary for success in this field.

   She gave him sex all night as per their usual thing, but slowly and in long drawn out patches. She had him take all his food and drink from her own mouth for a while. Between the sex, the hand-rolled cigarettes, and the shared mild exertion… he had predictable cotton mouth. She started letting him drink from a kiss slowly. Mischievously, the way she approached everything like this. Before he got water kisses for his dry mouth, she smiled and had him get moisture out of simply kissing her.

   When she was done with the food and drink sharing, science girl said they were supposed to share a little bit of food and drink now and then, to reinforce and make the animal pair bonding as deep as possible. He was to remember, that this wasn't really food and drink intimacy, this was just an introduction that went along with the bodily fluids theory.

   Tomorrow night, was Science Girl's racquetball night she usually did once or twice a week, usually twice. Did science boy want to walk with her and meet her and her girlfriends to watch them play intramural racquetball in their little night club they maintained. He said he did.

   Science girl informed him he would be sitting there, watching her get all sweaty and under physical exertion. Sweat just pouring out of her, soaking her. Was he okay with that? He said he was. He was informed that sweat was supposed to release hormones and chemicals. It was another animal pair bonding to make out with her directly after watching her exert herself physically. Enjoy her scent. If he liked her sweat and hormones enough to put his mouth on it, it was supposed to make her normal body scent, drive him crazy from then on.

   That was tomorrow night. If science boy wanted, he could both watch her get "drenched in sweat" with her night club and she would sign for a night game for the two of them afterwards. When Panic asked if it was fair she had to play him after being winded, she laughed.

   "Don't worry. Even all warmed up, I promise I won't send you into the wall for stitches. I'll try to show you how to play it, if you're interested. Bring whatever you think you wanna play racquetball in."

   "All right. Tomorrow night is… racquetball."

   "You sure you wouldn't rather go out with the boys?"

   "Let me see. A bunch of in shape girls, I'm allowed to watch you and the girls get… all sweaty, working out? Or, I go out with the guys. Hmm. Racquetball."

   "Okay. We're done with the food and drink game. Except for kiss drinking… I like that one."

   "I'm a fan of the original. Butterscotch pudding. The white chocolate is another winner."

   Merry smiled, and tossed another of the white chocolate quarter sized discs into her mouth. They passed it back and forth, kissing slowly, until all trace of it was gone.

   "So. Science girl needs science boy to help her out with… something."

   "What's that?"

   "I, uh… okay. Me and the racquetball girls? We're all high school sports girls. Athletic. We are… probably a lot more like guys in a locker room than you would suspect."

   "And?"

   "Well. I want you to… mark my ass up a little bit. Leave a nice hand print or two. You see, we kinda show off hand prints, it's an in joke, it's a thing."

   "You girls are all wearing little workout shorts? Showing your asses off running around?"

   Merry smiled.

   "Of course."

   "And you want a hand print mark on your ass. To show off."

   Merry nodded. Shrugged. What was the problem?

   Merry stood up and went and got her workout shorts in hand. She put them on and walked over and bent over and stuck her ass out to demonstrate.

   "When I jump around? See right here… half under the material, half out. What, a nice hand print or three, right there. I want the girls to notice."

   Panic smacked her lower ass cheek where it met her leg.

   "Not like that, silly. My team mates will smack me on the ass harder than that just for scoring. Hard…"

   She shot him another look…

   "What's a girl gotta do, to get some attention around here? Smack my ass!"

   He finally gave her several really hard smacks of his hand. Where it would just peek out in her little workout shorts. Loose but small, who would have thought.

   She kept looking at it, glancing over her shoulder.

   "Well… it stings a little. You think it will leave a mark?"

   "What's with you and the girls. This sounds like high school."

   "Yeah. We were all high school athletes. It's fun. Just from different high schools. We're a club. A workout club."

   "Internet, right Merry?"

   "Of course. One of the few and far between perks of being in the city, is that you can get groups like this together. The internet phone was a revolution."

   "Yeah. I'm nostalgic when the web was huge, but it was still more or less a desktop computer thing. What online they call phone-fags? The joke is, phone-fags ruined the internet."

   "Phone-fags… ruined the internet? What's the other side to being a phone-fag…"

   "A home-fag! That's the gold standard."

   "Whatever. I guess I'm a phone-fag, Panic. You?"

   "I'll… use my laptop for that. I'm a home-fag, originally. But? I will phone-faggot if I have to slum it."

   "That's cute…"

   "What's cute."

   "The play on words? Phone-faggot, passing for phone fag it? It's clever."

   "Well, that's another difference between home-fags and phone-fags. Home-fags used to be able to 'type' on keyboards drinking coffee. You phone-fags introduced all the silly OMG POS bullshit."

   "Well, what was the home-fags great contribution, then?"

   "Perfect spelling. Real words. Big boy words. Grammar. Sense of style, sense of humor. The play on words? Clever? Home-fags tend to be clever."

   "Clever, huh? And, what do us phone-fags tend to be. Clever?"

   "The trend? Not so much. Usually."

   "Hey!"

   Merry pouted and play fought with him.

   "I'm sure these racquetball girls are part of your friends that are on my do not fuck list, right? Why take me to them."

   "I got a guy. I wanna show him off."

   Merry kept glancing at her hand print over her shoulder.

   "This, if it shows? Is just a bonus…"

   "So, I'm guessing your past boyfriends, the assholes. They fucked racquetball girls, right?"

   "Yes. And my jogging club girls. I jog two nights a week. And anything else they can get their greedy little hands on."

   "And, you want me to come and tell you which one asks for my phone number or anything. Same for the jogging girls."

   "That, would be too much to ask for. No one ever told me before, best I ever wanted was just to not be fucking them… telling me? My biker boyfriend was the only one that ever told me."

   "I remember when you said it. That's why I just said it now."

   "You really listen to everything I say, don't you…"

   "Am I supposed to ignore you? You're the only other person I'm with, talking to. How can I ignore you if I even wanted to."

   "See? You're a decent, honest, actual nice guy. That's what's so rare in the city."

   "So… nice science boy is calculating. Tuesday and Thursday are racquetball, what nights are jogging?"

   "Glad you asked. Monday and Wednesday."

   "This is Monday night."

   "Right. I'm going to disappear, for about an hour, hour and a half. When I come back? I'll be… dripping in bodily fluids."

   "Which is a nice way of saying…"

   "Sweating like a piglet."

   "You want to see if I'll make out with you sweaty. Experience your extra hormones and chemicals. Why don't I just go jogging with you."

   "Ooh. You don't have to, but okay."

   "How long do I got to be ready?"

   "Half an hour before I would usually walk to where we meet. What are you gonna jog in?"

   "My work boots, I can run in. I'll wear these work pants, and a T shirt. I have a smaller gun I can tuck inside my waistband. Do… your jogging girls want my ID showing if I run with you? Or no ID."

   "Hmm. I guess you'd probably impress most of the jogging girls if you wore your amusement pass."

   "Will it make you look better? Otherwise I'm not wearing it."

   "No, no… wear it. I guess it's like the hand print on my ass? Just different with the jogging girls. They're not as… boisterous as the racquetball girls. Three or four miles okay with you?"

   "Yeah. I'm fine with that. We're not training times, right?"

   "No. Regular yuppie jogging speed, whatever that is."

   "Do you like jogging with them?"

   "Well, I skipped it the first couple of nights I was with you, what does that tell you? I skipped working out."

