Merry - Chapter 77

   After cooking on the stove, so to speak… the lovebirds laughed and while they didn't go for a complete recapitulation, they stayed put in situ and did a period of "slow". They kept it up through the racing then slowing heart rate of afterglow, and into the gentle collapse of satisfaction. Then some more, and for no particular reason. Both spent, it was all touching and rubbing skin for Panic; Merry's contribution was little more than wiggling. Merry ended up half asleep standing bent over the stove, and Panic was more or less half asleep on top of her. 

   Eventually they extricated and slowly redressed themselves. They were standing around talking when someone knocked on the door. They both gave a sing song "come in", albeit out of time and pitch. It was Skykid. He came in to find Merry leaning up with her butt against the stove, and Panic standing almost between her legs, leaning forwards resting his hands on her thighs.

   "Hey, what you kids up to, eh?"

   They both smiled and Merry answered him.

   "Doggy style…"

   "Am I interrupting?"

   Panic chuckled.

   "No. We're done. And for the record? I don't do doggy style, I do cat style."

   "Uh, okay. What's the difference?"

   "If you just lay your hands on their hips, and look around with your mouth open? That's doggy style. Now… if you're all 'r-r-r' and biting the neck and fighting them down a little, and they're making noise? That, is cat style. I mean, watch dogs… then watch cats. The cats are definitely way more into it…"

   "We covered that more thoroughly than I needed…"

   "She started it…"

   Merry had her dopey half smile on…

   "Actually? I did start it."

   "That's great… anyways? Figured you might wanna know Speedy's coming in soon. He's got his FBI buddy with him in another car, he said they're playing highway tag for the trip in their own vehicles. He said he's twenty minutes out."

   "Cool. Thanks… come on, cat girl. We'll walk back with Sky…"

   "Sure thing. Wouldn't want you to be late meeting your boyfriend, would we?"

   Panic pointed at the door to the cabin, and smacked her on the ass out the door. Merry feigned indignant, and shoved her index finger in Panic's face…

   "Hey! If you're not going to do it like you mean it? Don't bother… "

   "You know, if you guys wanna go back to the cabin? You got twenty minutes…"

   "Come on, Merry… we're embarrassing Skykid…"

   "No, you're not embarrassing Frenchie. I've definitely had sex before. I made a couple little tadpoles in my day…"

   Merry chuckled.

   "Hmm. Skykid must do it… wait for it… froggy style."

   "Well, fair is fair. I explained the difference between doggy and kitty style… what's froggy style entail…"

   Skykid adjusted his sunglasses and smiled…

   "Usually? Two bottles of wine, shallow water, and a lot of splashing."

   "Okay, I've seen it on the nature channel. So why is the water always green."

   "That? Is what the water looks like after… if you do it correctly, anyways. Which is why a frog's ass is waterproof."

   "See Merry? Told you Skykid can always keep up. He has game… he can banter."

   "I don't know, hun. I think he might have won that time."

   "How so? We've done wine, we've done it in the water."

   Merry giggled.

   "As the ref? After a thorough and careful review of the play… I'm going to give the nod to Sky. True, it was neck in neck, but… for me? The green water put it over the goal line on that 4th down play."

   Skykid put his hands up, just as they were coming into camp. Sort of danced his way in, waving his hands.

   "Hey Panic, remember the story of the turtle and the hare?"

   "Yeah…"

   "This, was the story of the potato and the frog, ha!"

   Practically everyone was there except George. Panic asked, and someone mentioned he would be down later. Watching movies with the wife and kids. Merry and Panic shared a smile, before Panic asked out loud…

   "Honey. Do you think George's wife got him with that old we're gonna watch movies trick?"

   "Well. That's how we do it in the pros…"

   Merry got Skykid to make, of all things, some mushroom tea. He made it with two tea bags in addition to the dried shredded mushrooms in a little metal steeper. Extra milk, extra sugar. Panic wanted one after Merry was getting one. Merry stood and watched Skykid with interest. So, Skykid had her make Panic's cup next, under his supervision.

   "Gourmet tea, Skykid?"

   "Yes. Once again? The basics of gourmet boil down to novelty. Simple novelty, and added ingredients. You add or change your own things, then? If other people start liking it, talking about it, asking for it? It becomes… 'gourmet'. Take the tea here. Garden variety, particularly cheap bags of tea. So cheap? I use two or even three bags if I feel like it. What do I add? Dried shredded mushrooms. Not very much, but, mushrooms? Have a weird, odd, velvety meaty taste all their own."

   "And your little metal ball."

   "Steeper. You brew coffee? You steep a cup of tea. So? It's a steeper. Internet, or… antique shops. Now, you can get a gold one if you wanna spend the money? Don't. It's just for showing off. Does nothing a steel one doesn't do. But… if you get a real silver one? That's the best you can get. Colloidal silver? Is a health thing, and, silver is antibacterial, which is why people probably chose silver in the first place."

   "Honey? I'm busy. I'm in tea class…"

   "Advanced tea? You garnish. That thin slice of orange, lime, whatever someone likes… or you float something on the top you sprinkle in. It's as much for look, as for taste. The final aspect of true gourmet, not just a hack like me? Is presentation. Wanna be the only young darling of an old lady noon tea party? The only young lady invited?"

   "Skykid, might come as a shock to you, but… I'm really not invited to that many daughters of the revolution tea parties. I do tackle football."

   "Right. But, it's a good introduction to gourmet. Now first off, there's no reason you have to have an expensive tea. Tea? Is nothing more than dried and crushed leaves. What leaves exactly, and moisture content? Are what matters. You will notice, that tea companies never let you know the recipes… most of them are so cheap if you just bought or even grew the leaves? It's silly. So? You potentially could be growing and brewing your own custom tea. Or? Just empty the bags into a small jar. No one will know."

   "You're bad…"

   "I'm a sneaky frog. Step two? You add the ground up dried mushroom dust, and mix it up with the regular tea. Now? Your tea is custom. No one can identify the taste, no one can go buy it. Your tea? Is now the novelty. It's something different. And, like a magician? You keep it a secret. It adds mystery to your special tea."

   "Never, ever tell the rich bitches. Gotcha."

   "Now, you add the steeper? As much to bring nostalgia, and novelty… every bit as much as it helps you to hide the tea bags that bust you. When you finally find that special garnish slice no one else uses? Or some little herb dust to sprinkle on no one minds? You're a china cup and saucer and fancy napkin away from gourmet tea."

   "God, I've been slumming it all these years."

