Later when they were both dressed and heading out the door, she in a pale green yoga outfit with her hair pulled up high and tight and he impeccable as always (though it had nearly been a war to get him to leave his gun behind), she told him what she did for a living. It was hard to explain and she bungled it miserably the entire ride to the training gym.

“You will just have to see…I guess.”
She parked and once he battled the seat belt into releasing him, lead the way into the tall, plain, glass fronted building. There was already a small crowd standing near the glass oohing and ahhing at the tumblers inside. She greeted the security guard and filled out a visitor slip for Ryose. The security guard gave Ryose a lazy once over as she stuck the visitor’s sticker to his jacket lapel.

They passed the front desk and went through a pair of double doors into a massive open gym. All around them people leapt and contorted, flew through the air and balanced plates on their noses.

She took his hand to guide him through the worst of it, waved when called and answered shouted questions with equally loud answers.
She was making a beeline for a pair of doors in the back wall when they were stopped by three small women who could have been Etienne’s sisters. All three were sun bronzed and pretty with dark hair pulled into braids, however, where Etienne’s eyes were blue green they all had shades of chocolate brown. They even wore matching yoga sets. Etienne laughed and hugged each in turn, kissing cheeks and chattering a torrent of high speed French. Finally she stepped back and introduced Ryose as a friend of hers who was visiting for a time.

“And Ryose this is Belle, Ginny and Tamryn. We are teammates.”

French. Was everything in French here? He had started to bow politely to the three women, but they embraced and kissed him like old friends before they called something to Etienne in yet more French and bounced away.

It was confusing. Everything in here was a riot of color and noise, smiling and tumbling confusion and chaos, but at the same time in perfect harmony.

Ryose stood out like a sore thumb, with his straight stiff walk and his monochrome clothing. Everyone here moved with a fluid grace, he observed as she led him through the crowd. It was hard to tell who was a fighter and who a performer. Perhaps it was one and the same.

Was this the work of which she spoke? He was schooled in martial arts, yes, and flexible, but he wasn’t at all certain he could do what some of these people were doing. Ryose nearly stumbled as he watched a girl squeezing into a box that couldn’t have been much larger than a waste bin.

Once through the practive room Etienne guided them into another, smaller chamber where they were assaulted by the smell of fresh croissants that had been turned into melty ham and cheese sandwiches.

This room was a sort of break room that opened into a huge cafe. There were a few people there already helping themselves to coffee and juice and fruit. Etienne reached into a drawer under the over laden tabled and flourished a pack of cigs to Ryose.

“I figured you’d like these,” she grinned… not sure why she hadn’t offered to get him cigs before. “However, you have to smoke outside” she said pointing to a door that was propped open. “I will meet you out there in just a second.”

He nodded at her and headed in the direction she indicated, tapping the box against his thigh as he walked. He stepped out the door, almost humming in his good mood. They weren’t his usual brand, but taking ‘any port in a storm’ had saved his ass more than once. Gifts, in addition, were not to be judged.

She watched him go then turned on her heel and went the other way. Etienne pushed into her bosses office and instantly was hollared at by the huge bald and sweaty man for her absences. He waved a cigar at her and yelled louder when she meekly asked for forgiveness. Finally he calmed down and waved her over for a kiss to the cheeks.

“Jean-Eric, I need a favor….. for a friend.”

In this lifestyle many people had joined the cirque who were hiding or running from something and Jean-Eric was used to granting favors … for a fee. He was rumored to run the best document forging business in this part of the world, a rumor that Etienne currently hoped was true. She told him what she needed then added in a rushed tone, “Oh, and a passport and…. a gun permit…” without looking at him.

Jean-Eric’s eyes narrowed when he named his extremely high price for such an extensive rush job. Etienne’s jaw dropped and she stuttered for a moment.

“But… that’s more than I make in a month!” she protested.

Jean-Eric jabbed his smoldering cigar at her. “Never mind, then?” he asked with one bushy brow raised towards his nonexistent hairline.
Etienne mulled it over then snorted inelegantly. “Fine.” she groused and stormed out of Jean-Eric’s office.