   "So you don't like jogging with them, at least not a whole lot."

   "It's better than jogging alone."

   "Well, you're with me. Do you wanna jog with just me?"

   "Hmm. How far?"

   "How far do you want?"

   "Two and a half miles out, two and a half miles back."

   "Will you be sweaty enough for making out then?"

   "Oh… yeah…"

   Panic let her set the pace on their jog, after she told the jogging girls she was going out herself. He enjoyed watching her legs and ass playing peek a boo with him the whole light jog two and a half miles out. She stopped and leaned on her knees panting heavily, almost laughing, mopping her arm across her forehead. Sweat clung and ran off of both her forehead and her arm.

   She led him back. She jogged right up to her tiny second floor motel apartment with him in tow. She ran in, Bitty Kitty in their feet with them. She took her cut off shirt inside out and off. And her little shorts. She nudged her chin at Panic, who went down to his boxers. She stayed in her athletic bra and her underwear.

   She had a fairly large piece of plastic she unwound and dropped down, and they stood on it after they got their footwear off. Merry could just kick off her jogging shoes lined with soft terry cloth when the mood struck her; Panic's boots and socks took more planning and energy.

   Science girl informed him that the plastic was cheap and was rinsed off in the shower to keep it sanitary. Also? In the future, it would return for hot oil night, which was what it sounded like. She stood on the plastic. Dripping sweat. Held her arms out, and wiggled him in with her fingers, smiling.

   She was happy he would hug and kiss her, and embrace her. She wrapped her leg around his. Moved her legs and arms around. She asked if he liked her neck. He reported it smelled and tasted good.

   Science girl wanted her hormones smelled and tasted at her ankles, the backs of her knees, the small of her back, and her neck and throat. He obliged her with that and more, for quite some time.

   "I'm impressed, by the way. You didn't even need a shower this time."

   "So. Do we like each other's scent?"

   Merry smiled.

   "We sure seem to."

   Merry paused and smiled.

   "These sex article tips… there's no way to separate them. Like, bodily fluids are all in one block. We've both been experiencing… each other's… bodily fluids for a while now…"

   "Yeah."

   "Well, let's just both do it at the same time, all right?"

   "Sure."

   "No bath yet?"

   "Science girl can tell me when it's bath time."

   Panic enjoyed the bodily fluids portion of Merry's game. Panic actually had trouble deciding whether Merry was just playing an elaborate fun new boyfriend game, or, if she was mildly or more serious about her master article she craved. Then he stopped and thought. Who cares.

   After they had played a while, and their sweat had turned to dried salt, and even the plastic had dried. Merry checked one last time to make sure they enjoyed each other's scent, a quick little high school make-out of some kind.

   Merry finally announced…

   "We should do something before we bath, I think."

   "We've been doing something."

   "Yes we have. No, not that. Remember your first night over? You thought we were going to watch a movie."

   "Sure. There's actually no movies, though. It's all an elaborate ruse."

   Merry smiled.

   "Do, you wanna watch a movie. And by that I mean, no coffee unless you drink it. Actually watch the movie. I forgot how sweet it was when I figured out you actually thought we were supposed to be watching movies."

   They watched a movie, and Bitty did as well from the foot of the bed in the middle between them. Panic had his boxer briefs back on, and Merry had her sports bra and workout shorts. Panic and the cat both wanted the leftover takeout breaded smelt.

   "So. This portion of the article, this article would be a series of articles, right?"

   "A big one. Yes."

   They were both mildly surprised how little they thought each other smelled, given the run and the sex and the drying off period. They watched the movie. Fell asleep on each other with no bath for once. Panic woke up and touched base at the office, nothing new. Farted around until he escaped for after hours and the planned racquetball. The morning bath and tooth brushing was as fun as the first time.

   He couldn't complain watching from front row seats of a bunch of former high school girl athletes go at it for racquetball intramural. Merry had undersold them; they were raucous and outspoken and loud in nature, just like men's sports teams were.

   After enjoying the show of them both practicing and playing and keeping track, Merry winked at him as it was breaking up. She sat next to him talking until they were alone.

   "I signed us up for an hour. No one else signed anything. This hour of the night? We have the place to ourselves."

   "You aren't sweaty enough for your research already?"

   "We turn the thermostat up in there for this. We work out in half a sauna. I'm gonna turn it up all the way. No one will know."

   "So, we're going to play in even hotter conditions?"

   "I've played a lot over the years. You play racquetball?"

   "Literally a couple times in college, for fun."

   "Okay. Not being rude? I would squash you. I was thinking I should just show you how to play, rather than just put you in stitches."

   Merry showed him to aim for the middle of the wall, nice easy shots with some power to make the trip, but not trying to kill it. She had them go back and forth. Eventually, she put some power out of nowhere, along with a different swing and follow through.

   The ball instead of coming in the middle, went off to her side and behind her. Panic went to race to hit the ball… when she caught him in her arms and they fell to the floor. She was laughing and Panic was confused.

   "Honey… I was showing you. Don't run at the wall like that. Okay? If I was mean, you'd run into the wall and be trying to whack up near your head with the racket, and…"

   "Racquetball stitches?"

   Merry nodded making a face.

   "Common. That's how you get them. You see how I had you charging the wall? You charge the wall with the ball around your head and shoulders, you'll get racquetball stitches. Would you rather practice?"

   He nodded.

   They went back to a short while of practicing. The heat had quickly gotten oppressive. Not quite a sauna, but close. Merry turned out the lights in the court and told him to stand still so they didn't get a black eye running into each other.

   They had a final class in bodily fluids. On Merry's beach towel in the middle of the court, in the heat of the dark.

   Done, they still sweated even when relaxed.

   "Merry?"

   "Yes."

   "You make me feel like I'm in high school again. Sneaking off to make out."

   "It's fun, isn't it?"

   "Yes. It is."

   They walked back to Merry's apartment slowly. Arm in arm.

   "You got that look. Like you're getting ready to ask me something."

   "Yeah. Me and Speedy are talking about a week off. Do you want to come with us?"

   "Well, where is it you're both going for your little vacation?"

   "It's a big piece of land, in the middle of nowhere. All the farmhouses are zoned as hunting camps. The town and area are based on that."

   "I heard you talk about George's property before. You and Speedy are going to meet your… internet friends and have a shooting contest?"

   "More or less."

   "What do we do other than shoot? I'm one of the non shooters."

   "Jogging. Hiking. Kayaking. Fishing. Bait shop. Swimming. Town. You know how we end every other sentence with 'blah blah city blah blah', eh?"

   "Yes."

   "This is not the city. This is the complete opposite. We do nothing except sleep in and bum around as early or as late as we feel like."

   "Aren't you going to be shooting a lot?"

   "You don't have to be a non shooter. We give little kids a 22 single shot with a scope and let them have fun. It's like shooting a BB-gun."

   "Maybe. You say this goes on for a week?"

   "We're thinking a week. I was wondering about you and work, and if you'd want to come."

   "I can afford to take a week off of work, if that's what you need to know."

   "You sure?"

   "Yeah."

   "Affording it is one thing, can you?"

   "I can't remember the last time I took off. I could."

   "Do you enjoy the country?"

   "I grew up in a little town. Little farms turned into big yards."

   "Yeah, but now you're a city girl."

   "What kind of clothes should I bring?"

   "Let me give you my best check out, okay?"

