Blank Slate (Dane Stalling & Malicious Lullaby)

Standing in front of the mirror, sliding on the black bob over her bright red locks that were currently encased in a wig cap, Penny Davitt watched the girl she knew slip away under a disguise of black hair, blue eyes and heavier make up than she was actually comfortable with; that and a rather revealing cater-waiter uniform. All the cater-waiters were female; her boss acquired this position for her because her job was simple. Steal data then insert a virus. That was all she was given.

Pulling on the lapels of her cropped blazer, Penny scrutinized herself in the mirror. Underneath the blazer was a white blouse that had a few buttons undone to draw the eye and it was tucked into high waist black shorts with which she wore stockings underneath. Yes, she was going to be freezing her mythical balls off but the pervert throwing this New Year’s shindig was very adamant about female cater-waiters, wearing something scanty and serving champagne, appetizers and special requests on silver platters while the high ranking guests get sloshed and start speaking of something belligerent here and there. It was New Year’s. Anything could happen. But that was what made the entire thing perfect for her. People would be too busy and too sloshed to notice a cater-waiter up to something very suspicious.

Glancing at the watch on her hand told her it was time to go. Gathering all that she needed and something sharp to break off the heel to her ankle boots for her quick escape, Penny left and drove to the address she was given. Her jaw dropped upon arrival. It was a big mansion, beautifully lit still with Christmas and New Year’s lights and colors a litter of cars around in the large and personal parking lot. It was an hour before the party was to start and she was told to report there at 7 to be properly briefed, locate the maid who was to tip her off and then find the study to complete her mission.

The weather outside was frightful. The roads were a cross between ice and slush. The temperature was warming up so that the ice turned to slush but roads still proved hazardous as the layer of ice beneath the slush wasn’t very…slush. Black ice, a common killer in all winter road accidents. Still, the forecast show no new layers of snow coating the grounds that night so that would hopefully aid in her quick getaway. Then again, the weather wasn’t always accurate and Penny was really hoping that there was no big impending storm.

Getting out of her car, she hurried on inside where she was granted access and gathered with the rest of the cater-waiters after stowing her purse. She stood in line, her hair impeccable and her outfit crisp and clean as well as rather enticing, like the rest of them. The man hosting this party was a respected mogul with his hands dipped in several cookie jars; not the kind with beautiful women but the kind where he liked to trade secrets and information. She just didn’t expect him to be younger and also very leering. He looked at the line of cater-waiters, Penny included of course, like he was trying to pick which one would serve him later—after his wife passed out from all the champagne and strawberries. His eyes landed on Penny a moment too long and she felt a very uncomfortable shudder pass through her before he set his sights on the girl beside her. Glancing her way, she saw her eye-flirting with the man and she turned her attention elsewhere. Thank goodness.

There were eight cater-waiters. Three of them would be walking around the party with platters of champagne flutes filled with very expensive Dom Perignon champagne. Three more would be holding silver platters with assorted appetizers and one bite wonders. The other two would be getting drinks from the bar and catering to the guests for personal requests. Penny was one of the ones who would be catering to guests for personal requests. She wasn’t looking forward to it since she couldn’t balance anything to save her life but perhaps it wouldn’t be too bad. Besides, she found the maid who was to tip her off. All she had to do was wait for the signal; a brush to the nose.

Everyone was in position. The clock chimed 8 o’clock and guests started pouring in. A live orchestra was in the grand hall where the dancing and overall merriment of partying would occur and the soft strings of various songs could be heard all the way to the front door, furthering inviting guests. Champagne flutes were being taken off the trays as guests walked in and new trays were being handed off as they became empty, after all it wasn’t time for appetizers. There were hands to spare.

Penny and another female stood in the grand hall and watched guests pour in. They had note pads and started asking if anyone would like anything specific to drink aside from champagne. Soon orders were being written down and filled and she had to set to work. This was not what she had in mind. Penny was a computer girl, not a waitress. Oh, if her brother could see, he’d be wearing a smug grin on his face as he watched his not so coordinated sister attempt to do anything that didn’t involve a laptop and typing away.

Pablo sat in his one bedroom apartment and ignored the television. He had seen his face on the screen earlier, standing awkwardly behind the PR schmuck with the microphone and it pissed him off. Somebody out there was making a database of FBI faces, and he didn't want a record with his face attached. He'd had the shades on, but he could see the pink year-old scar just above his close cropped hairline clearly. A sure marker for anyone who was paying attention. Damn. He'd have to grow his hair out longer.

The bullet had only grazed Pablo's head last winter, and he remembered seeing Danny Davitt's pale face turn to Sueco. The scene replayed itself cruelly in slow motion in his mind- the big .357 in Danny's hand coming up faster than his partner could draw, the perfect tongue of flame blooming around the muzzle, Sueco's knee hitting the pavement next to Pablo's bleeding head. The bullet had entered the front of Sueco's throat in a crisp hole and taken out the back of his head. By the time his partner's body had fallen on top of him, Danny's footsteps were pounding away, his nervous giggle echoing off the walls of the buildings.

The case had been nibbling at him for months. Lately, though, it seemed to be devouring him in huge chunks. Somebody was protecting Danny. They always knew what the FBI was going to do next. He finished his first glass of whisky for the night and turned the cylinder on his revolver. Lucky bullets, he thought, get their own little merry-go-round. He knew where each one would end up. Tomorrow, unless everything went all to hell, they would pancake themselves against the back wall of the shooting range, one by one.

He poured himself a second shot, rattled two fresh ice cubes into the glass, and set it next to his gun on the table. His phone rang.

"Herrera," he said.

"Hey, Pablo, it's Scott." The intern's voice grated. Pablo frowned.

"Yeah. What's up?"

"It's a long shot, but Buddy Wilson is having a shindig tonight. It's the sort of thing your girl gets into sometimes. Like I said, it's a long shot, but you said to tell you if there was any possibility she'd show up. Wilson's in one of the target groups that hasn't been hacked yet."

"When does it start?"

"About an hour ago."

Pablo set the phone on the table without hanging up and rubbed his eyes. He brought the phone back up to his head.

"You couldn't have told me earlier? Don't answer that. Who else have you told?"

"Well, you, obviously, and I emailed the chief just now because he doesn't like calls while he's, uh, you know. With his wife."

"You little shit!" Herrera pounded the table. How many times had he said it? "She's a hacker, genius. She owns our email. Shit- she owns the whole damn LAN. Why do you think we've all been writing notes to each other on fucking post-its for the last two weeks? She watches you when you surf to that bimbos in bikinis site. Until we get her, no electronic communications about her or her brother."

"Oh- sorry."

"Shit. I bet she's getting a ping about it right now. I'm going to run down there and see if anyone rabbits." Pablo was already on his way to his car, a jacket half on. He was yelling again. "Turn off your computer, turn off your phone. You find a pencil and some paper. And Scott? If you have to look at naked girls, you can fucking draw them on your fucking paper with your fucking pencil!"

Her cell phone, a simple smart gadget thing—although as tech savvy as she really was, she still missed the days of flip phones when all it did was just the basic send phone calls and maybe quickie texts—was nestled in her blazer’s inside-pocket. She felt the vibration of some alert against her right breasts. Well, at least it didn’t buzz against her nipple otherwise she might have accidentally dropped this tray of drinks down that one lady’s dress—and what a wide neck it was!

She delivered the drinks she had on the tray to the people that had requested them and then she asked for a five minute relief; bathroom time! She locked herself in a small one that just had the toilet, sink and a big antique mirror on the wall and took her phone out of her breast pocket. She dropped down her scanner and she saw the email that went out from an internist. Reading it, her eyes widened. Well maybe this was what she wanted. A final show down to make them stop coming after her because truth be told, they would never catch her. She was always ten steps ahead of them and for a reason.

Putting her phone back into her breast pocket, Penny stepped out of the bathroom and cleared her throat. She smiled at some passerby guests and then glanced over to her informant. No single yet. With a heavy sigh, she picked up her tray and went back into the throng of the party. But now this was a real challenge because not only was she supposed to hack into Buddy Wilson’s server, she needed to keep a look out for any possible agent that would be looking for her.

Although, remember her wig, Penny calmed herself. She was so glad she was smart and thought quickly about putting on a jet black bob-wig and also wearing contacts that were blue instead of green. That meant she wouldn’t be recognizable because she did look different short black hair and blue eyes instead of green. She knew she had her pictures in their database. She’d been to jail three times in her life and each time, she had to take a mug shot. By the third time, she had been so pissed off, she flipped the photographer off with her finger. She learned that they did not find that funny one bit, especially since she did stick her tongue out at them too. Thankfully, she hadn’t been in jail long enough to become someone’s bitch.

It calmed her nerves and she proceeded throughout the party, taking orders, having them filled and bringing them to the guests. When every guest seemed to have the drink of their choice and not just the champagne, the kitchen staff gave her and the other girl appetizers to bring around on the same silver platters. But soon there really wasn’t much for the cater waiters to do because the guests started dancing and the ones who weren’t dancing were sloshed, mostly male and hitting on all the girls. The one that Wilson had singled out as the one he’d drag away for some fun was missing and so was Wilson. Penny felt sick to her stomach and she shook her head. Rich people. Perverted, dirty, disgusting rich people.

Pablo drove, fuming, through the melting slush. It was a bad night to be on the road. Not only was it New Year's Eve, patches of ice made driving treacherous, and there was no moon. One stretch of road had an entire length of street lights out, and his headlights bounced weirdly off the pavement. He focused a couple blocks ahead where the lights were working and trusted that there weren't any manholes open.