   "And another thing about a magician. It's not all just about secrets… lots of magicians can do the same trick. It's as much about the clothes, the hair do, the beard, the eye stare, and the hand flourishes… the puff of smoke and the girl in the outfit. That's the presentation and the garnish. So… with the rich bitches? You'd make up a story. Your great grandfather fought in the Pubic Wars or something… which was where he discovered the tea recipe. Family secret. It was in demand back in the old days. Then… in the depression? Your grandma or great grandma or whoever, fed the family by having the special tea for the rich people. The secret tea recipe? Actually saved your family line from going extinct."

   Merry smiled at Panic, and pointed at Skykid…

   "Honey, are you hearing this shit?"

   "Yes dear. Skykid, the 'Pubic Wars'… I mean come on now…"

   "Merry? Watch this. Go on Panic… do the trivia. I can see you fidgeting over there. Someone misused a word, it's making you feel itchy…"

   "I'm pretty sure you meant the Punic Wars."

   "Now watch this Merry… actually Panic, I'm aware of the Punic Wars. The Pubic Wars? Totally different thing. The one great empire, fought the other great empire. They were arguing over whether men should be on top, or women should be on top. It went on for generations… hence? The Pubic Wars. Honestly, they don't teach you kids nothing in history class these days."

   "Uh huh. Well then, Professor Sky… how did the Pubic Wars end? Who won? Are women supposed to be on top, or are men supposed to be on top. Inquiring minds wanna know."

   "Actually, they were both taken over by the French. On account of they beat the shit out of each other for generations, so, they were easy pickings in the end. The French took them both over, and made everyone fuck with their faces, after eating good food and drinking good wine. Now, this was a very long time ago. Very important in the development of civilization though. It led to women enjoying sex more. Which led to more babies. It saved the human race's birth rate, when it was kinda touch and go there for a minute."

   "Oh. When was this…"

   "After the dinosaurs, but, before the French revolution."

   "Oh. Then."

   "Little known fact. We lick the stamp? In celebration of this great victory. Most people don't know that, it's been lost to time. We used to nail the stamp to the letter in the old days, until that became the new custom."

   "Okay… and how did they fight the… Pubic Wars and win? Hmm?"

   "Everyone knows that, the French? We fight with our feet. We kicked both of them in the nuts. Yet another reason it's knows as… the Pubic Wars. Telling you, stick with me? I'll learn ya something about history."

   "Honey? Skykid wins this one, too. He's 2 and 0."

   "I can see the textbook now. Introduction to UN Natural History, by Professor Skykid."

   "Available only at Froggy Press, Incorporated."

   They were all three laughing, when they looked up to see Rob standing there. He was smiling, and shaking his head in either amazement or amusement. Perhaps both.

   "What's in the tea?"

   "Mushrooms…"

   "Yeah, I heard that. Must be magic mushrooms, I heard the whole conversation. Good lord. What's gotten into you, Skykid?"

   "So I'm in a good mood. You want a happy cook, don't you?"

   Panic chuckled…

   "Rob. He's probably happy to get to cook for new people coming in. Think about it, it's Sky."

   "So? New guys come in every couple days…"

   "Yeah. Guys already met him, or know about him and heard about his cooking. These are new guys. They think they're gonna get cheap beer, cheap bourbon, and burgers and hot dogs. Then? They actually get Skykid's good wine, and unless I miss my guess, he'll pull out all the stops for meals, see how much he can impress the new guys that aren't expecting it."

   Skykid pointed at Panic, and nodded his head vigorously.

   Rob scratched his chin.

   "Sounds like I get egg birthday cake for breakfast? Works for me."

   "Yes, Rob… you'll get quiche. The big cast iron pot and lid? I got it sort of working. But that's not the big surprise for you, big boy…"

   "What?"

   "What can't you get above the Mason Dixon line, you're always bitching about up here."

   "Don't even tease me about my grits. We both already know? It'll be Yankee instant shit grits. Don't even start."

   Skykid smiled.

   "Merry?"

   "Guy at the store? Says they're real grits. I bought them for you. Me and Panic found them."

   "No, you didn't. I been to the same store. They have instant grits."

   "On the shelf. But, Panic was talking to me about you and grits? And, a kid that worked there, started talking to us. His grandfather, supposedly, has real grits. Apparently Grandpa has a corn farm or something. Anyways. We went back the next day, and, he gave us a big bag of… whatever the fuck those things are anyways. Honestly, it looks like something you're supposed to mix with potting soil to get flowers growing, but. There you are."

   "No no, that's what real grits look like. Holy shit. Glad the kid working there likes the stuff, or I'd never have gotten any. Huh."

   "Actually? He hates them. That's why we got them and he was happy to give them away. See, Grandpa gives them to him and his parents. Then Grandpa asks if they ate the grits, how can you have a healthy kid without feeding him grits. Now? Kid can claim that the grits got eaten, and not be lying."

   "Great story. And I get real grits. Honestly? I don't care if the kid's a Vietnamese cross-dressing tri-sexual prostitute, as long as I get my grits."

   "We didn't inquire about that. We limited our transaction to the grits."

   "How much does it cost?"

   "Hmm. Panic there, had to break state and federal laws to get you your grits. Kid wanted cigarette tobacco, a big bag of it. And a bunch of rolling papers."

   "Oh, you got rooked. Grits ain't expensive…"

   "Okay, but… we got a big bag of grits…"

   "How big?"

   "Like, carry on your shoulder big."

   Rob all but danced around. Walked up to guys talking? Then leaned in and announced with no preparation to the conversation…

   "I got grits!"

   Then, went to the next guy and did the same thing.

   Skykid was amused.

   "You guys sure made his day. Merry? Rob will probably erect a statue in your honor."

   "A statue made out of grits, though."

   "Still a statue. You take what you can get."

   Because everyone was on a working vacation, with the emphasis being full time vacation, part time work… everyone being in a good mood was the standard thing. But enough work had been done that the range was more than operational and they had more ranges and amenities than ever before, as compared with other ranges they had visited. The property owner coming home and giving a good to great report was another win. Speedy had always been held in fairly high regard, mainly because of his long range shooting instruction guides… but now as one of the main architects of the coming RLB long-range, a permanent home for all future RLB fests? Speedy finally coming back in for an extended stay was like having a parade for a victorious general arriving home.

   When Speedy rolled in, Rob got the word on the radio from the guy on watch and announced it. Everyone was excited and upbeat. When he arrived at camp, he indeed had Senior with him. His contact and long time friend from the FBI. Panic was ambivalent about the guy. He wasn't in love with him personally, or with his leadership of their case, nor even of his style of leadership. That said though, he didn't dislike the guy either.