   "All right."

   "Hiking boots? Or your jogging shoes."

   "I have both…"

   "Jeans?"

   "Check."

   "T shirts?"

   "Check."

   "Hoodie?"

   "Check."

   "Underwear and socks then, what do you think you need. You have something resembling a backpack, or a duffel bag, you're good to go. Toothbrush, a towel and a washrag and a bar of soap."

   "Well… if we're going to be outdoors? I wanna wear my Indian shoes."

   "Moccasins?"

   "Not exactly. Here, I'll show you…"

   Merry went off into the bathroom, and returned shortly back to him, showing off her knee high lace up leather "Indian shoes" as she had nicknamed them.

   "Do you have a leather miniskirt and leather tube top to go with that ensemble?"

   "Pretty much. Here, I'll show you…"

   She took out what looked to be a leather thong that went around her waist. A long leather loincloth went in the back… down and around… then up, over, and down the front after she arranged it.

   "That's the leather Indian underwear…"

   She tied on what looked to be a really short and loose miniskirt, but she offered a disclaimer.

   "I know it looks like a mini? It's another kind of underwear."

   "Why different kinds? Winter and summer?"

   "No, silly. A young girl…"

   And Merry indicated the flat piece of leather going in, down and around, and up and out and over once again… after covering up her naughty bits.

   Merry's fingers flourished to the "leather miniskirt" she wrapped loosely around her waist.

   "A young girl, wears a solid piece of leather. You can see most of her, but… a woman? With a man… you want the man to be able to get at you."

   Merry tied the mini on loosely, raised her hands to let him see both at once, then tugged it back off to return to the solid soft leather loincloth.

   "Which underwear will you be taking?"

   Merry smiled.

   "I was thinking we need both… and finally, the skirt itself."

   It was much more "sedate" in appearance and covered past her boot tops and up to above her hips.

   "Which Indian tribe ran around in a sports bra?"

   "Oh. You're funny. Here's my two shirts."

   One was the long sleeves what you would expect, and the other? Was basically a piece of leather she tied around her breasts. The leather tube top earlier joshed about.

   "So, as you can see… I can wear the one outfit in public… and… the other when I'm relaxing indoors…"

   "In the future? The Indian clothes can always get packed for any trips we make. In fact, I'm pretty much trying to figure out some rule to forbid you to ever leave them at home when we pack for a trip. If I have to be honest."

   "I see. Do you wonder why I have all this stuff? I have the purse too… a little bit of jewelry."

   "Hmm. The leather mini and the leather loincloth? I might have guessed hooker or stripper… but, I have to admit the dress and long sleeve shirt look like something off of a history documentary on cable."

   "When I was young, my one uncle used to take me with his kids to the rendezvous. People mainly do mountain men or Indians. We did Indians, by the way. How much money do I need to take with me? I have no idea where we're going."

   "Well. You honestly don't need much. Where are we gonna go, it's a really small town."

   "Where did you hang out when you went to town?"

   "There's a mom and pop donut shop… and a local pizza shop. And a simple small town diner."

   "You said we'll do the campfire thing…"

   "Yes."

   Panic enjoyed having her at George's gigantic nowhere property. Once she settled down and forgot to be nervous about being out of her city element, she began to have fun.

   After a week of relaxing and either sleeping or doing next to nothing, they were back. Late at night, they were laying next to each other, when Panic gently brought up the trip.

   "You now know where I always told you I was going to go for a vacation, when all this craziness is over."

   "It's… quiet."

   "Well, I'm supposed to stay there and get the shooting range 'off the ground and running', and to have a vacation while I'm at it. You just visited for a week and saw what things would be like on the regular. Would you consider leaving this damn city?"

   "I might, I might not. What would I do?"

   "You don't have to do much of anything, really. Not being rude, but, you really won't cost me anything to keep you at the shooting range."

   "What about when that's done. You'll go home again, won't you?"

   "I thought I would ask you to go with me. Get out of the city permanently."

   "I've never not had a job since as far back as I can remember…"

   "Look at it this way. What's your city rent on this motel room. Over a grand a month, right?"

   "1500, and it's all in one price. Includes high speed internet and your own thermostat."

   "Right. I have an old house in an old small town. I only pay a couple hundred dollars a year for taxes on the place. You're used to one room? I'll give you two, three, four rooms."

   "You mean instead of 1500 a month, you only spend a couple hundred bucks a year? For taxes instead of rent?"

   "Yep."

   "Hell, I'd probably get a waitress job part time somewhere, just to keep from being bored."

   "See, we're talking about it, that's good. That's enough for now. I'm going to take a long nap."

   Panic's frame of reference was upended abruptly. Instead of waking up blissfully in the morning light… he woke up with hissing in his ear. Insistent hissing. A hand over his mouth, clamped down. His nose was free though, they weren't trying to smother him.

   "Shh…"

   Merry kept her light pressure on his mouth, and shushed in his ear insistently again. It finally woke him up enough he had a limited amount of his wits about him and what was going on.

   "Are you awake?"

   Panic shook his head yes.

   "Okay. Be quiet…"

   She released his mouth. He stayed rock still, he had played this game before in Central America, but he didn't want to annoy her with that story right now. He needed the basic facts. He began to quiz her.

   Mouth on ears, their entire conversation…

   "Quickly. What's going on."

   Merry pointed at the door.

   "Bitty Kitty saw it first. He kept going over and going to the door. Looking up at the door. That's when I saw what Bitty Kitty is looking at. The handle is moving a little bit, every once in a while. Watch."

   Panic had hunted before, and did what he did if he had to move and a deer was nearby. You tried to move your body so slowly it barely looked like it was moving. In what would have taken time lapse photography to prove it even had happened at all, Panic got his gun rig on.

   Merry asked what they should do. Panic held his finger up to wait, he was calculating. He didn't like playing on hunches like Speedy did. Shit. His intuition told him this was not good. Speedy had drilled it into his head it usually isn't a coincidence. His gut wrenched up enough it silently told him this was probably no ordinary robbery attempt.

   Guessing this was bad then, was to guess it was really bad. Beating on the door, surrounding them, poking them in the chest… that would be the appropriate actions to provide a show of force. This? Was the opposite. In the middle of the night, sneaking in. Not bad… really bad.

   Panic's instant response he entertained was what did he have? He had the element of surprise. They were being quiet and slow and deliberate, they didn't know they had an awake quarry. His instinct was to attack them with surprise. Shove the A/C unit out the window, hopefully onto one of them. Shoot out the window several times and scatter them, hopefully get one or two. Back them up. Let them know they were facing a hardened opponent.

   He liked this. He smiled at the prospect. Turning the tables disrupted all plans… but no. He was here with Merry. He had to act more conservatively. Speedy and whoever else that quizzed him later on? Were going to want to know what the hell he was thinking, no matter what the hell he did… it had better be the choices of a choir boy.

   Panic realized he had no way of knowing if there were one or many out there. He tried to guess who, and their purpose. Bikers? Didn't seem to make any sense, and this didn't seem like their MO even if it was. Besides, they protected Merry all this time, just to turn on her? No. Who else was Merry at odds with, anyways. Cops. If it wasn't an ordinary robbery attempt, then it was the cops. If they just wanted to let themselves in, to snoop? Or even to plant "fake "evidence"? You come in when she's at work. In the middle of the night, though… that was an entirely different thing altogether. It was a hit.

