Chapter 7: Spies and History

Hands ached. Feet burned. Knees shook. Back muscles knotted. His sore arms drooped just from the stress of tensing up whenever anything else hurt. Joey shuffled painfully into the small health room, which was just a place where the shelter kept the medical supplies. He rummaged through a couple drawers, found the fresh bandages and antibiotics, pulled them out, and sat on the table. One by one he bit the wet bandages from his hands and tore them off.

He held up his shaking hands and examined his wounds. Red, raw, ripped, swollen, puffy, skin white around the edges. He cursed and groaned, and fumbled with the antibiotic cream. He winced as he twisted the cap, the serrated edged cutting painfully into his tender skin.

Tricia walked by and stuck her head in the door. "Hey!" she yelled critically. Joey glared at her. "What are you doing? Who said you could stop?"

"I'm changing my bandages!" he fumed at her. "They keep getting wet."

"We've got more dishes. Hurry up." She turned on her heel and left.

"Hate you..." he mumbled under his breath.

Tricia stormed back into the room. "What did you say?" she demanded.

He lowered his eyes. "Nothing."

"No. You got something to say, young man, you say it!"

Joey burned and stared at her. He didn't answer.

"I'm WAITING!"

Joey threw the ointment aside and stood up, holding his torn hands up to her. "WHAT DO YOU WANT? LOOK AT ME! IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?"

Tricia folded her arms over her chest. "What do you think I want?" she asked sternly.

"I'm doing everything you're telling me to do!" he barked at her.

"You're not doing it fast enough."

"I HURT! I'M IN PAIN, OKAY?" he yelled. "ISN'T THIS ENOUGH?"

Tricia studied him as he stood there with his raw, red hands held straight out, showing her his wounds. She sneered at him.

"Yeah. Nice little Christ-complex you've got going there. Practically a stigmata." She turned on her heel and left, calling out "Stick around! I'll get you a crown of thorns."

Joey watched her storm away and he shrieked, spun around and slammed his hand against the table in blind fury, black sparks pouring from his hands and eyes. An intense bolt of pain shot up his arm as his wounded hand slapped the table, and he crumpled over the table, collapsing as the agony overtook him. He screamed and gritted his teeth, trying to endure the shock, and cursed at himself for his own stupidity.

Tricia returned immediately. He looked at her hopefully, searching her eyes for anything like pity, concern, or remorse. But she just glared at him and tossed a couple rubber kitchen gloves at him.

"Here. Put on fresh bandages, and put these on. Then get back to work!" And she left him.

Tricia stormed out the front of the shelter, let out a shriek of fury and frustration of her own, and plopped down on a chair. "What the fuck is TAKING him so long!" she muttered to herself. She rubbed her face and took a deep cleansing breath, trying to calm herself down. "He should have figured this out by now."

A short wave of nausea rolled over her, and she groaned, holding onto her chair. People on the street warped and shifted backwards and forwards for a couple seconds as she lost her center, and she concentrated, trying to restore normality. Need to meditate! she reflected. Haven't done that in a while. Once she got everyone else walking normally again, she pulled out her cell phone and checked her digital watch. Her watch was fast by about six minutes. Damn! I'm in debt again. How is this happening?

The front door opened, and Gus stepped out. The old blind man shuffled slowly towards her as she put her cell phone away. "Hey, Trisha-disha! What's the word?"

She smiled, relieved to see a friendly face, and patted the seat next to her. "Hey Gus. How's it hangin?"

"To the left! HA!" He chuckled and took the seat next to her.

"You wouldn't happen to have any cigarettes on you, would you?"

"Now shit, girl! You know you shouldn't be touching those things!"

"Yeah. I know. Just a moment of weakness. I'm having one of those days."

"Well, don't worry 'bout it. You get used to 'em."

Tricia chuckled to herself and shook her head. She rubbed her face, groaning. "Arrrgh. Gus, what am I doing?" she moaned. "He's not learning! He can be so damned thick-headed! It's been two days, and he should have figured out what I'm doing. But I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't be so..." She turned to him. "Do you think I'm doing the right thing?"

