TREMORS: BAYOU RHYTHMS

Graham’s empty beer glass lay on the counter of the bar. He toyed with the idea of having another one, before deciding that this wasn’t a good idea. Not so early in the afternoon, at any rate. Well, I guess I’ve given him a bit of time. He looked at his watch. Maybe I won’t be disturbing him now? He shook his head. No, not with the way his luck had been going... no way! He really didn’t feel like another drink though. Guess I could go play the slots again? He looked down at the baggage. Yeah, right! Lugging that lot round with me. No thanks! Oh well, maybe one more drink...

He was about to order another coke when he got the strangest sensation at the back of his mind. He glanced round sharply. Nothing. Shaking his head slowly, he turned back to the bartender and ordered the drink. He gave an involuntary shudder. He couldn’t describe it, but he’d just had the strangest sensation, as though someone were walking over his grave.

He picked up his new drink and handed a couple of dollars to the bartender. As he did so, he forced himself to look round again. No, nothing seemed untoward and he grudgingly turned away again. He didn’t know why, but he’d just got the weirdest feeling that someone was watching him... and it was a feeling that was anything but pleasant.

"God!... Oh god... That was wonderful," Arcane sighed, lying back on the bed and recuperating, "Where d’you learn to do that?"

"That was an aperitif... one of my many skills," she chuckled, getting off him for now and tracing patterns on his chest and lips with her finger, which he licked and began to chew gently.

"Can’t wait for the main course," he grinned.

"Personally, I just love multiple desserts... don’t you?"

"My favourite part of the meal," He sat up, leaning against the headboard and tenderly reaching out to stroke her face and breasts. He gazed at her in silence for a few moments, recovering his composure and strength, enjoying the moment of gentle stillness.

"Break time’s over, Anton. Ready for that main course... or another starter?"

"No time like the present," he sprang forward, making sure he was the one to grab her this time. "Are you a religious woman?" he asked. She gave him a bemused look.

"What an unusual question. Why ever would you ask that?"

"Curiosity... are you?" "Of course not," she smiled, bringing her hands down and massaging his important little places back into life again.

"Well then... I really must make it my mission to convert you... if you know what I mean," There was a glint in his eye as he whispered to her sibilantly. She gave a little laugh, nodding, and positioned herself on all fours, spreading her legs slightly and taunting him with the view.

"Just don’t expect me to repent my sins," she purred.

"Wouldn’t dream of it," he replied, running expert hands down her back and over the buttocks, squeezing them firmly. It was the most unusual sensation he’d ever had like this. He’d been in this position with more women than he could count -- and he had a very good memory for figures -- always so soft and giving, or a modicum of firm resistance... like kneading bread, only *much* more fun. This was like fondling iron covered with silk. Not an ounce of give in those strong gluteal muscles and thighs. He had to admit though, that it was highly stimulating.

"What’s taking you so long, Anton. Last one in’s a wuss..." she chuckled.

"Last one? Planning on inviting friends?"

"Not unless you want me to. I doubt my employer would want to..."

That was it.

An image of Graham flashed into Arcane’s mind, killing his libido dead on the spot. He quickly tried to shut the image out and replaced it with the delectable view presented to him. Yes, that helped nicely.

Another image popped into his mind: More Graham... naked and with this woman! Again he shut it out, with a grimace, and concentrated on the moment. Ah, that blissful moment... until the third image of Graham insidiously entered his consciousness, this time with both him and her! Get out of my mind, you persistent little twerp!!

"Anton, I’m waiting... you want this, don’t you?" she whispered melodiously, circling her hips slightly, spreading her legs that little bit farther...

Bye bye, Graham, Arcane grinned evilly, kicking the distasteful, but disturbingly tenacious imagery into touch, and roughly entering the woman. As he held her in strong hands, first over her breasts, then by her shoulders for more purchase, he moved his hips slowly with hers, building up, not rushing things. She gave a moan of pleasure, slightly increasing the circular motion.

"Oh, you’re good..." she gasped, as a wave of pleasure passed through her body.

"I’m the best," he forced himself not to cry out as he felt it too, slowing down the pace to keep the moment going, breathing deeply and staying in control.

"I do believe you’re right... though not the most modest."

"Merely saying what is, my dear. I’ve always believed modesty to be a vastly overrated virtue." He closed his eyes. Retaining control was almost excruciating in its pain and pleasure, heightening the experience.

"That technique you used... do it again," he commanded tenderly.

"Which technique?... so many..." she whispered tantalisingly.

"The.. the last one... the muscles..."

"Oh... that one!" She gave a chuckle as she closed her eyes and concentrated, rippling strong muscles around him, squeezing, relaxing, up and down... Arcane couldn’t help release a whimper of pleasure. "How’s that?... nice?"

"Mmmm mmm," was the only thing he could bring himself to say initially as he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, digging his nails into the flesh of her shoulders.

"Saying goodbye is going to be hard this time," she said through ragged breaths.

"I was thinking just the same thing," he replied, trying so hard not to make his words sound like disjointed gasps as the moment of orgasm came closer.

"No.. no need to worry about that now... though. Such a long way off yet..." she bit down on the sheets of the bed.

"Unlike other things," was all Arcane had time to say before he gave a cry of ecstasy, gripping her shoulders so tight he left more marks and gouges in them, as he climaxed. If she even noticed the wounds, it wasn’t apparent.

Now spent, he withdrew and collapsed back onto the bed, exhausted. She lay flat on her stomach, languidly, for a few moments, before rolling over and staring up at him, a still insatiable glint to her eyes.

"I suppose you’ll want me to give you a minute before we hit that buffet table for main course?..."

Down in the bar, Graham was becoming unnerved. He hadn’t managed to shake that feeling, but every time he looked round, there was simply nothing. He was taking his time with this drink. He didn’t want to go traipsing round the hotel looking for a restroom with all this luggage. It would wait till he was able to go back in the room. Not that this was such a pleasant prospect after last night! He looked at his watch again, starting to stand up. Well, you reckon it’s been long enough? He sat down again. Not a chance!

But as he sat down, he got that disquieting feeling again... with perhaps a little more urgency to it...

"All nice and recovered now?" she grinned wickedly, sitting on top of him, fondling and playing with his hair and nipples. She reached towards him with her face, kissing him in an unusually gentle manner on the forehead, then the lips. With one hand she moved aside a lock of her hair that had fallen between them.

"Absolutely," he said with confidence.

Suddenly, her grin became positively evil and he found himself caught in those thighs again, gasping for breath.

"Can’t have that then, now, can we?" She laughed out loud, before hoisting him up. "So, whatever am I going to do with you now?..."

"Oh, a little more of the same wouldn’t go amiss," he smiled uncomfortably, trying to catch his breath. He hoped she wouldn’t leave it too long before releasing him this time. He was able to appreciate it so much more when there was blood flowing to his brain and extremities.

"Tsk, tsk, Anton. I was told you loved experimenting. Don’t you want to experiment on me?" she eased the pressure a little.

"My dear, I’d love to experiment on you for the rest of our lives!"

"Keep this pace up, sweet thing, and that can be arranged. Now just what do you feel like experimenting with?"

"I’m easy."

"It’s been said."

Arcane gave a little laugh, "A beautiful woman is a creature to treasure, especially an intelligent one, but I’ve always loved one with a good sense of humour as well."

"We need it... We have to deal with men."

"Touché," he laughed back at her.

"So, no ideas grabbing your fancy then?"

"There’s plenty of things grabbing my fancy... but I’m open to suggestions."

"How d’you like games, Anton... role-playing?"

"That does sound rather intriguing. So many delicious possibilities there, really."

"I have a few favourites, myself."

"I’m sure you do. Personally, I was always fond of ‘Doctors and Nurses’."

She gave a cruel little chuckle. " ‘Doctors and Nurses’ can be fun... for beginners. Now me --" she tightened her thighs again, making him start in shock, and flipping him over onto his stomach with consummate ease, where she pinioned him down with the weight of her body, " -- I always liked the lesser known games. Why don’t we play *my* favourite, Anton?" she heard a muffled sound coming from the pillow. "I’ll take that as a ‘yes’, shall I? Great! Yes, I was always fond of ‘Customs officials and Smugglers’... and guess who’s the customs official?"

Another muted sound was heard from within the pillow as she gave a low chuckle and began running hands over his body...

Graham glanced at his watch. Damn it, that should be enough! He’d given him well over a couple of hours. The Doctor should be nice and asleep by now and not in a state to be disturbed. He lifted his hand to signal the bartender.

" ‘nother?"

Graham shook his head, handing the man a ten dollar bill. "Thanks," he said, getting up, "but I guess I’d better head back now."

"Thank you," the man smiled, putting the bill into his shirt pocket, "Enjoy the rest of your stay... and stay cool with that boss of yours."

"Yeah... right, thanks," Graham was still wondering how much he’d told the man when he started collecting the assortment of baggage.

As he struggled upright and turned to leave, he gave a start of surprise. There’d been nobody there a minute ago, and he hadn’t heard anybody approach, yet he was greeted by almost walking into the chest of a man standing directly in front of him.

"Sorry. ‘Scuse me," he muttered, looking up at the man. As he saw the face, his own dropped noticeably, and he instantly regretted ever giving the apology. "*You*!" he snarled through gritted teeth, "What are you doing here?"

"The monkey speaks! Oh, I’m sorry, Graham. Just kidding. I didn’t really mean that. Actually, I was just getting a drink. Care to join me for one?" Jason Woodrue grinned down at him.

"I’d rather go cut my testicles off with a rusty knife," Graham quipped back, "if you’ll get out of my way, I’ve got things to do," he made an attempt to pass the man, who continued blocking him.

"As an apology to you... I’m buying. I’ve got a caustic sense of humour sometimes and it hurts people. At least allow me to say sorry properly."

"Yeah, sure. Does your apology cover murder last night?" he said, though in a more hushed tone so the bartender couldn’t hear... although he wasn’t in earshot anyway.

"Murder!!??" Woodrue looked genuinely shocked.

"Don’t play innocent. I’m not stupid."

"I never said you were, Graham, but murder... whoa!" Woodrue held his hands up in a ‘stop’ gesture. "I kinda think I’d remember if I’d killed someone last night."

"Go play someone else for a sucker, Woodrue. Geoffrey Carter... except it wasn’t Carter you were aiming for, was it?"

Woodrue still continued to look perplexed.

"Graham. I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about. I admit I was pretty abusive to poor Carter.. and you, last night -- I was in a bad mood, and you were all in the wrong place at the wrong time -- but I didn’t murder anyone. Cross my heart and hope to... well, have something unpleasant happen."

"I saw the look on your face when you walked past us afterwards."

"Sure. I’d just walked past a corpse of someone I’d been talking to minutes before. What did you want me to look like... smiling?"

"Hardly out of place for you," Graham snarled.

"I’m wounded... but considering the insults I gave, fair enough," He smiled back warmly.

Graham wracked his brains, thinking of what Dr. Arcane had said.

"Yeah, well what were you doing in a Steakhouse... being a vegetarian and all."

"Well, clearly your precious Doctor’s spying techniques aren’t what they used to be, or he’d have realised I stopped being a vegetarian three years ago."

"Then why did you leave without having a meal. Get out of that one, Woodrue,"

"Simple. I’d just made a call on my celphone, and something urgent came up that I had to attend to. My meal couldn’t wait. ‘Fraid I can’t tell you what it was. That is confidential, but nothing to do with any of you, I can assure you."

Graham seemed unsure, his previous certainty wavering. They’d been so sure Woodrue had done it, but everything he’d said had been possible, hadn’t it? And when all’s said and done, it was just a guess that he’d been the killer, based on observations that Woodrue had just given plausible excuses for. And Carter did have a medical problem anyway. ‘Course, he still didn’t trust the slimy excuse for a man one bit!