Alice had found the breach at headquarters, the mousy tech could barely speak two words together when she was face to face with anyone, but she wrote clear, concise emails. Two weeks ago she had revealed that there was an advance persistent threat on the LAN. She described the vector, the initial infection from a porn site, how she was tracking outbound traffic that didn't follow typical patterns. She had warned everyone that nothing on the network was safe. They had been hacked and the hacker was skilled- machines seemed to reinfect themselves every time they turned on. Alice was working on it, but there were a thousand computers in the building and any one of them could reinfect the whole network. It would take time to fix.

Pablo hadn't believed her. He acted on a tip, used the internal messaging system to organize a raid, and when he arrived at the target with four units, all he found was a printout of Penny's last mugshot, cheerfully flipping off the camera.

He drove, that same mugshot taped to his dashboard alongside Danny's mug from a previous arrest, and Sueco's agency portrait. His partner had been his opposite. Agent Jon Larsson, or "Sueco" as he was universally known, was a big Swede, six foot four and two hundred sixty pounds of no nonsense Scandinavian muscle. He had been six inches taller than Pablo and a full foot taller than his wife, Marge. He had been a savvy agent, gentler than his size suggested, but he and Pablo had perfected a one-two punch in the field, Pablo's street smarts and Sueco's intimidating size made them a very good team.

Danny had ended all that a year ago. Almost a year. January 14 would be the anniversary of the shooting. Danny's mugshot was a blank face. He had been busted a few times, never anything big. He hadn't seemed like a dangerous person at all until his big gun came out or they would have approached the whole arrest differently.

Danny had some kind of protection from On High. Pablo wondered who- a gang or a mob? Someone in the police? He had never figured out how Danny had disappeared so completely. He wasn't dead- they could see echoes of him around town- rumors, people who claimed to have seen him at a rave or a car show. Unpredictable reports, but persistent. He couldn't have been doing it himself. He wasn't disciplined or resourceful in that way.

His sister, though. She was the one that was getting to Pablo these days. That sassy picture traveled everywhere with him now, and he imagined seeing her everywhere- her red hair in a cosmetics ad on the side of a bus, those green eyes mocking him in a stranger's glance. He saw her in his dreams, sometimes snapping on the handcuffs, sometimes watching her walk out of the courtroom, convicted, in an orange jumpsuit. There were other dreams though, troubling and confusing where he dreamed that he woke up next to her, his hand on her breast, her middle finger tickling his chin. He would awaken aroused and angry at the same time. He started taking his showers cool, then cold.

The FBI shrink told him to watch out for obsessive thoughts about Penny. She was different than other suspects. She could compromise his impartiality. He had convinced the psychologist that he was objective, that this was just like any other case. The wild joy he felt when he was allowed to take the lead on the case, he hid carefully. He had no idea what he would do when he caught her finally. If he caught her. She might not survive. He doubted that he would either.

He parked across the street from the Wilson mansion. It was cold and late enough that the party was probably pretty chaotic. He sat and watched the big house through the giant iron gate at the front of the driveway. Nobody left for fifteen minutes, so he got out of his car and flashed his badge at the discreet guard house. He smelled cooling roast beef and champagne even before he opened the front door. He entered, and stood unnoticed in the foyer of the big house. An ancient Asian man was eating grapes from between a woman's breasts in the living room. Two women in black and white uniforms were covering another man's face in lipstick. One woman with a platter and a black bob was handing a straight whisky to a drunk older woman in a blue dress.

He looked for Penny's copper hair, her bright green eyes. Nothing, but something felt wrong. He scanned the room again, letting the impressions wash over him, not analyzing, just experiencing. He felt her there, like in his dream, tickling him with her contempt.

It was like a very strange chill that washed right into the foyer of the great mansion. It was so thickly laced with sweat from the dancing, alcoholic fumes from drinks that got stronger and stronger by request of the very inebriated and intoxicated guests and even scents of possible sex arousing throughout the wide expanse. It was hot and it was a wonder that any chill could have cut through the heat.

For Penny, she had just passed off a straight whiskey to a blonde woman wearing a pale blue dress that had such a low cut neck, she was waiting to see if one of those very fake breasts just popped right out of the confines. With the way the woman was stumbling in six-inch stiletto heels, she was betting on any moment now. She passed her the liquor and the blonde smiled to her, a very drunk smile and grazed her arm.
“Thank you Darling, you’re a true peach!” Penny caught a whiff of her breath and had to force a smile so not to let it be known she caught the very pungent scent of raw alcohol there and make a rather disgusted face.

“Oh…you’re very welcome, Drunky-McDrunkerson.” She spoke with her little lilt of an Irish accent and shook her head. A glance toward the door allowed her to drink in the tall, dark and handsome man that walked in and who also brought in the eerie chill. Oh my, break me off a piece of that… She wasn’t so gung-ho on her mission that she couldn’t take a moment to stop and appreciate the fine art of male perfection in all its glory. Although the longer she stared at this man, she quicker she was beginning to recognize him. As it dawned on her, she made a calm retreat down the foyer.

As she passed into the kitchen, she glanced at her informant who sniffled and then grazed her nose with her finger. The signal. With that, Penny tucked her tray under her arm and used the time to find herself a ‘bathroom.’ Her mission details explained that Buddy Wilson’s office/study was on the second floor, behind the large double oak doors. She slipped away unnoticed by the party-goers who far too into themselves and far too intoxicated and once upstairs, quietly and carefully walked down the dimly lit hall. She was thankful that it was plush carpeting. It muffled the heels of her ankle boots. Probably a very bad idea to wear them in this weather but a uniform was a uniform and this was the last step into acquiring her brother’s safety and survival. She was one step away from getting her family back.

Spotting the double oak doors, she opened them and was thankful it gave way and was not locked. Shutting the doors behind her after walking in, she turned up the light dimmer and noticed articles of clothing scattered about. A suit jacket, matching slacks and then a white blouse, a red lacy bra and a matching thong. Huh, looks like Buddy Wilson had really gotten it on with that one cater waiter who wanted him as much as he wanted her. Thankfully for Penny, they were nowhere to be seen in the office so it seemed that they ventured elsewhere.

Walking over to his computer, she booted it up and hacked her way through the log in. She accessed the files she needed and once she stored them on a thumb drive, she took out a second thumb drive and got to work in finding the mother load of servers. She plugged in her thumb drive which was fully equipped with a special virus she concocted and was also her moniker. It was one that once planted, it could be salvaged but the moment it was healed, upon rebooting the server, it infected it all over again. It was permanent unless one knew the way to take it down and only Penny did. A trade secret, really, but she never traded the secret away. It was a silent killer to the wonders of technology and why she had made herself onto the FBI’s top ten wanted list; well that and because she infiltrated their system and it was currently eating its way to destruction each time. A stroke of genius some might say—only Penny said it in fact.

Once she plugged it into the server, the one that was also connected to his entire company’s servers, she shut down his laptop and then started her way to leave. The doors suddenly opened however and there was a very inebriated Buddy Wilson there, shirtless and by the way his eyes were glazed over, she could tell he wasn’t in the right of mind.
“You.” He slurred, taking a step toward her.
“U-Uh, Mr. Wilson…are you lost?”
”I was, but now that I’ve found you… You see, my gaze lingered on you…but I overlooked you.” He got closer now and he boldly moved his hands to plant them on her curvy hips. “I should have chosen you. Come, give me a kiss and I will send you home knowing you had a very good time.”
”Mr. Wilson, I can’t.” Penny pulled away from him but he didn’t let up and he moved to her again, blocking her exit.
“I’ll pay you. I’ll pay you a bonus for being such a very talented cater-waiter.” His gaze dropped to the ample display of cleavage and he licked his lips.
“I have to go.”
”I said I’ll pay you. Don’t you walk away from me, bitch.” He sneered.
Penny ignored him, pushed him away and he turned and instantly grabbed her black bob. A small yelp came from her as he also pulled on the wig cap that secured her fiery red locks and she brought her hand up to grab it back into place.

”What the hell were you doing in here, anyways? Huh?!” It was then she remembered she had the silver platter. She turned and gripped it with both hands, swinging it hard and clobbering him in the face. He wasn’t dead, but he would have a nasty headache and not just from his hangover.

Penny made a mad dash as the silver platter clattered onto the hard wood floors of his office. Her mission was done, she took the information she needed as her consolation prize—which she later sold for a lot of money—and ran. As she descended down the stairs, her wig flew off, as did the wig cap, letting her fiery red locks be full and free as they tumbled down her back and framed her face. She full on collided with Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome and a gasp came from her.

Looking up, and without realizing that one of her blue contacts had fallen out, exposing the very unforgettable true green color of eyes, her gaze locked with his. Shit! “E-Excuse me. S-Sorry.” She ran out of his way and quickly left the mansion. She ran quickly, nearly slipping a few times down the icy path to her car. She got in, turned the engine on and drove off in full swing and panic down the icy and slushy roads. “Too close. Too fucking close!” She hit her hands on the steering wheel but quickly grabbed onto it when she realized that was not wise to do on dangerous, hazardous roads.

The police psychologist would have called Pablo's state "being in the present." He didn't subscribe to psychobabble bullshit, but the technique could be useful when clues weren't forthcoming. The wrongness he had felt earlier had eased. There were so many voices, quiet, loud, laughing. The occasional hushed moan or shameless scream from somewhere upstairs.

Pablo closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. All of those voices, bragging, pleading, gossiping in myriad accents- Spanish, Australian, Texan, Italian, German... Irish. His eyes flew open and he saw the blonde in the blue dress, her nose not six inches from his own. She grabbed the lapel of his coat in one hand and tried, drunkenly, to kiss him. She spilled half of her whisky down the front of his shirt before he could spin away from her.

"Wha's the matterr?" She slurred, lost her balance, and slid gracelessly to the floor. The dress had twisted just enough that one of her nipples was showing. "C'mon. How you gonna fuck me from way up there?"