   "Merry… is there any way out of here, or a place to hide?"

   "Well… just the Bitty Kitty hole."

   "Show me the Bitty Kitty hole. Quietly…"

   Merry crept into the bathroom, and Panic crept after her. Merry pointed at the little metal access door that led to the plumbing. Bitty Kitty had gotten in there once when the workers left the door open. Merry had been back in there coaxing the young cat out.

   Panic used a nail file on the flat-head screw top and swung the little access door open. It would be a tight squeeze. A big cast iron pipe that appeared to be substantially big in diameter and in thickness as well, ran right in front of the door. Once you could get past that Merry said, it opened up to crawl into the back, and to the other apartments down the floor.

   Merry had done this once before, getting back to Bitty Kitty way back when. She wedged her body up and over the big cast iron pipe, and it got stuck. She grabbed and pulled and pushed, and she wedged through in slow motion, exhaling as she squeezed in.

   Panic followed her. Merry tugged on his arm to help him through. No room to stand up. You had to crawl as little more than a snake, you couldn't even get up truly on all fours. You were temporarily less than an animal. You became a human snake. Darkness and dry dirt. Panic quietly replaced the door behind them by leaning over the big pipe and they crawled back into the abyss. Bitty Kitty had followed the two of them and no one wanted to raise any noise arguing about who was going with.

   Panic could hear a voice. He was the last behind the far end of where they could go before they turned. They had trench crawled down the rut and over and beyond a matching cast iron pipe. Between the first pipe and now this second one, and all the loose clay dirt… Panic actually for the moment felt like he had great cover.

   Panic didn't like the violation of choir boy activity. Firing first at admittedly lord only knew who? Well, that seemed to clearly violate choir boy chapter and verse. More Speedy gut guessing. No beating on the door. None of the normal "Police!" followed by your choice. "Come out with your hands up" and "We have a warrant" were two popular choices. None of that. Trying the door handle like thieves.

   He got his gun out and ready. Aimed towards the little metal door. After a matter of seconds, the little door opened, and a face of shadow appeared in it. Panic put a round what he just knew was fairly near that head. He couldn't possibly actually aim in the complete darkness, with dark shadows for light. He tried to place one over the cast iron pipe and near where he figured a head would be.

   He didn't get the guy, but he was rewarded with a series of hushed curses. He had at least sent a message by ringing the thick steel door like a gong. The man wasn't sticking his head out any more though, that would slow him down. He holstered his gun and crawled up and practically over Merry to speak in her ear in the dark loose clay dirt they were immersed in.

   "What room should we try to come out of, Merry?"

   "Third one down is some old retired guy. Drinks a lot and watches TV. You thinking what I'm thinking? Getting away?"

   "Hell yeah. If I can get you out and moving, I'm gonna confront whoever just broke into our room with the door locked… if it's one maybe two guys. Or follow you… if it's a full team of assholes. I'm winging it. You pick the room. Go. Lead. Quietly."

   Merry inched her dirty way through the dusty clay dirt. She reversed the way in on another room. The inside of the metal plate had a tab you just turned. They started crawling out into the bathroom of a neighbor several rooms down the line. They could hear the TV playing loud in the next room.

   Panic took his gun out and walked in and aimed his gun down at the floor. The shocked senior citizen looked at him in horror. Half clothed and half unclothed. Covered from head to toe in enough dirt he looked like a chimney sweep. Merry was in the same condition.

   "Shh."

   Panic and Merry shushed him together.

   "Look. We're not gonna hurt you, sir. Someone is breaking into our room down the hallway, and we escaped. We're out of here, lock the door behind us, sir. There might be gun-play…"

   "Can I call the cops?"

   "Sure, just call them quietly. And wait for us to get out and gone first…"

   At the door, Panic pointed and shoved Merry to run that direction. When she was at the end of the row and down the far steps, Panic changed his focus from seeing her off, to who was in Merry's room. He peeped around the old man's door, and saw that their door was now wide open. No team standing around the wide open door. No cop cars. No cop car lights and no cute little cop command center they quickly create anywhere they go officially.

   He quickly made the snap decision to attain that door. Peeping around it, he caught a look at someone or something around the bathroom. Panic was used to the woods. He counted quickly to three in his head, then came out. He wished Speedy were here for this, clearing rooms in a fun house drill was not his practiced well oiled thing. It was Speedy's world.

   Coming around and up the door, he had been just about to get his gun up and into aim. The only thing that made him hesitate for just a fraction of a second, was the man holding up some badge case, saying "Police!" authoritatively. That was an almost fatal hesitation.

   Slowed down by the momentary reflex of the man claiming to be "police". Gun already out, so his quick-draw artistry offered him no advantage. The man had obviously done this before, he was way too polished at it.

   As soon as he announced "Police!" all authoritatively, he instantly opened fire at the same time. Panic took that round on his left shoulder; it felt like a really hard punch, maybe being struck with a carpet covered brick was the best way to describe it. This blow drove his right shoulder forwards as the left shoulder got struck rearwards, and folded back with the impact.

   His right hand had been coming up with his gun anyways. Accidentally thrust into one of his normal shooting positions, he just aimed freehand with his right hand, and started delivering slow, aimed fire. He quit when his slide stayed back, then the man slid down the bathroom doorway. Twitched once. Then stopped moving permanently.

   Temporarily ignoring his shoulder, Panic had to assess what just went on. Going through the guy's pockets quickly, he came up with a weird looking hand held device he was sure he knew exactly what it was. A rake-pick with a trigger for speed. It would softly vibrate randomly off of the pins, and some of them would catch one by one. He no longer feared he had killed a cop in the pursuit of any of his legitimate duties. This one had come in to kill either him or Merry, most likely Merry. He wasn't sorry about the outcome. He spoke softly to the man laying there. He knew the human brain lives after death a short time. He would hear his quiet words.

   "Fuck you, and die…"

   Heart beating harder from animal fight or flight mechanisms… Panic had no choice but to enjoy a Speedy style gut reading. He needed to post someone here, to stop anyone from any more monkey business. The old man down the hall? Seemed like the best suspect.

   Panic somewhat calmly walked down to the man's door, and politely rapped on it several times before it got answered.

   "Hello sir. It's me again. Can we talk for a second?"

   "Uh… sure."

   "Okay. Number one thing here? I'm not a cop, I'm a private citizen, am I making myself clear? I'm a consultant for the FBI though, and here's my badge… see?"

   Panic had handed him the ID, and let him look at it, look up at himself, see it was really him. Heft it, touch it, make a hunch on whether it was genuine or false.

   "What do you want with me then?"

   "I want you… to stand in front of Merry's door? And not go in, but stand guard until real cops get there. So there's a witness. Can you do that for me?"

   "I guess I could, but… how do I know when the real cops get there, as you say?"

   "Oh. Easy. You tell anyone you want, that you won't leave until you get to talk to Speedy, he's an FBI consultant, and he's also a state cop. Here… take my drivers license with you. When you finally get to talk to Speedy? Show him my drivers license to convince him that I personally told you to wait there."

   About to leave, he turned and added on his heel…

   "Better yet… go in and look at how the body is laying. Stay back, don't touch anything. I want you to see the little tool by his hand. I don't want anyone monkeying with the scene. You as a witness? You make that impossible. You POST up on that door after you look? And you refuse to move from that door. Until Speedy gets there, right?"

   "Okay."