Time turned to smoke. Seconds which had been sleeting past turned thick and ran together like mercury and Mother Goose stepped out from that space between moments where possibility lay tangled with dreams.
Mother Goose smiled coyly at Ryose. In this form she was the Maiden, young and fresh with apples of color in her fair, plump cheeks. She was the virgin of every fable, the untouched bride of every tale. Her eyes, no matter what her form, were the color of winter skies and glowed like superheated steel.

“Ryose,” she said softly then bowed to him.

He bowed to her as she did to him but didn’t take his eyes from her, She knew his name… how did she…

She was cruelty and beauty and he knew her. He knew.

“I know you of old.” She said and paced a tight circle around him. “…and you know me.” She said when she had circled behind him. Mother Goose touched the nape of his neck and he … remembered. A chill ran up his spine as she brushed fingers cold as broken hearts, hot as passion, over his neck. He gasped as Belief flooded his heart and mind. She spoke to him in Japanese, in every language, and he understood. She stopped time and moved between it.

Goddesses born of the minds of men were fodder for tragedy. Goddesses such as she were pale and vengeful, wicked and cruel. They were bad mothers and vindictive seductresses. Goddesses born of the minds of men are vacant and chaste. Forever in pain and alone while forced atone for past sins and bitter to the core for it. They were virgin huntresses and cackling crones; gate keepers and baby snatchers, death dealing mystics who danced naked and wild.

Mother Goose was all these things and something so much more real, for she was born from the minds of those who knew to believe and who knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she believed in them.

“I have a request of you,” she stated simply. Mother Goose’s voice was soft and tempered with sinister ideals. “Etienne has served me well…in fact, the force of her belief is a burden. Champion her, killer of men, and stay by her side. There are things ahead that will seek to destroy you both… and I cannot abide the loss of one such as she.”

A request, she said, but…

“To protect Etienne?” That was no request at all, he thought, “Be it in my power I will do this gladly.” He intoned reverently, “But…” He hesitated then, thinking of the ease at which Etienne had taken down the doctor, the strength with which she’d struck him during her imprisonment with him, and how easily and casually Amir had bullied her. “She is stronger than me, Lady, and those that threaten her stronger still.” He bowed his head slightly, meaning no disrespect, “Though I will be her Champion, I fear my protection may be woefully insufficient.”

Mother Goose finished circling him “So modest. Do not forget I know you of old, beloved. All stories are mine, Ryose, especially yours.” She tilted her head and light flashed off her eyes like the glint of an intelligent blade. “Your names are still whispered in legend like a totem.” She smiled and it was the shy smile of a girl’s first compliment. “Were you a god I would be jealous.”

Ryose blinked. A legend? Him? He’d been a prodigy in his time, but that was a long while ago, he’d fallen out of favor. But for a goddess to treat him so, perhaps there was some merit in what she said after all. He was a legend, perhaps, if only because she said it was so.

“You honor me too greatly, Lady” He said and bowed again, deeply, “The girl is my ward then, and so long as I draw breath no harm will come to her.”

Mother Gooses grin was quixotic. “Good,” she said …. time went liquid and streamed together again.

The other smokers glanced curiously at Ryose for he had seemed to blur for a moment and was now looking wildly around.

She led the way up the steps and unlocked the door. For a harsh second Etienne regretted every moment of coming back home. That is, until she actually stepped into her house then it all didn’t seem so bad. She dumped the bags in the living room then came back to lock the door after Ryose.

“Now…shower,” she said but tempered it with a smile. “I will …roam around the house missing your face and or trying on your clothing.”

She was a strange girl.

Ryose shook his head but went upstairs anyway. The shower was not hard to find. It was different from what he’d become accustomed to but he’d used American showers before, so it wasn’t entirely strange.

The hot water sluiced over his skin. It felt like ages since he’d had a chance to do this.

After a moment of luxuriating in the heat he turned to look for soaps. There was nothing he found familiar so he picked up the first bottle, confirmed it was some sort of soap, and set to scrubbing himself top to bottom. When thin lines of pink started trailing through the water, he knew it was time to get out. The shoulder wound had had all the hot water it was going to take and opened up slightly. He sighed. It would have been nice to soak as well.

He toweled off and stepped out of the shower. He’d neglected to bring in any of the clean clothes so he donned the stained pants then hung the holster, un-clipped, over his shoulders and draped the towel around his neck before coming down the stairs.