Pablo looked around for a little help, but nobody seemed to see what was happening. The girl with the black bob was on her way upstairs, her silver tray tucked under her arm. Blue Dress had locked her arm around one of his ankles and was trying to wrestle him to the floor.

The wrongness again- what was it? He couldn't concentrate. He reached down and got his hands under Blue Dress's arms and dragged her around the corner to the next room. He propped her up against the wall next to a grandfather clock. He left her there and went back to the foyer, trying to chase down the instinct. The girl with the black bob was going upstairs with her platter under her arm. Why wasn't there a drink? She should have had a drink on the way up and no drink on the way down. If she was going for a little tryst for spending money, why did she have the platter?

He heard Blue Dress vomiting into the rich carpet when he heard a ringing sound like a bell, then a clatter. At the foot of the stairs, she ran into him and knocked him back against the wall and he saw the long red hair and one green eye.

It was Penny, but he hesitated. One blue eye? Then her black wig came tumbling down the stairs after her and everything clicked. Too late. She was out the door.

"Hey!" He grabbed the wig, fumbled for his badge and his gun, missed them both and ran to the door. She was running unsteadily down the driveway. He started after her and his feet abruptly slipped out from underneath him and he dropped hard on ice, his gun in its shoulder holster digging into his ribs and knocking the breath from him.

There were fireworks, illegal in the city, but people brought them in from Mexico anyway. New Year firecrackers went off in sudden bursts and occasionally big booms echoed through the neighborhood. Pablo lay on the ground, wheezing when he heard two sharp cracks, a pause, then a third crack. A bullet shattered the ice just above his head. He rolled away, instinctively, and curled behind the entrance stairs to the mansion. He had heard the pattern before at the FBI shooting range. Two quick shots for a knockdown, a breath and a sighting, then the kill shot. The explanation had sounded fishy at the range, and obviously, it didn't work. None of the three shots had hit him. He heard it again, two, then one, but in a different direction. The shooter wasn't aiming at him anymore. They were shooting at Penny. She would have been too far away to hit reliably, but that wasn't what had him worried. Who would want to kill them both? Law enforcement might shoot at her but not him, and whoever she was working with would shoot at him, but not her.

Pablo got his gun out just in time to hear wheels squealing. As he left cover, he saw a dark sedan driving up the street to the right. Penny was running to the left and he ran to follow her. He had lost a lot of time. He ran in the snow so he wouldn't lose traction again, but it slowed him down, He got to his car and pulled out hard, his headlights sweeping the other parked cars and the iron gate. He honked to get the guards to open it again, and it took them an infuriatingly long time. When there was enough space for his car to fit through, he gunned the engine and squealed into the street. He could see Penny's tail lights two blocks away, moving fast. Her car went over a rise, then he saw headlights sweep the sky twice like her car was spinning or rolling.

He drove as fast as he dared. The headlights over the crest were angled oddly, lighting the upper floor of a house. Pablo approached the rise cautiously.

Her hands were shaking and she was breathing hard. There had been gunshots and she was lucky that none of them hit her but it was too close. She had a bullet wedged in the back glass windshield but it didn’t shatter. It was too close. Way too close. She would have had to have sex with that drunk Buddy Wilson who had just shagged some stupid cater-waiter, nearly killed him, bumped into a Copper and almost died because they figured out she took information she shouldn’t have. The information on the thumb drive wasn’t part of the deal but it was her security blanket in case the plans fell through. It was her way to hold something over their head in case they didn’t give her brother back to her. It was also information worth killing over because it could devastate the government if it was exposed.

The roads were slick and icy and slushy and very dangerous. Her car wasn’t exactly a four wheel drive and she forgot to put chains on anyways because of the time crunch. Besides, chains didn’t allow her to make quick getaways because it was like driving with stone wheels that wanted to wobble and wiggle as she drove. Now she was wishing she had because her car kept veering.

Glancing behind her, she saw a car coming towards her in a quick pace and she grit her teeth. “Fuck!” She turned to look forward and seeing a slight turn that she was about to go straight as opposed to following the road, Penny turned her wheel harshly. It set off a chain of events that happened back to back and she couldn’t even really comprehend what was happening. It just happened.

Her car seemed to spin off and then flip before landing upside down. Her head hit the steering wheel and even the roof of her car harshly, causing everything to go black. Her head was bleeding, her car was left immobile and had smoke coming out of the engine. Penny lay there barely breathing and her mind revisiting a blocked memory before everything in her memory and in her brain went completely black…

”Papa!” A young firecracker of an eight year old ran up to a strong and strapping man, her fiery red hair bobbing down her back as she jumped up into his arms. Strong arms scooped up the little girl and held her close, a warm kiss pressed to her temple.
“There’s my Lucky Penny.”
“What took you so long? Are you staying this time? Can me, you and Danny go to the town fair?” Her accent was stronger, coating all her words and her voice was different, smaller, more adorable and full of innocence, as were those hypnotic green eyes like shining emeralds.
“Sweet Pea…” he sat her on the counter and cupped her cheeks. “I have to go away for a while. But Danny will take care of you. I promise.”
”But…but…Papa you just came back. Where do you have to go?”

Just then, a knock came at the door. He walked away from her and went to the door. Opening it, he saw the law officials presenting their badges, arresting him and reading him his rights.

Little Penny hopped off the counter and she ran to the door to find her father turned around as they strapped on handcuffs behind his back.
“Papa!” She screamed, her green eyes turning blurry as they filled with water. She ran to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, starting to cry. “Please don’t go! Please don’t take my Papa away from me!” She pleaded with hysterical sobs.

Hands were around her and started pulling her away. She cried harder and turned into her older brother who knelt down to her height and held her in his arms. The law officials took him and turned away. When Penny looked back to see her father leaving, she tried to run after him but Danny held her back.

Then everything went black.

Pablo's headlights fell on the car, upside down, still rocking from flipping over. He parked so anybody coming over the rise too fast would his his car instead of him. He approached cautiously, gun drawn, following his flashlight. Penny didn't seem violent, but neither had Danny. Now he wasn't going to take chances. This family was bad news.

She was crumpled against the roof of the car, her seatbelt holding her waist high. Penny had blood dripping into her hair from a cut on her forehead. Pablo could see both of her hands limp against the roof of the car. No gun. A tiny flash drive with a wrist loop was lying next to her hand. He picked it up and holstered his gun. He took out a tiny black folding knife and flipped it open with his thumb. With his right hand he cradled Penny's neck, trying to hold it steady as he cut the seat belt. She slid free and he pulled her as gently as he could out onto the street.

"Papa?" she whispered.

Pablo pulled his phone and dialled 911, but hesitated before sending. The shooter. If the shooter was FBI, she wouldn't survive the night in a hospital. She probably wouldn't get there at all. He hated to think that one of his colleagues had been shooting at him, but he couldn't afford to be wrong. Not tonight. She didn't seem to have broken bones, but he had to have someone check her neck. He picked her up, carefully. She didn't weigh much, even unconscious, and she looked small and vulnerable, her pale skin almost blue in the cold street lights. He slid her into the back seat of his car and he caught sight of the inside curve of one of her breasts. His dream came back to him. His hand on her breast. He pulled away from her, startled at his own thoughts. She was an enemy. A suspect. He wanted her. He wanted to put her behind bars.

He drove slowly, trying to think. The guys at the agency tended to be hotshots, especially the ones that hung around the shooting range. Who was it that had tried to explain that two-one pattern? A short guy, slicked back hair? Or was he just standing there when someone else had explained it? Whoever wanted to kill Penny hadn't cared enough to send the very best. A professional would have killed him, especially after missing the first time. Then they would have killed Penny. That line of thinking didn't make sense. He couldn't figure out why the shooter had left with the job not done.

He could only think of one place to take her to get a discreet x-ray. He sighed and dialed his phone.

"Hey babe, it's me."

There was a pause on the line. Pablo could hear a woman's breathing on the other end.

"Hey asshole. Don't call me 'babe.' It was a condition in the settlement."

Pablo bit his tongue. Victoria was always passionate, and her anger hadn't cooled in three years. It never would.

"I need an x-ray for a suspect that was just in a car accident."

"Take him to the fucking hospital. I'm a chiropractor, Pablo, not a trauma nurse."

"She will get killed by bad people if I take her to emergency. Something's wrong. There was gunfire where there shouldn't have been. Just check her neck and I'll be out of your hair."

"Fuck. Did you just get drunk and crash with some New Year bimbo in the car? I swear, Pablo. I'll check her, but I'll call the police on your ass if you're wasted."

"I was chasing her, Victoria. To arrest her. She's on the top ten list, but I have to keep her alive and preferably not paralyzed."

There was a long pause. "You sonofabitch. I was warm."

