The taxi is kinda stinky, but its nothing Cas can't handle - heck, its a
cab, and that's a lot more than she's used to springing for. She can't
help but notice that her "readies" are running low, though, what with
dinner and now this imperial transport...

Cas slides into the corner of the cab, trying to avoid the cateye of
the cabbie. She takes out her 'wad' and checks through it, careful to
keep it out of sight of the driver.

'Fuck. Since when do I spend money like that? That fucking waiter
ripped me off.' She counts out whats left... $100, $150, $170
$190, $210, and some change and spare bills in her pocket. 'Shit.'

'I cant believe I spent that much. What the fuck was I thinking?'
Cas takes 3 $20's from the wad and stuffs the rest of the money back
into the secret pocket in her jeans.

The cabbie pulls up and leers round into the back seat. "$34.80"
Cas flips out two $20's and waits for the change. 'No tip for you
arsehole.'

Its chill when the cab leaves her. A slicing wind blows in off of the
lake, not that many blocks from where they were to meet. Its a clear night
as well, no clouds threatening late autumn rains, but also nothing to keep
the warmth in your bones. A pale, almost greenish moon competes with the
almost lurid pinkish glow of the street lights, creating surreal
highlights.

Cas quickly realises that the leather pants keep the cold out, but the
midriff teeshirt maybe want the best choice. 'Still, clubbing, its all
about gettin' sweaty and lookin' good at the meat market. And ya gotta
suffer for ya art, right?'

Cas pulls Purple's jacket closed over the midriff tee and smiles,
remembering being shoved out into the cold with Hope. 'That
happened. Thats the same, I think, even if Im Sarah. Either way, it shows
Im strong, right?'

Feeling more energised, Cas brakes into a job and heads to her
destination.

'So, what am I gunna do about Purple? What does he want? He's
obviously Jonesing for me. Geee, maybe he just wants to get to
know me.' Cas laughs. 'Yeah, right.'

Cas' brain starts working, and her body kicks into a run.

Cas doesn't have to look around. He's just standing there, on the opposite
corner, of course. From this range he looks both casual and alert - coiled
spring and lazy afternoon all at the same time. He's got another of those
black jackets, but this one is tailored a little looser; you can tell he
could dance in what he's wearing, really dance. In fact, Cas would swear
he's changed all of his clothes, even though he's kept the black with
purple tie theme. But its all a bit different. Just a bit more casual. His
shoes. That's what clinches it. He has those shiny nathan blacktops at
dinner, the sort that let them look up your skirt. Now they are almost
sneakers. Almost, but not quite. Casual, but not an after-thought. This
guy thinks about it all.

'Ya know, he's kinda hot. I mean Michael's got this warm, dopey, kinda
teddybear look goin' for him, but this guy is kinda sharp. Maybe not
the settle down with kind, but hot enough to screw.' Something in Cas'
mind adds 'Maybe' and the image that he's the kind that goes black and
blue if you screw up.

He's just standing there, but he's looking around. He doesn't even check
his watch once. He's waiting, but he's not worked up about it. You can
tell by the way he holds his shoulders that he's not going anywhere. There
is confidence there. Confidence that Cas will show, and confidence in
himself. He's calm, but ready.

His eyes are scanning around, and he's going to spot her soon enough. But
she has a moment or two to decide how that goes - where she is, and what
she's showing...

Cas slows into a quieter jog, unbuttons the jacket and shoulders it open,
so the local tourist attractions are out for all to see. She walks out
into into his field of vision.

"Hey, Purple. Hows it hangin'?" Cas' eyebrow wiggles invitingly.

He zeros in on her the instant she starts to talk, making eye contact and
brightening with a smile across his face. Not too dopey, though, but
genuine. There is a zing in his eyes, a sparkle. She can *tell* he is
jazzed that she showed.

"Wow! You look great! I have to be the luckiest guy this side of San
Francisco tonight!" His eyes take her all in, and she can tell he likes
what he sees, but its not all about her assets - he's looking at all of
her.

Cas put her hands up, gesturing him off, and sets a firm tone of voice:

"Look, I know you wanna go out dancin', and dont get me wrong, Im up
for it, infact Im fuckin' jonesin' for it, but I gotta put some
bidness on the table first, right, so just let me say what I gotta say
and get it out the way and then we can go do whatever, right?"

"First off I gotta say that I really dig your job. If it were just
me, Id be in like Flynn. I love the one warning then smackdown idea,
thats just hot. Plus you obviously got the respect thing workin' for
ya and I dig that."

"I dont think the guys, err, fuckknuckles see it though. There all too
absorbed in their own crap to notice a good thing when it's infront of
them. Id ditch 'em in a second," Cas blinks realising suddenly that she
cant, ".. err, because, um, but.. someone said were kinda a group or
something." She quietly adds, "I think, I kinda wasnt listening." Then,
louder, "Anyway, our loss, right."