   Without him? The case never went past the Speedy and Panic hobby investigation phase. So, even if it had been picked up and mishandled, well, at least it got picked up at all and had a chance at life. Speedy wouldn't suffer a long time friendship with him if he didn't have quality. Speedy had worked with him in the past, and didn't think the man was incompetent. Even personally? Panic had no real fault with him. If he got slightly out of line, he took polite hints which was all Panic required of anyone to get along. Panic even admitted to himself, that outside of work? Seemed like a great guy. If he liked to have a few drinks after work or on weekends, and run around with the boys a little… Panic counted as close friends men that had killed enough men to fill small graveyards.

   Couldn't even really blame the guy for trying to up his scorecard and stats a little, trying to scoot into an assistant director's position, if the timing and everything else was there for that to allow attempting it. Panic naturally wished it wasn't being done on his case, but… Panic was self aware enough to realize that was just NIMBYism. Not In My Back Yard… but? In someone elses is cool.

   Panic had caught the elevated mood of everyone else, and on top of it all because this was an extended opportunity to most likely, have the best chance to break through the wall and fall into the end game segment of this great quest him and Speedy had undertaken. If you just keep walking into the doors enough times, sooner or later someone will happen to be coming in or out, and… you might get through. Panic understood the frustration enough himself, and realized poor Speedy was down there in the meetings and red tape. In the trenches.

   When Speedy and Senior walked into camp? Everyone waved, called out, walked over and surrounded Speedy. Everyone took turns shaking his hand, and those waiting or already shaken seemed content to touch and pat him. Like a coach on the field. Senior, by contrast, just got the polite nice to meet you handshakes and occasional shoulder pat. Senior was used to getting the more royal sort of treatment; here on Speedy's home turf the situation was reversed.

   Instead of joining the friendly mob, Panic just used the free time to slowly acquire two more folding camp chairs to go with his little group's chairs already assembled. With him and Merry in the middle between Rob and Skykid, Speedy and Senior could have the two chairs facing the four of them. When they were ready. Panic waved to Speedy, and he smiled back. Panic gave a halfhearted salute and flourished his hand off the salute at the chairs. Speedy nodded. Someone clapped a beer into Speedy's hand, then Senior's as well. As the mild furor died down from its swell, they made their way over and sat in the chairs.

   Panic leaned and shook hands with both of them, as Rob and Skykid rejoined them. Merry had remained sitting with Panic. She liked Speedy and he would be over, plus Panic had kept his seat. Senior wasn't her favorite person in the world since that day at the steakhouse. Merry wasn't the hugest fan of FBI agents too accustomed to getting anything they wanted, to say the least.

   Speedy sipped his beer, while Senior got introduced to everyone.

   "Senior? You already know Panic and Merry. They? Are still an item. This? Is Mark, everyone calls him Sky or Skykid. And that tiny little shit over there? That's Rob. Christ, it's good to get a break. How's the range been going? I see you guys managed to not burn it down yet…"

   Rob was a de facto construction leader, and shrugged.

   "We got multiple handgun ranges, couple rifle ranges. Pavilions and cement benches and pads where they're needed. All benches are cement, have full footers and are completely level and smooth. Bunkhouse, couple outbuildings. Even got a basic skeet range in. We have reloading benches for on site workups. Decent library of reloading manuals and pamphlets. Wind flags every 50 yards. Skykid? Give him your good news…"

   "Speedy? We have electric… well? Basically everywhere. We can cook under the pavilion at the rifle ranges or the handgun ranges. All we're waiting on, is some bigger lights for the night time shotgun shooting. Daytime only right now."

   "No, I saw some of this driving and walking in. It's looking like the real deal. How's everything going with the property, the family. Rob?"

   "Friendly armed escort for the wife and kids if they let us know they're leaving. We have a watch on the main road to the trail? 24 7 365. You build up some watch time standing around calling in? You earn a pig hunt. Not a beer can or an empty cigarette pack left on the entire property, I don't think. Freezers and coolers are all fixed, and filling up, I might add. You put in a few hours sitting at the bait shop? You get a day and a night off to go fishing. Parking lots are mud pits? Grass will grow back and that'll take care of itself. Or we'll take up a collection and go gravel, if we can't liberate some from somewhere. We fixed his high lift and maintenance-d it some. Panic? Report on George?"

   "Got him the books to the booze and bait shop, and his cash box. Showed him everything. He said he's happy as a clam."

   "Great. I can just relax. Guys? Can't thank you all enough. Wish I could be here more for this. Panic… you? Look like a new man. They said your shoulder's okay?"

   "Yeah."

   "Good. Merry? Not trying to ignore you. How you holding up. You doing any better than the last time I saw you?"

   "Oh yeah. I swear, half of it? Just being out of the damn city."

   "Panic? We'll talk about work later. JG should be here late this afternoon, evening, something like that. He grabbed a minivan, and has a good sample of the surveillance setup. He's dying to show it to you, you guys will probably play with it and have fun. Now… ask Senior here? We got a new boss on our case. Don't know the guy. He hasn't made any changes yet, he just came on, but… we don't know what to expect. Senior?"

   "I met him before, but, I never worked with him much on anything big. I generally end up with interstate homicide, he kinda specializes in long range cases. He's got a really good reputation, far as I know. From all I hear? Supposed to be a really easy going guy. He's just been looking at everything we have now. Hasn't decided what to do yet. We all decided to take a break, here we are. This could be good news, this could be bad news? This could be no news. I don't know yet. Speedy… that a fair way to put it?"

   "That? Is a fair way to put it, buddy. Have a beer. Cross your legs, cross your fingers. Outta our hands right now."

   "Panic?"

   "Speedy…"

   "Is there another Wrightsville in Pennsylvania?"

   "Not that I know of. Why?"

   "Oh, no reason. We almost had riots down in DC, if you watched the news a ways back. Over a dozen cops got slaughtered, was how the news people described it… at some bar. Apparently? It was an assassination attempt, to kill a witness. A witness in the upcoming big trial, of all the dirty cops in DC. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

   "Nothing official. The bar? Was right out the end of the road there, not too many miles away. They won't release the name of the victim."

   "Uh huh. Panic? I already know."

   "How?"

   "Your IA buddies? You forget, I was there for Merry's big night."

   Senior Agent looked like someone kicked him in the shin.

   "That's where you got shot in the shoulder, Panic? I assumed you had a little oopsie here at the range. How the fuck did you get mixed up in the massacre?"

   Panic and Speedy were both chuckling.

   "Senior… you know the big scandal breaking. The dirty cops, two dirty FBI agents mixed up with them?"

   "Yeah…"

   "Well. You're looking at the DC shooter, Senior."

   Panic shot Speedy a look…

   "Relax, Panic… it's not a secret any more. It ain't public yet? But… it's an open secret at the FBI. IA is coming out about it. Investigation is concluding. IA started filing paperwork already at the DAs office. Senior? You just didn't recognize the name of the shooter. You forgot his real name, huh? He's just Panic, to you."