Gus pondered the question for a moment, and took a deep breath. "Woman? How DUMB do you think I look?"

Tricia balked. "What?"

"You think I'm a damn FOOL or sometin'?"

"No!" she defended. "I just wanted to know if..."

"Because I tell you! I ain't NOBODY's fool!"

"I'm not saying you're a fool! I just wanted to know if you thought..."

"Girl? Listen! I am a sixty-seven year old, blind, black, BUM, livin' in a white man's world. And you know how managed to get to be sixty-seven years old? By not doin' DUMB things! And the DUMBEST thing any fool can do is get between a mother and her boy! Shit! I am NOT getting between you and Joey!"

"I'm not asking you to get involved or anything!"

"Good! 'Cause he's YOUR fuckin' responsibility now, not mine!" He held his hands up. "I ain't touchin' him."

Tricia rolled her eyes. "Fat lot of good you are..." she mumbled.

"Damn straight!" Gus muttered, rocking in his chair. "I ain't helpin' you. You got yourself into this, you take the responsibility."

"You're the one who got me into this!"

"Now don't you go puttin' this on me! You were the one askin' everyone on K street if they had seen dat boy. No. I just point you in the right direction."

"Look. All I wanted was a word of encouragement."

Gus shook his head. "Damn girl! What do you think I am? The 'Magic Negro' in the fuckin' movie of your life? Fuck that shit!"

She cocked her head. "Magic Negro?"

"Hollywood term. All them damn movies about some rich white dude who don't know how good he got it until he fuck it all up and land hisself in jail or sometin', and suddenly he's in the same place as a black dude, and this black dude tell him what he's doin' wrong, so he cleans up his act. Like the black dude in jail got hisself some magic advice that can turn a white man's life aroun'. But it don't work on HIM! No! Fuck that shit."

"Well, I'm hardly a white guy," she said, glancing down at her impressive chest.

Gus nodded. "You got dat right." He grinned. "Say. Why don't you go back in the bathroom and get naked like you use-ta. That always cheer you up!"

Tricia smiled, recalling his optical telepathic ability. "Cheers you up too."

"Dat true! Dat true." Gus rocked and smiled as he chuckled to himself.

She took a breath and sighed. "Gus. You've known him longer than I have. So I need to know something. Did you teach him how to fight?"

His smile vanished. "Girl? Now why you ask me dat? Like you want put the blame on me?"

She shook her head. "No. I don't want to blame you. I just want to know what you taught him. So I know what I'm dealing with." She cocked her head at him. "Did you teach him to fight like that?"

Gus shook his head. "Nah. He learn to fight by watching others. It can get rough on the streets. When you fight on the streets, you fight fo' your life, not just to prove a point, like you the biggest, baddest kid in the school. Nah, I just taught him how to hide. How to find food and clothes. How to read people. How to know if you in a bad situation and get yourself out." He paused a moment. "The boy knows how to live on the streets. If he thinks he's in a place dat's not right for him, he'll leave."

Tricia nodded. "Yeah. He's still with us."

"So he still wit' you, right?" He cocked his head. "Girl? You let me ask my question before you answer it!" Tricia bit her lip, and he continued. "Anyway, he be learnin'. He knows he got it good wit' you, so he ain't leavin'. And you doin' the right thing. I see mothers who keep their kids all locked up tight and I see mothers who let their kids run loose, and I seen both kinds of those kids turn out both right and wrong. So I don't think it really matters how much you let him do. Now, what he needs to know is what you won't take. You lay down the law, and he respects it. But he's at that age, you know? When he wants to learn, but he don't wanna listen? So he's watchin' you."

Tricia shrugged. "Well, that's nothing new. He's always watching me."

Gus nodded. "True, but he be lookin' at yo eyes more than yo big titties these days. Dat mean he wants to know what you be thinkin'. So he be learnin'." He took a swig of whiskey. "You ask me, he's a damn fool fo' not lookin' at yo big-ass titties," he mumbled to himself.