"Graham? If I was trying to kill Carter... sorry, Arcane, why would I bother even trying to explain it to you now?" Good point, Graham had to admit, though whatever Woodrue said, he wasn’t likely to forgive or forget what he’d said to him in the steakhouse.

"It was you that was watching me, wasn’t it?" Graham enquired.

"Well, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t see you by the bar -- and I did wonder for a few minutes if I should go up, or leave things as they were -- but I eventually decided to try and patch things up."

"Not for a few minutes. For the last couple of hours or so."

"Not guilty," Woodrue replied. "Been busy elsewhere until just before now... Scouts honour... metaphorically," he grinned.

Graham was still concerned. He’d definitely felt someone watching him for a long time now. He was certain it had been Woodrue just now. But yeah, why would the creep lie to him? He hadn’t exactly been one to hide his feelings before, had he?

"I’m not convinced."

"So let me convince you... say over a drink. Just one small drink. Hey! I’ll let you order them just to make sure they’re not poisoned!" he quipped, handing Graham a ten dollar bill.

Well, what harm would it do? Graham considered. He didn’t have anything to rush back for really. Just seeing Woodrue was getting the adrenaline pumping away now, and he wasn’t going to get any rest himself for a while. Who knows, maybe he could get Woodrue to slip up with something and get a piece of information that would be useful to Doctor Arcane.

"Can’t say I think you will, but feel free to try. It’s your money," he replied, signalling for the bartender to get another coke.

"Cognac for me. Bit of a celebration," Woodrue added to the bartender, and as the drinks were poured, he and Graham sat down again, "... for my victory in the conference, of course..."

Back in the room, everything was pretty much becoming a blur to Arcane. He definitely needed to work on his stamina! He lay back on the bed and looked at the woman -- still hadn’t found out her name -- as she massaged his feet and legs. How gracious of her to allow him two minutes respite before the next bout! He couldn’t help glancing at the only item he was still wearing... his watch. Two hours!! Had it really been that? Doesn’t time fly when you’re having fun? Maybe the stamina wasn’t a problem?

The first time had been fantastic. The second, amazing. The third... well, the third he was a little less enthusiastic about, but nothing that couldn’t be put right with a few weeks of intensive therapy by a good counsellor. The fourth was indescribable, as the claw marks down both their bodies were testament to; and by the time they’d had the fifth, the phrase ‘Tatania who?’ was echoing through his thoughts, as he contemplated how much he’d save on electricity bills not having a cryo storage unit to worry about, and all the free time for his other experiments. The rest just blurred into unimaginable joy. He never realised the full potential of restricting or increasing blood flow to certain parts of the body; or the use of pressure nodes on others, and the, well, enhancing effects it could have when arousing the old senses. He felt like his entire central nervous system had been ripped out and given a damned good overhaul.

"I’m more than tempted to offer you a permanent job. There’s always room at Arcane Industries for someone of your... ‘unique’ talents," he whispered.

"And Arcane Industries hires whores on its payroll?" she smiled at him.

"Whatever you want to call yourself, ‘whore’ simply doesn’t do you justice. I was thinking more along the lines of ‘head of security’, myself," he quipped, remembering those thighs and those hands, and that... I’d like to see Holland try and take *this* one out! He felt safer already.

"Head of Security. How quaint."

"The hours are good."

"I like the graveyard shift."

"The pay’s wonderful."

"It’s the tips I’m interested in."

"Oh, you’ll have more tips than you can handle."

"Don’t bet on it. I can handle a lot!"

"Why d’you think I’m offering you the job? But best of all, you get to work directly under me"

"And over you as well??"

"That too," he gave an enigmatic little smile.

"I’ll be sure to give it some thought, Anton. However, in the meantime..."

Oh God! Here we go again! Mind and body braced themselves as he gripped the bed in readiness, as she advanced on him with the sort of look a hungry hawk might give a juicy rodent, just before it dives in for the kill; or a bulimic at the start of their binge as they’ve just spied that whole shelf of plump little cream cakes...

"You know, that’s quite a bit of baggage you’re carrying around, Graham. Arcane always keep you loaded up like that? Isn’t it all such a burden for you?" Woodrue looked down at Graham’s entourage of carry cases.

"Not as much as the one I just picked up," Graham retorted.

"Touché. Still, can’t blame you after last night... the insults I mean... Go ahead. I deserve it... we both do."

What you deserve I won’t even begin to try and describe. "You said you wanted to convince me. So convince me." Graham said coldly.

"Graham, what can I do to put your mind at ease?"

"Jump from the top floor."

"Something a little less drastic, perhaps?"

"Tenth floor then?"

"Ooh, definitely lots of residual hostility to get through here, I see."

You couldn’t begin to imagine how much hostility.

"You’re not convincing me," Graham took a sip of his coke, keeping a wary eye on the luggage. It occurred to him that this might be a diversion so Woodrue could get his hands on it. He seemed interested enough.

"You’re not exactly approaching this with an open mind, Graham."

"You’ve hardly given me reason to, Woodrue."

"You know, I think I may have been hasty in my judgement of you last night. It’s not immediately apparent, but I think there’s more to you than any of his other assistants I’ve run into. I think you’ve got a capacity for a lot more than you let on, Graham."

"Not that it’s any concern of yours,"

"I think you’ll survive quite a while, Graham... metaphorically speaking, of course."

"No thanks to you and Carla Jeffries!"

"Carla!?" Woodrue’s eyes lit up, and Graham cursed inwardly for mentioning the woman’s name to him. "Now what’s Carla got to do with all this."

"Like you don’t know," Graham feigned ignorance, hoping for the slip from Woodrue.

"I don’t know, Graham. Really... I don’t."

"You’re telling me you’re not in it together?"

"In what together? Oh... you mean this supposed murder? You mean Carla’s trying to kill Arcane?" Graham just gave him a look implying that it wasn’t worth his while answering that one. "Now that is most disconcerting," Woodrue looked decidedly unhappy here... realistically so. "I think it fair to say that if Carla’s on the rampage for the good Doctor Arcane, she’s also got me in her sights. I appreciate the warning, Graham."

Don’t appreciate it... ignore it and die!

"So you’re not in it together?" Graham said suspiciously.

"As I said, I’m not in *anything*... but I wouldn’t put it past Carla."

"And you’re just a picture of innocence,"

"The imagery of that analogy is all wrong... but essentially, yes." Woodrue took a sip of his cognac. "Mmm, very nice," he commented. "So what makes you think Carla’s up to something?"

"We’ve got our reasons."

"Deliberately being vague, are we."

"Guess you are kind of observant after all."

"Anything interesting in the luggage?" Came the swift subject change. There was something disquieting about Woodrue’s apparent friendliness. Graham suspected the man was anything but genuine about all this -- except maybe the bit about Carla -- but couldn’t begin to fathom his motives -- unless he was after the luggage, but that was taken care of, wasn’t it? -- but there still seemed to be something very wrong about the whole situation.

"Remember my last reply?"

"That’s okay, Graham. I didn’t expect an answer. Just making idle conversation really."

"Haven’t you got anything better to do?" Graham snarled.

"Not right now, no. Right now, this is exactly what I want to do: Make idle conversation with you, Graham... while away a few pleasant moments drinking cognac with the assistant of my old adversary. If I was interested in those few stolen research papers from our esteemed colleagues here --" he inclined his head towards Graham’s luggage, " -- I’d have nabbed ‘em myself ages ago." Graham swallowed nervously. So he knew... and didn’t care; and his tone was beginning to develop a dangerous edge to it again.

"What do you want, Woodrue!?"

"Isn’t it obvious. I just told you."

"You just wanted to spend time with me?"

"Yep. Yes indeedy. Precisely." Woodrue glanced at his watch. "Ooh, two and a half hours. Yes, that should have been more than enough time by now," he took another sip of cognac.

"A diversion?" Graham looked at the luggage with concern. "Why? You said you weren’t interested in this."

"I’m not. I wouldn’t even have bothered with this conversation, but you looked like you were leaving just a bit early. Probably would have been all right, but even just a few extra minutes can make all the difference in the world. Should all be over now though. Most likely over a couple of hours ago, in fact... but best to make certain. You know, you could always get a job with me, Graham? I like you... and I think you’ll be needing a new job soon..."

"What the... ? OH GOD!... Doctor Arcane!!??" He saw the smile of pure, unadulterated evil crossing Jason Woodrue’s face, confirming his worst fears. How could he have been so stupid!!??

"If it’s any consolation, little monkey, let’s just say that some of the good Doctor’s last moments on earth were probably very happy ones... pity, really," Woodrue glanced to his left to make sure the bartender was still nowhere near, and not hearing any of this. He raised of glass of cognac to Graham, finishing it in one gulp and laughing softly, "Told you it was a celebration!"

"Bastard!" Graham snarled, launching himself to his feet and setting off, Woodrue’s laughter still echoing in his mind. He stopped abruptly. Wait! That could be a trick! He dashed back, fumbling inside his jacket pocket for money... anything! He shoved a pile of notes into the bartender’s hand. He didn’t even know what they were, but the bartender seemed surprised and pleased. "Look after these," he gasped, indicating the luggage, "Don’t let anyone near them... *ANYONE*... ‘specially *him*!" Graham pointed to Jason Woodrue, who just smiled and waved.

"Sure, pal. I’ll put ‘em behind the bar where they’ll be real safe."

But Graham was already gone.

"I can't tell you how impressed I am, Anton. Still going after all this time. Now where do you keep those energizer batteries? Shall we explore and find out?.." she smiled wickedly.

Arcane just lay back on the bed, gasping for breath. He doubted his body would move more than a few inches. He was a doctor with an expert grasp of anatomy, but he had aches and bruises in places even he never knew existed. Life was so wonderful, wasn't it?..

He tried to get up, but his whole body felt like it had turned to jelly. He collapsed back into the pillows, exhausted. Dammit, you're Anton Arcane! A little voice called out at the back of his mind, and he tried again, managing to sit up this time.

"Now what are we going to do next?" she started licking his chest.

Oh God NO! He never thought he'd pray for a time when someone would refuse sex! Don't you ever get a headache?..

"Collapse in a heap and wait until tomorrow... assuming you are still here tomorrow?"

"Oh, I'll be still here tomorrow, Anton. You won't ever have to worry about my leaving you," She said playfully, getting up from the bed and eyeing him eagerly, "I promise... trust me..."

Graham was hyperventilating as he waited in abject frustration by the elevators. He'd considered taking the stairs, but for the distance involved, it wasn't going to be practical; and he wouldn't be in any fit state for anything that might greet him when he got back to the room. Please God, let him be okay. *Please* let it just be some sick joke of Woodrue’s. What's he done!!??He closed his eyes and bit his lip, I'm sorry I got mad at you, Doctor. All my fault. He wouldn't have needed to go back to the room to rest if it wasn't for me. I'm so sorry...

He'd considered using his celphone, but without knowing what was going on, would that make things worse?? "Come *on*!... COME ON YOU STUPID FUCKING THING!!" he snarled angrily, startling the group of people beside him as he slammed his fist into the wall in impotent fury as the elevator seemed to take forever to arrive. He was given a few nervous glances, and several people backed away. He never even noticed. Perspiring, he fumbled in his jacket pocket for the keycard, thinking it best to get it ready to save time when he got there. Be quiet when you get there. You don't know what'll be on the other side of that door. "COME ON!!!"

When the elevator finally arrived, Graham was the only one getting inside. Outside, a large group of people decided that waiting a few minutes for the next one wasn't such a bad idea.

"Come along, Anton. I've got one last little treat for you," she took his hand, trying to get him to stand up.

No. Oh no, please, no more... "I think a little rest first, my dear," he replied as calmly as he was able, trying to will feeling back into his legs again. "Poor baby all tired then?" Poor baby' bloody knackered more like! "Nothing a short delay can't handle, dear lady," he quipped. Or a week in intensive care!