   Panic now fled in the direction he had sent Merry off in. Down the steps and off to the opposing corner down the block. He had grabbed both his own and Merry's cell phones, as well as rifled a few things up and into his backpack that he felt were important. On the jog off to try to find Merry from her last known direction, he felt a slight panic if he would find her at all… when he heard a voice yell "hey!".

   He darted into the alley and stood upright. He trusted that voice.

   "Over here. Behind the dumpster…"

   He walked up and sat down next to her.

   Merry looked like she was in mild shock. Because she naturally was.

   "What happened?"

   "I won. I only got shot once, I swear I must have put like 14 fucking rounds into that asshole. 14 to 1? I'm winning that one…"

   "You said you got shot?"

   "Not bad, but yeah. Number one thing is that we're both okay, and we're out of there. I posted the neighbor to watch the scene until Speedy arrives. That's covered… now? Let's get me to the fucking hospital so I can get a couple of stitches…"

   "We're, like, four city blocks from the hospital."

   "Fuck response times. I'll be there walking before they get here driving the meat wagon. Let's get moving. You lead me. I should be good for loss of blood, for at least half an hour before I begin to really slow down. A couple blocks. We're good. Let's go?"

   They set off. Using the rest of whatever adrenaline he had gotten out of the life threatening situation to keep him moving on the short, light jog to the nearest real emergency room. His precious FBI consultant's ID should guarantee him quick aid. He looked at himself and at Merry. They both naturally looked like absolute hell.

   Her filth and manner of dress, combined with Panic's own… then the blood over the dirt from the gunshot wound just capped their whole look off. The ensemble? Said "crazy lunatics, with bullet holes in them!".

   The emergency room door? Was locked shut and tight. Panic and Merry both banged on it. A game of charades then began. Charades between themselves, violent crime victims? And the hospital admittance staff. Apparently you had to first pass a game of charades to get into the emergency room, because the lady was gesticulating and pointing.

   Her pointing and motions resumed after Panic punched the thick safety glass sliding door once, lightly, in frustration. In his mind, he might well bleed to death standing on salvation's doorstep. The hell even was the whole point of an open all night emergency room, if they locked it up tight like a department store closed for the night. A hospital is a business, you need clients to make any money. Locking the door to prevent customers getting access? Made no sense.

   Merry locked eyes with the woman, and followed her gaze over… and saw a little gray box with a button. She yanked Panic's wrist, and pointed at it…

   He punched the button.

   "Gun shot victim. Small caliber. Left shoulder. May I come in and get the lead out of me?"

   The tall fat nurse looked back at him funny. His appearance, he thought. She buzzed the door open and he walked in. He handed her his FBI badge.

   "I'm a civilian consultant. There's my badge. I will not disarm, not for anyone, except an FBI agent with a real badge. No city cops. No security guards. Here… take this number, and tell them to send Speedy."

   "Merry? You stay with me, and hold my gun rig. You only give it to Speedy, and you stay with me until he gets here, okay?"

   She shook her head yes, and she helped him off with his rig. This put the hospital staff into a much sweeter mood. The cute, dirty, non-shot woman? Had the gun rig now, and she wasn't going for the gun either. The man's FBI ID spoke volumes to them as well as anything else. Other than Merry following him around like a mother duck following her duckling, two nurses guided Panic gently by either arm. Led him into a room in the emergency room, and had someone over to look at his shoulder.

   "Well doc? I don't think it's that bad, is it?"

   "Well, it's not good now, is it. I think if I aggressively stitch everything together twice… I honestly don't see any bad arterial flow. You're moving your arm, hand, fingers. No tendons cut. The shoulder ball and socket? Seems intact. You got lucky. It grazed your left shoulder. Exit wound in line with the initial injury. Through and through. Another inch? It would have sent bone shards around, from the shoulder blade. You have a guardian angel."

   "Well… I made it. Good shit."

   "Are you curious what happened to the other man back at the…"

   "Is he dead? He's the one who shot me. I got two witnesses."

   The emergency room doctor didn't voluntarily confirm it. He only shook his head yes vigorously, then looked around conspiratorially. Panic got the hint. He couldn't tell him the other "patient's" information under normal circumstances, but in this instance, with his ID badge and calm demeanor, the man let him know he had won his gunfight.

   "Doc? Do I need to be under? Or, can you go local."

   "I could go either way. You have a preference?"

   "A gallon of Lidocaine, so I can get through this fun experience awake. If I can."

   The doctor grabbed at his shoulder dispassionately. Nodded yes. Went about starting to prep for advanced stitches. He soon had a younger nurse in tow, who followed his orders to the letter. She was a well oiled extension of himself, they had done this before and drilled on it; it was all too obvious.

   The doctor gave Panic a running commentary of who was at the door while he was working on closing his wound. The name "Speedy" finally got announced in the crowd one too many times. Panic told the doctor to get Speedy in here. No one else.

   Speedy whisked the door shut behind him.

   "What the hell is going on?"

   "That dead cop at the scene? Was there some old man in a stained T shirt standing guard at the door? Had my drivers license?"

   "Yeah. I got your license. He said someone broke into your room and tried to shoot you, and you got away."

   "Yeah. I got kissed by whatever he was carrying and couldn't shoot very well…"

   "Well. You sure tagged the guy. Who died with a badge on the floor, and a gun at his side."

   "Did you find the rake on the floor? It's how he got in. A rake pick. An automatic one."

   "Yeah. They found it. Panic, have you talked to anyone about this yet?"

   "I specifically asked for Speedy… advise me… I got my own backup plan, if you don't wow me with yer guess…"

   "Are you swearing to god this guy came for you, and not the other way around?"

   "Swear to god, Speedy."

   "All right. I was gonna suggest, you call your FBI IA friend. What were you thinking?"

   "I was… ouch, more Lidocaine! Yeah, exactly what I wanted to do. Thanks."

   "Speedy? How about you call him. Card's in my wallet. Pants pocket. Ask him if he has any idea, off the record, who that guy on the floor back there is? I'm betting he's gonna know him."

   "You think they misjudged the sweet nature of dirty cops, and you got lucky and survived a hit? Cause that's all I can figure just happened…"

   "Same for me. He yelled police, and fired all at once. It's how he got the drop on me, or I might not have gotten this little souvenir of my stubborn nature. Call the IA number, fill him in on what just happened to me. He can text you back quick if it's a guy in the bad crew he's running the game on. What are the odds, you wanna guess?"

   "Pretty good, I'm guessing."

   "Well, can you go and do that phone call and texting? I wanna concentrate on getting sewed up here. This is fun, I don't wanna miss a second of it…"

   While Speedy stood outside the door in the hallway, cell in one hand, business card in the other… a man approached flashing a card around.

   "IA here…"

   Speedy held out the business card he had been given.

   "Has to be this guy at IA, my buddy says."

   The man looked at the card.

   "That's me…"

   "Well, how do I know that?"

   The man smiled, and took out a stack of exact identical business cards that matched in every way. Handed him at least six or eight to look at. Who but that person would have the cards.

   Speedy led him back into the room. Waited outside for the man to go in and have a brief talk with Panic. Speedy stood guard outside the room and waited for the impromptu meeting to end. Speedy was prepared for a long wait, debriefing on a fatal shooting.

   The guy was out of there in a couple short minutes.

   Speedy stepped in front of the man to politely but firmly block his path and smiled.

   "Hi. I'm Speedy. What do I need to know?"