"If you say so," he says, with a smile in his voice. He's still got the
sparkle in his eye, but he's listening to what Cas is saying. He seems to
actually be waiting to hear what she has to say.

Cas kinda shrugs. 'Funny, I thought he'd be more cut about it. I mean
he tried to get us in, didnt he? Weird.'

So she keeps on going:

"Anyway, youve been real cool and I dig that, but I gotta tell you
some stuff thats really our problem, but it's on my mind."

"Shoot." He moves them out of the wind, against the building on the
corner.

He guides her against the building, and for a moment, Cas flashes back
to making out with some anonymous guy against a building wall, kind a
like this (only more grotty). She cant quite remember if it was some
lump of meat she flung at a dance club or one of Sarah's clients...

Something jossles in Cas' mind, but she keeps going, staying
focused so that she can get it all out in one coherent piece:

"You know the other chick, Lindsey, the one who *twitch* wasnt at the
dinner? Someone grabber her. For some fucked up reasonthe others have
taken the night off, which is just fucked up. Anyway, it's fucked up
and if theres anything you could do to help, Id be.." Cas thrusts her
chest out, "miiiiight greatful. If you didnt wanna get your hands
dirty, Campbell suggested that you smacked him down one, so you probably
know how to find Carlos, right?"

Cas puts on a sultry look. "And I know how the game works, and Im not
expectin' it for free. Im willin' to 'pay' you back." Cas moves closer
to him, and reaches out to touch his arm, but somehow she isnt sure that
that is the right vibe to give off here.

He's calm and firm. His arm pulls her over towards him.
Cas tenses a little, but she's smiling. This is familiar. Comforting.
seems he's going to cop a feel or go for the action, he pulls her jacket
(well *his* technically) over her shoulders.

Cas looks down to check she's still attractive. 'Ya know, may be he
does dig guys. I mean he looks way good in that suit.'

"You're going to get cold while we're talking, if you don't get something
between you and the wind. Let's talk about this."

"Hey, I like the cold." She tosses her hair over her shoulder,
Charlies Angel style. "It makes me feel alive. Reminds me Im strong."

"I bet it does, at that."

He's got a more serious look, now, as though he's taking her seriously,
but the sparkle is still there. She's pretty sure he's hot for her, but he
seems to be setting that aside for the instant. Something about the whole

Cas is a little confused, part of her wants to go with it and get
wild with this guy, but another part of her doesnt want to let go and
knows that something (work?) needs to be done. The whole situation makes
her a bit fluttery, so she starts talking again:

"Anyway, I feel like a complete prick tease for gettin' you juiced for
night on the floor and then droppin' this heavy crap on you, but Im
tryin' this new 'be honest' with people thing."

"And I got no clue on anything else to do to fix it myself, so if
you cant help or wont, then dancin' is still like number 2 on my list.
A really high number two actually."

"So, your call Purp."

"Purp?"

She shrugs and reaches out and grabs his tie.

"Yeah, y'know - the tie and all? Purple..."

His smile beams out at her, and he chuckles earnestly.

She smiles back and chuckles. 'Nice to meet someone who likes a joke.'

"That's a new one!" He takes a breath, and she's sure for a moment she can
see through his confidence to where he's a bit shakey. But in the blink of
an eye its gone, and he starts up: "I'm trying for the whole 'honesty'
thing as well, this time... My name is Scott. I'd rather you kept it to
yourself, as the no-name thing works well in this line of business. But
you can use it, if you want."

"Scott huh? If it makes you feel any better, I would have thought you
were a Wolfgang or somethin', so the Cred is intact. Look, Im gunna
stick with Purple, Ok? Id hate to fuck up and tell everyone you're
Scott Pointdexter or somethin' and ruin the cool rep you got here. Ya
secret's safe with me, P."

He smiles and then focuses again on her eyes, and looks at her seriously.
He has seriously nice eyes, actually. Sharp and clear, and focused. On her.

"Carlos. As it happens, I talked with him this evening. He helped me out,
and I told him about your missing friend. I wasn't sure exactly how you
fit with him, but I figured that he might be able to help, given his
position here, and experience."

"He was a bit more upset about it than I'd expected, actually," he says,
giving Cas a look that tells her what he suspects that she already knows
about the closeness between Carlos and Lindsay, "but we talked about it
for a while. I talked him out of doing anything 'dumb'."

"I dunno jack about him really. We're all fuckheads and we dont tell
each other shit. Carlos was Lindsey's friend, and we sharing about as
much as kids with cool toys. It doesnt make any sense really, we
should be pooling our resources." 'Where the fuck did that come from?
'Pool our resources', man I sound like one of Ren's Poindexter
friends.' "Yeah, so we're kinda fucked now that she's gone and we
wanna contact him."

There is something very final about the way he says 'dumb'. There is a lot
of meaning there. A lot of water under a lot of bridges. But there is a
flatness about it too, as though it is "just part of the territory" or
something. She's pretty sure he's seen a lot of 'dumb', and had to put a
lot of it down with two in the back of the skull. Or one, as he seems
pretty super-spy, when you come down to it...