She laughed, "No rest for the wicked, Anton, sweetie. I'll be gentle this time... promise. You won't have to do a single thing. Let me do it all for you..." her voice soothed as she pulled him towards her, forcing him to stand. "Come with me," she led him away from the bed, over to the other side of the room where her bag was on the floor.

He faltered a couple of times, in a daze, trying not to stagger too much. He managed fairly well, all things considered.

"I'll let you rest soon. Just a little more. Now all you have to do is just stand there like a good little Anton, and let little moi do all the work for you," she said in a low, sultry voice as she got to her knees, burying her face in his groin.

"Well, maybe just a little more wouldn't go amiss," he said, giving a small moan of pleasure, but still having to put his hand out to the table next to them to steady himself. Strong, supple fingers probed his back and buttocks as her mouth did the rest of the work, sending him into a private little world of ecstasy as the last ounces of strength were being sapped from him...

Faster, you stupid thing! Graham paced back and forth across the tiny little room as it made it's way upwards. Too slow! COME ON!...

"There, wasn't that nice, Anton?" she laughed, removing her mouth as he gave a final moan and a shudder. He couldn't speak, merely nodding. "Mrnrnrn... must have been. First time you haven't said anything,"

"No.. no more... at least.. not today..." he managed to gasp out.

"No more, I promise. Just one last little treat..." she reached into her handbag, and his eyes widened in terror. She smiled when she saw him. "Relax, Anton, no more physical exploits for you. I'm going to let you rest now... a nice loooong rest. This treat's just for me... All you have to do is watch, and absolutely nothing else."

"I like the sound of that... don't take that the wrong way," he whispered.

"On the contrary, I'll take it as a compliment. Oh yes, it's going to be such fun... now close those pretty little eyes for just a moment."

"There! Now you can open them again," she said softly, and he complied.

There was something about the sudden sight of finding yourself looking down the barrel of a handgun and silencer, angled up at your chest, to make any thoughts of pleasure or tiredness just fade into insignificance. "My wallet's in my jacket," his voice was soft, but filled with bitter disappointment, "It wasn't necessary... I'd have happily given you anything you wanted."

"I doubt you'd willingly give me what I want. I didn't come for your money, Arcane, but thank you for the advice. I'll be sure to pick it up on my way out." Arcane gave a knowing, resigned little nod of the head.

"Well, if you didn't come for my money -- and there's no research with me -- I can only assume that it's my life that you're here for."

"Congratulations. You win first prize for guessing correctly. I can't truly say that I think you'll like it though."

"Why? Why all this elaborate charade? Why didn't you just kill me when you came in... or during for that matter? It's not as though you haven't had the opportunity."

"Like any assassin, I have methods that I stick to. But yes, I did actually intend killing you at the beginning, but you didn't play fair. You didn't want the handcuffs. It would have been so much simpler -- and quicker -- with the handcuffs. I'm not under any obligation to make it look like an accident, but there was a bonus in it for me if I did. Pity. Bringing that plastic bag, the orange and the bottle of Amyl Nitrite all this way for nothing. C'est fa vie, I suppose. The best laid plans and all that..."

"How tiresome for you. My apologies for spoiling those best laid plans."

"Not at all. All things considered, I'm pretty pleased with the way it went. The handcuffs would have been quicker and easier, yes, but not half as much fun. Plans aren't the only things that need to get laid..." she gave him a broad smile. "I like your face, Arcane. It's cute. I'll shoot you in the chest instead."

"I'm touched by your generosity."

"Think nothing of it, sweet thing. A lady has to show her gratitude after being shown such a good time... and I have had a *very* good time, but alas, all good things..." She began to squeeze the trigger.

"Wait!" Arcane said hurriedly, fighting hard to keep control, and succeeding, for now.

"Just this once then..." she eased off on the trigger, "... although stalling me really isn't going to help you. But since it's you, I'll give you a few words. I wouldn't do this for just anybody. I hope you realise that. I wasn't lying when I said that it would be a shame to finish this. You do have a certain charm... and stamina, which I find so tragically rare."

"Then why finish it? Why don't we..."

"I don't think you ought to continue with that line of talk, Anton. I'll allow you to say what you want, but only up to a certain degree. Let's just say that I'm a professional, and I have a reputation to consider, and it's not open to negotiation. Now what was it you wanted to say?"

"Just tell me who it was. Carla Jeffries? Jason Woodrue?.. A third party?"

"What difference does it make who it was, Arcane? As a professional, you know I'm not going to reveal my employer."

"What difference does it make if I'm going to die?"

"Don't try to turn this into some sort of a bad James Bond movie, Arcane? I thought I could expect better of you. Why do they always imagine that you'll reveal some vital secret before you kill them?"

"I wish it were a bad James Bond movie; then you wouldn't be personally making sure you shoot me through the heart. You'd have me strapped to some inescapable device that I'd inevitably escape from after you'd leave me with enough time to do this, yes?"

She couldn't resist giving a little chuckle. "That's more like it. No, Anton, I'm not leaving you to any lackeys. I'm not planning to kill you in some fiendish device that I won't stick around to even watch. I won't tell you any plans or secrets before I do you in. I won't even give a single maniacal laugh or a *really* bad farewell pun, I promise. And I definitely won't tell you who my employer is. Now is that it? As pleasant as all this has been, I do have a life to get on with."

Arcane gave an ironic smile.

"How nice that one of us gets to continue with their life. You know, it really doesn't matter from your viewpoint. I know it's almost certainly one of those two, and since both of them have had a go at me already this weekend...? Can you at least confirm if it was one of them? Is that asking too much? If I have to die, I don't want to do it without having some idea of who's responsible. Short of a seance, who am I going to tell when I'm dead? There's nobody else here, and no listening devices or recorders, are there? The only way it could possibly have any bearing on you is if you acknowledged the possibility of my survival... which would mean that in some way, you didn't have total faith in either your desire or ability to kill me... which, alas, doesn't seem too likely. Besides, knowing that pair of egocentric hacks, they'd *want* me to know which of 'em was responsible before I died. The thought of my getting bumped off without some last dying curse of their name would positively mortify them... trust me. I'm surprised they didn't make it part of your contract." This, she seemed to consider.

"Yes, I can certainly see that, I do have to concede. Oh go on, since I'm an old softie at heart, Arcane. You can thank Dr. Woodrue for your current predicament."

"And there I was thinking all this would be Carla's style. You never can tell, can you?"

"Well, if that'll be all?" she began squeezing the trigger again.

"Not quite," he said with more than a hint of panic.

"Arcane, you really are beginning to try my patience here. Most of my victims at least take it without trying blatant stalling tactics to gain them just a few extra minutes. It's not like you're going to get any more than that. All this squirming is most unbecoming, Anton."

"Then why haven't you killed me already? Perhaps our time together did mean more to you than you realise? Is that desire for the kill really that resolute?" he allowed his voice to have an inquisitive tone to it, before changing it slowly into a softer, more appealing one, "Surely we can come to some arrangement? I've got a lot more to offer you than Jason Woodrue ever could."

"I dare say you have, Arcane, but nonetheless, Dr. Woodrue is my employer, not you, and as I said, I do have a reputation to consider." "I can't believe the last two and a half hours meant absolutely nothing to you. Everything that we did together. It was special, was it not? You'd give that up for Woodrue and whatever unworthy paycheque he's offered for those unique services of yours that one simply can't put an upper price on?"

"Stop now, before I throw up; and can it with the psychobabble, Arcane. I've got a degree in psychology. Laying it on thick with the flattery, and instilling a feeling of empathy and bonding is all very admirable, but it isn't going to work with me."

"Don't I even get credit for trying?"

"Uh uh," she shook her head coldly, "What you get, Arcane, is a bullet. No more, no less. Still, I do admire your tenacity and reserve. Usually I just get abject grovelling."

"The abject grovelling comes straight after the psychobabble and the bribery fail. I can start right now if you want?"

She shook her head slightly, giving a sigh and a little laugh.

"A pity Woodrue hired me before I got to know you, Arcane, but that's just the luck of the I draw. Life's hard... then you die." Keeping the gun on him all the time, she rose to her full height, looking him in the eye, and her finger starting to move against the trigger yet again.

Arcane fought hard to stop panic taking over completely. Think, Anton, think!! He desperately wracked his brains for anything that he could say that would stall her a bit longer. *Anything*! Not that he knew what he was stalling for. Maybe, just maybe he could distract her? Recover some strength? He'd have to get the gun... somehow: A fight against that was out of the question. Hypnotism? Ha! not even worth a second thought with her!

Whatever! He had to do something. His finding some way out of this was as likely as Alec Holland winning a beauty contest, but standing here doing nothing was definitely only going to make him more extinct than a Dodo.

"I understand your wanting to put me at ease before going for the kill... and get yourself a bit of fun into the bargain... but two and a half hours of*that*! Why? Wasn't it just a bit of overkill... if it didn't mean anything to you, as you claim?" Again she paused.

"You know your problem, Arcane. You talk too much. I never claimed it didn't mean anything, only that it wouldn't affect my contract... and it won't, make no mistake about that. This is the last explanation you're ever going to get. If you utter one single word again, I'll take that as a cue to shoot you immediately, without question, without hesitation. Understood?" He nodded... silently. "The last two and a half hours were a wonderful diversion, yes. They were also practical. Since you didn't want to play ball and let yourself be chained up, there was always the chance you'd get a break and fight back. Now I doubt you'd stand a chance against me, but Woodrue warned me you had a lucky streak as large as that ego of yours, and I don't like to take chances, however slight. Two and a half hours with me, baby, and you're not defending yourself in any way shape or form! To be honest, I really didn't think it was going to go on for two and a half hours. If I had, I'd've made alternative arrangements at the beginning. I'm impressed you're still standing now. Most men don't even make it to one hour with their consciousness intact!"

The telltale click of the door opening made her automatically glance towards it, distracting her attention from Arcane for the briefest of moments. This is it! Don't bugger this one up, Anton, it's the only chance you're going to get!

"I thought I told you, I'm not most men --" he let go of the table that was supporting him, summoning every last ounce of strength he had. It was as though everything was in slow motion as he saw his target clearly ahead of him, " -- I'm Anton Arcane!" he snarled, kicking out at her hand, sending the gun flying high into the air. The immediate danger over for at least a second or two, Arcane himself turned to see what the disturbance had been. "GRAHAM!! Graham, for God's sake, GET THE BLOODY GUN! !"

Graham had approached the room in fear and dread, not knowing what he'd find. Would the Doctor be dead or alive? Would he be there at all? What state would things be in?? Hundreds of images had passed through his mind of things that could have happened. When he'd opened that door, he was tensed, ready to deal with anything that may jump out at him.

The image he didn't expect to see was two stark naked people: Arcane and some woman, standing talking with one another, and both looking like they'd been dragged backwards through the tiger enclosure at the zoo! For all his good intentions, it did distract him momentarily.

"GRAHAM!! Graham, for God's sake, GET THE BLOODY GUN! !" Arcane's words filtered through to his dazed consciousness, and he became aware that his distraction had caused the Doctor to kick something out of the woman's hand. Without hesitation, Graham found himself leaping forward, launching himself off the ground towards the object flying past him. He reached out with his fingers, giving a small cry with the effort.

His fingers were all he managed to touch it with. Just the merest of brushes against it, altering its trajectory and sending it into the far wall, where it slid down between that and the bed. As it knocked against the wall, a shot went off, muffled by the silencer. Where the bullet went was anybody's guess. Graham leaped onto the bed, scrambling after it. He glanced back, expecting the woman to be coming after him. She wasn't.