   "Christ almighty…"

   Speedy sipped his beer.

   "Also, another heads up from IA… who are both on their way up here too…"

   "Yeah?"

   "The witness in that case? The name is on paper at the DAs office. It'll be released to the public a little later, when IA makes it's preliminary media statements about that whole deal. But, if you're in law enforcement in DC…"

   "You mean…"

   "Yeah. Your girlfriend is coming out of the closet. Speaking of which, they finally rounded up all the stragglers on the 'dirty DC crew', which is what the media has nicknamed them. All of them are either dead, or in custody. More good news. IA tells me, they had one straggler unaccounted for? He either had an accident, or, basically committed suicide. His gun blew up, on a police range in rural Maryland. All of which? Is why IA is finally moving forward and concluding the investigation. Merry? Get ready to go public. IAs coming, like I said… they'll tell you what to do, and what not to do."

   Senior couldn't believe what he was hearing.

   "Wait a minute… Merry… is the DC witness?"

   "Senior. Say hello to the star witness. And? May I ever so gently suggest, you be polite? Her boyfriend has already drilled a dirty FBI agent sent to assassinate them in their sleep in DC. She survived a second assassination attempt by the Dirty DC crew, AKA the 'Dirty Dozen'. She single handed killed 13 of them herself and apprehended 2 of the last 3; the locals picked up the last one. I'd be polite to her, if I were you. Just my thoughts on it…"

   "Holy shit."

   "Panic? Both your names are on paper in the DAs office. Witnesses for the prosecution. So… until our case is over, if it's ever over or if it's even moving forward after this get together here, the next ten days or so… will you please stay off of camera? Just till the case breaks."

   "I don't wanna be on TV…"

   "Merry?"

   "Me either."

   "Well? You might not have a choice, eventually. You'll get mugged going in and out of the courthouse. This is all local news in DC; it's going national as soon as the names get made public. There's a fucking army of media chomping at the bit."

   "Like what?"

   "Aside from the whole police attempted murder scandals? Every women's group in DC is trying to be the first to interview the 'brave strong female' that shot up half the DC city force. Feminists are going ape-shit. Second amendment groups? Are starting to have a field day with this. No guns allowed in DC, and the police are assassinating witnesses. Lone waitress guns down over a dozen cops with a handgun? In self defense? Christ, the story writes itself. Every anti-police and police reformist group in DC is beating off right now. Anti-gunners? Are already writing articles about how the guns created all the violence. I don't know, somehow the police's handguns made the dirty cops try to kill witnesses. I can't see the logic, but hey it never stopped them before. You starting to get the picture?"

   "It's a fucking three ring circus already, and it hasn't even got rolling yet."

   "Yeah. It'll be big national news. Courthouse TV and everything. Merry? You said you wanted to be in women's magazines, right?"

   "Not like this. I wanted an article like 9 ways to make your man scream your name, not feminist bullshit. I'm not even a feminist, I don't believe in it."

   "Well, maybe when it's all over, you can write the article you really want. I hope you get it, you've been through the wringer. Panic? If our case ever ends, maybe you can plug the RLB website in a gun magazine. If it ever happens? I bet the boys would love that."

   "First things first. All I care about is the case. The rest comes later, if it comes at all."

   "Well? We're relaxing for the next week, ten days. Maybe even find out what direction we take now. We don't know until we know. Until then? I'm gonna put my feet up and have a beer. I suggest you do the same. Oh yeah, almost forgot… Merry?"

   "What now?"

   "The bikers. They? Are the good guys in all this. They? Were the only ones trying to protect the poor, defenseless waitress from the dangerous, dirty cops, and no one would listen. They're having a field day on the internet. Your steakhouse fight with the FBI wives? All over the internet too, they just haven't put 2 and 2 together yet it has anything to do with the assassination attempts. Technically? You're already an internet star."

   "Anything else?"

   "Not for you… but Senior?"

   "Yeah…"

   "Grab us all a beer, would you?"

   "I'm the Senior Agent!"

   "Yeah… at the Hoover building, you're the senior agent. Here? You're the new guy. New guy gets beer. Ah… sucks to be the new guy…"

   Senior grumbled with good nature, and Speedy yelled after him, after smirking and winking at Panic…

   "That's six cold ones, Seen-your! We all want one!"

   By the time Senior got back with the six beers, it became obvious that a gaggle of the guys had assembled, and were inching closer to the group. When Senior's face found Speedy's face, it was asking "what's this" of his buddy. Speedy didn't know what the face was for because he was a bit slouched down, trying to relax but not appear rude and fall asleep. Even though that was his fondest wish, to take a nap at the moment.

   He finally furrowed his brow at everyone else in his little group now mirroring something on their faces as well. He looked around to see what was going on, and saw everyone closing in on him steadily.

   "What's going on? You guys all met Senior already."

   Skykid spoke up.

   "Panic? You have something to tell Speedy, don't you?"

   Panic started counting off on his fingers…

   "Thought I got everything…"

   "The tip sheet? In the clubhouse? The pool has a couple hundred bucks in it now. Do it already."

   "Oh. Speedy?"

   "Yeah. What now… has there been another shooting I don't know about?"

   "No. Just… see, there's a bar just down the road a piece. Me and Rob… we kinda helped them get a cheap clay bird throwing thing going. They shoot shotguns out the back of the bar a couple days a week."

   "Marvelous."

   "It's… a biker bar."

   "Okay."

   "We had a few of them here, and, you know… showed them how to shoot clay birds, the basics."

   "What's this got to do with me?"

   "Are you mad?"

   "Why would I be mad?"

   "It's an outlaw biker bar. You know, one percent guys."

   "You had them here… with shotguns in their hands? Teaching them how to lead clay birds on the fly?"

   "Yeah."

   "Criminals… with firearms…"

   "Well, first off? They were friends of Merry's. Second… she picked ones that didn't have felonies on their records. Legally owned shotguns."

   Speedy pinched his nose and closed his eyes.

   "Panic? Did this seem like a bright idea to you at the time?"

   "More or less."

   "How in the hell do you know the shotguns weren't stolen?"

   "Well… members that were cops that were here at the time? Were bitching. One took cell phone pics of the shotgun numbers and ran them. They were clean."

   "Oh. Well… did anyone get shot? Any accidents?"

   "No."

   "Were any of them involved in the massacre at the bar? I mean, I'm assuming this is the same outlaw biker bar I saw on the news, right?"

   "Oh… sure."

   "Are they hanging out here? Joining the website?"

   "No. A couple came and shot a few times, then that was it. They're not really big fans of cops. We had a couple come in without colors one night. No problems."

   "Do I think it was the brightest idea you ever once had? No. Not even in the top 20, I don't think. Do I wanna go drink beer and go shooting with the bikers? Uh… no. No offense, Merry."