'He's so cool.'

"I told him that I'd be able to get a message to you people tonight, so he
gave me his contact number, and asked that you give him a call in the
morning. He's going to see what he can find out tonight, putting his 'ear
to the pavement,' if you know what I mean." He seems to actually think
that Cas might know what he means, too, but she senses she's missing
something. But he seems to assume she's up with it all, and continues
right on: "I have to be away tomorrow, but I'll introduce you to some guys
tonight who will know how to contact me if you and Carlos run into
something that you cant' deal with together. I imagine that all together
you're quite something to behold." And he seems to mean it, even though he
has a smile on his lips.

Scott hands over a slip of paper, on it is:

   Midwest Yellow Cabs - 555-5555
   Ask for Carlos, they are expecting "John or Cindy" to call,
   and have been told they are out of town relatives who need
   to hook up with me ASAP. They'll get a message to me, and I'll
   call back.

"Neat. You rock, Purp. You're a fuckin' life saver." Cas bounces on
her toes a little, feeling like she's make a contact for the group, or
at least kept him intested after everyone else was such dickheads at
their last meeting.

"Now, if that's not enough, I'm willing for us to take it to the street
tonight, you and me. We can see what we can find out in the next few
hours, and maybe get lucky. But I think Carlos would prefer a chance to
look on his own for a bit. And I know I'd love to leave this all behind
for a few hours with you. But its your call. This is your night - you
choose how we play it out... Action-Jackson, or Hammer-Time?"

He's got a big smile as he says it, but she can see the core of
seriousness in his eyes, behind the sparkle. He's waiting for her to
choose.

"Ah, shit." Cas bites her lip. It's decision time. "If Lindsey is
gettin' the `Home Handyman DIY,  pliers and wire,  beginners torture
treatment` then Im so gunna feel like a shit in the morning. But then
I cant do jack without someone doin' mojo to find her and the rest of
the guys, err, losers piked on me. I guess thats kinda Carlos' area and
I'm sure he'd call us if he needed it. Im pretty sure he's got my
mobile number."

"Fuck it, lets party."

Cas tries to put Lindsey out of her mind, but cant help but cant shake
the image of a dark room and Robs smile.

"Shit. No. Wait."

Cas stamps her foot, cursing herself. She thinks 'Why the fuck do I get
involved with fucking losers.', trying to convince herself that she
doesnt care.

"Look, I'm just muscle right. I ain't got no way to find her or
anything. I can't summon zombies to do my bidding or Zoltan hound of
Dracula to go find her. If she's in trouble I wanna do something, but
Im pretty much useless at it without my gang, and they've all decided
to ignore it 'till the fucking morning. If you can just point me at the
fuckers who have her then Im off to kick some head, but Im not gunna
roam the streets hoping that we find her. If you got a magic wand you
can use to find her, then point me the right way. If you aint got
nothing to do right now then I guess I owe you a big thank you
for chatting to Taxi for us, so lets go clubbing."

Cas nods her head. Shes tried. She got the group to try and do the
magic and she went out to find Carlos. Admittedly, it seems like it
was all in hand, thanks to Purple, but she knows that she's d one a fuck
of a lot more than anyone else.

"Tracking people down, uh, 'mystically' is not my schtick. I've got eyes
and ears, but I work like a private dick as much as anything else. If I
was able to help more directly I would have offered over dinner," there is
something in his eyes that says 'of course', as though such help would
have been the only thing he would have thought about doing in that
situation.

"So, if we went looking it would just be the two of us on the Triumph
Spirit ST cruising the streets and asking questions. I don't know how much
we could expect to find, as I don't really know who to talk to in this
town, but I'm willing to put in the time, if it's what you have to do."

"What's a Triumph Spirit ST? Some ride or something? Has it got leather
seats? 'Cause theyre really hot and it feels wicked bent against ya skin."

"'Cycle. You'll love her, I'm sure. There's bound to be time for a spin on
it at some point tonight. I mean, I have to drive you home to your
'family', don't I?" The smile is palpable.

"DONT!" Cas pulls sharply away, suddenly 'furr up' and angry, "Dont
call them that, OK?" Spotting her sudden change reflected in Purp's
face, Cas tries to calm down, but the flash of anger is has faded just
as quickly as it came. "Sorry. It's just, err, complex and weird and
wicked fucked up."

Cas pulls the jacket around her tightly. "Sorry I snapped, OK?"

"My bad... Anyway," he says, turning back to the choice ahead of them, "Chigger
and Dallas should be able to do some leg work for us after I catch up with them
tonight, and I was going to introduce them to you anyway. Plus we have Carlos out
there in the Midnight Taxi, and he really does 'have his finger on the pulse of
the town'." He smiles a knowing and sharing smile with Cas, once again seemingly
sharing some in joke with her that she's not really in on.