"Thinking of making a break for it while I go after him, Arcane. I don't think so! I can deal with him in a second or two. You first!" A side thrust kick rammed into Arcane's gut, making him reel backwards, stunned. She followed through with a reverse fist uraken, which collided with Arcane's face, sending him crashing to the floor, blood pouring from his nose. When it was clear that Arcane wasn't going to be crawling anywhere, let along running, she turned her attention to Graham, still scrabbling furiously over the bed, trying to reach down the side of it to locate the fallen weapon.

"Uh uh uh!" she gestured to the negative with her index finger, a predatory gleam in her eyes, "Now for you!"

Graham hadn't even set eyes on where the gun was, when strong hands gripped his leg. He braced himself, grabbing hold of the mattress for purchase, but there was no denying that grip and strength, as he was dragged backwards bodily, giving a yell of surprise. The hands clawed their way up his legs until he felt himself being grabbed by the trouser belt and picked up bodily. He tried to turn and give a kick at anything in range, and succeeded in making contact with the woman's stomach and chest. If she even felt it, it didn't slow her down one iota. He was the one that grunted in pain as the impact jarred him. She rolled off the bed, dragging Graham with her, where she backhanded him in the face and sent him flying, following pretty much the same course as the gun, landing against the wall with a thud. Dazed and confused, he collapsed in a little heap on the bed, groaning weakly and barely moving.

"Well, that takes care of Robin... now for Batman!" she grinned, moving back to Arcane, who by now was just about getting to his feet again. "I really don't need a gun to finish you off, you know that. A shame he'll have to die too now, but I can hardly have witnesses, can I? They don't enhance a lady's reputation one jot," she glanced back at Graham.

Panting heavily with the sheer exertion and wiping the blood from his face, Arcane backed off, grabbing a chair and interposing it between himself and the woman.

"I.. I meant... what... what I said," he gasped weakly. "We.. we can work... something out... to.. to your benefit..." he said desperately, gauging her body language as it advanced on him menacingly.

"Not only still standing after before, but recovering from just now... and fighting back. This has all been so much more complicated than usual... but also more interesting." It didn't take Arcane's genius to see that her speech held none of the exhaustion his was showing. A wave of sick fear hit him as it crossed his mind that somehow, a flimsy wooden chair didn't seem adequate defence. He doubted a heavy assault rifle was adequate defence against this woman! He could barely even see her properly. Flashing lights were still dogging his vision after that blow to his face. He'd have glanced to see what Graham was doing, but that would have meant taking his eyes off her for half a second.

It would have been fatal.

Talk, Anton. Let's face it, there isn't any other way out of this!

"How... how much is he paying you? I.. I can... make it worth.. "

"Been there, done that. Bought the cast album, wore the T-shirt. Bribery's a no-no! Now are you ready for some fun, sweetie. It's showtime!" Her foot lashed out in a front snap kick, followed by a swift and violent circle kick, totally smashing the chair in Arcane's hands to fragments, leaving him holding only a pair of shattered wooden arms. The look in her eyes as she came nearer had that same gleam that they had during their 'relationship' earlier. Arcane gulped nervously, his pain almost forgotten in all the fear... the multitude of adrenaline, endorphins and enkephalins doing their work admirably. It was at times like this, he'd really appreciated the fact that he'd used his genetic skills to augment himself to some degree. Had Woodrue augmented this woman too? If not, and it was all natural, it just didn't bear thinking about! !

"I'd ask you if you had any last words, but knowing you, I'd just get a rendition of War and Peace, so let's just cut to business. Bye bye, Anton. It's been fun..."

Improvising, Arcane tried to assume some sort of defensive stance, using the wooden fragments in his arms as weapons. He'd never tried to learn Arnis de Mano, but now seemed as good a time as any! He knew he wasn't as strong, or as fast, or as skilled as his opponent. His only chance was his supreme intellect; that and the fact that being scared shitless for one's life had a tendency to make one capable of much more than normal. Psychology, observation, dodging, constant reasoning, and hoping she'd make some sort of mistake... they were his only real defences here.

She leaped forward, giving a series of front kicks, axe kicks and a spinning, circle kick. He blocked the first with the makeshift staves, dodged the second... but the third got him square in the chest, sending him slamming into the far side of the bed. For the life of him, he couldn't retain control of the staves, and lay stunned for a moment. That was all she needed to get on top of him, those thighs wrapping themselves around his chest, and her hands pinning his own to the floor. He was utterly helpless.

"Please! Wait, I... AAAHHHH!!!" It was the only words he was able to get out before the breath was squeezed from his body. If he thought those thighs were brutal before, he now realised just how much she'd been holding back previously. He felt the blood flow being cut off from his extremities again, and breathing became almost impossible. His eyes bulged in shock as the sound of ribs beginning to crack became audible. With contractions of her muscles, the grip tightened, and his scream became soundless. Everything was growing intensely light... then darker, and the world seemed to be fading away to nothing...

A cry of rage and desperation was barely heard, as Arcane thought he saw a form leaping for them. As Graham made contact, knocking her from Arcane, the Doctor began gulping air in for all he was worth. If he'd been able to think or move, he might have considered looking for the gun, or escaping... but he was in no shape to do either for a minute or two.

Turning her attention to Graham, she gave him a look that was halfway between murderous rage and excited pleasure. It was a look Graham had never seen in his worst nightmares, and hoped he never had cause to see it again... His mind rephrased that: He hoped he'd live a long and happy life never seeing that look again.

"Aren't we the tenacious one, then?" she growled in what seemed like pleasure. "You should have taken your opportunity to get out of the room while you could."

"And leave Dr. Arcane!" He forced himself into a defiant mode, hoping she wouldn't see him shaking too much.

"Such loyalty. That should normally get rewarded, but in your case..." she sprang forward, grabbing him by the shirt and groin, lifting him over her head and throwing him into the wall again. "Now stay there, like a good little bug till I'm ready to deal with YOU!" She then turned back to Arcane, who was only just managing to inch backwards against the wall.

"Only delaying the inevitable, Anton. Giving in will be so much easier," she straddled him again, assuming the position of before, pinning and crushing him.

As his vision blurred, a single, desperate thought grabbed his attention. He couldn't move his arms again, but his head was a different matter. Reaching over for all he was worth he managed to get his mouth to the woman's arm, and bit down till his teeth met each other.

She certainly noticed that, as the scream was testament to. The thighs continued to do their work, but the grip on his arms was released. Immediately after spitting out a lump of flesh, he reached out and clutched the bedsheets above him, dragging the whole bundle down in a heap to his side. Where is it!!? WHERE IS IT!? !? ! He fumbled desperately inside the mass of linen as he felt another couple of bones popping in his chest. His eyes widened in desperate glee as his fingers met metal.

With a forced snarl of effort, he brought the scissors up and thrust them ahead of him, not seeing or caring where they went, as long as they did the trick. They did.

Falling away from him, she got to her feet, reeling from the blow, a pair of scissors protruding from her side. Non-fatal. Damn! Arcane cursed to himself, but at least he was free for now. Staggering back, she removed the scissors and tossed them away.

"Now you're really starting to piss me off!" she muttered, advancing.

"Oh shit!" he whimpered, struggling to his feet and making a desperate attempt to throw himself over the bed to escape her onslaught. She leapt past him, grabbing him by the hair and bringing him to a crash landing on the floor by the foot of the bed.

As he lay on his stomach, winded and gasping, he felt her jump on top of him, her hands grabbing him round the head and neck. It was all over now, he knew that. No time for even a single tear. In just one more second, his neck would be snapped like a chicken's.

"NOOOO!!!" Graham's cry echoed out, as Arcane felt another weight jump on top of them both, trying vainly to pull her hands from Arcane's head. He couldn't budge them.

"I'm getting the gun, Sir!" he yelled, leaping off her and Arcane in a hurry, and diving under the far bed, finally seeing it lying there beneath it. "Kill him and you're dead, lady!" He called back.

Turning back to Arcane, the woman considered her options. Arcane certainly would be dead before this man could reach the gun, let alone return. No doubt about that; but not even she could reach Graham under there in time, and he would get the weapon. Perhaps she could get it off him? Perhaps not? All this had gone far beyond professional pride. Was killing Arcane worth risking her own life?

"Hello?? Anybody there? I saw the door was open and I... OH MY!" A voice called in from the doorway, causing two floor-based, multi-storey positioned faces to turn in the direction of the door that Graham must have left open in his panic. Arcane never thought he'd ever live to see the day when he'd be so glad to see a Kipp! "I'm, er, I.. I don't know what to say. . ." Marcia averted her eyes, before straightening up and remembering just who the hell she was! "No! Damn it, NO!" She insisted, resolutely, "Wait just a minute! Dr. Arcane, is this some sort of joke?" she asked belligerently, "Are you deliberately inviting me over to play these tricks on me every time!?"

"This isn't what it seems, Marcia, I swear," he called out, before a cruel thought came to him, even forcing a grin through his agony. "No, I apologise. I'm lying. I shouldn't have said that. This is *exactly* what it looks like... isn't it, dear?" he tried to crane his head upwards to look at the assassin. In a lower tone, he whispered to her; "No witnesses, you said. You'll have to kill her, you know. Of course, she'll no doubt make a break for it. She's right at the door... and there are probably other people in the corridor. And, of course, she does happen to be the manager of this hotel... Now why don't we get up and discuss this properly?"

Somehow, seeing a way out was giving Arcane the strength he needed, even helping him mask any pain or breathlessness from his voice that he should have been showing from the broken ribs. With a forced smile, the woman began to move herself off the prone Doctor, and both of them managed to stagger to their feet. Even the assassin was beginning to pant from the exertion now... slightly.

"Marcia, I can assure you that this wasn't intended as any embarrassment or slight on you. When we made our arrangements, I had no idea that this, er, situation would crop up. I even put a 'do not disturb' sign on the door, but *someone* --" he faked an angry glare at Graham, before remembering that the woman couldn't see him under there, "-- didn't bother to close the door after coming in." Marcia looked confused, seeing nobody where Arcane I was looking at, but let that ride for now. "I can only apologise yet again, madam."

"Well, if it's all the same with you, Doctor, I don't think I'm wanted here. I'd best be leaving," she couldn't help glancing at the pair of them. However much she wanted to avert her eyes, it wasn't easy. "Doctor, why are you both injured?"

"We, er, we play rough, don't we, my darling... and no, Marcia, you're not interrupting at all."

I'm NOT interrupting?? Oh boy! He's not nasty, he's just insane, or sick...

" -- In fact, why don't we finalise our little arrangements for that thing I mentioned previously. And you can meet my new girlfriend." He hugged the assassin closely. "Isn't she just beautiful? Look carefully at those eyes... that hair... that face... that body. Aren't they so very memorable?" he whispered softly in the assassin's ear, "... especially in a police lineup." He turned back to Marcia. "Tell you what, why don't I..."

"... Doctor Arcane," she interrupted him, raising her finger in her time honoured schoolteacher-like mode, "You are aware that both you and your lady friend are totally I naked, aren't you?"

It might have seemed pretty obvious to anyone looking in, but in all honesty, it hadn't actually occurred to Arcane. Maybe it was something about being beaten senseless and in mortal terror for one's life, and being seconds from that very death that made trivial details such as that become somewhat forgotten in all the rush... "You have a point. Ahem, yes... look, I can contact you at the hotel. I'll call you, all right?" He instinctively made a move to pick up a piece of fallen linen and hold it in front of himself.

Don't hurry on my account... I'm getting a bad feeling about all of this...

"I do hope this doesn't put you off wanting to come and visit --"

Good Lord.. why ever should it do that? I wander into wrecked rooms with naked; even more wrecked; copulating guests all the time.. but feel right at home because they've invited me to tea during it...