"Thank you, Victoria. I'll meet you at your office."

~~~~

The x-ray came out clean. No fractures in the skull or the vertebrae. Nothing broken. Victoria had made him put Penny on a trauma board and they wheeled her into the office on a gurney. The only words Victoria spoke the whole time were, "She's fine" and "concussion." As soon as she had checked Penny's pulse, she dropped her stethoscope and walked out the door.

"Thank you," Pablo said to her retreating back. She flipped him off without even turning around, her black waves bouncing against her back. She didn't even bother to lock the place up.

He carried Penny to the car and put her in the front seat and belted her in. Then he went back into the clinic, put the trauma board away, turned out the lights, and locked the door. For someone who hated him as much as Victoria did, she sure trusted him a lot.

He got in his car and sat behind the wheel, staring at his hands. Penny was unconscious, leaning against his passenger side window. A cold fear ran through him. He was a target too and he had been about to take her to his apartment. He went to a 24-hour drive through pharmacy and got some gauze, tape, and disinfectant, then he got his daily limit of cash from an ATM machine at a gas station and picked a motel by the freeway at random. He got a room and pulled his car into the wrong space in case someone was looking for his car. He shut off the engine. The confusing desire for her tweaked at him. She was beautiful, even when she was unconscious. Her blouse was missing a button and was gaping dangerously. He reached over, intending to close it but he pulled it open instead. She was wearing black lace under the white blouse. He ran his finger along the edge of the fabric and was startled to see Penny's glassy eyes looking back at him, one green, one blue, and blood coming out of her nose.

A small moan came from her as her body was gingerly pulled from the wreckage of her now upside down sedan. Her eyes fluttered open a moment, her head pounding and she felt so dizzy and so much pain that it was like she could throw up right there. She had a moment of déjà vu it felt like and when she looked up at her savior, she swore she saw a vision of the man she hadn’t seen since the day he was arrested. “Papa?” She whispered.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her eyelids closed. Things went very black and it felt like they stayed that way for a long while. It was as if everything she knew so well and had held dearly, both painful and happy, slipped away from her and she didn’t know anything but basic human function. Penny wanted to hold onto it. Like being in a dark abyss and everything she knew, experienced and had endured was flying by her like loose pieces of paper to her life. She tried to catch onto them but each time she felt like she grabbed one piece, another piece flew away and she lost her grip on all sense of reality.

It felt like hours before she came to. Her head had this dull ache like the lingering feeling of being hit on the head with the heaviest ball or a cement block or even a wall. She felt a little dizzy but mostly she felt like she had been pumped with some serious muscle relaxants or even pain killers. It was probably a moment of delusional euphoria because the pain swarmed to her head in an instant and she felt the full on ramifications of whatever happened to her come to full throttle. Her head pounded and she felt so dizzy, she wanted to keel over and throw up.

She felt someone’s finger tracing along her skin and for the moment, she felt the pain take a backseat. It felt soothing and an exhale of a relaxing sigh came from her through her nose. Her eyes then fluttered opened and she winced lightly. There was something poking her eye. It was the blue contact, a little off and having uncovered a sparkle of her natural eye color of green. Opening them wider and relaxing the movement of the blinking, her gaze landed on a very handsome man before her, his finger tracing along what happened to be her bra. Her nose had dried blood, a smidgen outside of her nostrils and as it dawned on her that she had no idea who this man was, why he was touching her or even where she was, she sat up abruptly.

Too startled to be fixated on the rush to her head from her quick and sudden movement, she backed up away from him and started breathing fast, the look of actual fear resonating in her eyes. Her other blue contact fell out of her eye from the shaken movement and because of how it was already so displaced and came loose and she swallowed hard. She could see clearly now and she didn’t understand. She started shaking and blinked her eyes rapidly but that didn’t help with the overwhelming pain that started to take over. Her head pound and a serious wave of nausea bubbled through her. She felt bile rise up and she harshly swallowed it down.

She took calming breaths then, deep and slow. In through her nose and out through her mouth. The head rush went away and her heart beat came to a normal pace. The entire time, she didn’t take her eyes off of him but the fear was still there. There was a strange man—albeit very handsome—there with her, he had been touching her and she suddenly became very aware that she was nearly topless in front of him. Grabbing the lapels of her blouse, she pulled them closed and tightly, covering herself. “W-Who are you?” He looked familiar. Really familiar but for the life of her she couldn’t place him. “W-Where a-am I?” That panicking feeling was starting to settle in. Not just because she didn’t know who he was or where she was, but because of something else.

Bile threatened to rise up again and she swallowed heavily before managing to get out, “Who am I?”

Pablo jerked his hand back like her skin was burning him. He felt stupid, caught in a weak moment. Penny shrank away from him, pulling her blouse closed. The color was coming back into her cheeks and her lips. Her eyes were more vivid green than any of the dozens of photographs he had seen of her.

"You can call me Special Agent Herrera, but you already know that. We're at the Aurora Nites Inn. Just until I can sort out who was shooting at us." He stuffed the bandages into his coat pocket, got out of the car and walked around to her side. He opened the door and snapped a handcuff around her right hand and snapped the other to his own wrist. "You're under arrest, by the way."

"Who am I?" she said. Pablo held her up as she got out of the car. She seemed like she might collapse or throw up. He should have thought of that before handcuffing himself to her. And what the hell kind of question was that?

"You're real bad fucking news, chica. It's almost impossible to get on the FBI's ten most wanted without killing someone, but there you are. Number ten. You'll be number nine if Bubba Chatter dies. He killed seven ICU nurses in three states before he ended up in the St. Chuck's ICU with that bullet between the lobes of his brain. Can't say he's getting the best of care down there. People in ICU die all the time."

Who am I... maybe she was playing some kind of legal game. She was the primary suspect in twenty three counts of wire fraud and three cases of identity theft that they could prove, although they had another fifty eight suspected identity thefts they were pretty sure she was involved with. It bothered him that she probably wouldn't be charged with the FBI headquarters exploit. That would be too embarrassing to the agency and it would give her unlimited desirability as a black hat hacker. Now would be the right time to start laying the groundwork for an insanity defense.

Pablo opened the door to the dingy room and led her back to the bathroom. One of the fluorescents was out and it made an irritating buzz. The half light made their skin look dead. He sat her down on the toilet lid and moved the handcuff from his wrist to the towel rack. It wouldn't hold her, but it would make a hell of a lot of noise if she pulled free. He took off his coat and threw it on the old double bed, then he rolled up his sleeves and washed his hands. He soaked a rag in warm water and began to carefully wash the dried blood away from the cut at the top of her forehead. It wasn't serious, but it had bled a lot. He made some butterflies out of the surgical tape and placed them carefully over the disinfected wound. He had done this many times, but always for himself. Doing it for someone else was a different experience. Oddly intimate.

Maybe it was just the concussion and she was confused. He had fantasized about taking her into custody hundreds of times, had imagined the sense of satisfaction, of finality. There was supposed to be closure. There wasn't any of that. She seemed more like a victim than a dangerous criminal right now- confused and sick.

He checked her hair and found clotted blood. He didn't think they would have to stay out of sight for long, but he didn't want her looking like she'd been in an accident. He might have just shaved her head. It would would have been expedient, it would disguise her and simplify things for him. It would humiliate her. Something else in him wanted any excuse to run his fingers through all that fire.

He opened the handcuffs again and sat her down outside the tub with her tangled, flaming hair streaming into the tub. He used the shower handle and ran cold water through her hair first. Blood tended to clump in hot water, so he got as much of it out with the cold as he could, then he lathered it with the cheap motel shampoo. It smelled like Johnson & Johnson baby shampoo. It probably was. It worked, though, and he was able to get all of the blood out. He rinsed her hair with hot water and squeezed it out with his hands before toweling it. He realized he was humming a song, Frio frio, como agua del rio, o caliente como agua de la fuente. He looked at her carefully. She didn't look like she had just come from the beauty parlor, but at least she didn't look too much like she'd just rolled her car.

Special Agent Herrera. This was a very handsome man whose eyes she could just stare into for the longest time and probably feel so warm and fuzzy. But he kept talking and he spoke with such a harsh and mean tone, that she was starting to think she most definitely would not melt in his arms and feel so warm and fuzzy. He was talking to her like she was in trouble and she didn’t even have the faintest idea.

Bad news? She was on the FBI’s top ten wanted list? How was that even possible. What was the top ten wanted list?! She was thinking it was nothing good because of the way he was talking to her, the way he had her handcuffed to him and the fact that he made it clear he wouldn’t care if she died or not. Her eyes watered and she looked away, gingerly wiping her eyes with her free hand. She was supported by him as they made the trek across the lot and into a dingy and gross motel room. Once inside, the light was thankfully not strong enough to irritate her and she felt like she was moving on autopilot and was no longer really aware that she was crying. Although she was a rather quiet crier.

Sitting back on the covered toilet, she looked at him and sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her arm, ignoring the clatter it made from the handcuff and the fact she was kind of chained to the towel rack right now. Yeah, because she was totally going to run away right now. She just found out that she was a bad person, was on some really bad top ten wanted list and this man who she thought was incredibly handsome was mean and evil and didn’t care if she died! Based on how he talked to intimately about some man who killed a bunch of nurses. Now, he was a bad guy!

He cleaned her up, cleaned the blood off of her forehead and her nose and even washed her hair. It made her feel a sort of emptiness inside, like it was some reminder of how alone she was that someone was doing this for her. She didn’t understand it but she felt incredibly sad. That and well she just found out she was in trouble for a lot of things she didn’t even have any recollection of doing.

Looking up at him when he finished washing her hair, the information sank in finally and fully. Her dizziness seemed to come back in full swing and even though he cleaned up the blood, bandaged her in the right places and even washed her hair—man he had really wonderful fingers that felt good against her scalp—she still felt like she could throw up. If anything, she made it worse because she kept swallowing it down.