"So I say we hit the clubs. I know I could use the workout, and if its not
tonight, I won't be able to get back into town until Friday... That's a
long time to wait!"

"How do you think I feel? Ive been stuck with those guys since last
Wednesday." Cas stamps her foot. "Theyre so fuuuuuuuucking boring."
She slips her arm around him. "You on the other hand....." And reaches
over and plays with his tie. "So, where you gunna take me, Sugar
Daddy." She bits her lip, blinks and smiles wickedly. "'Cause its a
school night."

"OK, let's start up here," he says, gesturing north up Wabash towards the
city, "there's a good 'early' place up a half-block, unless you want to
focus on drinks alone?" He looks Cas in the eye for a moment, "Nope, I
think you need to dance, and I'm rarely wrong about this sort of thing!"

He winks and chuckles, and starts them up the street.

"Hey punk!" Cas starts, "You ditched on me and I had to pay the fucking
bill at Mario-Land earlier! Do know how much that place cost? I'm so
getting paid back in full, preferably in Screaming Orgasms," She turns
gives him her best hungry animal look, "but since it's going to take more
than tonight to pay off that debt, let's start with the dancin'!" She
smiles a big, predetory smile at him.

"Huh? I was expecting Mister-Doctor Money would be handling the bill.

How'd you get stuck with it? That place is way over-priced - I never go
there unless the other people are paying. I'll tell you right now that my
salary sucks ass, girl! But what I got is yours tonight!"

"Ren freaked about lindsey and ran out of the place. I had to pay up,
or I figured the waiter 'd call the cops or somethin'. He was a bee's
dick away from throwin' me out anyway."

He laughs out loud at the image. "The doctor runs screaming from the
place, leaving all the misfits north of Deerbourne to pick up the tab -
slick as pickles!"

"Yeah, thats sounds about right. Hey, promise me we wont go back there again?"

"I can imagine that the promise of you paying sure got their attention at
Juliano's! I wish I'd been able to stay to see that!" His laugh has a
clear and open ring too it; there is nothing forcing him, nothing put on.

He gives Cas a solid squeeze. It is strong, but not too strong. The
insignificant instant is incredibly close - the gesture contains an
unmistakable seed of affection, all the more notable for its casual nature.

Cas playfully pushes him away. "Way to go, tellin' me about the shitty
salary, loser." She shakes her head, teasing. "That reeeealy ups your cred.
Hey how about you keep that under your tie, Poindexter."

There are a few dozen kids freezing in a line along the sidewalk, leading
up to a redish doorway with a hulking guard on it. At first it seems that
they are going to go past, as they don't get into line, but as they reach
the door Scott cocks his thumb, and says "Here, this is it."

As they walk over, the door-beast checks them out for a moment before his
face shows recognition and he smiles at Scott. He opens the door,
unleashing a tantalizing whisp of thumping bass, and waves them in.

Inside the stairs only go up. Most of the places Cas has been in are below
ground level, but not this one. Red lights and signs that point up to "Red
Heaven", lead the way up two floors and out into a tangled mass of writhing flesh.

The place is huge. There must be two or three hundred people in here. Red
lights dominate, but a scatter of other colors, including lasers, explode
out in all directions, pulsing with the beat. The music isn't immediately
familar, but it has a driving insistence that pulls incessantly. And it is
loud. Really loud. Really really loud. Cas can't hear anything but the
music - its all around her, inside and out.

Cas just stares, open mouthed. Wow. How many people are in this place?
I wonder if the DJ knows DJS. I wonder if I know anyone here. Ah,
shit, thats Cas isnt it, not Sarah. Damn.

"Anubis' fuckin' dog collar! This place is huuuge. Dude, you could
spray an Uzi in here and they wouldnt hear a fuckin' thing!" Cas pulls
the jacket open and pushes her palm against her lower chest. "I can
feel it. I can FEEL IT!. Shit! Thats LOUD!"

Cas realizes that she can scarcely hear herself, and there is no way that
Purple could possibly make out her words. But his eyes reveal that he gets
the gist of it, and he's jazzed that she's excited. He
seems to know what he's doing, and gestures out into the sea of
flesh. His shoulders already palpatating to the rhythms...

Cas starts swaying to the beat. She stands where she is for about 5
seconds and then grabs Purple's arm and drags him out onto the dance
floor.

Her head is bouncing to the beat as she flips through dance styles...
screw style! I really need to just let it all go and lose myself in
wild and free.... Time for the slow sexy grind against Purp later.

Time and sound quickly become a soupy blur. The pulsing, the moving
bodies, the attention she can feel radiating from her Man With The Purple
Tie... It all sort of smears together, sending shooting spears of warmth
from her toes clear through the top of her skull. She can hardly tell
whether her eyes are open, or whether she's standing, and none of it
really matters anyway. Just the music. The moment. Alive.