"-- I'm so looking forward to it, and I'm sure you'd be concerned if I was so rude as to simply disappear and not try to contact you again, wouldn't you?" he gave the assassin an extra hard hug, just to make the point clearer. He noticed Marcia looking concernedly at the broken furniture. "We tend to get a little carried away when we get into the swing of things... don't we, my sweetheart?" he gave the assassin another loving hug and a saccharine smile that would have had anyone reaching for the barf bags. He turned back to Marcia, "I assure you, I'll cover all damages."

I'd rather you covered yourself and your lady friend; Doctor Arcane. It's only furniture. Forget about it, Marcia. Get the hell out of this room, NOW!

"Fine. I'm sure you will. I really think I ought to be going."

Jolly good, you do that, now that you've served your purpose...

"I'll call you... thank you..." he smiled, waving to her.

"Unnhhh I've... I've got it, Doctor!" Graham's voice was heard, as the assistant poked his head from under the bed, crawling out... and instantly making sure the gun was obscured as soon as he saw Marcia staring at him. "Uh... hi?" he said uncomfortably, staring up at her.

"Doctor Arcane. Are you aware that your assistant is under that bed?"

"I am now," Arcane said innocently.

"*Why* is he under the bed?"

Arcane had to think for a short moment.

"Lost a contact lens, didn't you, Graham?"

"Oh.. yeah... blind as a bat without it. Contact lens... yes..."

"No, Doctor... I mean why's he under the bed when you're... when both of you are... with your... oh, you know what I mean!" They're mad Every last one of them, stark raving mad!

"Oh never mind. I'm not sure I even want to know anyway. Goodbye, Doctor," Warily, she backed off towards the door, and once outside, made a very swift break for civilisation and her sanity.

"Well, wasn't that fortuitous, my dear," Arcane beamed, stepping back from the assassin and tossing the blood stained bed sheet from his hand. Graham levelled the gun at her. "It seems that now, not only do you have absolutely no chance of killing me without implicating your own fair self, but good old Graham here also seems to have the advantage."

"What are we going to do with her, Sir?" Graham panted heavily, still exhausted himself from the exertion, "it's not exactly going to be easy disposing of her body here."

"Oh I don't think it should come to that. Some of us are more sentimental when it comes to things --" he shot her a look designed to instil guilt. It didn't seem to have any noticeable effect. More to the point, he also wasn't convinced that this, or any other gun, contained enough bullets to adequately finish the woman off "-- besides, I doubt she's interested in our lives anymore after this little episode, are you?" The woman said nothing, merely regarding both of them cautiously. "After all, even if she could manage to dodge bullets and get the gun from you, and kill us both; even her magnificent skills would find it hard to dispose of two bodies. Oh, and considering we'll be missed if we simply disappear, and our beloved manager did get a rather good look at those oh-so-memorable features of yours, my darling, it's really more of a bane to that reputation of yours if you *do* kill us, than if you don't. And, Graham, don't they still use the Gas Chamber in this state?" Graham just shrugged. Arcane turned to the assassin. "So, I suggest we both write this one up to experience and call it quits, love, and come to some arrangement far more beneficial to both of us. I can think of at least one way that's going to preserve your reputation, enhance your financial status, and give me enough of a happy incentive to forgive, if not forget this little incident."

"I'm listening," she said calmly, moving away from Arcane and sitting on the bed. It seemed like a good idea, and Arcane did likewise, seating himself beside the woman. Graham hobbled to a chair that wasn't broken, still keeping the gun trained on her. As an afterthought, he got up, backed off -- his eyes not leaving the pair of them for a second -- and shut the door, before returning. He couldn't help noticing that she didn't seem unduly concerned by either him or the gun.

"So, just how professional is that attitude of yours?" Arcane asked her in businesslike fashion.

"You mean I didn't make that clear?" she smiled back. "You know, Anton. In a mildly disturbing, unusual way, I'm pleased. I did kind of like you. I wasn't lying about that. Woodrue was right about that lucky streak of yours, and you do seemed to have wormed your way out of things without my being responsible and shirking my duty."

"How commendable. Still, that doesn't cover the possibility of your resuming that duty from a different state at a later date, and if this experience should have taught both of us anything, it's that the last thing either of us wants is an enemy of the other."

"Are we enemies, Arcane? I never take my work personally... usually."

"I prefer to think of us as former opponents. What our status becomes in the future, I'd hope to be negotiable. How's this sounding so far?"

"I'm still listening, aren't I? You're still alive..."

"How much was he paying you for my head?"

"What difference does that make?"

"Humour me. It's in your best interests."

"Two hundred thousand dollars for your head, Anton. The rest of you I did for myself as a favour. That came free."

"You really are selling yourself short, for your skills."

"Flat rate job. It was supposed to be over considerably quicker, remember?"

"Even so, I'm still somewhat insulted that I'm only worth two hundred thousand dollars to that charlatan."

"Like I said, you're still alive. I really wouldn't worry about your pride. Now get to the point."

"Has he already paid you?"

"I never work without payment in advance." "Then it would seem you're obligated... unless of course that money were returned. Suppose I paid you two hundred thousand to negate that contract with him? Your choice whether you choose to give that back to Woodrue or keep it for yourself. Oh, and, say another hundred thousand on top of that to cover your, er, damages, both physical and potential to that sterling reputation... and your extra time, of course?"

"A tempting offer, but since you've brought the subject up, all this * could * have a very damaging effect on my reputation should my former employer decide to make things difficult."

"Exactly, which brings me to my next point. I dislike loose ends as much as I'm sure you do, my dear. Now on top of that three hundred thousand, what if I were to somehow find yet another two hundred, since that does seem to be your going rate, and use it to convince you that it should take care of anything untoward that Dr. Woodrue might say in public about your hitherto unblemished reputation."

"True to form, Anton. Never use ten words when two hundred will suffice, eh? Am I to take it you want me to replace your contract with Woodrue's?"

"I think that about sums it up, yes. He's hardly likely to have told anyone of his plans for me so I doubt it'll ever get out, don't you agree?"

"It makes sense."

"And let's face it, the world needs an Anton Arcane. It need a Jason Woodrue like it needs syphilis!"

"It would tend to solve both our problems... and I really can't say I have a moral problem with that."

"Somehow, I didn't think you would. Oh, and one more thing. I don't think I'd ever like the thought of you being hired against me again, which is why that job offer's still open. My paycheques are regular, and they're good."

"Nice thought, but a regular security job is hardly my style."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that. Things tend to get a little, er, unusual, around Houma. I can guarantee the work will be varied and interesting. Still, if you're not interested, I can use a really good assassin on my payroll. There'll be a regular retainer, plus a very generous bonus for any contracts undertaken. I can promise you that you'll be better off financially than you are now." and I'll be able to sleep at nights without worrying who else is hiring you!

"I'll accept the Woodrue contract, and the negation of your own. As to the rest... I'll give it some thought. I'm halfway tempted, you know. Hrnmrn, do I still get to work 'with' you, on occasions?" she gave a dark smile.

"Oh I'm sure that could be arranged."

"I'll contact you with my answer when I'm ready. In the meantime, I told you that I don't work without payment in advance."

"I'd be lying if I said I carried that sort of money around with me in cash. I can give you a cheque, if that's acceptable. If you want cash, it'll have to be after I get back home."

"I don't normally take cheques, but due to the extenuating circumstances, I'll allow it this time. Of course, if it bounces..."

"I think I can guess the distasteful consequences of that. Trust me, it won't bounce."

"Then it's settled. Any preferences for the good Dr. Woodrue's demise?"

Arcane gave it some thought. "Actually, I don't want him killed," he replied, a smile crossing his lips, "... at least not yet."

"This isn't exactly usual. I'm an assassin."

"Think of yourself more as a... Jill of all trades, in this case, my dear. I will have him killed, simply not yet. For what he's done to me this weekend, killing is far too quick and easy... even if done slowly. No, I want him living in fear for a little while before I do it."

"All very admirable, Arcane, but if he's alive after I've finished whatever it is I'm supposed to do, my problem still remains."

"I wouldn't have thought you'd be the type to underestimate your own powers of persuasion. Are you seriously telling me you can't come up with a convincing argument as to why the good Dr. Woodrue would be advised to keep his mouth firmly shut about you? Feel free to use whatever methods of reason and persuasion you desire... short of actually killing him, that is. That'll come later, when I really feel like treating myself."

"True. In retrospect, convincing him against any folly wouldn't be the most difficult task in the world."

"So, it's agreed. Now, all I want you to do is use those powers of persuasion to convince him that sudden death could come at any moment of my choosing... or not, as the case may be; but if he should ever attempt to come after me again, I'll spend the next twenty years killing him... one piece at a time."

"And that's it? That's all you want me to do?"

"Not quite. I want you to give him a good example of what 'one piece at a time' really means. I'm hiring you to get me a DNA sample from the good Doctor."

"Any particular DNA sample, or will anything do?" Arcane gave a vicious grin,

"Let's just say that I fully expect you to take the sample with a blunt and rusty knife... and I don't imagine it'll be a very large sample. Understood?"

She nodded her head, giving a broad smile, "ouch," she said softly.

"Indeed. Well, it's the least I can do after all the hospitality Jason's shown me this weekend," and Geoffrey.

"Do you want it doing here? And when?"

"When and where you do it is completely up to you, but make sure I'm back at my complex in Houma first. You can contact me there afterwards, and we can finalise any other arrangements you require. I presume he did brief you on my details?" She just nodded.

"That works for me," she said calmly, getting up and walking over to her handbag, where she reached inside and removed a pair of black cotton leggings, a silk shirt, and a thin woollen, lemon cardigan, which she began to put on. When finished, she slipped her shoes back on and walked over to Graham, putting her hand out to him.

"I believe that's mine," she said, indicating the gun, still clutched firmly in the assistant's hand. Graham gave Arcane a terrified look, not knowing what to do.

"Wh... what if it's a trick, Sir," he gave the woman a wary glance.

"Don't be ridiculous, Graham. We've already been into this. It's not in her best interests to kill us, is it?"

"What if she's some.. some sort of psycho who'd do it anyway?" Graham had the only useful weapon in the room, and was very loathe to hand it over to someone who'd previously thrown him into a wall twice.

"Graham, is that any way to talk to our latest employee? Now go and write the nice lady a cheque for the appropriate amount."

"Graham, is it? Yes, Woodrue mentioned you, Graham," she smiled, "Well, Graham: Maybe I am 'some sort of psycho'... and then again, maybe I'm not; but you've caused me a lot of problems today, which I'm going to overlook since we're on the same side now... probably; but unless you hand that gun back over to me in the next three seconds, I may choose a career change, because very shortly there'll be an opening for a personal assistant... a rather large and messy opening..."

Graham shoved the gun into her hand without hesitation, before scuttling away to locate the company chequebook.

She watched him go, with a bemused look on her face. "Is he always like this?" she asked Arcane, tearing off a piece of linen to put over wound in her side to stop the blood staining her shirt any further.

" 'Fraid so," he said casually. "Good help is so hard to find, don't you think?"

She gave Graham another look; "What I think is that you're a very lucky man to have him," her tone became serious, but lacking the harshness previously inherent in it. Arcane nodded with a contemplative smile.

"Well, he's not the best of assistants, but he does have his uses and redeeming features. Oh, and yes, I wouldn't be alive now if it weren't for him, would I?" he replied, limping over to the bed where he began getting himself dressed. . .

"That too," she said, allowing herself a small, cryptic grin.

"You'll need sign it, Sir," Graham gave the cheque and a pen to Arcane, who scribbled something hurriedly, before returning to buttoning his shirt up. He then turned to the woman. "You know I still don't know your name." "I could tell you, of course. .." "... I'd rather not consider the rest of that if it's the statement you made earlier... but on a more practical note, if you want me to give you this cheque, I will need it. I'm not used to nameless employees... although it could start a wonderful expense saving trend," he grinned. She gave him an appreciative gesture with her head and proffered her hand to him in a gesture of goodwill, which he accepted.