   "None taken."

   "Well, if it was a one time fad… and all's well that ends well… whatever. Let's just not have it a regular feature of the range, shall we?"

   "Okay. So… are you mad?"

   "Not mad…"

   "Do… you wanna strangle me?"

   "Uh… no…"

   "You sure?"

   "Pretty sure."

   "Skykid? Call it…"

   Skykid stood up, and led everyone to the clubhouse. Some were complaining, some were skipping and dancing over. Every tip board has winners and losers once it goes off. Speedy nestled back down into his chair, and sipped his beer again.

   "What was just going on?"

   Rob piped up…

   "Everyone was betting, on whether or not you were gonna put your hands on Panic over it. Then? A side bet on your attitude about the whole thing."

   "That's nice… "

   When the commotion didn't die down quickly enough, and the laughter and commotion seemed to if anything, simply increase a little… Speedy sat up again and looked back over his chair and shoulder at the goings on. Rob and Skykid were making a show of dancing around. Doing some kind of comical jig in a circle, each with one hand wiggling in the air, opposing elbows interlocked. Speedy watched it long enough to see that every so often, they reversed direction of rotation, switched hands and elbows.

   Speedy mumbled something inaudible, while shaking his head.

   Senior wondered aloud…

   "Kinda hard to tell who won and who lost, huh? I'm guessing the two dancing were big winners… how did this work?"

   "I wasn't here, Senior. I was down in DC with you, remember. Panic?"

   "It started out with a kind of 'would Speedy strangle me or not' argument around the fire one night. It made it to a pool bet. Side bet on whether or not you'd be angry, independent of putting your hands on me. A dollar a tip, on either pool. Enter as many times as you like. Skykid was the treasurer and judge. Basically? The winners side, splits all the tips evenly. A percentage of the entire pool buys a bunch of adult beverages, before the split."

   Senior wondered how much they won, the dancing was continuing… Rob was throwing in obscene gestures in the course of the dance. An occasional Nazi salute as well… Skykid took a break and did what appeared to be some sort of "frog hop" was the best way to describe it. It involved butt wiggling between hops.

   Speedy wondered how much the pool got up to… Panic answered as best he could.

   "This's been going on a little while now. Guys kept adding tips. Guys coming in? Wanted in on it, after they heard about it and saw the tip sheet up in the bunkhouse. It quickly rose to a couple hundred dollars, and grew from there. I quit keeping track, I honestly have no idea now."

   Speedy wondered about guys that had already left before the tip went off.

   "Oh, that I know about. Guys that remembered and left? Complained on the online board, that they forgot about the pool. It was decided, that you need not be present to win, but… if not present? You forego enjoying the group adult beverages the tip board going off pays for. And… this… cleared the way for online betting, on the website. Which, accounted for a huge increase in the size of the pool. Your online pool bets had to be here and in the cash box, before the pool went off. Which it just did. The pool buys stamps to send the online winners their portion. Any late entries? Get automatically applied to… adult beverages."

   Speedy said he didn't know whether to be embarrassed or entertained. Senior said…

   "You state boys don't have office pools? We do it in some of the offices at the Hoover building. Guys from all over the building have been known to get wind of a big funny pool, and wander in to get in on it."

   "Yeah, but… they were betting on if we got into a fistfight or not…"

   "Remember, I do interstate homicide. We've had bets on which state the next body is found in. What town the next body is found in. Which body part got located next, in a dismemberment case. We've done height of the perp, weight of the perp. What job the perp would have, if any. We've ran them up to a couple thousand dollars before. Depends how many people hear about it, how long it goes on, how funny or popular it gets."

   "Great, Panic… you're running an online gambling ring. Across state lines. Good job."

   Senior laughed…

   "Aw. No one's ever taken a stab at office pools before. If it's not a regular thing on an established schedule, and not available to the general public at large, members only? It flies under radar."

   "If it helps any? The online tip sheet list, is in the members only private part of the website…"

   Speedy chuckled. Sipped his beer.

   "I honestly don't care. I honestly don't think anyone else cares. But, I obviously don't control that. As ever, my best advice is to be careful. As an investigator? I haven't worked vice in I can't tell you how many years. Senior? You worked vice before, how long you been out of it?"

   Senior sipped his beer…

   "Damn you, Speedy. You know better than that. That's like asking a woman how old she is, asking homicide how many years they been out of vice."

   Speedy and Senior both laughed, and lifted their beers to each other, a little toast without having to get up to tap beers together physically. Panic started snickering, then chuckling.

   Speedy and Senior were looking back and forth, to silently ask "what"…

   "Nothing. Just… Speedy? You taught me when you investigate, there's no such things as a coincidence. I'm seeing two guys do and did homicide, both worked vice first."

   Both smiled. Senior asked Speedy if he wanted to take it, and Speedy nodded.

   "I don't know what the FBI calls it, we call it a tour. You never start out homicide. My state police, and I think most state police? Investigators start out in robbery. If you do good, vice is usually next. Homicide is a last stop. You start looking at management, or, retirement."

   "You move up by solving cases?"

   "Yes and no. You solve robberies? Everyone wants you to keep solving robberies. You start finding other crimes, working on your own time, showing initiative and dedication… you usually end up vice. You don't work vice without running across homicides. Homicide's always coming to vice… vice is always going to homicide, too many cases overlap. Homicide is where you end up eventually, if you're any good."

   "Robbery… vice… homicide… that's only three of the four food groups. Where's rape?"

   "Rape's always part of homicide. As insiders? Rape is half robbery, half homicide. The techniques you use to solve those two? Pretty much solve rapes."

   Senior piped up.

   "Hey. Speedy. Do the robbery test on him… see if he's any good."

   "Okay Panic… here's the thing. You're working robbery. Female homeowner. Single mom, real pretty. You get there. Nice fucking place. Her story… she's polite and well spoken. Makes you coffee. Explains she never does this, but, had a few drinks with the other girls where she works. She's a part time barmaid. Ended up bringing a nice guy home with her, thought he was a nice guy. He pushed her around late at night? Stole her paycheck and fled in the wee hours. Couple, several hundred bucks. She's got a first name, really good description of him and his car. You? Take her information and give her your card, call you if she has any more information."

   "Couple days later? She's pretty sure she sees the car in a parking lot of some workplace. Calls you. Thinks it's him. You rush to the scene. She IDs the guy. You bring them both in. Guy's story? Denies it at first, then quickly turns it into an I was drunk, I didn't know what I was doing deal. He offers to pop the cash, whatever amount she says… and hey, he's got a wife and kids an an ex wife and ex kids, have a heart, you know? Girl… she's pissed, but… buys his sob story, and in the end? Doesn't really wanna press charges. In the end though? She ends up batting her cute little eyes at you, my big strong man caught the bad man, how can I ever repay you? Stop by the bar and have a few drinks on me, meet the girls. Did I mention she's a cute single mom, really nice house, making eyes at you."