Turning away from the tub, she lifted up the lid of the toilet and she just deposited whatever was in her stomach that she had refused to come up earlier. She gripped the edge of the toilet bowl and kept pushing her wet hair back so it didn’t get soiled. Her eyes watered again and it only made her head pound more which made her keep producing dry heaves because let’s face it, there hadn’t been much in her stomach to begin with. Coughing deeply, her body shook and a small whimper came from her. She sniffled when it all finally stopped and she sat up, lowering the lid and flushing the toilet immediately. She the rest her head lightly on top of it, a rush of exhaustion running through her from all of that. That and the dry heaves just really hurt.

”Can you yell at me tomorrow for being this supposed bad person?” She whined. “I want to go to sleep and wake up from this horrendous nightmare. This can’t be real.” She murmured the last part to herself. It couldn’t be real that she had no idea what he was talking about, that she didn’t know who she was or her own name or even the fact that she could ever forget his face. She would remember it. She’d remember any face. She had a good memory. Right?

Pablo was confused. Penny seemed like a completely different person. Where was the smartass chick with the well-used middle finger? The concussion must have done a number on her. Or it was the insanity defense again? He would have to come up with a way to figure out if she was just fucking with his head or if she really didn't know what was happening.

He had taken the required ethics classes at the academy, but this was the kind of thing that got glossed over. Did guilt apply to the body or to the memory? If Penny truly didn't remember what she had done, could she be held responsible for it? If the motivation for incarceration was rehabilitation, wasn't she, for all practical purposes, already rehabilitated?

Her idea about going to sleep was terrible. Someone with a concussion shouldn't sleep right away or they might go into a coma. Losing her dinner into the toilet was the last straw. She was a very messed up woman right now.

"You need to stay awake for another hour or so," he said, watching her eyes, "Your brain needs to settle down without shutting down completely. You were in a bad car accident." He drew a glass of water and handed it to her along with a couple of pain pills.

He wanted her to stay awake, but the television in the tiny motel room didn't get anything but the infomercial channel. He decided to talk to her about herself. Maybe he could get an idea about whether she was manipulating him or not. He led her to the bed but he didn't let her lie down.

"Sit against the headboard, look at me. Stay awake." He sat in a chair next to the bed and brought Sueco to mind. He didn't feel the overwhelmeing anger this time. "I had a partner we called Sueco. He was a big white guy, Swedish and blond and he blushed like a little girl when he was embarrassed." Pablo smiled at the memory. "You'd think an FBI agent would have a tough skin about stuff, but he never seemed to get hard or jaded. He had this picture of his wife, Margie, on his desk, a cute little lady and we teased him about their size difference. He had to weigh three times as much as her. We told him if he used the missionary position with her we'd charge him with attempted murder. Poor guy turned beet red every time. 'She's got you wrapped around her little finger,' I said once and he grinned and turned pink and said 'I love it when she does that.'"

Pablo watched Penny's eyes as he talked, watched her reactions. He found the telling about Sueco strangely healing, even if Penny herself was guilty of accessory to his murder after the fact. It felt good to talk about him. It felt good to talk to her. He reached over and slipped her shoes off. The law enforcement part of his brain said it would be hard for her to run without shoes on. The part that was increasingly dictating Pablo's actions said he wanted to touch her.

"He got us back once. Larry replaced that picture on his desk with some porn starlet. The next day when we got to work, he had replaced every picture on every desk on our floor with a picture of Margie. But that wasn't all. At the staff meeting, the chief spent the first five minutes raking everyone over the coals for our loose morals and lack of character. Sueco was busting a gut in the back of the room the whole time. The chief ended by pointing out that Sueco was the only one in the room who didn't have a picture of another man's wife on his desk."

Pablo shook his head and chuckled. "You know, I never saw him out of control angry. There was one kid that had emptied a 9mm clip at Sueco and missed him with all eleven bullets. Sueco just went over and picked the kid up by the back of his baggy pants and held him up in the air kicking and swearing until I could get there to cuff him and read him his rights."

"A year ago we got a call to go on a bust. A simple one, really. A kid that always had his hands in something mildly illegal was carrying something for someone. I don't even know who it was for. Sueco and I found the kid in front of the address. I called to get his attention. He shot at me first and nicked my head here." Pablo touched the scar just above his hairline. "Then he shot Sueco through the neck. He was dead before he even fell."

Pablo stared at his hands for a long time.

"I've wondered why it wasn't me that died that night. He was the better man, he made his job work with his marriage. I couldn't hold my marriage together. I'm a selfish vengeful bastard and my ex reminds me every chance she gets."

He looked at Penny's green eyes. "What do you remember? You said 'Papa' when I took you out of the car. Who is that?"

A small and incoherent mumble came from her and she forced herself to lift her head from the toilet cover. Her head felt like it weight a ton and when she opened her eyes, the room started to spin a little bit. She wanted to just put her head back down and closed her eyes, sleep for a little while but he wouldn’t let her do that. He even told her that she had been in a car accident. “I think I would have remembered if I was in a car accident.” She murmured, snorting a little bit.

Taking the pills and the water, she downed them both, the water doing a lot to quench her thirst and make her feel a little bit more alive but she still wanted to sleep. She thought for a moment, as he led her to the bed, he would let her sleep but he kept making her sit upright when she wanted to either fall to her side or slide down on her back. Resting her head back against the headboard, her eyes closed and she felt like she could just fall asleep right here, just like this. Considering how she felt, how dizzy she was and the fact she had absolutely no energy, it was very plausible. But then he started talking and there this was gut feeling inside of her that made it very difficult so she didn’t sleep through what he was saying.

Her eyes opened and she tilted her head. Her eyes weren’t open fully but at least half slits so that they weren’t closed and she could make him out enough to see his lips moving. Words came out, talking about his partner and soon she found herself sort of drawn to his voice. So soft and he was a wonderful storyteller. It started out happily. His partner, Sueco was this big white man who was like a big old teddy bear. He had a small and petite wife named Margie and the image of them she concocted in her head was adorable. They seemed like an adorable fit, even if she was so short and he was so tall. It made her smile lightly, tiredly.

Then the story got funny. Talking about how they replaced her picture with a porn star’s and how Sueco got even. Yeah, that would be a good one. Unfortunately, it took a turn for the worse and Sueco was killed and her heart went out for him. She swallowed hard, fully awake now and she looked at this Special Agent Herrera and sat up slowly. “I-I’m so sorry about your partner.” Nothing clicked. If anything, he just looked all the more familiar but his story didn’t trigger anything. She wasn’t sure if it was supposed to or not and that made her worry and also feel really guilty. Well, guiltier than she technically was since he was trying to arrest her for a lot of things she had no recollection of. “W-What does that have to do with me?” She felt like a bitch for asking because he must have told her that story for a reason. It had to be linked to her but how?

“Papa?” She looked at him like he was seriously losing his mind but the word seemed to reverberate through her head, echoing or something. She just kept staring, as if at him but she was staring right past him. She was seeing something but the images were blurry and the voices and sounds garbled and distorted. All she heard was some form of screaming and crying. Closing her eyes, she pressed her hands against her head and groaned softly. It wasn’t the sound. Her head hurt from the strain. “I don’t know. I don’t know!” She felt like she loosing it. Not just because she had no idea what he was talking but because she didn’t remember anything. Her entire life was just blank. She had no memories, she had no idea who he was even though his face looked so familiar, she had no idea why he was arresting her and she certainly had no idea who ‘Papa’ was. “I don’t know anything. I can’t remember anything. Everything is black.” Her voice broke and her body started shaking. “I don’t even know my own name!” And she was trying so hard to figure it out. She was trying so hard to remember but it was only hurting her head.

“W-What does that have to do with me?” she said, and Pablo wondered the same thing. She was pretty stressed and upset, and she needed to relax.

"Honestly," he said, "I'm not completely sure." It was the truth, or at least enough of it for tonight. He sighed. Maybe she really didn't know who she was. "I thought I knew, but I don't know now." She hadn't pulled the trigger. She couldn't have known what had really happened out there on that cold street.

"You're Penny Davitt," he said, "and we think that's probably your real name. You were born in Ireland, but we don't know much about your parents. You're extremely intelligent. I've been following you for a long time. I know you better than most of the people I work with, and I think you probably know me pretty well too. Sometimes it's like you're inside my head, anticipating every move."

A strand of her hair was stuck under the corner of one of the tape butterflies. He reached up and pulled it out gently. "You know me, and I think you hate me." He let his finger follow the curve of her jaw. He had hated her too. Maybe he still did.

Her eyes kept drifting shut.

"Stay with me, Penny. Stay here. Stay right here."

He took her hand and squeezed every time her eyes started to close.

"Listen- there aren't any fireworks any more. There aren't sirens. We're safe for now. Tomorrow might be different, but we have a few hours right now. Stay with me."

Her breathing was steady and deep. There was no way he could keep her awake much longer.

"Okay," he said, finally. It had only been thirty minutes or so, but he was exhausted. He picked her up and laid her down flat and covered her with a blanket. Her eyes closed, and she looked like a child for a moment, completely peaceful. He hovered his lips over hers, but pulled back. Good night kisses were not for people who hated each other.

She could wake with her memory, and if she did, she would get away, but Pablo didn't want to handcuff her to the bed. It seemed wrong somehow. He used the handcuffs to tie the doorknob to the frame. It wasn't much, but it would definitely be hard to get out of the room without waking him.

He turned out the light and lay down on the other side of the bed, flat on his back and stared at the stained ceiling tiles reflecting red, then green with some neon sign outside the window. He heard a train in the distance and trucks on the Interstate.

The dream was vivid this time. He was handcuffed in his office and Penny was calmly rifling through all of his papers, his files on her and Danny. She would take a sheet out and burn it or shred it. One piece of paper she ate, a bite at a time. All of his information about her was being destroyed a little at a time. She was only wearing one of his shirts and it came down to her mid-thigh. Her hair was tied back loosely and she talked as she destroyed his records. Then she sat on his lap and put her finger on his lips and smiled. "I hate you so much," she said, and kissed him deeply.