"Janice Critchlow," she said pleasantly.

Arcane tried his best not to double take.

"What an.. interesting name. It’s so... well, so..."

"... Ordinary?" she finished his sentence for him, withdrawing her hand.

"Ordinary is the last word I'd use to describe you, but I do admit, I was expecting something a little more... exotic?"

"They always do," it was spoken half to herself. "I've heard all the jokes, you know: 'Pussy Galore', 'May Day', 'Mary Goodnight'... They're even halfway amusing for the first forty or fifty times," she looked at him wearily, "I thought we'd established that this isn't a bad James Bond movie. This is real life, and I'm a real person. I simply have the name that my parents gave me. It's not such a hard concept to grasp, is it? Wouldn't you despair of the mental status of parents that went around naming their children with bizarre or exotic names that could leave said child with a stigma for life... Dr. * Arcane*?"

"Well, it's nice to see that you have a healthy sense of humour, Miss Critchlow. That should help you fit right in at Arcane Industries," he replied sardonically, giving her a humourless smile. She beamed back at him cheerfully.

"Woodrue had extensive records on you, you know. I also saw what that middle name of yours was..." she gave him a little wink.

Arcane suddenly developed an acutely embarrassed expression, and the slightest of nervous ticks. If one looked really carefully, perhaps even the beginnings of the tiniest of blushes. "Yes... well, the less said about that, the better, eh?"

"It's not *that* bad... really," she chuckled, "Oh relax, Arcane. I'm very good at discretion when it's sorely needed."

"A much valued prime requisite in all my employees. Well, Graham, you'd best show Miss Critchlow out, hadn't you? She's got work to do." He muttered, filling in the name on the cheque.

"Yes, Doctor," Graham nodded dejectedly. It wasn’t much to ask for, but even a slight acknowledgement of what he'd done might have been nice. All his efforts, and he was still being superseded... by a woman who he'd just saved Doctor Arcane from; and who was insulting him!! He turned and began to slouch away.

"Oh, and Graham?" Arcane's voice called him back.

"Sir?"

"erm... jolly handy you coming back like that. Not to mention your more.. active contributions. Good work, old chap... Thank you."

"It was nothing, Doctor," he muttered, turning a slight shade of red. He left to go to the door, and when his back was turned, the tiny smile on his face became the broadest grin imaginable.

He heard footsteps approaching him, and saw Miss Critchlow on her way out. Opening the door for her, he beckoned her through. Good riddance! When she was passing him though, she stopped and turned to look into his eyes, with none of her previous coldness from before. Perhaps even a lighter look to her.

"No doubt I'll see you around, Graham, and you can stop worrying about the dear Doctor. I'm not going to be coming after either of you."

"Glad to hear it," he muttered.

"Oh, and *your* little secret's also safe with me," she smiled at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Huh?" Graham looked confused. She contemplated his expression, looking even more bemused than before.

"You really don't know, do you? Hmmm, well, you seem a bright enough little fellow; I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually..."

Graham just gave a perplexed shake of the head, looking at her as though she was a can short of a six-pack. "I.. I don't know what you're talking about."

"No, you certainly don't. Graham, would you say I had a beautiful body?"

"That a trick question?"

"No, Graham. Just answer me. Yes or no?"

"Well, yes, of course..." he replied, looking a little shy.

"You're right. I do have a beautiful body. No, more than that, I have a * fantastic * body. I ought to. I spend long enough keeping it that way. Now you've just been in a room with both me and the good Doctor for quite a while, both of us stark naked. I saw the way you looked. Trying to avert your eyes; but you couldn't, could you? They just kept having to stare. And I saw the effect it was having on you. I've a good eye for these little things."

"Yeah, well that's hardly unusual. Like you said, you have a..."

"Yes, Graham," she whispered calmly to him, walking out of the door, "I know what I said... but most men would have been looking at *me*..."

It was a very different, and far more insecure Graham that shuffled back into the room, closing the door behind the woman, who was now far in the distance along the corridor.

"Graham! What the bloody hell are you doing dawdling over there!? We've got a lot to do in a very short space of time!" Arcane's voice shattered his disturbed thoughts.

"Erm. coming, Doctor... that is, I'm all finished. I.. well..." he burbled, almost incoherently.

"What are you babbling about, man?" Arcane shook his head in despair at the assistant, "and for God's sake, Graham, look at me when I'm talking to you! You'll be falling over the furniture -- what's left of it -- if you continue studying the floor like that!"

Graham lifted his head and tried looking at the Doctor, but he still kept trying to avert his eyes, praying his face wasn't as red as he thought it was. "Graham? Are you all right?" There was now an edge of concern to Arcane's voice.

"erm, fine, Sir. Yeah, fine..." he said, looking in every direction but at Arcane himself.

"Well in that case you can start helping me pack the bloody cases. You can also... *Graham*, are you even listening to me?"

"er, sorry, Doctor. What was that you said?" Graham fidgeted nervously. Arcane rolled his eyes in exasperation. Any gratitude he may have been feeling was rapidly being replaced by a combination of bewilderment, concern, and acute irritation.

"Here, let me check. Maybe you took some damage to the head when she threw you against that wall," Arcane seemed to err on the side of concern, moving towards the assistant. "Sit down, Graham, and let me take a look."

"i..it's okay, Sir. My head's fine. erm, probably just shock afterwards," Graham lied.

"I'm still best checking that for myself," Arcane put a hand to the assistant's head.

Instinctively, Graham backed off, again averting his eyes from Arcane. "I.. I'm fine, Sir, really I am. Just, well, just kind of reacting from before. I'm okay... really. My head's just fine."

"That's a first! Well, if you're certain, Graham. I can't see any obvious damage... not that anyone would ever be able to tell with you..."

He saw the sullen, downcast look on the assistant's face; "I'm joking, Graham. Joking? Nothing personal."

"Sorry, Doctor. Guess I'm just kind of embarrassed over earlier... you and that woman like that... sort of..." he mumbled. Well, it wasn't a complete lie, was it?

"Yes, I can see how that could be construed as a tad disconcerting, but allover now, eh, old chap? All fully dressed, and no danger anymore -- at least not from that! In any case, if anyone should be embarrassed, Graham, it should be me, *not* *you*! Graham?? Graham, for the love of God, *look* at me!! It's not as though you had any problems with that before!"

Don't remind me... "Ah! Now I'm beginning to see..." Arcane seemed struck by a sudden insight, and his tone of voice instantly became a little softer and more patient,

"... Graham, there's really no need to be concerned that I'd be angry with you for interrupting earlier. I do realise that I haven't exactly been at my most patient this weekend, but you weren't to know... and in this instance, if you hadn't, I'd be dead by now, wouldn't I? Graham... do you really think me so insensitive as to berate you for taking the initiative and doing a damn fine job, hrnmm?"

Can I take the fifth on that one?

"Come on, old chap. Let's just forget about all this -- hardly likely, I'll admit -- but at least put it to the back of our minds for now."

Yeah, let it stay there with the rest of the neuroses I 'm collecting! Hmmm, I wonder if therapists do emergency call-out?

Graham nodded, forcing himself to look Arcane directly in the eyes.

"Yeah, I'm okay now, Doctor," he tried hard to put some depth into his tone of voice, to sound convincing; and willed himself to give an 'everything's just hunky-dory' smile to the Doctor Arcane gave a concerned grimace and backed off a step or two.

"Yes, well, I have my doubts, but I'll just have to take your word for that, Graham," he eyed the man suspiciously, "In the meantime, we've got a lot to do."

"Yes, Doctor. There's only a couple of hours before your speech, and..."

"Sod the speech, Graham! You can start by helping me pack the cases up... oh, and you can call the airport and have them get my plane ready, and arrange a take off slot with air traffic control," Arcane snarled, wandering over to the mirror to finally survey the damage to himself. Judging by the look on his face, he didn't like what he saw.

"You're not giving your talk, Doctor!?" Graham stared at him incredulously.

"Do I *look* like I'm in any fit state to give a speech, Graham!? The reason I want to pack quickly is because, as soon as the adrenaline levels in my body start dropping, I'm going to bloody collapse!!'

"But, Doctor..."

"Graham, I've no intention of staying in this death trap a minute longer than necessary! Who knows what else Woodrue's got planned on the off chance I'd survive, or Carla... or anybody else for that matter! Probably half a dozen sodding assassins dressed up as Santas or Elvises waiting to pounce on me!"

"What about the prize, Doctor?"

"Well I'm sure Dr. Nakamura's going to be very happy with it, isn't he? I won't pretend I'm happy about losing it to the man, but he is the front runner, and at least I can take solace in the fact that I'll be using his research later... and I still have Vermimorphus, don't I?"

"But..."

"Graham, I don't think I'm making myself perfectly clear here, am I? As I recall, you were trying to persuade me to this very course of action yourself last night. So far, there's been three attempts on my life that I know about. Having that prize awarded to me posthumously wasn't, ideally, what I had in mind. Quite frankly, Graham, *nothing* is worth staying in this hell hole a moment longer... Now. Start. Packing!... Oh, and you can get me a turtleneck out while you're doing that."

"Isn't it a bit warm for a turtleneck, Sir?" Arcane just stared icily at the assistant, "um, yeah, I see your point, Doctor," he mumbled, noticing the multitude of bruises, bites, claw marks and gouges covering the Doctor's neck.

"There's only been three positive things to come from this entire charade of a weekend, Graham: One being Dr. Nakamura's research, two being that we've discovered a traitor in our midst -- although it can hardly be said that this has put me in a good mood -- and most importantly, three, that Miss Critchlow is now on our payroll. Now, assuming that I can get out of this horrid city alive and in one piece, I'm sure we can both sleep safe and cosy in our beds for knowing that little fact."

Did you have to use *that * imagery, Doctor? I'd just about forgotten.

"I'll call the airport, then pack, Sir," Graham headed back for conversational safe territory.

"You do that," Arcane immediately began dragging the cases out. It was a sign of his desperation that he wasn't prepared to let Graham do all the work, not to mention struggling through his broken ribs. However, medical attention would have to wait until he was on the plane and then back in Houma. He didn't trust * anyone * in this rotten city!

"Graham?" Arcane seemed to be looking round for something.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Graham, I'm trying to get things sorted out. Would you kindly tell me where you put all the bloody research and the equipment!?"

"I left it down in the bar with Woodrue," Graham said without thinking.

"You WHAT!?!?!" Arcane's voice rose to an apoplectic shriek.

Graham winced, realising what that sounded like. Well, judging by the new adrenaline levels in the Doctor, he wasn't likely to pass out anytime soon...

"No. No, Sir. i..it's not like that. It's all safe. I had to leave in a hurry... to get back here... to save you and all. I..I couldn't have made it in time carrying it all. It's being looked after. It's *real* safe, honest, Sir."

"You mentioned Woodrue?" Arcane glowered at him.

"Woodrue was there, but I left it with someone *real* trustworthy --" Yeah... a bartender you had some intimate conversation with that you don't even remember! Oh God! Well just don't tell him that...

"-- Woodrue won't get near it, Sir. We can pick it up safely on the way out. I.. I could get it all now, Sir... if you wanted?"

"er, no, Graham. If anything were going to happen to it, it would have happened by now. Just continue to make yourself useful here!" What he really meant was that he was more than nervous to be left on his own at the moment. Of course, he'd be damned if he'd admit that to Graham! "Anyway, Graham, what the hell was Woodrue doing down there with you?" he called back, going into the bathroom to fetch the worm containment chamber.

"He tried to stall me from returning to the room, but he kind of slipped up and boasted about what he'd done, so I just tried to get here as soon as I could."

"You mean you * knew * an assassin was in the room? You didn't just wander back by mere chance?"