   Panic sat there, sipping his beer.

   "The robbery solved itself. I'm really just going through the motions."

   "Yep, easy. You? Just solved the crime. You did a good job, right? My hero…"

   Panic kept sipping his beer.

   "I'm not even a cop, and I see this sort of thing in the projects, in shit apartments, in shitty houses in the shitty part of shitty towns. Like the town I live in at home, for instance. You said it's a nice house?"

   "Yeah. Nice house."

   "Nice part of town? Nice furniture and appliances."

   "Yeah. As nice or nicer than the house you and your wife live in, you're a state cop who just made investigator, working robbery."

   "See, right there. Without a really rich daddy, without a really rich baby daddy… single mommies tending bar couple nights a week, can't afford that."

   "Well, when you first saw the place, and said how nice it is, she did mention… her daddy is rich. He helps her out."

   "Yeah. See… right off the bat? Single moms are usually train wrecks, no matter how good the setup looks from the outside. When she says I usually almost never do this, but… that's usually code word, for I do it all the time. Just nothing bad usually happens. Plus? This is how she got to be a single mommy in the first damn place. She's a little tramp. Plus? I wanna ask around, quietly. See who the daddy really is. I wanna see if he's rich or not."

   "So… what do you do. Cute girl. Making eyes at you. All twitter-pated the big strong man solved her crime, you know."

   "Oh. You said I have a wife and house of my own. This is some single mom, and single moms are pieces of shit in my book, for the most part. No way, this is a train wreck waiting to happen. But? I'm definitely going and hanging out. Just not going home with her. I go in a couple times, act nice, I wanna see this place running. Is it a nice place?"

   "Like her house. Upscale."

   "Yeah… I wanna hang out and pretend I'm eyeing up the girls. I wanna watch the pattern of bathroom trips. I'm thinking the girls are selling coke to the customers. Then you date the guy that buys a lot of coke and likes the girl selling it… probably some of the girls are selling their ass after hours, too. I see anything I don't like? I guess like you said, I go to vice with it."

   "Panic? What I just described? Goes on all the time. You? Would quickly be paired up with an older, more experienced investigator instead of your given young partner. You smelled a rat right off. Two or three of these? Yeah… after you sent vice two or three of these, they want you shown the ropes. Your newer, older partner? He shows you how to toss the scene, but politely."

   "Yeah. I wanted to look around, but, I can't start tossing the girl's bedroom, she'll freak."

   "Right. The partner sits her down, and has her talk and talk and talk, asks her a million slow questions… while your job? Is to look for fingerprints. Which is code word for you're looking around for the drug paraphernalia. Under the mattress, in the underwear drawer. Try to find some bills and credit card numbers. You're older partner is grooming you."

   "How long?"

   "A year. Most guys? Run around bragging, how many cases they're solving. Bragging with pictures of all the cute girls they're dating. You turn a few over to vice instead of being a tool? Another year with a mentor, and you move up. Usually to vice, because you've sent them several cases like this you bird dogged for them, they want fresh faces."

   "How's that go?"

   "Oh. That's a lot more straightforward. You're now getting mentored again. As long as you can't be bought? Don't start running around with young girls, doing coke? Working in your spare time instead of being an ass clown like that? You don't work vice, not come across a few homicides. Everyone knows vice is prostitution and drugs and gambling… but, it's con men too. You? Are learning all the tricks of the trade. You're already a smart go getter to get to vice… you just show you're honest, you make homicide."

   "How's that go?"

   "Most guys burn out, or go to shit. It's Saturday… wonder where the dead hooker's gonna show up, you know? It gets to you. If it gets to you? They send you back to robbery. To now mentor young guys, like you got groomed. Back to vice, cause you know how to spot a cop going down the wrong path early, and you can have a nice talk to him, get him back on the right path. Or? You retire, or, go into management."

   "Doesn't sound very glamorous."

   Speedy and Senior both laughed, Senior spoke up.

   "It ain't. It ain't like TV. All you see, every day, day in day out… robberies. Thefts. Assaults. People crying, people arguing. Half the people are lying their ass off to you, the whole time. Home invasions. Murders. Dead hookers cooking in the trunk for a week. Drug dealers, drug addicts. Slick con men. Everyone's running a scam of some kind, everyone's got a good sob story. Some of the murder victims? Hell, you know they had it coming."

   Speedy took over.

   "It really wears you down, wears you out. By the time you make it to doing good in vice? If you ain't getting death threats, you ain't doing your job right. No, TV got it all wrong. Senior… what does the FBI think about all the FBI on TV and the movies?"

   Senior belly laughed…

   "Ha. Right. I go to work every day, wondering where all the hot chicks are. Merry? No offense to you…"

   "None taken."

   "Christ, you watch TV, you think half the FBI is all these short, skinny, hot chicks with big boobs. All Kung-Fu experts and crack shots. There's a few, don't get me wrong, but… it's mostly all bullshit. Then, there's the other female FBI stereotype. Hair pulled back. Conservative dresser. Smart businesswoman looking. We have some, sure, but… most end up putting in for office work, getting out of the field. Merry? Again no offense, but… you simply don't send some woman in a business suit, alone, interviewing dangerous people, looking for the perp. They end up getting roughed up, and… they put in for office work. Very few come out of the hospital emergency room, and wanna go back to work and don't need therapy. To tell the truth? We got a lot of guys that can't handle the rough stuff."

   Speedy came back online…

   "That's the other myth of being an investigator. No police work is for complete cowards, but… you can't realistically expect everybody to be able to take down a big, scary, felon chimping out on adrenaline. Holding the line in a firefight when it comes out of nowhere, and keeping your shit together and calling for backup and waiting on it to arrive. That's what the partner system is for. Senior? All you football players at the FBI, are you all tough guys like on TV?"

   "The one stereotype the TV gets right? Is the odd couple partners paired up together. The smartest guys in the world? Are not always the best fighters or handy in a gunfight, you know. If you're good? We'll pair you up with someone better at that. Biggest guys? Are not always the best at the rough stuff. Lotta regular size guys that are the boxers and the shooters and have big balls. One guy's good at conspiracy theories? He needs a down to earth, regular everyday partner. Speedy?"

   "Oh yeah. And Merry? I will say this, ask Senior if he agrees, I bet he does. We don't hate women trying to do the job… but, that little girl trying to be wonder woman shit? Get over yourself. Now, back at my home base, when I still was a homicide investigator, those years. I had a girl worked there, she was good. She wasn't trying to be wonder woman, she didn't pull any bullshit trying to act tough. Now, doing the regular stuff? Day to day? Sure, she was competent. But, she had a special skill."