He seemed to have finally taken mercy on her. Either mercy or pity, which one was entirely irrelevant at this point because she was about a thin strand of sewing thread away from completely snapping and going utterly insane because her entire memory and life was a total blank slate. Even with the painkillers in her system, because she was trying so hard to remember, the pain was pushing through the medicine and it was taking whatever little energy she had to begin with away and leaving her feel completely exhausted.

She took deep breaths to calm herself, breathing in through her nose and exhaling, at first, shakily through her mouth. As she kept this breathing regime, taking slow and deep breaths instead of fast and short ones that would only make her hyperventilate and pass out, her exhales came out steadier until they weren’t shaky at all.

He said her name. Penny Davitt. That was her name and she wasn’t sure if she was happy about that or disappointed. Penny Davitt? The hell kind of name was that?! “That’s a stupid name…” She mumbled, absolutely miserable.

Penny felt him squeeze her hand each time she felt like she was drifting. She sat back, resting her head against the headboard and she was finding it increasingly difficult now to keep her eyes open. He posed a series of questions instead of answers. He informed her of her name, explained that they hated each other but that they knew each other and knew each other better than anyone else it seemed. None of it came back. Even though her head throbbed, she still tried with a valiant effort to remember, to give him something but she couldn’t. Everything was this black and dank haze. There was something behind it, she could even hear the sounds but it was all garbled and distorted and made no sense at all.

“I need…” A small whimper came from her and she tilted her head, letting it rest on her shoulder and her eyes fluttered closed. He squeezed her hand again and they opened just barely, enough to indicate that she was still awake and not yet gone. “What?” She mumbled. There was no more trouble for the night. No one was finding them or banging down on the door yet. They were safe. For now.

He took some form of pity or mercy on her and laid her down. Almost immediately when her body was stretched and relaxed vertically as she lay on her back, Penny fell asleep. She didn’t even feel him hover over her to kiss her, she didn’t hear him jimmy the door to make it more difficult to open if she tried to escape the next morning—she heard absolutely nothing. She was too far gone asleep.

Her mind played with her, toggling images, creating screens so she couldn’t see it, distorting sounds so she couldn’t recognize it. She made out some things but she couldn’t understand it. It was like someone took a film strip and mixed up the scenes because it played at random in her head.

The images were blurry, the voices sounded odd and off but nonetheless, something plagued her mind…

”What did you do?!”
“Get away from me Penny.”
“Danny, what did you do? Why do you have gun? What happened?” She followed him into his room and watched as he hastily packed away some things in an old duffel. When he finished, he pulled the magazine of his gun out to check that it was fully loaded before pushing it back in. He tucked the gun into the back of his jeans and fastened his over it to provide a good enough cover.
“Shut up Penny, don’t fucking push me!”
“Danny—“
“Enough!” He turned and in his fury and also anxiousness, he backhanded her right across her jaw, hard enough to bust her lip well enough to make her bleed.
Penny instantly cupped her jaw and felt the searing warmth of crimson blood lightly dribbling down the corner of her mouth.
”Danny…”
He made a groaning sound, wincing. Regret filled him for striking her. He didn’t mean to, that was the truth. That Copper, on the other hand, well that’s what he got for messing with the wrong guy on the wrong day. It would make this easier though if Penny hated him.

Grabbing his duffel, he turned back to her and took his gun out and pointed it at her. “Don’t make this harder. I… someone tonight… I need to go… or I swear I will kill you!”
“Danny!”
He shoved right past her, ignoring as she kept calling out to him. Then he was gone.

She could hear the echo in her head. She tried to relive it again so that his truth wasn’t cut out. He did something to someone. He had to go and he threatened her with death over something. It didn’t make sense to her. None of it did. Who was Danny and what did he do that was so bad?

Pablo woke to the sound of tires in snow out in the parking lot. It must have gotten cold again in the wee hours but he felt warm. Early morning light was peeking in around the thin curtains and he could hear a garbage truck backing up a few streets away.

He was curled around Penny, his arm over her waist. He noticed this just as he noticed that he was painfully erect. He lifted his arm carefully so he wouldn't wake her. He rolled away from her and stood. He had slept in his clothes, and they smelled stale with sweat and spilled whisky. He made a face at himself and headed for the shower. The bathroom was tiny, lined in wood panel that buckled with the dampness in the room. He took his clothes off and stepped in the shower. He let the warm water wash away yesterday's grime. He recited paragraphs of criminal code to himself to try to get his cock to settle down. It worked, sort of. He could feel Penny's presence in the motel room like she was a source of heat.

As an afterthought, he picked up his shirt and washed it as well as he could with the shampoo. It wouldn't take too long to dry it in front of the small room heater. He hated to put on his other clothes, but a clean shirt at least would be something.

He felt more solid this morning than he had in the dark last night. Everything had been slipping away, his dream came back to him, the loss and the startling kiss. He felt more objective now. He sat in a chair by the window while his shirt dried, draped over the other chair, and checked his gun, an old habit. He glanced over at Penny, still sleeping and she rolled onto her side. Her hair fell over her face and her blouse opened where the button was missing. The black lace against her creamy skin mesmerized him. She looked so soft to touch, so beautiful. He watched her breathe. Breathing was always miraculous to him. How a person's body could bring in invisible life and breathe out poison, and do it so quietly, so casually. So beautifully.

Pablo was hungry but he couldn't leave Penny and he didn't want to wake her. He would wait an hour, then make a test call to headquarters, see if anything sounded fishy.

He watched the parking lot at the edge of the curtain. A few people, bundled up and miserable, were packing their cars, getting ready to get back on the road to whatever far place was their destination. He envied them their certainty.

He took the handcuffs off the door and put them in their holder at the back of his belt. He waited and watched.

She tossed and turned in her sleep a little bit but managed to have a dreamless sleep after that rather garbled and distorted picture of whatever it was she dreamed. Her head didn’t hurt anymore so maybe the pain killers finally kicked in to give her a chance at a good sleep. Although that morning when she woke up, she felt the full weight of the supposed car accident she had gotten into the night before, if this Special Agent Herrera was even telling her the truth. But even she wasn’t so deluded to think he would make that up when he was trying to arrest her and get information out of her that she couldn’t give him because she didn’t remember. So perhaps he was telling the truth.

That morning, she woke up and a soft groan came from her as she slowly rolled onto her back. Her entire body was so sore from the entire ordeal, her head throbbed and now that she was no longer weakened from the accident and neither was she still feeling the wonderful magic of pain killers, she could feel the pain at its worse. She felt like death and it was not a very comfortable feeling because it was like she could barely move.

Somehow, even though her body screamed with protests just from lifting her leg or raising her arm, or even stretching, Penny pushed herself up so she was sitting up. Moving up the bed, she sat back and pressed her back against the headboard, a heavy sigh coming from her. It was a lot of exertion to just move that much. Maybe it was because she had just woken up, but she felt so tired already, she wanted to go back to sleep.

Turning her head, she glanced over to see Herrera looking out the window. She cleared her throat. Looking down at herself, she adjusted her shirt, buttoning up the buttons so it covered her modesty, having only now realizing she was probably on display this entire time. “Copper?” Her ‘affectionate’ nickname for the agent who was trying to arrest her.

When he turned, she looked him over. Penny couldn’t get over at how handsome he was. His ex-wife must have been a fool. Or she was the smartest woman in the world because surely there had to be a reason why someone would want to divorce this hunky piece of yum. Hey, she might have had no memory but she didn’t need her memory for her body to react the way it did in his presence. Like she wanted to press herself against him and just wrap herself around him like a snake to feel the contours of his body against hers. Wow, she needed to stop thinking like this.

Aside from being almost painfully handsome, some part of her felt resentment towards him. So perhaps he was right in saying that they knew each other, better than most. That she even hated him because even though she felt inexplicably attracted to him, she hated him that much more for it. Still, he looked distressed and under the natural light illuminating from the window, she saw he looked tired even. In an attempt to lighten things up, a lopsided grin formed on her face—despite the pain she felt from head to toe—and she lifted her hands, pressing her wrists together. “Time to book me?”

Pablo grinned at Penny's joke, and her nickname for him. The way she held her wrists out to him was tempting. Wrists. How had he ever developed a fixation on women's wrists? They were delicate, strong, graceful. He had loved kissing Victoria's wrists, but she had never wanted to be tied, had recoiled when he had suggested it playfully one night. Now Penny was sitting there, a mischievous grin, offering her wrists to him. He scratched at the back of his neck. Fate was cruel. The one woman he had most wanted to put cuffs on was there in front of him, and he couldn't do it. Not today.

"Copper fits you better than it fits me," he said, "Penny with the red hair." His smile lessened a little. "I would take you in- it's my job to take you in, but I'm not sure you'd survive more than a couple of hours in there. Someone was shooting at us last night- first me, then you. There are only two groups of people that might want us both dead. Your people and my people. I don't know which was shooting, although something makes me think it's my people this time. Sorry. It looks like we both have shitty friends."

She had closed her blouse, and it made it easier to talk to her without his eyes drifting. It also meant that she was probably feeling a little better. A sense of dignity was a good sign. Still, she'd been through enough trauma to lose her memory, she was probably pretty sore. He got up and hooked his shirt off the heater. It was still a little damp, but he buttoned it up anyway. His body heat would finish the job. He filled her glass with water and tossed the bottle of pills to her.

"Take a couple if you're hurting. The crash smashed the hell out of your car. It was upside down when I pulled you out."

He took out his phone and looked at it for a while. He hated to make a call, he felt like he could sleep for a few more hours, but if the FBI wanted to find them, it was better if he made the first move.

"I'm going to call the office now. If anything sounds fishy- and I mean anything- we're going to have to get out of here fast. They can have someone here within eight minutes. Put your shoes on."

He dialed the receptionist at the FBI.

"Hey Julia, it's Pablo."

"Pablo! Hi! Where are you?"

"What do you mean, Julia? I'm at my place."

"Really? Because..."

Her hand covered the receiver and he heard a man's voice, muffled, angry.