"I didn't know exactly what was going on. I just knew he'd done something. He thought it'd be allover by then. Guess he thought wrong, eh, Sir?" Graham smiled.

"Oh yes, indeed, Graham."

"It's kind of ironic, Doctor. I guess if Dr. Woodrue hadn't told me, I'd have come back earlier, but I wouldn't have rushed like... a.and I might have stopped at the shops on the way. I.. I wouldn't have made it back in time." He heard Arcane give a little laugh.

"Well, remind me to call Jason when we get home. I really must thank him for saving my life. One... maybe two seconds later and I would have been dead. If he'd told you just that couple of seconds later..." he gave another chuckle; "I'm sure the knowledge of that will simply make Jason's year. Also rather a nice prelude to what else he has coming to him, don't you think?"

"Yeah, " Graham gave a malicious grin, changing his mind and beginning to shovel clothing and other belongings into cases. The phone calls could be done afterwards. Best get ready to move as soon as possible. As he did so, his mind tried soothing itself by imagining the things that would be done to Jason Woodrue. Graham found himself surprised by the brutality his imagination was capable of, and his capacity to enjoy it.

Through his blissful little fantasy world, he became aware of a dull thud coming from the bathroom.

"Doctor?" he called out. There was no reply. "Doctor!?.. Doctor Arcane!!?" Cautiously, he went over to the bathroom door and looked in, part groaning in dismay, but mostly sighing in relief. I guess the Doctor's adrenaline levels weren't as high as he thought...

As the plane soared into the air and began reaching its cruising altitude, Graham was keeping out of Arcane's way, which wasn't easy on a small, private jet. Graham had seen to all the packing and the arrangements for him, and had only woken the Doctor up when it was time to leave, by which time the man was feeling like death warmed up... and when Anton Arcane felt bad, it was his life's work to make the world feel just as bad with him!

There hadn't been any more obvious assassination attempts, and neither Woodrue nor Carla Jeffries were around when they left, but nonetheless, Graham had insisted on having the aircraft checked for any conceivable devices: both explosive or electronic radar jamming. Arcane was far too gone into alternating self-pitying melancholy and self righteous anger to concern himself with that. It wasn't that anything else bad had happened, but it was inevitable that the events that had already transpired would have this effect on the man at some point. Graham had hoped he would wait until they were back in Houma before he snapped into one of these moods. No such luck. And it was unlikely that there'd be any getting through to him when he was in this state. He'd just have to wait until Arcane pulled himself out of it on his own. He usually did... eventually. These moods could last hours, days or weeks. There was no way of knowing. He didn't know what would be worse: Furious ranting, or moody silence. Silence was more likely. Ranting took more energy, and the Doctor looked too tired for that. Graham just closed his eyes and counted to ten, hoping the Doctor would snap out of it soon. Even without taking his own airsickness into account, it was going to be a long flight otherwise!

He considered trying to remind Arcane of the positive things that had come out of the weekend. Wisely, he decided to keep his mouth shut, knowing that it would only make him bring up the negative... and there were far more instances of those.

"Well, hasn't this been a fun-filled, rollicking good weekend?" Arcane eventually snarled at him, "We really ought to do this every year! You can hire the caterers, all my enemies and their various assassins. All I need to do is turn up and have my entire life buggered! Why don't we hold our little party in the swamp!? That way Holland can have a go at me too!..."

Graham gave a small sigh. Well, at least sarcasm was usually a sign that it wasn't as bad as it could be... at least by his standards. That wasn't saying much.

"It... it could have been worse, Sir?" Graham instantly regretted saying anything, fearing a backlash from Arcane. It didn't come.

"Oh, Graham... what did I ever do to deserve all this?" he whined. Graham closed his eyes again. He was back into the melancholy phase now. "I'm sorry, Graham. It's not your fault, I know. I shouldn't be taking it out on you," Arcane said miserably. "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't even be here... although whether that's a good thing is somewhat dubious."

Graham stared at him, wide-eyed, almost doing a double take. He's being *nice* to me! Good God, it's worse than I thought! His concern for the Doctor rose considerably.

"Graham?" A pathetic little voice called out to him.

"Yes, Sir?" "Do you think it's over? That there's nothing else that could possibly go wrong?"

Graham really didn't want to answer that one, considering they were in a large metal object twenty five thousand feet above the ground.

"I think you'll feel a lot better once we get back home and you can get some rest in a safe place," he said diplomatically, "... and when you're happily back to work," he added, for good measure.

"You're right, of course, Graham. I'm just tired and over-reacting, am I not?"

Yes! "Of course not, Sir. It's been a terrible ordeal for you, but it's over now."

"... because I don't know what I'd do if anything else were to happen. I don't think I can take any more right now, I really don't..."

Don't even think about it, Graham. Don't!

"Graham... get my celphone out will you," Arcane said weakly, looking over to where his jacket was, on the seat beside Graham. With a little hesitation, Graham complied.

"Who are you calling, Sir... if. if you don't mind my asking, that is?"

"Nobody, You can do it. Call the hotel-- the number's in the memory -- and find out who won the prize. Might as well, eh?"

"Is that wis... what you really want to do, Sir? It might bring up bad memories," Graham could see what this would lead to.

"Not really, Graham, but I may as well get all the grim news out of the way in one go. Besides, I'm curious to see whether it was Nakamura or Mgambe. They were the only speeches of any note. Besides, I know I haven't won since I didn't enter, so what difference does it make?"

With an unconvinced shrug, Graham dialled the number.

"Hi..... Yeah, could you put me through to the science conference, please?.....Yeah, I know it'll be over by now, but could you put me through to the chairman of it..... Yes, I'll hold," he turned to Arcane, "He's putting me through to the chairman's room. He'll have the result... if he's there, that is, I guess..... Oh, Hi.. I, er, I hope you don't mind my calling, but I'm Graham, Doctor Anton Arcane's assistant, and..... Yes, yes thank you. The Doctor's feeling a little better now, but he's still not too good. He'll be fine, thanks ..... Yes, it is a real shame he wasn't up to giving his talk, thank you...... Yes..... er, well the Doctor wanted me to ask you if you could tell him who did win the prize...... ah!.... I see...... um, yeah, I'll, er, I'll tell him. Thanks for your help...... Yes, I'll send him your best wishes, thanks. Bye."

With a more than concerned glance at Arcane, Graham put the celphone down and briefly wondered whether to tell Arcane the truth, lie through his teeth and hope the Doctor was in a better mood when he did find out, or simply jump from the plane and save them both a bit of time.

"Well, Graham, who was it?"

"I, er, I think you might want to leave it till you're feeling better, Sir."

"Do I get the feeling I'm not going to like the answer?" came the rhetorical reply.

"Remember what you said about anything else going wrong, Sir?" Graham said nervously.

"Well, I think I can safely take it that it wasn't Nakamura or Mgambe, since I was resigned to one of those."

"Er, yeah, it would be kind of safe to assume that, Sir." He heard Arcane give a deep sigh.

"You can tell me, Graham. It was Woodrue, wasn't it?"

"I'd be kind of lying if I said it wasn't," Graham ventured.

"Morons! Bloody idiots," Arcane muttered, "What kind of committee awards a prize to a posturing charlatan like Woodrue. Nakamura's concepts were infinitely more far-seeing than his! Not to mention mine being light years ahead of all of 'em!" he gave another sigh, "Oh well... why am I not surprised? I doubt anything would surprise me at the moment. It's all just reminded me why I stopped going to this fiasco years ago! Should've stayed away."

Well, that could have been worse. Graham thanked every known deity that Arcane was still in the maudlin phase. Had he been in the indignant ranting one, things could have gone considerably more downhill. Graham searched his brain for any conversational topic that might lighten the Doctor's mood. The words 'cheering up' were a non-starter, but a mild lightening of the doom and gloom may have been possible.

He had to admit, that as far as topics went, there was very little he could think of Work would have been a possibility, but not right now. Too close to this weekend. Festive cheer was right out! Revenge? Yes, that might do the trick: Reminding Arcane of what he had to look forward to, without sounding glib and condescending.

"Doctor? Did you persuade that manager woman to come to Houma?" Oh God! What if he didn't, and I've just reminded him of another failure??

"She'll be coming over to Houma, all right, but I doubt there'll be any little visits to the complex after the impressions she must have got from us... not that it makes any difference under the rather unfortunate circumstances. Just as well, really," Arcane muttered. Graham looked puzzled; not by the impressions bit -- that was fairly self explanatory, he remembered with acute embarrassment -- but the 'not making any difference', or the 'coming to Houma anyway' and 'under the circumstances' bits were a mystery.

"I guess she certainly saw more than any of us bargained for, Sir. It could kind of put her off, since she didn't know us, or what was going on." Probably put her off even more if she *did*! "Probably just as well she isn't, sir, and we won't ever see her again. I guess she'll be telling the anecdotes of this to friends and family for years..."

Graham looked concerned when he saw Arcane suddenly put his head in his hands and stifle a choked sob, and a muffled noise that sounded something like; "Oh God... NO!"

"Are you all right, Doctor?" he asked with concern. Arcane looked up from his hands, glaring at Graham with red-rimmed eyes.

"Fine, Graham. Wonderful. Absolutely bloody marvellous!" He snarled, before folding his arms and going silent again. It didn't take a genius to see that this wasn't meant to be taken literally. Graham decided it was best to drop the subject. If Arcane had anything to say on the matter, he could do that in his own good time, when he was in a more objective mood about things. Anton Arcane in an objective mood about things??.. Well, whatever, he wasn't going to be the one to bring it up again!

"Pass me the hand luggage, Graham. I need to hydrate the worms again," Arcane snapped at him irritably.

Yeah, you do that, Doctor. That'll put you in a better mood. He reached over for one of the carry on bags, opening it, and rummaging around until he found the toiletry box with the secret compartment the worms were stored in for safe keeping from prying, airport eyes. "There you go, Sir," Graham handed him the small container, and immediately, Arcane's expression softened.

"Hello, my babies. Daddy's had a terrible weekend, you know, but we're going home now. Do you want some water for your gel, my darlings?" he cooed, opening the chamber lid delicately, "Make your DNA grow all big and strong --"

Oh God, spare me the 'Days of our Lives' dialogue, Doctor...

"-- OH MY GOD!! OH GOD... NO!!" Arcane gasped, staring inside with a combination look of horror and disbelief.

"Doctor... what's wrong??" Graham practically leapt out of his seat to go to Arcane.

"I.. I don't believe it!!" Arcane said, distraught, more to himself than to Graham.

"What is it, Doctor? Have they grown?.. changed?.." Arcane turned to him with a look of unbridled fury. The adrenaline levels looked to have shot back up again. Graham stepped back a little, part of him needing to go and see what was wrong, part of him not wanting to get anywhere in striking distance of the Doctor at the moment.

"Well take it, you *idiot*!! Have a look for yourself!" Arcane angrily thrust the box at the assistant, lacking any of the previous care he'd taken with it. Graham had to admit... this was not a good sign.

Reluctantly, he took the chamber and peered inside. No, definitely not a good sign. As Doctor Arcane would say, a bloody awful sign, in fact. About as bad as they come.

"Maybe this is what they're meant to go like? They could be kind of dormant?.."

"Graham, you *twit*! They're hard and shrivelled," he picked one out and banged it against the side of the box. A small dent appeared in the box, not the body of the worm. "It's obvious to anybody but the lowest grade moron that they're DEAD! !"

"Maybe... maybe they've just kind of changed a bit. Pupated, Sir?"

"PUPATED!! If they'd pupated, Graham, there'd be a bloody pupa!! They're still in their original segmented form... hard... shrivelled... and DEAD!"

Graham had to admit that however he tried to make it sound to soften the blow, they really did look to have passed on to whatever afterlife precambrian worms went to.

"It'll be fine, Doctor. We've still got the original specimens and DNA back in the lab. You can grow some more when we get home."