She smiled to herself. "Time?"

Gus nodded. "He needs time." He paused, and continued. "Dat right. He needs time to figure out this shit you doin' to him."

Tricia frowned. That last exchange sounded kind of awkward to her, like so many that had happened before. She realized she had just hiccuped, responding to something before he said it. Time, she wondered. Who said that first? Me or him? It's almost like Time was talking, telling me what I needed to know.

Gus took another swig. "Aw shit! Now look! You got me goin' and doin' that whole 'Magic Negro' crap, givin' you advice and shit!"

She slapped his thigh and gave him a friendly squeeze. "You can't help it, Gus. You're too wise and too good."

He chuckled. "Now you just watch where you put yo' hand! That lady will probably want to catch you doing something dirty wit' me!"

Tricia frowned and looked about the street. "What lady?"

"Coffee shop. Left. She be takin' pictures of you."

Tricia looked across the street towards the left, and saw the coffee shop. She saw several people inside. She scanned the people. "Which one?"

"Blond," he said. Tricia saw two blond women in the coffee shop, and focused her attention on them. One had a white shirt, and the other wore blue. "White shirt," he clarified. "Nice legs."

She focused on the blond in the white shirt across the street. "She's taking pictures?"

Gus nodded. "Of you. I can see her focusing on you. Got her camera hidden under a newspaper."

"God damn paparazzi!" Tricia cursed. "I thought they lost interest in us." She narrowed her eyes in anger. "She's just waiting for me to do something undignified."

Gus took a swig. "So, what'chu gonna do?"

"I'll take care of her."

Tricia stood up, straightened out her clothes, and took a few steps into the street towards the coffee shop. Then she pointed directly at the photographer. "HEY! YOU!" she yelled across the street. She made an extremely rude gesture. "FUCK OFF!" The woman in the coffee shop startled, packed up her stuff, and left the shop, getting on her cell phone.

Tricia casually returned to her chair next to Gus. He took another swig.

"You call dat dignified?" he asked.

"I really don't care right now," she sighed.

Adamantine stormed down the street carrying her purse with the camera in one arm, and holding her cell phone to her ear. She listened to the ringing tone, and then the cold voice of her partner came on line.

"Yes?"

"She made me," she reported. "I don't know how she did it, but she made me."

"What happened?"

"I was just watching her through the camera screen, and she saw me. I was across the street, inside another building, camera hidden, but she still made me. She yelled at me. Told me to fuck off. I don't what I did wrong. I'm leaving the area now."

"That is unfortunate, but it was also unspecific. Do you think she knew who you were?"

"No." Adamantine shook her head as she talked on the phone. "She was too antagonistic. Like she was dealing with a normal. No sense of caution."

"So she does not know what you are, but she may recognize you when you approach again." He paused for a moment. "Is the boy still with her?"

"Yeah." She glanced back to see if she was being followed. "They came in this morning, but I haven't seen him leave. I just saw her step out." She stopped. "I can take her."

"That is not our plan."

"Your plan is insane. You don't NEED her! She's just a normal. I can take her out. I'll approach her. She'll recognize me, come out to confront me, and I snap her neck. Then I grab the boy and..."

" ... and have half of EarthGuard on you in the next moment," Tombspawn chided her. "No. We do this slowly. We do this right. And we both get everything we need."

"I don't HAVE as much time as you do, dead man!"

She could practically hear Tombspawn grinning over the phone. "Learn patience from the dead, my dear Adamantine. Come back to the hotel. I have discovered a potential ally in the city, but we will need a specific resource. We have some work to do tonight."

The elevator doors opened on the fourteenth floor of the Watergate Apartments, Foggy Bottom, Washington D.C., and Annie rolled out into the hallway. As she made her way down the unfamiliar passage, past floral portraits and seascapes, she checked the door numbers. "Fourteen-oh-one ... Fourteen-oh-three ... Fourteen-oh-five..."