Etienne had spent the time folding up and putting away Ryose’s clothing. Jerrod had helped pick out quite a few stunning pieces. The majority were cashmere and silks, linens and wool. She put it all away then stood in the room biting her lower lip.

Etienne suddenly groaned… she’d just put away his clothing. Etienne shook her head and face palmed. He’s going to think she’s some overactive mommy figure. She moved as if to undo her work when she heard him coming down the stairs. Etienne turned guiltily towards him as he entered the room. You know, she thought to herself, he’s really pretty. Lean as a whip and studded with scars she thought he was possibly the prettiest man she’d seen in a long while.

Etienne shook herself and cleared her throat. “So…” she said casting around. “What happened to your hand? You had … fingers. Well of course you had fingers… but you had more than you have now. Granted, less than me but more than…. You know… don’t answer that… it was rude,” she said, trying to keep the rising tide of her embarrassment from drowning them both. “Once you change I will re bandage your shoulder.”

She was blushing again, and babbling. It was… cute. He smiled at her with hooded eyes as she hurried out. The clothes were tucked away in various parts of the room and he settled on a pair of slim slacks and a black button up shirt. He opened the door once the pants were on, but he didn’t want to mar the new shirt with his blood. “Etienne?” He called, peering out with the shirt and holster slung over his good shoulder.

“Eh…” she grinned when she bounced back into the room, “nice slacks, huh?” She showed him the bandages in her hands as she looked at the wound critically. Motioning to the bed she asked him to sit. The wound was trickling a thin stream of blood. Upon further investigation she saw that the wound was quite a bit worse than she originally thought it was. She looked at the bandages in her hands again and frowned. He should go and get this looked at. Get stitches or something. Etienne found herself thinking of the licked battery taste of him. How his blood, on her tongue, was outrageously electric.

Etienne sighed softly and, without asking, leaned in and blew on the wound before dragging her tongue along the tattered edges. She braced one hand on his other shoulder and one on the bed. She was ready for the oh so sharp burn of him but her toes curled at just how good he tasted.

Shamelessly, Etienne took her time. Her eyes were half closed like a cat savoring cream. She lapped at the wound, feeling it heal in gradual layers and then, when it finally closed, at his warm skin. When finished she shivered all over and had to swallow hard before she stepped away and gave him an embarrassed grin as she wiped her mouth.

“So….” she nodded at him, embarrassed by how much she had enjoyed healing him, she cleared her throat and turned on her heel to leave.

This time Ryose didn’t stop the arm that snaked out almost on its own. He wrapped his hand around her wrist and in one motion turned her back around, cupped her face with his free hand and pulled her in for a chaste kiss. There was no glowing light this time, no ‘fire works’ (which he now realized was gunfire), except in his mind, perhaps. He released her as quickly as he had grabbed her. His tongue flicked over his lips. She tasted like his blood. Ryose hid a small grin. She could make a man want to get shot.

“Thank you.” He intoned carefully as Etienne put distance between them. She stopped when she backed into the door frame which she apologized to before tripping over her own feet.

Finally, she forced herself to stop bumbling around and started nervously fixing her clothing. She focused on her hands as she adjusted her shirt’s hem.

“It not real… what you are feeling. It just the curse of the Voice it’s…” she looked up at him with an expression both pained and deeply yearning. “It cuts both ways. But it’s not real.” Etienne took a deep hitching breath. “I am sorry,” she rasped, swallowing tears.

“No,” He said standing but keeping his distance from her, he didn’t want to offend her again, “I am sorry.” He ducked his head and looked up at her, holding his hands palm-out. “Please, do not cry. I will not do it again.”

He didn’t want to make that promise, he wanted her, he realized now. Maybe it wasn’t ‘real’ in the way she viewed ‘real’ emotion, but it was the most anyone had ever cared about him that he could remember, and that made it real enough for him.

He couldn’t even feel sorry he’d mistakenly kidnapped her anymore, since it had led him here. “Do not cry,” He repeated.