   "What do you want to know? My offer to share friendly with him in there? He said 'and Speedy too' after everything we said. Ask me anything…"

   "Did he just get fucking shot over your bullshit you got him involved in?"

   "Arrests were coming in a couple weeks. We obviously didn't think they would do anything like this…"

   "So, it was one of them? Part of the crew you and the city IA are watching? It's one of them that came for him, right?"

   "Yeah. It was. I'm sorry."

   "So, what's the dirty city cops name?"

   "Which one?"

   "What do you mean, which one… the dead one, that's who…"

   "Not dead city cop. Dead FBI agent. What made you say city cop?"

   "Panic said he yelled "police" and held up what looked like a city badge."

   "Oh. That? Wasn't a real badge. The guy had an FBI badge on him in a case and everything. The police shield, was real? But fake. Badge number reported stolen a ways back."

   "Jesus H. Christ…"

   "Not exactly. This guy was an asshole. I was investigating him and a number of others, in both the FBI and the local police force. Coordinating with City IA on this one. We… obviously underestimated them… we didn't think they would…"

   "Well? They did. What now?"

   "What now, in what way?"

   "No charges, right?"

   "Charges on who?"

   "Him!"

   Speedy jabbed his thumb at the door that led to Panic. Held up his State Trooper badge case and closed it.

   "No, no charges. Why would there be? The guy's lucky he escaped with his life. The others are naturally being rounded up as we speak. A couple weeks early, but, what the hell."

   "So… we got nothing to worry about after this?"

   "No. We'll have most of them in custody in the next 24 hours, a few stragglers in hiding aside."

     "Mr. IA… let me ask you a question. Don't you find it strange and a little extreme for your IA investigation to have a prime bad guy come gunning for my investigator?"

   The IA looked at him. Funny, Speedy would later recall. Looked at him funny strange.

   "You don't know, then?"

   "Know what?"

   "The dead FBI agent? He wasn't there to kill your friend, he was most likely there to kill the girl. She became a witness a long time ago to a dirty FBI agent about to now… finally go down. She was a possible key witness that would be icing on the cake for their case. You see, the dead guy isn't half as important as who his partner is… that girl's ex. He's the dirty FBI agent. Running a city crew of bullshit behind the scenes."

   "You want me to believe, your agent under investigation sent his partner, to kill the girl… and didn't expect to run into Panic?"

   "That's what I'm thinking. Follow me on this. They sent one guy, to try to get one girl. Single room apartment. They expected an armed response? They would have brought two, three guys. No, he surprised them. They acted just on her name, and the single room apartment."

   "No intelligence, before a cowboy run like that up there?"

   "Think, Speedy… if they might've ever did it before. How routine this might be to them. Here's my best guess, for what it's worth. Off the record for now."

   "Naturally."

   "We try to bring in the exact wrong person. On accident. We didn't know they were loyal to the group from back in the day, just didn't participate."

   "Go on."

   "Well. The wrong person sees evidence, and pretends to be on board temporarily, but… later dummies up and lawyers up and ran and told what they saw right before they dummy up. Bad guys? You see, most of a case like this… it's who was working that night, had to have covered it up. Who had to have falsified the paperwork later. Who edited the video down to make it look different."

   "The girl was a live witness to bad motive and bad intent. It's a whole lot more convincing than schedules and my office's dry explanation. Look, Speedy? Bad apples in my organization, they go through a kind of a routine. They start out seeming okay, maybe selfish. But… they usually tend to go through a period of acting out. Throwing their weight around… before they settle down and go underground and really turn into a bad apple."

   "The girl is privileged to have experienced this portion of the bad apple's development."

   "Yes. She is… she's also a main link to putting the bad FBI apple, in bed with the bad City Apples."

   "How so?"

   "The cops on the video, laughing at her and the employees all three times they call the city cops on the FBI's drunken wives."

   "Her testimony? From back in time when the bad apples were acting out, not watching their behavior yet? Oh, that's gold for a jury to hear, you gotta see that, right? It crowns my schedules and my theory. It brings my case to life for the jury."

   "You're golden testimony? Probably won't happen, and I'm not trying to rain on your parade. That girl in there hovering over him like her puppy broke it's fucking leg? She ain't gonna talk, I'll bet on that. She tried to talk, back when the FBI was sending their wives to assault her. The city cops just laughed and left."

   "I… was hoping that maybe now, she might testify against the FBI agent…"

   "She went and got a biker boyfriend back then. That was the best protection she could find. Any port in a storm, right? Self preservation. That's why she won't talk to you now."

   "You're… investigator… in there?"

   "He has a name. His name is Panic."

   "Yes. Panic. He magically got her to explain exactly what the bad apple had done that day way back when. It's only been a couple years, there's no statute of limitations going off any time soon on that set of crimes. I don't think you understand, Speedy. Those three city cops that laughed at the employees and left?"

   "Okay…"

   "Do you have any idea how many people are going to get indicted because of that video? First off, I got dates and times. Three calls to 911. I got some 911 phone bank worker, that is going to get their ass ripped off with a fucking cheese grater, that's just for starters."

   "Who else?"

   "Oh, fuck me… the 911 worker. The other 911 workers all three nights? They were obviously used to ignoring calls if they were told to. That's illegal. They either didn't tell anyone? Or, their paperwork was altered and lost. Either way, the 911 workers are in trouble, or, their superiors are gonna get grilled. There's no other two ways about that situation."

   "How do you know so much about the city cops system?"

   "The other IA is city IA, remember?"

   Speedy grinned and nodded.

   "Right… go on…"

   "Those three cops? Another three bad apples who will several years later go on to much more illustrious deeds. This is their little snowball. What kind of sergeant doesn't know what calls his crew is answering and ignoring. Better yet, what about their office sending them. Every person that signed or didn't sign paperwork? Is under the microscope now. Also, what the fuck happened to the city body cams footage, huh?"

   Speedy made a wan little smile…

   "I assume you already have any other witnesses in custody for protection now, right?"

   "As we speak… it's obvious we had a huge leak, right?"

   "I suppose so, now that you mention it."

   "We trusted the wrong person. Tried to bring the wrong person in, I guess."

   "That's putting it mildly…"

   "You see, Speedy… her boyfriend FBI agent? Worked in the office that coordinates interaction officially between outside law enforcement and the FBI. Him being shown to be picking up the phone, and getting city calls ignored? That's another big ball of wax for both his IA and the City IA."

   Speedy grabbed his own chin and held the other elbow supporting it. Hunching. Thinking.

   "The girl, is once again your prime centerpiece. Her testimony. Her worker's testimony. Her boss's testimony. The unedited video they copy just to watch and make fun of."

   The IA smiled at Speedy. Nodded with him…

   "Yes. And once again? As you said, she likely won't talk. At least not willingly. You know we don't want to arrest and forcibly bring in a witness in a jumpsuit. That doesn't impress a jury. Have to treat her as a probably hostile witness. Will only say yes or no to specific questions. A lawyer appointed over her and hovering over her every yes or no answer. Oh no, that's hell… That? Would send my case right back to just dry schedules and theory."

   "You want Panic to try to talk her into it. Don't you. They almost got killed. What further motivation are you giving the girl to trust you?"

   "She gets revenge on the FBI. Revenge on the city cops. Star witness treatment."

   "And you get your icing on the cake, I noticed."

   "It's my job to try to do it the best way I can."

   "Which is?"