As she pushed her chair forward, a faint sound caught her attention. Somewhere ahead of her there was something unfamiliar; a rhythmic squeaking, interspersed with a clapping noise. At first she thought it sounded like someone slapping a puppy, and her heart froze at the thought that someone would treat an animal so cruelly. But as she got closer to apartment 1415, the sound clarified itself.

The squeaking was definitely a girl's voice, and the slapping resolved into the unmistakable signature of skin hitting skin. There were a few quiet grunts and groans underpinning the squeaks and squeals and slaps. Annie blushed when she realized what it was, and who it was.

Oy! Thissss ... is a bad time, she thought to herself. Definitely not a puppy, but it could be doggy-style. She checked her calendar on her phone, then double-checked the time and date. Emily, I made an appointment!

She sighed heavily, and decided to give her a couple more minutes.

The muffled squealing and squeaking turned into chants of passion. "Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh yes! Oh yesss! Yes! Yes! Yes!" Annie sighed again and waited, hearing the noises move from one part of the apartment to another. There was the occasional crash of some object being pushed off a table or shelf, thumping noises, squeaking furniture, grunting, groaning, and straining. But the chanting was continuous. Her eyebrows moved in odd positions as new sounds emerged; buzzing and whirring sounds, rattling, and the odd burst of bells.

Bells?

To pass the time, Annie pulled out her phone and played a quick level of Sudoku. The passion sounds continued to emit from the apartment, making it difficult for her to concentrate on the game, and she checked the time again. She groaned, and blew out a breath of exasperation. Oy. Shoym. How long is this going to go on?

An elderly woman came walking down the hallway. The woman looked at her quizzically. Annie smiled back sweetly as the pounding, slapping sounds echoed in the hallway along with the passionate bursts of exaltation.

"YES! OH YES! FUCK ME! FUCK THE SHIT OUT OF ME! YES! YES! YESSSS!!!"

"Good morning," Annie said to the woman. The woman eyed her curiously. Annie just nodded her head towards the door. "Just waiting my turn."

"OH GOD! OH FUCK! YES! OH FUCK ME BABY! FUCK THAT HARD COCK IN ME!"

Annie watched the woman as she took in the door, the sounds, her, and her chair. She shrugged at the woman and held up her hands in resignation. "Fine. You got me! I already had my turn. He fucked me GOOD! That's why I brought this." She slapped her chair. The woman's eyes went wide, and she immediately retreated down the hallway towards the elevator. "Wait!" Annie called out. "Did you want a turn? He's really good and not that expensive!" The woman disappeared around the corner. "No? All right then."

She blew out another breath of frustration and stared at the door. The slapping and squealing sounds still continued, and showed no signs of stopping. "Sorry Emily," she said. "But I did make an appointment."

She rolled up and pounded her fist hard on the door. <BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM> "OY! SHOYM! ENOUGH ALREADY! FINISH UP, WILL YOU? A SHIS OYS IN GLEIKH AROYS!"

The pounding and whining sound shifted, and there was a thump on the door from inside the apartment, followed by more rhythmic thumping against the door. "Who? Who! Ooh! Oh! Oh!" called the female voice on the other side. Annie saw the light change in the peephole, and she reached up towards the small opening, waved her hand across it, and pointed downward while whistling loudly.

<WHEEET!> "OY! DOWN HERE!"

The door thumped a couple times, and opened a crack. Snow Angel's face, head, and naked shoulder appeared, peeking out behind the door as she grasped the door and frame. Her eyes were glassy, her face flushed, and her hair disheveled, and she was bouncing as shockwaves of pressure hit her repeatedly from behind. Her long hair whipped back and forth, and she was breathing heavily, her breath frosty and visible.

"Oh! Annie! I uh ... Oh! ... Um..." She looked surprised, then looked back behind her, and back out the door again. "Is it eleven yet?"

"Past," Annie managed, her mouth gaping open at Snow Angel's audacity of opening the door in mid-coitus.