Fly..................

....

It's like waking up, or pushing your way to the surface of a pool, only
she knows she's been awake all the time, just in another place where the
world seemed less important.

She's wet, from head to toe. Not drenched, but deliciously spinkled with
drops of chill. And there's a jovial laugh. Its not a laugh at her, its a
delighted laugh with her. That'd be because she's laughing as well.

"What was *that* for?" He keeps laughing, "I thought you wanted to drink
it!" She can see his smile now, and its sooo bright and warm, like a
lighthouse on a stormy night. But the storm is excellent too, whiping up
her hair and tossing her around like a doll; a storm of music and people -
a glorious, perfect storm.

Cas smiles a wild, animal smile. She's not entirely sure she can talk yet,
but she will be able to soon, when her body gives itself over to her
again. Instead she tosses her hair, raining her sweat and bottled water
over him.

"God, that's great!" he says, upending his half-empty bottle over his own
head, sending glistening snakes of water shooting down his jacket, "That's
great!" he repeats. She can read the signs of pleased exhaustion in his
movements. He actually kept up with her! Cool!

She grabs his arm and drags him away. They are over to one side of the
massive floor, near the chrome and crimson bar. While the floor still
calls to her, the monster has drunk its fill now, and now its her turn.

They hit a wall. She spins him, and pins his shoulders. She devours his
mouth, only pausing to gasp for air.

....

The air is crisp and sweet, and it sends shivers up her spine. The streets
are empty, but in a vague and distant way. There is a moon looking down,
and a slight breeze, and a wonderful emptiness around them as they walk -
alone in a city of millions. Her ears are still buzzing, and her heart is
still pounding out the beat of the dance floor.

Their talk is good-naturedly competitive.

"You are so not going to be able to keep up with my drinks, girl! I'll
have to pace you out with Shirley Temples!"

"You do and I'll take an arm off before I toss you out the window, Mr
super-fly-spy-guy - we go one for one until you cry, then I get two for
each of the glasses of water you need to sober up!"

"Uh huh. Suuuuuurre.... Hey, this is it!"

'It' turns out to be little more than an unmarked door. But Scott turns
the handle and pushes it in to reveal a humming hive of human activity.

The music and voices are loud here, but the buzzing in her ears is still
louder.

"This is known as 'The Ox Cave'. I have no idea why," he chuckles, "I
usually meet Chigger and Dallas here, 'cause the beer's free after 1, and
poor Chig works a student's wage. Let's see if we can find them."

"Fuck that! You owe me a couple of gallons of booze, and you're first
payment is well over-due, salary-man!" She shines her teeth at him and
makes for the bar. These places all work the same, right?

"A pair of Screaming O's, and a ginger beer for my elderly friend, thanks!
He's paying!" The guy behind the bar starts to work, casting his eyes back
to check her out several times.

"I said I was pretty tired, not that I couldn't have gone back out on the
floor!" his face wrinkles in mock indignation, "Make that a Future Slammer!"

They each have a few drinks behind them when they are far enough into the
joint to spot Scott's friends, who immediately make a bee line for him.
The first is a bear of a man - he's not huge, but he has that sort of
fuzzy size about him, and a warm smile. He looks like someone's woodsy
uncle, or something.

The other guy is, in a word, dog-ugly (or is that two words) - he's thin
and gangly, and looks instantly nervous when he notices that she's, well,
a she.

The bear speaks up: "This is Chigger, the ugliest sonofabitch I know, but
damn good at whatever the hell it is he can do," the guy has this sort
of huggable warm-sweater sort of good-nature about him, while the scrawny
kid squirms under their collective gaze, "and I'm Dallas, at least that's
what Captain Midnite here calls me!" He sticks out his right hand in
greeting, and uses his left hand to push the kid forward at the same
time,

"glad t'meet ya!"

Cas shakes his hand. "Im Cas and Im fucking great at everything that I
do." She laughs. "So, Dallas, just so we dont get confused, he", Cas
tilts her head towards Purple, "is Purple to me." Cas grabs his tie.
"See. Purrrrrple." She turns and grins catlike, but also a slightly
giddy with the drink and the dancing, but mostly with the sudden
influx of fun and freedom that the night has brought so far.

"Captin Midnite - the man of many names! Purple works for me, if that's
what the lady wants," he smiles and booms back.

"So, Im guessin' that you." She points to Chigger, "Do all the
crappy work and" she points to Dallas "you do the leanin'? Or do I
have your whole free beer powered organisation wrong?" She sniggers.

Purple points over to some chairs and a couch: "Let's get out of the way
for a few - there seem to be a lot of people around tonight." He's right,
there are a lot of loud, kinda geeky, middle-aged men around, and one pod
are making their way in your direction even as he speaks. Somthing's
poking at Cas's brain, but she's having too much fin to pay attention.