Don’t cry? She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. Don’t cry. After a moment she looked back at him and smiled. Keep busy, keep busy, keep busy, her mantra for when things in her life got a little too sticky. “I have… some… thing that needs doing…over somewhere else.” She said backing the rest of the way out of the room. She went still though and watched him standing there. He was beautiful, half naked and… “Merde.” She muttered. “Such a bad idea…”

Any minute now the spell would break and realize that he’d been duped and he would… he’d shoot her dead. Any minute now she would have to kill him in self-defense… In full knowledge of this she marched as resolute as fate towards him.

Any minute now… using her body to crowd him back she forced him to sitting on the bed then clambered into his lap. She tangled her hands in his domino hair and kissed him with every ounce of loneliness, frustration and need in her body.

Any moment now… she curled her body into his and ate at his mouth. Any minute now… and it wouldn’t matter anymore.

Soon Jerrod had Ryose outfitted with a months’ worth of clothing and clothing related accessories. Etienne had enjoyed watching Ryose pick and choose over the details, Jerrod though was a pro at this and made quite a few unerring and charming suggestions for Ryose’s new wardrobe.

Jerrod was in the process of ringing the items up when the bell over the door tinkled.

“We are clo-” Jer’s eyes grew round when he caught sight of the huge black haired man who strolled into the shop. The man had afforded Jerrod a single nod when his eye had fallen on Etienne. He gave a soft chortle then smiled. A smile that was as slow and vicious as the man himself.

Etienne had looked up from her slow stroll of Jerrod’s shop when the bell over the door tinkled. Upon seeing the man smiling at her she froze. “Hello a…Amir.” she stuttered. Etienne stepped back, further into the shop, as if she was thinking of darting into the racks of clothing to hide.

“Oh, why hello, little carrion dog!” Amir growled. He closed the distance between them in a few monstrous strides and reached out to pull on Etienne’s braid forcing her to her toes. “You survived your bath, huh?” He chuckled as he fitted his hand in her hair and pulled her close. “How about another dunk?”

Etienne glanced at Ryose warning him with her eyes. Stay back. “No, thank you, Amir once is enough.”

Ryose started to take a step forward, but stopped at her glance. She knew more about this world than he did, right now. Was this typical? Was this how men treated their women now? His eyes flicked back and forth between Etienne and the strange, huge man who radiated malice. His fists clenched at his side and death in his gaze. He longed to pull the pistol from under his arm, but worried that it could tip this encounter in the wrong direction. He had the strange and sudden feeling that he was totally out of his depth.

Amir stroked Etienne’s braid. “Aw, so polite. I didn’t think you’d survive being thrown off the bridge. Maybe we should try something different? How about seeing if smart mouth bitches can survive being tossed in front of trains?” He chuckled and started to drag her out of the shop.

The bell over the door tinkled again and a woman, achingly beautiful, stepped in. “Put the hyena down, Amir. We have work to do. Though I feel I must share this tip with you: if you keep trying to kill her and she’ll never fuck you.”

Amir shrugged at Bronte as if that wasn’t so bad and patted Etienne on the top of her head. “Be a good girl!” He crooned at her then turned to Jerrod. “We need the package.” Jerrod nodded rapidly and without even daring glance at Etienne darted to the back.

Bronte checked herself in a mirror mounted at an angle between the wall and ceiling. Tall and curvy, she sported a golden mane of locks. Her eyes were the same unsettling shade of gold as her hair. She pouted at herself and adjusted her shirt.

Amir, on the other hand was swarthy and dark, save for his eyes, they were the brilliant green of cats eyes. When Amir shoved Etienne away it seemed like even his muscles had muscles. Amir eyed Ryose, sneering at the tall thin man.

“What are you staring at?” He snarled. Etienne cursed softly to herself as she darted over and pulled their bags off the counter.

“He’s not staring, Amir, he’s a coworker of mine… probably just admiring your rippling muscles.”

Amir grinned and rippled the muscles in question. “They ARE badass…” he admitted, flexing the muscles in question.”Get your circus freak out of here, carrion dog. We have business.” Etienne nodded and grabbed Ryose’s arm as she walked quickly to the door.

Bronte glanced at Ryose as they approached and smiled slowly, her gleaming gold eyes began to light up with something close to hunger. Etienne changed her grip on his arm and shoved him out the door before Bronte could try to lure him away.