"Oh. I'm sorry. Um. Just a minute!" She closed the door.

Annie convulsed, shaking her head quickly in recovery. Did she really just do that? she wondered, and sighed and rolled her eyes as she heard Snow Angel and her current lover shift positions.

"We have to finish now," she heard muffled through the door.

"Don't want to stop," came a muffled, gruff, masculine voice.

There were some kissing, smacking sounds, and she heard Snow Angel respond. "You can do it. One more! Give me one more big, hard, Texas ride! Bronco style!"

The pounding immediately intensified, and Snow Angel let out a squeal of ecstasy as the door shook against the frame. <THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP> Annie's eyes widened as she saw the door shaking from a continuous assault on the other side.

"Oy. Leman a shem. You've got to be kidding me."

"OHHH! YESSS! OH GOD! OH FUCK ME! THAT'S-IT! THAT'S-IT! YES!" she screamed. Her lover was grunting and roaring. "FASTER! FASTER! OH GOD SO GOOD! YES!"

The pounding rhythm picked up, getting faster and stronger, and Annie saw beads of water collect from condensation on the outside of the door in the distinctive shape of a female back and butt and drip down, shaken off by the continuous drumming from the other side. A light mist drifted out from underneath the door. Cold radiated, chilling the air in the hallway.

Annie looked left, and then looked right, and cautiously pulled her chair back a couple feet.

<THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP> "YES! YES! YES! OH GOD YES! I'M GONNA! NOW! NOW! NOW!!"

"Cumming!" urged the male voice.

"NOW BABY! NOW GIVE IT TO ME NOW! AAAAIIIEE!!!"

Snow Angel screamed, and Annie jolted in her chair as a blast of green light erupted from under the door and through the peephole, accompanied by a fanfare of magical bells and tones. A web of ice grew over the door and across the walls, and then fell, shattering on the floor.

The scream died, and was replaced by an ever diminishing series of gasps and moans, and the green light fluctuated and fell. Annie stared in shock as she heard a few indistinct whisperings and gigglings, followed by some thumping activity.

A minute later the door opened wide, and Annie saw Snow Angel in all of her naked glory. "Hhhiiiiii..." Snow Angel slurred, posing at the door, drunk in afterglow. "Come on in, Annie!" she giggled.

Annie turned her head and held up a hand, blocking her view of the naked girl. "Oy! Emily! Put something on already!"

The emerald sorceress giggled and gestured, and a loose icy-white négligée materialized over her form. "Better?" she asked, spinning and posing. The frosty fabric blossomed around her as she spun.

Annie carefully peeked back at her, and dropped her hand. "Much better." She cocked her head, admiring the design. "And actually, quite nice."

Snow Angel smiled broadly and curtsied, kicking both legs up behind her. "Why thank you! Come on in!" she said playfully, and she gestured and floated back to allow Annie to enter the apartment. "Sorry for the..." She started to say, but winced. "Okay. Not sorry for the delay, but sorry for making you wait."

Annie nodded and looked at the floor. Chunks of ice blocked the way in. Snow Angel saw them too. "Oops! Sorry. I made a mess! Boy, do I make messes! Let me get that." She waved her hand towards the ice chunks dismissively. "Shoo! Shoo! Go away!" The ice chunks flew away as if hit by an invisible broom, and evaporated into snowflakes. "Okay! Come on in!" she said, floating backwards. "Can I get you something to drink?"

Annie cautiously pushed her chair forward, her eyes distracted by the flurry of activity in the rest of the apartment. Toppled vases were standing up, books floated back onto shelves, lamps repositioned, and flowers floated and inserted themselves back into vases in artful arrangements. Everything was rearranging, tidying up the place following what appeared to have been a tornado of activity.

"Yes. Anything," Annie answered in a blank, stunned voice as she rolled into the colorful apartment. She watched the objects moving about, and blinked her eyes a couple of times, mesmerized by the magical activity. "How did you get your apartment to-OY!" Startled, she threw one hand up and blocked her view of the naked man and his penis.