"I'm so not sitting down!" she says, shaking her torso and fliting from
one side of Purple to another, "you do whatever you have to, old man!" She
does the whole 'drawing the man' thing, leading him over to his chairs,
only to find there's someone just behind her - spinning around its the
ulgy kid, and he's dancing up a storm.

"I'll, uh..." he blurts, "... I mean, if you want..."

Indecision and insecurity stop him dead in his tracks. Thing is, he was
doing great.

"You keep doing what you were doing, and I won't bite, 'K?" She tugs him
into motion again, and his face cracks an ugly, open, grin. "Man, you are
dog-ugly!".

His smile broadens, "Yeah, I know! Some of the creeps actually
think I'm some kinda summoned creature! But whatever gets you in the door,
huh?" He seems to have warmed to her quite quickly.

Cas leans up real close and whispers in his ear. "All the *really* ugly
people Ive ever met were 'drop ya pants' lickable on the outside,
but on the inside, thats where they were shit ugly and really fuckin' evil."
"I aint made up my mind about ya yet." She pulls back with the
Charlies Angel hair swirl. "Although, the dancin' puts a gold star on
ya report card."

"I go to UIA - I'm doing economics and politics. Where do you go," he
stumbles for a moment, "... uh, if you're at college..."

Cas snorts.

"Leave her alone, Chig," the big guy chides, good-naturedly, "just
dance, kid - that's what you do best."

Purple speaks up, from his chair (he's the only one sitting): "Dallas runs
a mail-order ammo store, and Chig's working behind the counter at Allan's
Book Barn, over on Michigan Ave. They both keep their ears to the ground
for me, and let me know when something's up. Plus most nights they do a
circut or two of places where odd stuff gets talked about. Chig's magic
with this sort of stuff - everyone talks to him. We only hang out with
Dallas because he's got mighty mico-brewery skills and he fix our TV
remotes," he smiles broadly.

Dallas chuckles. "You ever want to go Bass fishing, I'm your man! I'm
pretty good with Captain, uh, Purple's ride, too... when he brings it to
me in good condition!" he glances over at the smiling Purple, who's
watching Cas dance with a delicious smile on his face and sparkles in his
eye, "but if you are packin', I can set you up with some great prices, and
good quality stuff; its all wholesale for friends of Midnite, uh, Purple."

"... and there are so many of those, right?" Purple chuckles.

Cas has been paying at least as much attention to the kid's dancing as the
bear's chatting; he's really good on his feet, and moves effortlessly
through old-school hip-hop moves to any number of styles. In fact, he may
be the smoothest dancer she's seen.

Cas nods in appreciation.

"Don't have a gat now, but if I do, I'll make you a shopping list,
'uncle D'," she flashes him a feline smile. "'Course Im looking to load
up Thunder 5 by choice."

"That's primo stuff. Bit over-powered for my tastes, but I can sure get
you some 410s for that, if that's what you want. Personaly, I prefer
something a bit less awkward, like a Sig Sauer or something. I'd take
accuracy over stopping-power every time, 'cause every load that misses is
doing nothing at all..."

Purple breaks Dallas' monologue with a well-placed "Would you two cut it
out!" and a big smile. "I'm trying to show the lady a good time!"

"You know you guys know you sound like something out of a lame A-Team TV
show? All 'Chet here fires flares while the rest of us work on the
tank, and we all go shoot up bad guys togther before swilling beer
out back...'"

Purple laughs his head off, spurting his drink out in a stream. Dallas
just chuckles and looks a little embarassed. Its not clear that Chig even
knows what's going on.

"You guys are so not cool!" she crows.

"You haven't seen the 'cycle!", Purple enthuses, "come on!" He grabs her
by the forearm and pulls her towards one of the rear doors. The other two
trail behind, following the laughing.

The door opens out into an alley, complete with half-empty trash cans and
cardboard boxes.

"If you want to get into my pants you don't have take me into a deserted
alley, ya know! I'm not afraid of a little publicity!" She purrs, "but
perhaps you need your two friends to help you out?"

"They're here for your protection, babe. Chig knows First Aid, which we'll
need when you collapse... and to revive you after you see ... her!" He
tosses aside a simple cardboard-box baffle to reveal a gleaming black
'cycle - a real open-road speed machine. While its lines are new, and it
gleams in even the small amount of moonlight filtering into the alley, she
can tell immediately it has been worked hard and constantly.

"I thought you didn't make much?" all trace of the joking gone, she
circles the ride, checking it out, "there is no way this was cheap -
give."

"A lot of people want to do you favors when you don't blow their brains
out in the night, even if that wasn't your intent. This one guy imports
quality 'cycles, and was kind enough to offer me a steep discount on the
upgrade." He seems proud that Cas can appreciate his prized possession.

"You job seems cooler and cooler, P."

"And boy was it not too soon for the Yamaha his was driving back then,"
offers Dallas, from his perch leaning against the wall, "she was two tight
hairpins from falling apart under him - he drives them hard, does Captain
Midnite. I told him to get a Ducati or something, but now I think the
Triumph was the right choice - thing must be made of steel the way it
handles his punishment."