   "I have to subpoena the same people and try to get the same testimonies out there. I have mostly all dry schedules and timetables showing who was always working together the night whatever kinky shit went down."

   "You have the video now…"

   "Yes. But I want willing witnesses. Not my main witness in handcuffs and an orange jumpsuit. Pleading the 5th every ten seconds. I don't want that. That's what I got now. That's what I got before this. But now? You're investigator waved his magic little dick around, and I got my information."

   "Her information, as you put it? Could get her hurt or killed. Put yourself into her mindset. The local cops were in on it… the FBI was in on it… no, she'll probably obey whatever biker code exists, and refuse to tell you shit unless you poke her with a cattle prod in front of a jury. Handcuffed to the chair to keep her ass in the chair long enough to get yes and no answers, along with dirty looks. Do you blame her?"

   The FBI IA senior guy on this dilemma sighed "no". Waved his receding hair back with his fingers in a nervous tic.

   "What do you want me to do?"

   "Would you… ask him if he'll try to talk to her?"

   "Right now? He's in there getting stitched up. She's in a mild shock, she'll probably wanna kiss his boo boo all night. He's alone in a strange city, no family, no friends other than badges. A badge just tried to kill him. It might not be the right time to ask him to see if he'll flip his girlfriend over for you, so you can fuck her."

   The IA guy smiled and his eyes showed warmth and humor at Speedy's tight analysis of the situation. Speedy's forthright and bold viewpoint, made the man realize Speedy was no pedestrian to this world.

   "I forget. You're a state cop."

   "Hey. I do all of this. I just do it at the state level. You do this at the federal level. I just wanted to let you know I know the game. Hell, my buddy back home in my state? He's IA for my home team."

   "Is it guaranteed to be the wrong time? In my experience, people in a mild shock have a chance to see things clearly… maybe try another course of action…"

   "Wait here…"

   Speedy disappeared into the room and shut the door quietly behind him.

   "Panic?"

   "Yeah Speedy…"

   "You're… IA friend is out there."

   "What does he want? I already talked to him…"

   Speedy eyeballed him silently. This made Panic shut up and wonder what Speedy was up to. Speedy's eyes slowly drifted over in the direction of Merry, then slowly back to stare at Panic again. He did this a couple times.

   Panic gave the slight imperceptible nod of his head.

   "Bring him in."

   "You sure?"

   "Yeah…"

   The doctor scowled, as did the nurse who stayed silent while her doctor complained freely about what went on in his room.

   "Okay. You're getting your arm sewed back together, we might as well have a goddamn party in here… let's all remember something, shall we? This is my patient. This is my room. No one interrupts this…"

   Speedy led the man waiting outside in, and he stood quietly at soft attention. If he had a hat as men in the past wore them? It would be in his hand literally, though now he was hat in hand standing there only metaphorically.

   "Hello. I can just about guess what you want."

   Panic held his free index finger up. Smiled. So far, Merry didn't know she was being talked about. Like a little kid in the room. She was staring at Panic's shoulder, watching the doctor sew him up. Panic wanted to keep it that way.

   "Look. I agree with you. It's just not my call… but for what its worth, I agree with you about it. But… not… my… call… now, if you wanted me to try? I would. I don't think it would be very expensive to try. What would I need? I'd want a… a gas card. A card for pizza and the doughnut shop. Two weeks? Hey doctor… you're going to recommend rest and relaxation for a couple weeks, right?"

   "Sir? Tomorrow morning, you're arm is going to feel like it got sewed to your hip… it will take a couple weeks to get range of motion without pain back."

   "Am I allowed to drink beer or brandy for this phase of my recovery?"

   "Officially? No. Unofficially? Pretty much everyone mixes booze with their pain medications. I can't recommend it."

   "What if I don't have any pain medication? Or, I quit taking it after a day or three, how about then?"

   "If you recuperate on your own? With no pain pills? A small amount of alcohol would be appropriate. Don't go nuts and open the stitches up. Improvement should come about ten days in… and get better from then on out. You'll get a pamphlet on what to watch the wound for, just in case. Any weird redness or bad smell, you get to the nearest emergency room, but, that's rare. I'm not putting a drain tube in, so, there's no real aftercare. The stitches top layer will be removed, that's all."

   "You want… a gas card. Card good for couple weeks pizza and donuts and coffee. What's the hotel prices like?"

   "No hotel. I'll provide my own accommodations. I'll be surrounded by armed men, some of them hunting wild pigs at night. With night vision and hunting rifles. In an unregistered hunting cabin. Trust me, I'll be safer that way, that's my theory on it. I wanna sleep good, and that'll do it for me. We stay here? Fucking city cops are going to do a drive by on us, the second they figure out they screwed the hit up."

   "This is easy. This is cheap. Anything else?"

   "Yes. Me and Speedy? We're here, on our own fucking case. I want me and Speedy kept out of the cameras, you get me? Speedy? Am I right about that?"

   "We don't want any publicity. We don't want our case compromised."

   "Dead FBI agent. Under investigation by IA already got a record a mile long with us. IA's all over it. He's got a fake badge in one hand, and his firearm in another. His FBI badge case is buried inside his pockets. I really don't need much right now in the way of an interview. It's normal for IA to spend months looking into something. It doesn't arouse any suspicion."

   "Road trip. Gas. Pizza and donuts. Cabin. Couple weeks. Then I'll see what I can do for you… and I keep my Fed carry permit and consultancy for now, deal?"

   He glanced at Panic, nodding. Glanced briefly at Merry. Humming softly still staring at the now rapidly closing hole in the side of his shoulder. Mild shock. He might know how to maneuver her in conversation. Know when the time was right. Glanced back to Panic. Nodded affirmatively.

   "How far are you going?"

   "My home state. North central. Remote."

   "Deal. I'll give Speedy a card. Get gas and anything else with it for a few weeks. You can check the balance at any ATM. All I'm buying is gas and pizza and donuts and coffee for two? That's way cheaper than what I normally would try. It's a bargain… no hotel bill, you say? Take a month, I don't care. As long as you promise… to try…"

   Panic nodded. Merry was beyond noticing the conversation.

   "Merry? Merry, look at me…"

   Merry looked up at Panic's face. He would now and then grimace and fight it back from the stitches. Lidocaine could only do so much, and even injecting Lidocaine around the stiffening wound's edges wasn't exactly a comfortable procedure.

   "Honey? You do understand, that me and you have to get out of the city for a couple of weeks, right? While they round up all of the assholes they're rounding up. Okay?"

   Merry nodded. It seemed to make sense.

   "Merry, when we were at the shooting camp, as you called it… did you feel safe there?"

   She nodded yes. Just like it had impressed George, it had impressed her as well. Surrounded night and day by armed men. Friendly armed men.

   "Well. How about a couple weeks, a month at the outside. I need a couple of weeks to get my arm moving. Merry? This guy here, he doesn't even know the town name we're going to."

   "Okay, but… what about my job. My apartment? My cat!"

   "Relax… we'll take Bitty Kitty with us. He can stay at the cabin with us."

   Merry nodded at that, if both her and the cat were secure? The basics were covered.

   "This was a motel apartment, right? How much could it cost for a month?"

   Panic looked at Merry but spoke for her.

   "1500…"

   "One month. Done. This is cheaper to try, than all the surveillance and bribes in the world. Deal."

   Panic nodded.

   "Deal."