"Sorry, Pablo, can you just hold on a minute?"

"Sure, Julia. Take your time." Pablo hung up the phone, took a deep breath, and looked at Penny, and grinned. "It was my people. We're seriously fucked."

His phone rang and he turned it over and pulled the battery out of it, pocketed them both, and closed his eyes for a few seconds, thinking.

He walked quickly through the room, checking for anything either of them might have left behind. Then he opened up the Yellow Pages to the train schedules just to make them wonder, and took Penny's hand.

"Let's go, beautiful. We're both fugitives now."

It made him grin and suddenly all that tension and tiredness seemed to leave his face. It suited him, him looking so giddy and stress-free, or at least appearing to be because of the way he grinned. He looked good.
What amused her though was how he actually seemed to be contemplating cuffing her wrists. He seemed unsure now or he had other thoughts running through his head. She wondered what they could be although at the same time, she didn’t want to know. In realizing that, she slowly lowered her hands until they were resting in her lap. She crossed her legs crisscross-applesauce and in doing so, ripped the tights she wore that were already ripped a little bit more. Oh well, that’s why they say be delicate with hosiery but she kind of forgot that little detail after her supposed accident.

“Well…I mean you’re the FBI agent who wanted to arrest me. I think it suits you more than me right now.” She grinned a lazy grin and shrugged her shoulders lightly. Nodding her head, Penny was thankful that he was going to arrest her right now but a new threat posed; someone had been shooting at them apparently and it made her feel a little queasy. Twice she almost died last night and she didn’t remember. Really bad time to lose her memory. And totally unfair.

Penny could only really nod her head; she didn’t know what to say that. She was momentarily distracted as he put his shirt on, covering his beautiful sculpted torso and she actually looked sad to see it be covered. She quickly recovered when he tossed her a bottle of pills and it took a moment too long to figure out how to actually uncap the bottle. She took out three pills and then picked up her glass of water and downed them. Downing the rest of her water, she looked at him and blinked her eyes. “So the car accident really did happen. It’s not a bunch of horseshit. Well…that’s nice to know!” What a night.

While he made the call, she got up and took her shoes. She sat down on the ground and slipped her feet into the ankle boots. Zipping them up, she stood and walked over to the floor length mirror. Ooh, the shoes looked good on her. They accentuated her legs and strengthened her posture. Turning to the side, she raised her eyebrows as she checked out her body. Whoa, she was smokin’! It was so weird. It was like she was in the body of a girl that didn’t belong to her but at the same time, did belong to her because of the things she felt, like towards that Copper. She glanced at him through the mirror, hearing the ending of the phone call and turned to face him. “Why would your people first shoot at you and then me?” She asked. “Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

Letting him take her hand, she looked at him, following him out of the motel room. “I’m sorry I made you a fugitive. I promise, this wasn’t something I dreamed of.” Although compared to the dream she did have, this would be a better dream. It was like every woman’s fantasy that was straight and Agent Herrera were their type; being on the lam with the hunkiest guy ever!

Who might still have her arrested when her memory came back. It was a question she wanted to ask but she was too afraid of the answer to actually ask it. So she left with him and got into his car in time to make their big getaway.

Pablo pulled out of the parking lot and turned toward the city. "They shot at me first because I represented a greater threat than you, and because they know I'm armed and I know how to use my weapon. You have your weapons too, but as far as we know, you've never carried a gun."

He drove toward the train station, hoping they would be thorough in the room- checking for clues. He hoped Anderson was in charge. The man was thorough and slow. He was bright enough, but in a methodical, plodding way. You wanted him looking at your scene after the perpetrator was already in custody. The urgency of a chase was lost on him though.

"The question you should be asking," he said, "is why were my people shooting at me in the first place? I don't know what you think of the Bureau, but generally we're a bunch of true blue patriots who don't try to kill each other. If that's happening, there's been a serious breach- not just a computer virus, but a spy too. At least one, probably more. My guess is that someone is pulling strings at the Agency at a very high level. Who knows- maybe it's your people."

Penny's legs were inches from his hand on the gear shift lever. The shoes had accentuated Penny's legs, and he remembered how he had heard the stockings tear when she sat on the bed. If only they weren't in such a hurry. The sound had made him want to tear further- pull the flimsy fabric from her body. He had wanted to bare her. She would need every shred of warmth her skimpy clothes offered, though, and he didn't want her losing toes to frostbite if it came to that.

He dug the phone out of his pocket along with the battery and handed them to her. "Put the battery in and turn it on, then turn off both the ringer and the vibration. I want incoming calls to be silent."

He pulled into the Amtrak station and sat in the car watching passengers huddled against the cold making their way toward their trains. He chose a man with a Detroit Lions ball cap and a rolling suitcase.

"Stay here," he said, "I'll be right back."

He took the phone and caught up to the man, asked him where the bathroom was, and when he pointed, Pablo slipped the phone into an outer pocket of his suitcase. He found an ATM and pulled his daily limit again. it would be the last time for a while.

He returned to the car and took his coat off as he got in. They would be in the car for a while now. It was cold, though, so he draped it over Penny and turned the heater up. If the Detroit fan was going East, they would go South.

"The phone going toward Detroit with the train should give us a day. We can be down in Eureka by tonight. I know a guy near there that has a cabin."

He got on I-5 South and settled into a safe, unremarkable speed. He started looking for a low end diner on the freeway for breakfast. A place nobody paid any attention to anyone else.

She found it strange that his own…company would fire at him. Although she wasn’t sure if she would call the FBI a company. They were like this institution of more people like Agent Herrera. Although she doubted that they all looked like him. That’d be both cool and scary; several men walking around and they all looked like him.

Then he even said it. It was one thing for them to be shooting at her. She was apparently the enemy but why had they shot at him? “Well I was thinking it. I guess you can’t hear my thoughts?” She managed a slight cheeky grin and shrugged her shoulders. “My people, your people, our people, we’re all people. Sounds to me we’re all crooked with our own secrets.” She looked out the window, watching a cleaning lady from the motel push her cart along and going into the room they had just vacated. She’d probably clean up what they left and leave no trace of them being there. Perhaps that would throw off whoever was going to be looking for them and they wouldn’t know where to look.

Glancing over to him, she took the phone and battery, finding the little device to be so interesting. It was like her hands recognized it because she figured it out and turned it on. And even as she turned the ringer off, she spent some time learning the way of this particular device and her eyes brightened. Still, it triggered nothing in her memories although it didn’t need to. She knew it deep down, she just didn’t know it.

They pulled into a station and she handed him the phone. It confused her for a moment but then understanding dawned on her. He was going to pass off the phone to someone else and they would go another direction. She was proved right when he came back and no phone was with him. He left it with someone else without them realizing it. He really was smart. Clearly, he wasn’t given enough credit.

“Why are you doing this?” It was only once they were on the road, cruising down the interstate, that she finally asked. “Why are you risking so much? I mean surely none of this is worth it, I’m not worth it.” She wanted to ask why he even cared. “Why don’t you just turn me in? You’ll have done your job and then it will all be over, won’t it?” She looked from him and then over to the dashboard.

She leaned forward in her seat and placed her fingers on the two pictures. One was of her and she was giving a very unladylike finger to the camera and sticking her tongue out. It looked like her, seemed like her, Penny could even believe that it was something she’d do but she had no recollection. The second was of a guy and he was staring down the camera with this gaze like looking into the photographer’s soul. “Who’s that? Davitt, Daniel?” She asked. “That’s my last name too, right?”

Pablo drove quietly for a while. He left the radio on a news channel, but low so he didn't have to listen to the whole world's disasters. He knew he'd hear it if anyone mentioned anything related to Penny or himself. It wasn't until they were past Olympia that he turned off the radio altogether. They were out of the city now on open freeway that cut through evergreen forests. They were traveling through beautiful landscapes and it felt safe in the car, like they were in their own little world.

"Why are you doing this?" Penny asked.

"I've been wondering that myself," Pablo said. "Last night I wanted justice. It seemed to me that arresting you would be justice. Then, when you didn't seem to remember anything, I thought there wasn't any point in taking you in. How would punishing a woman who didn't remember what she had done be just?"

There was something ticking over in his mind now, a new possibility.

"When that agent started shooting, everything changed. Now whatever is happening isn't simple. It's not about justice any more. There's a different agenda besides justice controlling the FBI right now. What that means is that there's a possibility that there are extenuating circumstances. Whatever motivated your crimes might be explained in a different way, a way that makes them much less serious than I've thought."

He didn't say that he had been nursing a murderous revenge for the last twelve months. It had been easy to maintain the rage at Danny and Penny when they were just dossiers, but now, with Penny actually with him, he didn't sense the kind of malice he had dealt with in other criminals. He couldn't see her as a dull eyed sociopath. She was a woman who behaved rationally. He was finding a new way of looking at her. He kept looking at her, in sidelong glances, admiring the way her legs tapered into her shoes. The black stockings accentuated her shapely legs. Her hair was a color that demanded attention. That might become a problem later.

"Hey- open the glovebox and get out the radio and turn it on. We should be out of range of FBI transmissions, so if we hear something it will give us some time to react. Just leave it on. No news is good news."

She touched the pictures on the dashboard and Pablo cursed himself for leaving them there. This could make things much more complicated. He needed to be honest with her though, at least about this.

"Danny Davitt. I've been looking for him too. He's your brother. He's nowhere near as smart as you, but we can't find him either. We've been thinking that you were protecting him, keeping him safe, but now that you're with me, the FBI will probably find him pretty fast unless it wasn't you protecting him. Then we have a bigger problem. Who is protecting him, and why?"

The picture of Sueco was missing from the dashboard. Pablo checked the floorboards and saw it, face down on the floor near Penny's feet. It was just as well.

----

The sun was setting when Pablo took a numbered exit off the freeway that turned west toward the ocean on a narrow road that wound between big redwoods. He switched on the headlights and forty five minutes later he turned on to a long dirt driveway that ended at a cabin with a garden on one side. The other side had a wide lawn that ended at the edge of a cliff over the Pacific Ocean.