Purple ignores the comment and talks to Cas: "Its got a Water cooled
12-Valve double-overhead-cam in-line 3 cylinder, 955cc, fuel injection,
and a six-speed wet multi-plate clutch. Drives like a dream..." He's
watching her like a hawk as he talks.

"Listen to you, trying to butter me up! I just want to know
where we're goin', and how many laws you gonna break to impress me?"

"For starters, let's head up to a place on the near north..."

"You don't want to do that, Cap," chimes in Chigger, "there's been some
kinda power failure - blacked out blocks and blocks north of the Golden
Mile. There are utility vans out there working their butts off to get it
fixed, but I reckon they'll be there for hours."

"OK, I got some other ideas... Hey, I got some work for you two, if you're
not too busy downing cheap beers..."

He starts to chat to them about Lindsay and her disappearance,
while Cas pours over the bike.

She looks up when she realizes that they are talking to her: "What?" she
says, standing up and taking a step back from the bike, just in case
the problem is that he's all precious about it.

"You guys met with some New Inquisition jokers yesterday afternoon, right?
You wanna describe 'em quick, to give these two a place to start?"

"Oh, they need hints? You're blowing all respect I had," she bounces over,
hanging herself on the shoulder of a now-nervous Chigger. He has no idea
what to do with his arm, and keeps figgiting with with.

"There was this one man-mountain, guy - said he was from Japan or
something. Looked like a fighter. And a pretty-boy that Lindsay said could
'splode heads or summin. The main guy was some Mad Doktor like Renee, only
not French. And with even less sense of humour. There was another guy too,
but he was almost as scrawny as Chigger here," she says as she gooses the
kid, who jumps a yard or two away. She purrs at him, as he smiles uneasily
back and whines "Don't!"

Looking back at the others, though, she can see something's up.

"What? Don't touch the merchandise? You know I'm not paying whatever your
asking for him - too scrawny by half." But the joke seems to fall flat.

Its Chigger himself who speaks: "You just described part of the Snipers.
One of the Inquisition's top exterminator squads. That throws this all in
a different light."

"Why didn't you mention this over dinner?" Purple looks confused, rather
than annoyed, and then muses: "Why were you talking to them? Measuring up
for coffins?"

"Hey, they didn't seem that tough. I mean I figure I coulda taken them
alone, if I'd had to, although the others would have made it messier -
only the cop even knows how to fight, and the Doc manages to get hit when
we're just walking up stairs and shit. Fuckduster! Anyway, chill! You
figure they nabbed Lindsay? Where do they hang out, let's bust in and take
'em!"

Purple's smiling, but he's a long way from the wild abandon of a few
minutes before: "Its not that easy."

"We don't know where they hole up, particularly," says Dallas, "but it
should make it a lot easier to track down what's happening. Have they been
dogging you for long?"

"'Fuck do I know? We've had people shooting at us and threatening us and
shit all week. Them? Bikers? How do I know?"

"You might not know," offers Chigger, "they're supposed to be pretty good
at what they do. I wonder if we can find anyone who knows what they've
been up to this week. Even if they don't where Lindsay is, it might give
us an indication whether they have been on 'em all week, or this was just
a one-off 'hello'." He pauses a moment, obviously putting stuff together.

"Don't bust nothin' - you got steam coming outta your ears there, junior!"
Cas snipes.

"I was just... I mean. Well, its been a strange week, is all. No one is
where they are supposed to be, and the Inquisition has been a mess. What
if they're in damage control over something." He looks up at the others.

"Question is, what would cause that much concern to them? You guys didn't
assassinate their spiritual leader or something?" asks Dallas.

"They talked to None when she was in town. Or she talked too them," Purple
offers, "I really wish I'd been in town to have some words with her."

"Whatever! So, can you guys find Lindsay, or what?"

"It'll take 'em a few hours, at best, to see what's on the street about
this all. You got a phone, Cas? I'll get these bozo's to let you know when
they find anything, 'K?"

"Sure, but they better not tie up my line with deep breathing, 'cause I'm
popular these days." She pulls her phone out of a pocket, "give me a
number so I can contact them." She tosses it to Purple.

"You using one of these Noxia 1290s?" Dallas comments, "if I were you, I'd
ditch it for a Ling To; their a small brand outta Korea. The interface is
only half English, half pixel-paint asian, but they are pretty well-made,
and they have this dumbass SimCard format that most people don't know, so
its a bit safer if someone grabs your phone. There's an electronics place
on the near South - Hector and Bo's - has a good price on them. Tell 'em I
sent ya and they'll probably throw in a leather cover or some shit."

"Might give you a call on that D. Some of my buddies need to be
wired."

"She doesn't care, Dallas," says Purple, "only you care about that shit."
He smiles his big smile and the sparkles dance in his eyes again, then
turns back to copy numbers from phone to phone. "There. Now, let's ride."