“Car! Get in it!” she very nearly shouted.

Ryose obeyed because it seemed the wise thing to do, though every part of him wanted to hurt Amir for treating Etienne like that. He’d spoken of killing her like it was sport. Ryose had killed out of necessity or for money but never simply for fun.

He managed to clip the belt on only his third try this time, slamming it home with a growl. He turned and looked out the window for a long time before asking,

“Is this how men treat their women now?” He paused “They were… like you?” He remembered the cat’s eyes in the man’s face. Amir. That name was burned into his mind now. The honor-less scum.

Starting the car and pulling calmly away from the curb kept Etienne from exploding in fear. “No it is not and yes they are.” She took a deep breath. “I insulted Amir when he tried to woo me. He is brutal and cruel to women, especially ones he thinks he can get away with hurting. When I refused him he threw me off the bridge. I… am without a clan or pack so… I am easy pickings for those who are stronger than I am.”

She shrugged as though the truth of it didn’t hurt. “I refuse to shift more than once a month… I don’t kill. These things make me seem weaker in their eyes. The doctor… I… I haven’t killed in a long, long time. I wouldn’t have killed him, but…” She shrugged and was quiet for a very long time, finally, as they pulled into her drive she said softly, “I also like the company of humans though sometimes it turns out bad.

“Humans don’t really… appreciate the fact that lycanthropes are different than them in more ways than just able to shift shapes. Lycans behave different, react and believe different. Hell, we’re nothing like humans on any level.”

She shrugged and got out of the car. “Yet here I stand, with yet another human tied to me.” She muttered after she closed the door. When Ryose stepped out of the car she gave him a lemon slice smile. Wide, bright and more than a little bitter.

Etienne focused hard on the road before them, the headlights of her little car peirced the darkness that threatened to swallow them. She flicked a glance ar Ryose, but he wasn’t paying attention to her. He seemed distracted by the buttons on the dash. Etienne looked back at the road. She’d kissed him and yes there had been some very interesting heat there but he was like a live wire snaking across blacktop …both dangerous and mesmerizing.

She couldn’t lie. She was scared. Of the man beside her who was poking at the buttons of the door, locking and unlocking the car like a toddler gone wild. Scared of him and scared of the implications of what she’d done. Etienne shuddered. Killing one man and forcing another through time? There was going to be hell of karma to pay for this debacle. However, she was home now and home meant safe….kind of. There was still the whole issue with that maniac Amir to deal with.

Ryose took a moment to calm down before he started poking at the door and the pale glowing buttons there. If he hadn’t been so nervous and fascinated he may have tried to ease her mind, let her know he no longer meant her any harm, but he was too interested in the window’s ability to move up and down on its own, and the other button that made all the doors go ‘click’, though what purpose that served he didn’t know. He muttered the appropriate responses when she paused her endless chatter and most of the time his replies were even in English.

Finally, they parked in front of a sweet little shop in the middle of a deserted downtown. Outside the well-lit facade stood a man with vivid orange and blue hair and sparkling black leg warmers.

“About damn time!” He barked when Etienne stepped out of the car. “Why I ever let your French ass convince me to- oh, hello!” He purred when Ryose stepped out of Etienne’s car. (Etienne had had to unlock the doors for him twice before he figured out how to pop the latch.) “I am Jerrod.” He said offering his hand to the tall Japanese man.

Etienne laughed and came to stand beside Ryose, she debated putting an possessive arm around him buy hesitated. Humans, she’d found, took signs of possession the wrong way nearly every time.

However, for the first time, watching Jerrod flirt with someone was getting under her skin. Before she could second guess herself she slid her arm around Ryose’s narrow hips. She told herself that if she didn’t lay claim to Ryose then Jerrod would just hound him… she didn’t know if she believed herself, though.

Jerrod pouted at Etienne but gave Ryose a coy smile, anyway. “And your name, delectable?”

Ryose frowned at the man, Jerrod. He was about to say something when Etienne came and wrapped her arm around his hips. Whatever had been on his mind it died on his tongue as her hand settled against his side. His stomach made a little flip as he looked down at her, she fit so well there. He swallowed.

“Ryose.” His voice came out thick and he cleared his throat, flicking dark eyes at the man before returning his gaze to Etienne, “Shi Ryose.”