"And tell me what would be the bloody point of that!!??" Arcane growled at him.

"Well, to, er.. well to continue with..."

"*Graham*! The whole point of these things was to use the elastic properties of their DNA in conjunction with a mutagen that would boost those capabilities for use in larger, more complex... and profitable life-forms, yes?"

"Yes," Graham replied sheepishly.

"Well, Graham, it's perfectly obvious to me that these worms have had no external change in their environment, yet have suddenly, spontaneously died! Now I think it's also perfectly obvious that the reason for that, since anything external is ruled out, is either that they can't survive beyond a certain maturity in a modem environment -- which would explain why they did die out after billions of years of successful existence -- or that they're totally incompatible with a mutagenic agent. Now it really doesn't matter which of these hypotheses are valid, does it now? If they can't survive, the DNA is incompatible with something present in a post tertiary world. No bloody use to me then, is it!?"

"What if we find out what that is, Doctor?" "For the love of God, man! Are you aware just how many possible things that could be... if it is indeed the case? I'd be collecting my bloody pension before I'd got through testing a fraction of the sodding possibilities! !" "But if it's not, and it's just the mutagen, you could grow more without it?" Graham tried again. "Oh yes, I certainly could. I could grow myself a beautiful little precambrian worm garden to look at every day! What is the bloody point!!? Without the boosting capabilities of that mutagen, their DNA on its own might just give enough adaptability to a species to enable a medium sized hamster to grow a thicker coat of fur within a week... and that's about all. I'm sure General Sunderland and his competitors are going to be thrilled by that! They'll pay millions for that concept, won't they!? I need rapid and substantial adaptation capabilities, Graham; and the DNA of these worms isn't enough in their natural state! If the DNA and the mutagen are incompatible, they're useless. End of story." Arcane's voice was rising rapidly in anger and frustration.

"We.. we could try a different mutagenic agent, Sir?"

"I already did... before I told you about them. This was the only one that they survived more than an hour with!"

"er, maybe we could... er, well..."

"Oh just get the buggers out of my sight, Graham!" he snapped.

"Wha.. what do you want..."

"GET RID OF THEM, MAN! !" "

"er, where do...."

"*AN YWHERE*, you idiot!! Flush 'em down the bloody toilet if you have to, but I want them off this plane and out of my sight! Useless, miserable, failed examples of evolution..."

"... bloodyincompetentdreambustinghorridmiserablesoddingbloody..." Arcane was still muttering to himself, a couple of minutes later when Graham had returned from the ,, bathroom cubicle at the back of the plane.

"erm, they're gone, Sir," he said meekly, wringing his hands as though waiting for further instructions.

"Well what do you want? A standing, bloody ovation!!?" Arcane snapped. Graham just sat down again without saying anything. Yes, staying still and quiet was a good thing. Oh, for happier times... like this weekend, for instance!

"Are they off the plane!?" Arcane turned to him and muttered.

"er, yes, Doctor, they're completely gone. I flushed them away, like you said."

"Good, because, Graham, I don't ever, *ever* want to be reminded of those wretched, life-threatening, humiliating, time-wasting things, ever again! !"

"Ever, Sir?"

"Ever!"

"Timmy, darling, could you hurry it up there?" A not-so-patient, motherly voice called from out from a parked Ford Taurus, "John, I really don't think it was such a good idea stopping out here in the middle of nowhere," she turned to the man beside her, at the wheel of their car.

"Well what the hell was I supposed to do, dear? It's not like there's an abundance of restrooms here in the middle of the Nevada desert!"

"There's no need to be sarcastic."

"And as to being in the middle of nowhere, it was *your* idea to make a detour to this delightful nothing. 'Perfection Valley' indeed. Great name, honey! Maybe we can get them for trade descriptions?"

"It sounded nice... and we needed a break from the driving. I just thought it would be a bit more..."

"... Inhabited?"

"I was going to say, more up-market, dear... TIMMY, will you *please* hurry up! I told you to go before we set off."

"Don't start on at the kid! It's not his fault mommy wanted to take the scenic route from Phoenix to Tahoe! I told you we should have gone left, through Vegas."

"I don't like Vegas."

"Well neither do I, but we didn't have to stop there!"

"I thought Perfection Valley sounded much more select."

"For 'select', read 'dump'. We don't even have any roadkills for company, dear. There isn't enough traffic! !"

"TIMMY!!?"

"Hey, Mom!... Dad!... Come here. I've found something."

"Lemme guess... more sand and rocks?" the father quipped.

"Timmy, we don't have time for this. You know we're already late. Just come on back, honey!" she turned back to the man beside her, "... I told you, the sarcasm wasn't appreciated," she muttered, as an afterthought.

"No, really, you gotta come see... it's cool!" An enthusiastic voice chirped up again.

"Must be the only thing out here that is," the father muttered to himself "Look, Elaine, it'll be quicker if we just go take a look, tell him how good whatever crap he's found is, then get the hell out of here, okay!?"

"Fine!" she snorted, "Let my hair wilt some more in this God forsaken heat, won't you?"

"If you insist, dear!"

They both got out of the car together, instantly having their breaths taken away by the searing, dry heat of the desert. Elaine felt like immediately crawling her way back to the safety of the air conditioning.

"DAD!? MOM!? COME HERE!" The boy gave another shout to them.

"Coming," they both muttered, hurrying to behind a small mound of rock that the boy was behind.

"Well, what is it, Tim?" John asked the boy.

"There, see! What do you think it is? Have you ever seen anything like that before?" John looked to where the boy was pointing. Crouching down, he saw a small, elongated object, which he picked up and held to his eye.

"Some sort of cocoon, I guess," he gave a shrug.

"For God's sake, John. Put that thing down. You don't know where it's been or what germs it's got on it!"

"I wish somebody would have told me that advice before I married you, dear," he whispered to himself, almost inaudibly.

"What was that!?"

"I said it must have been carried here," he smiled coldly up at her.

"It looks real damaged, Dad. You know, kinda more than if it had just split open."

"Yeah, looks like it took quite a pounding." He felt the thing between his fingers, "Christ, it's hard as iron! Must have protected it from attack by something."

"I don't think so, Dad. See, look how it's more flattened in places, rather than, like, clawed or pecked, or somethin'. Kinda like it was dropped. And it's split open from the inside."

"Yeah, like it was dropped from some sort of height. Hell, it's tough enough to survive that, but what was it dropped from? These rock mounds aren't tall enough, and the mountains are miles away."

"Maybe a bird tried to eat it, and couldn't, and just let go?"

"Sounds about right."

"What do you think it is, Dad? I mean, I know it looks like a cocoon, cos there's like, nothing inside it.. like dead bits and guts, or anything, but I've never seen a caterpillar like that. It's like, a bit shrivelled up, but look at the way it's split up into bumps..."

"Yeah, kind of segmented, under the shrivelling..."

"... kinda looks more like some sort of hard grub, not like one of those cocoon things. They're like, smooth and all, 'cept it's split open, like... "

"Oh for pity's sake. You two roast out here! I'm waiting in the car! John, if you're more than 5 minutes, I'm filing for divorce..." she stormed away.

"Is that a threat or a promise, dear?"

"Maybe it's like, some kind of butterfly or something they don't know about yet, and like maybe we've found a new insect? That'd be neat, wouldn't it?"

"I could think of worse things to happen on this vacation."

"Hey, Dad, there's another couple of rock piles over there. Can I just go see if there's any more of these... huh, please! Two minutes. I'll only be two minutes!?"

John glanced back to where the car would be behind the rock mound. It wouldn't please Elaine, that's for sure. "Go right ahead, Son," he grinned. Besides, he was curious. He'd been a teacher for fifteen years now, and he had to admit that he hadn't seen any sort of grub or cocoon that looked like this thing, not to mention that he had a good idea of what the indigenous life of a desert was... and this didn't even come close. He saw Tim running off to another pile of rock outcrops about fifty metres away. Slowly, he began walking after the boy.

"Oh wow!! DAD! Have we hit the motherlode here! Come see this!..." An excited voice called out. As he walked round the first outcrop, his eyes widened and he felt a shiver of excitement. This was something exciting.

"Jesus H. Christ! I don't think I want to see the butterfly that came out of that thing!" he heard himself say, finding himself looking at an undamaged specimen exactly like the previous one, except for the similar splitting open and the emptiness inside. This one was a little different though... by at least a metre in length!

"Oh Wow! Is this cool or what!? What do you think they are, Dad? Hey, this bigger one, it's got less bumps, er, segments than the little thing. It's similar, but kinda different. Hey, I'm having another look round," he began walking round the outcrops, leaving his rather amazed looking father bending down over their find. "DAD! Over here!"

John got up and walked a few metres round the rock to where Tim was.

"I don't think it's a butterfly, Dad," he said, looking at a hole in the earth some eighteen inches across, and of indeterminate depth.

"Okay, so it's some sort of underground creature. It's the same as the other one... I think, only bigger.

"Or maybe it's just the other's mom or dad?"

"Perhaps. Or maybe they grow in stages and continue to form these cocoons till they get to this size? Probably changes a little with each stage of its growth as well. You've learned about periods of dormancy and growth in school, haven't you?"

"Yeah, sure. Hey! Maybe there's an even bigger one than this?"

"Or maybe this isn't the final stage? Tim, this could be an incredible find you've made."

"You think it really becomes like a huge fly or something, kinda at the end?"

"Who knows?.."

"JOHN!! TIMMY! !" An irate voice broke the revelry. "I'M STILL WAITING!! I'M CALLING MY LAWYER, JOHN! !"

"I think we'd best get back, Tim, or we won't live long enough to report a new form of life."

"'Kay," the boy gave a shrug.

"JOHN! !" A shrill voice called out again, as they made their way back.

"Hey, Dad, you feel that?"

"Feel what?"

"Kinda like a tremor under the ground, sort of. It was only *real* slight."

The father shook his head. "Earthquake territory's to the left, in California. Must be the heat playing tricks."

"Prolly. Hey! Maybe it's our mega-caterpillar?" He grinned up at his father.

"Wouldn't surprise me," the man replied good-naturedly. "Still, better get back quickly before Her Highness starts making earthquakes all on her own."

"Wait, Dad. You go on ahead. I'm going back for that big cocoon. We can take it with us... as proof, like? And.. and I'm gonna think up a name for them, like. 'Megapillar'... or, or... 'Gigagrub'?" the boy smiled happily.

"Good idea. Hurry up, though. She's not going to be as appreciative of it as we are."

" 'Kay, Dad," the boy hurried off, back to the outcrop.

"Elaine??" John said in bewilderment, getting back to the car and finding nobody there. The car door was open wide, but Elaine was nowhere to be seen. "Elaine??" A sudden insight occurred to him, and he made for the first, nearer rock outcrop. Probably had to answer a all of nature herself. From the near side of it, he called out her name again. Bitch was probably playing silent deliberately.

No answer.

No other way round it. He set off for the far side of the rock, hoping she wasn't going to get too irate at being interrupted. Still, her fault for not answering...

"Elaine??" he muttered again, reaching the other side... and finding nobody there either.

Christ! She's gone to get Tim, hasn't she? Although a disquieting thought occurred to him that if she had, he'd have seen her coming, wouldn't he? Unless of course she went round this rock, *then* back that way, missing him. He turned and set off for the far outcrop.

"ELAINE! !! THIS ISN'T FUNNY, ELAINE!" He yelled, but there was no reply. Dammit, Elaine, I'm sick of you and your tantrums.

"C'MON, TIM! Let's go get that cocoon and get back to the car. We can wait for mom there," he called to the boy, walking round the outcrop to where the cocoon still lay on the ground. He looked all around him in complete bewilderment.

"ELAINE!!.. ."

There was no reply.

"TIM ??"

The End

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