"Oooh, rev it again." Cas slides up against him. "I gotta get me
one of these. Then I'd be able to swear off men forever."

They are going at least 20 mph when they reach the end of the short alley
and shoot out blindly onto the street. Purple seems not to care at all
that there could have been a truck coming. The bike leans over and with
barely a squeal it is heading out along the street with ever increasing
velocity.

The wind passes through her - it is so cold, so fresh - not over her.
Lights blur past, almost as chaotic as the ones on the dancefloor. Beneath
her, the comfortable purr of the engine increases steadily in volume, only
to drop back and start to rise again. She finds herself holding her breath
for each repitition.

Their speed is exhilarating, blinding.

"Whooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooohooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!"

Somehow they are already on the Freeway and blazing along building-high
snakes of concrete like a modern-day X-Wing.

The rush, the miles, eat up the time, until, with almost no warning, she
realizes they are rushing headlong towards a large dark void - Lake
Michigan itself. Just before screaming off into the cold jet of the water,
the engine ceases its upward whine, the bike spins, and the come to a
squealing halt. She can reach her hands out over the edge of the land into
open air.

Cas sits on the bike, shivering with cold and excitement. Breathing
hard, almost panting.

Purple is breathing hard. "I gotta do that more often!" he says as he
climbs off, bouncing on the balls of his feet, "all of this - the speed,
the music, the dancing," he turns to Cas, his eyes practically afire, "and
you! Good god!"

He seems overwhelmed by something, and words tumble out over each other:
"You are so strong, so goddamn sexy, so alive!" he grabs her shoulders,
"you're *alive*! I saw you die, and you are alive!" he crushes her to his
chest. She's not sure, but there seem to be tears running down his face,
and he's laughing into the night, a clear, ecstatic laugh of pure joy.

Cas leaps up and scizzors her legs around his hips, she snakes her
hands around his neck and hungrily kisses him, the energy from the
dancing and the driving overwhelmimg her again.

She snakes an arm around behind his neck and thrusts her hand down
into her pants, pulling out a condom. "Less *kiss* thinking
*kiss* talking." The conversation centers of her brain are drowned out
by more primal urges. "More do."

She breaks her leg hold and
takes a half step back, colliding solidly with the frame of the bike. She
can feel its warmth behind her, and his warmth in front of her. They are a
tanlge of limbs and libidos.

Purple's trying to say something when he takes gasps of air: "... outside
... cold ... Cas!" She's got her hands under his shirt and down into the
back of his pants. His are all over her. And nothing matters anymore, to
either of them. Nothing but the animal.

....

The cycle speeds along Lake Shore Drive, the lake keeping pace with them
on the left as the buildings flash past on the right. Tthen a turn and
buildings and trees blur closer on both sides into a comfortable
street-lit yellow-orange mush.

They don't stop for lights; they don't even slow down. Instead they fly, a
lonely bullet, through the empty streets, leaving only an engine whine in
their wake.

There is a warmth deep down inside her stomach, and it feels as though she
hasn't eaten for years. Her skin reaches out in all directions, drinking
in every sensation.

And suddenly its over. Somehow the world has stopped flashing past, and
the bike is only idling gently.

He hasn't turned around when he starts to speak: "You're really something.
You're..." he turns so he can look her, "You're not just muscle, Cas.
You're not just a piece of ass..."

Before it is obvious he doesn't know what to say next, Cas offers a
throaty reply: "Yes I am, lover. Don't let it go to your head."

He lowers his eyes for a moment, and says, firmly, "I'll be back on Friday
sometime, and I'll be sure you know about it. Chigger and Dallas know how
to contact me, but I don't have a phone with me, so I can't give you a
number or anything. But I'll call."

"Sure you will," she purrs, "and I'll be sitting waiting for the phone to
ring." She swings herself off the bike. "Really nice ride, Purple," she
intones in a silky low voice, and pastes him with a deep kiss.

"I've got to get to that meeting." He turns and revs the bike, "you..."

"Don't hit a tree," she laughs, "get outta here!" And she heads to the
door. The bike has cleared the end of the block before she turns to stand,
watching until its lights fade from view entirely.

The clock next to the bed reads 4:53 am as she collapses into the bed's
embrace. Across the room she dimly hears Renee snore once and turn himself
over.

And then it is all too much. It hits her - a stone cold, mind-numbing
lonliness that tears its way up from deep inside her chest. She feels all
strength leave her body, and she shudders from shoulders to knees. She's
unable to stop the wrenching sobs, and each one summons up three or four
more, until she is consumed by them entirely, crying out her soul into the
pillow.

The void of sleep and exhaustion take her, and for a time she's encircled
by the warm, strong arms of her mother, who rocks her slowly and gently,
making everything fine again. Her dreams are soft and peaceful, and the
only trace they leave is a general sense of safety and well-being.