Etienne glanced up at Ryose, wondering about the catch in his voice, as Jerrod made a curt little noise in the back of his throat.

“Ugh, love. Humans, Etienne…you’re not supposed to fall for them.” Jerrod shuddered theatrically. “Blech! Anyhow… Let’s go see what I have for sale, kids!”

He clapped his hands at them before leading the way into the shop. Etienne backed away from Ryose, coloring pink under her tan. She swallowed and cleared her throat before saying, “Oh, that….oh, that Jerrod. What a …card!” She cleared her throat again and lowered her head before marching ahead of Ryose and into the shop.

Jerrod moved unerringly through the darkness, flipping on lights as he went. Etienne held the door for Ryose but didn’t look up at him. Jerrod was a were leopard but he was also her friend. That was the only reason he didn’t challenge her for Ryose, she knew. She was a lone lycanthrope in a hostile city, therefore it was rare for her to stake a claim to anything. She just didn’t have anyone to back her up if it were to come to a fight. Friend or not, Jerrod or any of her other lycanthrope associates would be hard pressed to back her against a challenger.

It was a sobering thought. Etienne wet her lips and shut the door behind Ryose. Why hadn’t she thought this through fully?

The shop was a virtual playground of mens high fashion with more than its fair share of classics thrown in. There was everything Ryose could ever want from suits and trenches to casual clothing to watches and hats. Etienne waved Ryose towards Jerrod who was pulling out a few dress shirts. “Fun. Have it.” She barked face still red.

Ryose looked back at Etienne as he moved towards Jerrod. He was more than certain he could handle this peacock of a man if it came down to it, but this was an uncertain world for him right now and she was his touch stone.

Wait. Was she blushing?

He approached Jerrod, who already had several shirts in hand. At least shopping seemed to have changed little.

Jerrod gave Ryose a toothy grin. “Oh, how I love dressing a beautiful man!” Jerrod wasn’t phased by the rent and bloody clothing, it came with the territory.

It was the gun that threw him.

He reached his hand out as she turned but stopped just short of touching her. To steady her…if she fell, that’s what he told himself.

Not to stop her or ask her to stay with him.

He pulled his had away and clutched it at his side as she walked up the stairs. There was a twinge deep in his stomach. Relieved he may be but the prospect of this new world frightened him. How much had things changed?

He sat on the bed and looked out the window for a long time. It didn’t seem so different from here, he thought, Wind moving the garden to and fro. Every now and then a car would zip by. He started the first few times it happened, but they were not dangerous, just different and fast. He faced the idea of a new world with a mixture of excitement and fear as he stripped his pants off and slid into bed.

Etienne flumped, fully clothed, on to the bed and was snoring before her eyes were fully closed. Hours later a rumbling belly awoke her and she grudgingly got out of bed. The clock told her it was 11 pm. Almost 12 hours had passed?

She stretched, debated a shower but instead went downstairs to cook. She wasn’t the best at cooking but she did it with enthusiasm…and in huge quantities. She made piles of pancakes and bacon and eggs. Ground fresh coffee and brewed it on the stove. No sound from Ryose though, so while she restrained herself from checking on him she couldn’t restrain herself from banging pots around just a little louder than usual.

Ryose groaned and rolled over, but the infernal banging continued. He was about to roll over again, this time with a pillow over his head when the smell of bacon crept into his senses.

He was starving.

He rolled flat on his back and pressed his palms to his eyes. His shoulder ached and trembled, feeling hot and tight in the way that only new, deep wounds do. He pressed his other hand to it tightly. The sharp sting chased the ache away briefly, but it returned. Groaning again the tall man rolled out of bed, donned the bloody pants and stumbled out of the room. He paused to glance into the kitchen where he saw Etienne making what appeared to be enough food to feed a medium sized gathering.

He felt a stab of apprehension. Were there more like her? Were they coming here? Before he could fully panic his body reminded him that he had more pressing concerns right this moment and he made a detour into the bathroom.

That taken care of, he sidled through the living room and leaned his right shoulder against the door frame that lead between it and the kitchen.

“Good evening.” He intoned, giving her a small, polite nod.