   Merry wondered…

   "Which was…?"

   "Talking to female victims, and female perps. If I had a nickel for every time she talked with some female victim, and took me outside later, and rolled her eyes? None of the guys were picking up what she just picked up on? I'd be rich. We're all buying it, all us guys. She talks to her… she just agrees with everything she says… holds her crying… says she'll help her any way she can… comes out? Laughing…"

   "Speedy, don't you dare let that bitch out of your sight. She's acting, I'm telling you."

   "And most of the time? She'd be right. She popped several kill the husband scenarios, and we were all buying her bullshit. And us guys? We thought we'd seen and heard it all. If the bitch wasn't the perp, she was in on it. If she wasn't in on it? She was hiding something."

   Merry chuckled.

   "Girly girls? Learn young, that the waterworks and the boo hoo and stomping and moping around routine? Wraps daddy around her little finger, just like it works for mommy. They usually do it the rest of their life, it works too good. They get really good at it. Girls like me, that don't pull that shit? Well… it makes all women look bad. We hate it."

   "Yeah. Remember the 'robbery' scenario I lined out to start this? I was back to robbery, grooming, after working homicide too long. She would look around, act like nothing… back in the car? She'd be telling me how much money was in the clothes and shoes…"

   "Speedy? Those are all 200 dollar sweaters, 120 dollar designer pants, bitch is wearing 40 dollar underwear for Christ's sake. Her fucking perfume? Half a weeks pay for me. Something's up. I honestly didn't think anything like that."

   Senior laughed…

   "What, no designer sweaters and high heels, marching around the scenes being bossy and bitchy? That's how it's done on TV…"

   Speedy chuckled.

   "Right. No, low key. Listens more than she talks. Takes it all in, acts like nothing's up. Spills the beans out in the car."

   Senior wanted to know where she ended up.

   "Oh. I groomed her personally. Sent her to vice school for a couple years. Made sure the brass knew what she was good at. She landed in homicide, probably still there, last I heard. Like I said… competent on a scene? But… man, can she interview. Men and women, but… if you got a female perp? A female victim? You gotta let her take a crack at them. She can sniff a fake rape or a cover story out like nobody's business."

   "What's her partner like?"

   "Oh. That… yeah, she needs just the right partner. She got hooked up with a guy in vice. Big tall guy, used to be a boxer but wasn't good enough to go pro. He's quiet, he's polite. He ain't dumb, mind you… he's just not a genius. He's married, she's married, the four of them hang out on the weekends with the kids and spouses. He has no issues with her being a girl, and she doesn't pull any girly shit on him. They're like a married couple at work, but, nothing's going on. They work good together. She has her guard dog, and he got promoted to homicide to keep her happy."

   "They both know they need the other, and both their families, it's like they're related. And the funny thing is? It ain't all one sided. We had lunch one time, you know, catch up and all. She said, her partner? Can sniff out a guy that's… sneaky dangerous… and you wouldn't normally pick up on it. I told her that's cause he was a boxer, a fighter. He can read that shit. Homicide says? They get a dead, rich spouse… they sic these two on it. They more or less handle the personal murders, the rapes where the vic knows the perp. Other investigators are better at the complete mayhem scenes."

   Merry wanted to know what their nicknames were.

   "Oh. In vice? She picked up the nickname, The Gypsy. You know, like she has a crystal ball. They call him Rot. Short for the Rottweiler. Big, quiet, friendly guard dog. Now, don't get me wrong. He came up to robbery normal. He's not a dumb guy. He solved enough robberies. Thing is, most big guys? Might not be quiet and polite. He is. He's too good playing the guard dog, and it's not like he's useless on his own anyways… we get people that are smart and just need a guard dog with them, for obvious reasons. It's practical. They hooked them two up in vice."

   "In vice… they worked good together. It's how they met up. You send him in somewhere? Big, quiet guy. Kinda looks like what you would think a state cop should look like. We used to have height and weight requirements. Now, you can't send a little girl into a place that might be dangerous by herself. But, you stick these two together? All of a sudden, they look like any couple out for the night, or like a married couple. They get along good, they talk and banter, no one gives the two of them? A second glance. Vice wants to bust johns all weekend? He's the pimp, she's the madam… we send several young girls out with them. It's perfect."

   "Now Merry, you wondered what her nickname was? Originally just The Gypsy. That was robbery's nickname she picked up. Vice ended up nicknaming her… The Madam. People were using either nickname after that, it kinda ended up Madam Gypsy. Got shortened to Madge."

   Senior wanted to know what kind of operations they ran, any good ones…

   Speedy sipped his beer.

   "Yeah, they're out of vice a long enough time. Not going back. Now, you send a big guy to buy drugs, make a big buy? Suspicious. Can't send a little girl alone, either. But, as a husband wife team? Perfect, no one thinks anything."

   Speedy snickered…

   "What?"

   "Eh. They were good at the fake prostitution thing. See, you got a long standing prostitution ring going somewhere? You know how it is. Everyone knows, no one cares. Local cops are getting free blowjobs, Mayor's on the payroll… you know the drill."

   "Sure. Every other small town's got one of those."

   "Right. You go in the normal way? The local cops, they don't know nothing. The girls? Ain't saying shit if they're making money and get protection. The johns? They ain't saying shit, most of them are married or divorced with kids. So, what do you do? We send these two in and set up shop. Oh, it's a small operation. Higher end girls. The girls? Are all ours. The john's? All young cops on loaner. No one's banging… they just go hang out and play checkers and it all looks good."

   Senior was confused.

   "If… you're not busting hookers, and you're not busting johns, how's this get you anywhere?"

   Speedy smiled and sipped his beer…

   "Doesn't take too long. The local cops come snooping around. The husband? He's the pimp. We have our own clients. Runs the local cops off. The wife plays the madam. Takes the girls out shopping and eating. Real quick? The local whoever starts showing up. Wants paid. Making threats what could happen. The husband pimp? Runs them off, acts like they ain't got the balls. Soon as that happens? We have a team waiting. Remember, the local cops? Can't arrest anyone, they can't get a john in to get serviced. They can't get a local girl hired. What's left?"

   "Bring the muscle in, you called the local organized crime's bluff."

   "Yep. They want paid, so, they have to issue requests first, then threats second. We know when it's coming. Right after the big husband pimp says they ain't scared? Happens quick, and… we're waiting. Our guys are bunking in the rooms with the girls. And remember, everyone has a badge and a gun. The husband pimp, the madam wife, all the girls, all the johns. Works too good."

   Senior chuckled. He complimented the operation. Slick.