She really could listen to him speak. It was soothing. Maybe it was because she was still exhausted and she wanted several reasons to just sleep and try and regain some strength back with good rest; maybe even try to decipher the obliqueness of that dream she had. What was it that he did? Who was he? And had that been her? It occurred to her to maybe tell Agent Herrera about it. She wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure if it would change things. Based on what he was saying, it wouldn’t be fair to punish someone who lost their memory and couldn’t remember what they did. Did she really do bad things? Did she…kill someone?

It wasn’t exactly comforting in knowing that someone shot at them both, but namely him. It really did set them both on the lam and it made things a lot more than him tracking her and arresting her, with her memory or not. It meant that he had been betrayed and now his death warrant was signed, alongside hers. Okay, now would be a great time for some memory.

Glancing up at him, she rubbed her eyes, trying to rub the tiredness out of them, before doing as he said. She opened the glove box and pulled out radio. She held the object in her hands and turned it on and her eyes brightened like they did when she handled his cell phone as she heard voices talking to her from the radio. She peered in closer, wondering if the voices inside could see her. “This is so peculiar, strange and beyond amazing. The voices…they’re talking to me.” Although she figured out very quickly that they weren’t actually talking to her in particular because her name was not Sandra Lee Huxtable. “Oh, never mind.” She was suddenly not so interested but she still held onto the radio, although lowered the volume, setting it beside her on the seat.

Hearing she had a brother put a lot of things into perspective. Seeing his picture, even if he looked angry as all hell, she felt a pull towards him and her eyes watered for some reason she couldn’t even explain as she stared at his picture. “Well, I’m pretty sure I was not protecting him. I made the FBI top ten wanted list. I didn’t make your top five. So clearly, I’m not that good.” A light remark to hide the tears she had not yet shed just from seeing her brother. She could definitely believe that she had a brother, especially with the instantaneous way she felt in regards to seeing a picture of him when she didn’t even remember.

Sitting back, she cast her glance downwards and saw a piece of paper. She leaned down and picked it up and turned it over, seeing a picture of a man and her head tilted. “Oh, he’s pretty. He’s real pretty.” She gushed, not at all realizing it was his partner. When he made it clear that it was, she blushed. “He was really pretty. Really, really pretty, his wife sure was lucky.” And then she thought about Margie and she felt sadness for her.

At some point, Penny fell asleep and she had the same dream from last night, only it was a lot more vivid. It made a lot more sense. It was a dream of her and Danny. He was angry and she was freaking out, to put it lightly. He hit her and even in her dream, she felt the pain from that strike. It made her nearly thrash and her head turned, a small moan coming from her but it was clear she sounded pained.

He killed someone. She recalled the story Agent Herrera told about Sueco and the day he died and it clicked. Why he had the picture of her brother and then even her, why he had even gotten interested in trying to find her. Finding her might have meant finding her brother and if that was the case, he would have gotten his revenge. Her brother killed his partner and Agent Herrera never forgot that. He’s been hunting. And now he was really close.

She awoke with a start when she heard her own voice echo through her head, screaming for her brother. Penny felt very cold and even with his jacket around her, she felt like she was shivering. Even with the heater on, her nipples had never been so hard in her entire life and she was certain she wouldn’t forget that kind of sensation. It was painful.

Rubbing her eyes, she yawned and looked about, seeing as the car pulled into a driveway and a beautiful cabin before her. She looked forward and gazed at the fine work of art before her and a soft smile came to her face. A vision of her dream came back to her and it hit her like a ton of bricks, forcing her back into the seat. She glanced over to Agent Herrera and she swallowed hard. “Why did you tell me that my brother, Danny, killed your partner? That was the relevance your story had to me. That’s why you told me.” She didn’t want him to think she remembered everything. She didn’t. She just connected some dots that she would have connected earlier if she had her memory.

Deciding on a small tantrum, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked away. “You could have just said, or added really easily, ‘Oh by the way, you have a brother, and he killed my partner and I’m using you to exact my revenge.’” She did her best Agent Herrera impression but the slightness of her Irish accent made that impossible. “Bloody Coppers.” She grumbled.

And it was even worse because now, she was stuck with him.

Penny was putting things together fast. Something was going on with her memory- it was getting better, but he wasn't sure that was a good thing- not for him right now. Still, they were each other's best chance at figuring out what happened, and maybe surviving.

"Why couldn't you have just said..." Her arms crossed angrily over her breasts.

Pablo closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was tired. He had been driving for almost ten hours and it had gone quietly enough until just the last fifteen minutes. She had moaned in her sleep, and called out Danny's name before she woke up.

"Look, I..." he started, but stopped. How could he explain the dark anger and still have her trust him? "You're right." He took a deep breath and continued, "I've been looking for your brother for a year because he killed Sueco. I honestly don't know what I would have done if I had caught him though. Part of me wanted to kill him, part of me wanted to see him in jail for the rest of his life. It was so senseless- we didn't even have guns drawn when he started shooting. He laughed as he ran away, and I think that's what makes me the most angry. It was some sort of game to him."

He looked over at Penny. "You're also right that I wanted to catch you to get to him. I transferred my anger about him on to you, and that was probably a mistake. I don't think you would have tried to kill me or Sueco. I'm pretty sure you've had opportunity to kill me in the last six months and I've never seen any evidence that you have even tried. You had reason to kill and you haven't. He didn't have a reason and he did. You're different."

Pablo got out of the car and stretched. He put the keys in his pocket and walked over to the cabin door. It was empty, as he had expected. Manuel, the owner, rented it out in the summertime, but he wouldn't lower his prices for winter, so he rarely had renters then. He just didn't like the hassle of maintaining the place when it was cold. Pablo found the key under the flower pot next to the door where it always was. There were still places you could trust people, and apparently this was one of them.

He opened the door to the musty smell of a long-closed cabin and smiled. He had spent a month here after the divorce, just to detox and get some perspective. Something about the place relaxed him. He wandered around, turning on the water heater and the furnace. He checked the fridge and there was just some beer and something in a plastic container that probably used to be a salad. He tossed it and checked the cupboards. They were well-stocked with canned food. They wouldn't starve, but they wouldn't be eating steaks either.

He had an old laptop propped against a wall behind the table and Pablo wondered if Penny could get an internet connection using the satellite dish on the roof. He hadn't ever been able to make it work.

"Welcome home, honey," he said, a small grin on his face. She was still angry though, and just scowled at him. "Mi casa es tu casa." He figured he was already in trouble, so he went ahead and pushed his luck. "I'll chop the wood and fix the homestead. You cook, clean, tend the garden, do the shopping, and if you have any time, see if you can get an internet connection here. If anyone can do it, you can."

Well, at least he was honest about it when confronted. It was nice to know he just might crack under pressure or he was doing right by her and being honest when she called him out on it. Penny had mixed feelings but at the same time, even she knew she had to get over it because she was stuck with him now, the damn handsome bastard. And if it was quite possible at all, she found him even more attractive in her angered state.

Hearing the way he spoke about Danny, some part of her that was blocked because of her memory loss felt anger that he would dare speak of her brother this way. He laughed? He pulled the gun on them before they pulled their weapons on him and he killed and laughed? It didn’t make sense to her. Then again, who was she to say anything? She had no memory and she hadn’t been there to witness it. Agent Herrera witnessed it and so did Sueco and he paid for it with his life.

He seemed to feel different about hunting her. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the memory loss or because he realized that she wasn’t her brother no matter the relation. It seemed to be that he knew better and it had been unceremoniously unfair to hate her because of her brother, that finding her may be easier than finding her brother and therefore seemed justifiable in hating her and getting his revenge because he couldn’t get to Danny. It seemed she had more questions than answers. Although as he left the car, she didn’t dawdle. She left too and followed him inside the cabin, taking in the whiff of cedar and wood and it felt homey in a way.

She took in the sights when the lights were turned on and a small smile played onto her face. It was really beautiful here and even though it looked like it had not been kept well for a while, it still looked beautiful. The craftsmanship of the cabin was beautiful and immaculate and because of the wood used, there was this everlasting scent of freshness that would probably never go away. Because of the snow and the dampness, it was like the scent was more pungent than normal. She liked it.

Coming out of her heaven-like-stupor over the surroundings, she glanced over to Agent Herrera and did not find his remark cute one bit. She crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at him. He didn’t do much to calm her anger towards him until he mentioned a computer. A small huff came from her and she moved towards the laptop. “You cook, clean, tend the garden and go shopping if you like.” She cracked her knuckles and sat down at the laptop. “I have real work to do. Now be a good wife and get me a sandwich. I’m hungry, wench.” She looked at him and grinned before putting her attention back to the laptop. Some part of her felt very satisfied and she had a feeling it was the part of her that was blacked out; the naturally sassy woman with a smart mouth that often got her in trouble.

It didn’t take long for her to figure out this laptop. She booted it up and accessed the main screen. Something called WLAN was on but there was no internet connection. Everything was set up, the router and the password and even the router name was made. Penny was stumped. Everything was set up, so why there was not internet connection she did not understand one bit. She did some digging in the control panel, did some enabling, some disabling, but mostly enabling and when she tried to reconnect to the internet again, it finally worked.

A big grin appeared on her face and she sat back with her arms crossed over her chest, a very smug look on her face. And all without her memory. Well that was strange. She glanced at the time. Oh, maybe it took her a lot longer than she thought. It was interesting at how quickly an hour could go by but nonetheless she did. Standing, she went into the kitchen, in search of the sandwich she never got. Agent Herrera was in big trouble. “Wench?” The humor was not at all lost and amused her greatly.