She looked up at him and grinned a tiny bit of guilt spiking her, he looked so ragged and worn… and out of his comfort zone. She should have banged the pots and pans less

“Good evening” she replied. “Hungry?” She motioned to the little 2 seater table. “Eat all you can!” 

He nodded and thanked her, taking a modest amount of each food item and pouring himself a coffee. The food was passable, even good but his attention wasn’t on it. He was watching her as she plopped into the chair across from him and started piling her plate with food. He dropped a piece of pancake on his pants and it called his attention back to the stains.

Truthfully, he was going to need more clothes but before that, he was going to need money. Which meant he needed a job. He felt another tightness of apprehension. He really only had one marketable skill.

“Etienne.” He said, trying to keep his voice neutral, “How may I find work in this time?”

Etienne paused, in sharp contrast to Ryose, Etienne was very focused on her food…she hadn’t eaten in what felt like forever. “Mmm…” she looked him over and nodded slowly as she wagged a bacon strip at him. “S’going to be hard… remember the stock market crash of the 30s? Yea… we are at that point.”

She sighed and finished her coffee. “You need clothing.” She licked her fingers and eyed the wall clock. “Not too late….” she looked at him again. Yeah, she knew where he could get a job. Long lean body like that? That serious morose expression? But she doubted that he’d like to become a rich woman … or man’s plaything.

But he could kill… that much was a given. There was always work for those who specialized in wet work.

Etienne wolfed down the rest of her bacon then hopped up and bounded to the wall phone. After a brief conversation with ended in “….you owe me this just open the shop, man” she turned back to him. “Give me a min to shower and….change clothes and we can go.”

He nodded. He should bathe as well, but he got the feeling there was only one bathing room. He finished his dinner, breakfast… whatever at a leisurely pace while she showered then found his way back to the downstairs bathroom. He filled the sink with warm water and used a washcloth and soap to wipe the remnants of blood from his flesh before dunking his head into the water and washing his hair as best he could. He pulled it back and looked at himself in the mirror, turning his head side to side. He was probably going to have to dye his hair, still. If there was any chance that the name Shi Ryose still haunted the lips of the organization in Chicago… his pied hair made him too identifiable. Ryose swiped at his hair then sighed.

He was in the kitchen donning his shirt and coat when Etienne trotted down the stairs moments later clean and dry. She bounded into the kitchen and stopped short when she saw him. He popped another strip of bacon in his mouth and chewed it as he buttoned up and started to strap on the holster.

“Did… you bathe in the sink?” She asked then chuckled. “Okay, this time we will let it slide but next time… you can use the shower… and I promise not to try to drown you… at this time.” She eyed his clothing “You look like a gangster.” She said softly before hiding her discomfort by laughing.

“I am- I was a gangster.” He muttered, feeling a little self-conscious after her noticing his less than stellar hygiene. He was usually very fastidious and it irked him not to be able to be so.

She quickly went around the kitchen dumping left overs and dropping dishes in the sink. A quick table wipe and dish rinse and she was ready to go. The whole time she babbled telling him about cell phones, space travel and HBO; finally she took her spare car keys off the hook by the stairs that led to the garage and motioned him to follow. Etienne babbled because she was nervous. She didn’t know how she felt about him. He was as scary as he was before… but his drifting remoteness was unnerving.

She had one of the cars he’d seen, sleek and shining and he ran. It looked like it was built for the single purpose of racing them to their death. Ryose trailed his fingers along the curving lines of the auto with his long pale fingers before getting in.

The safety mechanism that served the purpose of strapping him to the seat seemed simple enough but it gave him trouble and in the end he had to curse it quite thoroughly before it would work for him. She pulled out of the drive and other than the near silence of the engine he could imagine that he was in one of his own cars, save for the plethora of nobs, buttons and lights on the console. Once they were on their way Ryose realized that it was nearly impossible to tell one was moving so quick when not looking out the windows of the sleek little auto.

He was white knuckled, holding onto the arm-rest and the door side. His hand slipped and the window started to open on its own and he jumped, palm finding its way to his pistol on instinct. Etienne jumped as well, noting how his hand went instantly to his…shit, he still had his gun! Etienne chewed her lower lip savagely and for the remainder of the drive obeyed every traffic law she knew to the letter.