   "I guess this was when you worked vice back in the day…"

   "Nope, I was already homicide by then. Getting out of it, actually. Remember… I was a SWAT trainer. Once the requests and threats went down? The johns playing checkers every night with the girls? Were all my SWAT guys. These small town, local mafia setups? They act like big shit, but… everyone is waiting on the big moment. It's well coordinated, it's not like a bunch of monkeys fucking a football. Plus? It's a magic act."

   "How so?"

   "Once we're on alert? The girls come in dressed regular. So do my SWAT boys. They change into their game clothes in the room to wait. When they come back out, if they didn't come yet? They change back. So… if you're watching, it looks like the girls went in, then the guys start popping in… but… when they come running out for the big game? Everyone's in game clothes. The local tough guys? Fold like a house of cards. Plus I'm the sniper, not just the SWAT trainer. I'm posted up with a field of view. If it ever would have happened? It wouldn't have happened for very long."

   "I like it… you took out the people responsible for running the whorehouses, not just the hookers and the johns, who're replaceable."

   "Exactly. It also? Always draws out the local big baddie. They can't resist, walking out with their boys. This is my town, now you're fucked. Here comes a cop or two, maybe a chief… a councilman or the mayor… whoever thinks he's mister big? You get him."

   "Nice…"

   "You have to go back, a year or two later, and mop up the amateur talent that fills the vacuum left behind. That's an easy one though."

   "Hey. At least you get somewhere."

   Speedy made a face and sipped his beer.

   "Not really. There's only so many state police, and there's all those small to medium sized towns. You take any 5 small towns? You get one dirty chief. They start out running numbers, they move up to some drugs and running girls. You know how if you build a campfire in dry grass, how it spreads, in those little patches? That's what you feel like… you're running around, stepping on all the little fires. In the end, in the bigger scheme of things? It's just busy work, at the end of the day."

   "Hell, you sound like me now. But, at the interstate level? We know it's just going to get replaced."

   "Robbery? Homicide? Drug dealer? Con men? Always another one coming along. There's no end to it. I wouldn't say I'm burned out, and that's why I'm getting out, but… figured I might as well get out right before I do. What about you, Senior. You're a few years older than me, we've been playing this game a long time. You getting close? Or you looking for management."

   "Aw. I might as well finish my pension out. I ain't changing horses this late in the ride. If I make management? Fine, maybe I'll stay. Otherwise? I'll take my 40. I'm angling for at least my 40. If I can make it upstairs by then, I'll try it."

   "Okay. Panic, Merry… I can either stay up a little, and go to bed early. Or, I can go get a nice little nap, and stay up tonight around the fire a little. You guys get your feelings hurt, if I was to option out for the nap?"

   Panic told him to go get a nap. After Speedy had went into the empty bunkhouse and closed the door, Panic put a sign up letting everyone know to keep it down till dark, then Speedy would join them. Left with just Senior in their little group until the all hands on deck adult beverages run was completed, Senior sat and made small talk with Merry and Panic.

   Merry wasn't particularly friendly with Senior at first. He kept making gentle apologetic motions in the course of trying to converse more with Merry. Merry finally stood up to stretch her legs, and ended up standing behind Senior. She gave Panic her eyes, and it was a questioning look. Senior had just got done explaining how he was just operating on the same information everyone else at the FBI had been operating on, concerning Merry.

   Senior naturally would have thought Panic was smiling at him, because he seemed to be. In reality, Panic was looking at Merry, who was standing behind him, pointing at him, and making questioning faces. Still smiling, he gave Senior a one thumb up, and told him it was all right. Merry smiled back sly, and leaned forward and put her hands on Senior's shoulders as she began to include him in conversation more and more.

   Senior was more relaxed now that the awkward thing between them was out of the way. Standing behind him, Senior couldn't see the faces and gestures Merry made. All he heard was the slowly warming conversation she put his way.

   Smiling and eyes locked on Panic, Merry tousled Senior's graying hair.

   "Like I said, don't worry about it. Besides… you're kinda cute for an older guy. Do, uh… you guys want a refill? I'll fly."

   Panic asked for a little wine instead of beer, and Senior handed her his empty beer bottle. Merry mussed his hair affectionately, and went to get their drinks. Panic looked in his Styrofoam cup, at the tiny bit of wine in it. He said nothing. Merry put a full fresh bottle of beer into Senior's hand, and went back to standing behind him, her hands on his shoulders, again, somewhat affectionately. Panic had to pretend to take drinks of wine, tipping the tiny bit up to hit his lips without taking a drink.

   "Panic, both of you guys? Thanks for understanding. This is a lot better than the back and forth thing, before. So… this… this can work out now. Things can go well?"

   Panic smiled. Ostensibly at Senior. It was his warmest smile and facial expression he could conjure up.

   "It's gonna work out perfect, don't sweat it. Me? I'm following Speedy's instructions. Cross your legs, cross your fingers, and relax. We got all week and then some, might as well have a few drinks and have fun tonight with the boys. I mean, that's the whole point of taking a little vacation, right?"

   "Oh yeah. A seven to ten day sabbatical? Just what the doctor ordered…"

   Merry piped up, smiling at Panic.

   "Speaking of doctors, and medication… you boys want some of that apricot brandy? I know where there's some left. Senior, you'll wanna try some of this stuff before it's all gone. The boys love it. Once they get back? It won't last."

   "Sure. Why not."

   "Panic? You?"

   "Oh, what the hell."

   Merry came back with two Styrofoam cups, holding them with her fingers down in the cups, pinching them together gently. She smiled and winked at Panic, as she had regained her stance behind Senior. He kept a straight wry grin on, as Merry proceeded to let him see her slog a fair bit down into what would become Senior's cup, and a tiny dollop in what would surely become his own. Merry sashayed over and handed Panic his hidden tiny dollop, and handed Senior his over his shoulder.

   "I'm not one to tell a man how to do things, hun, but… the guy that makes this stuff? Swears you're supposed to swirl it, and smell it, right before you take a sip each time… like this…"

   Merry circularly wiggled the Styrofoam cup around under Senior's nose for him, before getting it back into his hand, for him to try it.

   "Hey… that is good…"

   Merry smiled back at Panic…

   "I know, right. Now… you boys gonna be all okay for a little while? I'm gonna go change into my party clothes, and grab the laptop and stuff. I'll be back before the boys are back with the party supplies."

   Panic sat pretending to take swallows of apricot brandy, while Senior took real slugs of it now and again. With his back to Merry's exit up the path, only Panic saw that once she was sure she wasn't being observed, Merry jogged to the cabin to make time.

   Senior talked about being happy that Merry forgave him for 'being a feeb', as she would have put it.

   "Aw, it's fine. Don't sweat it. I'm sure everything will work out perfect now…"