   "I'll drop Speedy off with the card, and a little pamphlet…"

   "Wish we met under better circumstances. See you in a couple weeks…"

   "All right. Good luck. Sorry about your shoulder. Hey, can I ask you something? Just because everyone is gonna ask me, and I don't know what in the fuck to tell them. Figured I'd ask you…"

   "Ask me what?"

   "About your shoulder."

   "What about it? Me and the good doctor here? We both think it'll be fine in what, a couple weeks he says. Is someone picking up the tab for this?"

   "Yes. If you tell me what your thoughts were on…"

   "My thoughts on what? Whatever it is, get the dick out of your mouth, would you? I'm honestly not in the mood to play guessing games right now…"

   "Legal. Someone's going to come and ask me. What I thought."

   "What you think about what for the love of god?"

   Speedy cut in.

   "Sir? Hold on one second here. I think I know where the confusion is coming from. Panic? You wouldn't know this, but… do you intend to sue because you got shot in the shoulder?"

   "Oh. Sure. I didn't know I could sue the dead guy for shooting me? Hmm. I like it…"

   "No, Panic… suing the FBI. For an agent shooting you in the shoulder."

   "Why in the hell would I wanna do that?!?! No… I'm on a case! I'm trying to deal with all this shit that quite frankly? Has diddly dick to do with me and my case! No… I'd like to keep this as quiet as I could keep it, and go back to catching the devil! Like I was doing? Before this fucking happened."

   Speedy looked at the IA guy, who cocked his head and looked back. They both zenned. There was his answer… he didn't want to sue anyone; he wanted to keep this as quiet as he could.

   "Enjoy your month off, Mr. Panic…"

   He left, all but making a little dance out the door, so light was his step to match his mood. A better than even chance to try to get what was previously and all along… unobtainium. A month's rent and a month's pizza and donuts was a bargain.

   Speedy eyed Panic, but said nothing.

   The doctor broke the heavy mood that he seemed able to detect, that really only Merry didn't seem to be "getting", because she was still in a mild shock.

   "Does anyone have any time frame on when they'll tell the doctor, how to treat this all and what to do? I ask this, because my boss took me aside and whispered in my ear on the way in, that the hospital is to, and I repeat… extend every courtesy… in what you might or might not want to do."

   Speedy handled it.

   "Doc… what would you recommend, for a couple weeks recuperation?"

   "Well. Where to begin. First and foremost, I want him somewhere safe. Safe means, he won't get shot again. Wherever that is? Is none of my business. I'll give you 30 days worth of antibiotics, just in case. I'll give you a script for something for the pain, so he has an option. Again, I can't stress this enough. Pain pills, or booze. Not both."

   Panic asked.

   "What's my recovery consist of?"

   "Do whatever you want to, as you feel you can. The stiffness will dissipate within a few weeks, if it's going to, and I'm sure it will. You got lucky. Move your arm around as much as you can without too much discomfort. When you can do it all like normal? You're recovered. Could take a week, could take three months. Everyone's different."

   "Yeah. I'm the one or two weeks kind…"

   "Right. The FBI already picked up the tab. You two can leave. With… or without… paperwork. Your choice. I'm allowed to treat John Doe's going to safe houses."

   "Panic? Paperwork, or no paperwork…"

   "Stitch me up. Give me a doggy bag."

   "Nurse. You can hear what's going on here, right? We have three popular broad spectrum antibiotics to pick from in this situation. Pick one, and put my name on it. Get him 30 days of ranger candy. The good stuff. Put my name on it. After you get it? Let me see what I'm signing for, then I'm good. Go on. I'll finish up here, we're almost done. Good work, by the way…"

   "Doctor."

   She left.

   "She'll be back, with samples that fill a 30 day prescription. For antibiotics, and the pain pills. Sterile tweezers and swabs and some gauze? To properly pull out the stitches, that my best guess is, it'll be done at home, which is fine. Hence, the stitches kit. Because there's a lot of them, on the top layer. The green soap spray? Will cool the burning and itching of yanking them out like live hairs."

   The doctor just finished his stitching, and stood up and took off his magnifying eye wear and started peeling his bloody gloves off.

   "We can John Doe you out a side door, if you want to try to avoid the whole three ring circus going on down in the main lobby."

   The doctor applied the bandage gently over it all and touched gently at the sides for the adhesive side strips to work without touching damaged meat.

   "I'll give you a small peck sack of these things. Change every day or two as you feel like it. Don't shower for a couple days till the stitches really take a hold good. A bath is better, if you're careful to keep it completely dry."

   The doctor waited to make sure his stitches and bandage were secure, and the nurse dutifully hustled back with her doggy bag. One giant zippered plastic bag, holding many smaller zippered bags inside it. Little pamphlets with each bag sealed up wanting to be read or thrown away at the discretion of John Doe.

   "Doc? What about my lady friend here. She okay?"

   "Honestly, from all I know? Someone, came to…"

   "Yeah…"

   "Then… she's in mild shock. That's… normal. She's… doing really well, as compared to some others. Rest and relaxation for a couple weeks. Somewhere safe."

   With the nurse leading them down and out a side entrance and exit there would be no media circus at. Speedy quizzed Panic.

   "Am I going with you two?"

   "Actually, I was going to ask you to stay. I can't help you with the paperwork and the cop meetings anyways. If you get a breakthrough, call my cell. You check in on the camera crew once in a while? Again, you have my cell. I'll be fine. You know where we're going."

   "Yeah. You're waiting for a debit card. Then you can go. I assume you're taking your own car?"

   "Yes. Will you personally accompany Merry, to her apartment… to pack. Jeans and T shirts. Her Indian stuff she likes to wear outdoors."

   "No problem. Merry? I'm going to take you to get packed… okay?"

   Panic urged her on with a smile and a nod. She went.

   Panic sat by himself for the better part of about half an hour, but for the now and again talk with either the nurse or the doctor. None of whom were rushing him. IA was back in what Panic thought a surprisingly short period of time.

   "Debit card. I don't care where you're going for the next month. There's gas there and back, and pizza and donuts and coffee. Here's another card, so you always have one. Call me if you get any… results."

   Then he simply left.

   By the time Speedy and Merry got back, Panic had about his fill with the whole hospital experience. Other than getting sewed up, he wanted out and back into the world. Merry grabbed his care package. Speedy said he had Panic's own car there, he could get a ride back with his FBI friend easily.

   "Can you drive?"

   "I only had local. It's an automatic transmission. I'm right handed, this was in my left. I'm fine. She can drive… after she wakes up all the way. I'm gonna pack at my room. She can help. It will help to keep her hands moving. You get her purse? Her cat?"

   "All in the car. The cat isn't enjoying the whole cat carrier experience."

   "I didn't know she owned one… that motel room is small…"

   "No, you dolt. I bought the biggest one they had, at the store. You're welcome. I put litter in the damned thing, and you can slide dinner thru a little slot. So the little bastard doesn't get out on the long drive there."

   "Great. I got shot, and I'm the one driving a complaining cat around."

   "Yeah. But, just until she's a little more with it."

   The nurse escorted them down and out a side entrance. Took them down an alley, and walked them out to much further down the street than they would have guessed they had traveled by back alleys in secrecy had they not been there to believe it.

   They walked to Panic's car, and he drove Speedy back to his own car where he had switched to bring Panic's ride. He had Speedy and Merry both to help him pack. Speedy was slightly more responsive and helpful.