"Howdy ma'am."

"Umm ... Hi," she answered awkwardly, looking in the other direction from the naked man and his penis. Blushing terribly, she stammered "Um ... Sorry for disturbing you. I didn't know she was having ... um ... company ... over."

The naked man and his penis chuckled to himself. "It's all right. I reckon we needed a reason to stop."

"Well. Um, I'm glad I could ... help. Be of service." Annie blushed and swallowed, still holding up her hand and blocking her view while looking in the other direction. "Could you like, holster that weapon?"

Snow Angel returned from the kitchen with two glasses of wine. "Oh Annie! Stop being such a prude!" she said, handing her a wine glass. "Annie, this is my new friend Daryl. Daryl, Annie."

"Pleasure, ma'am."

"Shalom, and mazl tov." Annie managed to get out, still not looking at him or his penis. "Um, listen. I really feel uncomfortable about this."

Snow Angel giggled and scrunched her face towards Daryl, gesturing to him with a 'go-to-it' motion. "Why don't you go find your pants, cowboy?" she snarled playfully.

Daryl grinned and looked about confused. "I don't rightly know where they've gone off to."

"Oh! Just check my closet. All the clothes tend to wind up in there."

Daryl chuckled and hobbled off to Snow Angel's bedroom. Snow Angel watched him dreamily and made little grabbing gestures as she admired his naked ass. "Ooh, yes! Love that ass! Yum!" She spun around and let out a "Whooo!" as she drifted across the room, her feet dragging across the shag carpeting, leaving little trenches in the little-used flooring. "Don't you just LOVE a hard cock? I just love that tingly feeling in my fingers and toes after a good, hard cum!"

"Yeah, um ... I'm a big fan of it myself," said Annie, cautiously lowering her guard and looking back into the rest of the room.

"SO! It's so good to see you again!" she said sweetly, and she plopped on the couch, sipped her wine, and put her glass on the end table next to a box of Whitman's samplers. "We really should get together more often! Come on over here!" She patted the couch. "So how are things going for you?" She took out a chocolate, and bit into it.

"Not apparently as good as things are for you." Annie looked about, trying to figure out how to push her chair forward with one hand holding her glass of wine. "Is there some place I can put this?"

"Hmm?" she said, chewing.

"My drink. I need both of my hands free."

Snow Angel looked puzzled for a second, and then figured it out. "Oh! Um. Sorry. I'm not used to that. Just put that anywhere."

Annie looked around her, confused. There was nothing nearby to put the glass on. "Um, where?"

"Just let go of the glass."

"Nu?"

Snow Angel held her hand out and opened it wide. "Let go. Just let go."

"Huh?"

"Open ... Hand ... Let ... Go," she said, grinning, and flexing her fingers closed and open again.

Annie processed this for a second, remembering all of the flurry of floating objects in the room earlier, and cautiously held the glass out far away from her. She watched it carefully as she opened her hand. The glass dropped about an inch, and hung in mid-air next to her outstretched hand.

Her eyes widened in amazement. "Oy! Now THAT is COOL!"

Snow Angel giggled in pride, and Annie watched the floating glass for a moment. "It's not going to spill, is it?" The superhero shook her head. Annie continued. "That is amazing," she said, and pushed her chair forward towards the couch. The glass of wine followed her like an obedient puppy. "That is like really handy. I could use something like that at home. Can you set us up with something like that?"

The sorceress chuckled delightfully. "Umm ... Not that easy. I could put something together, but it needs constant adjustments. It could turn real 'Sorcerer's Apprentice' on you in a hurry."

"Boy, did I get the wrong roommate! I could get used to this level of assisted living." She frowned at the superhero. "It's not like you need it! You should do more stuff for yourself."

Snow Angel scrunched her face up a bit. "I know, but it keeps me in practice with spells. And it's so much more fun to do spellcasting than housework. So what's up?" She sucked the chocolate off her fingers. "Did you want one?" she asked, gesturing to the chocolates.

"No thank you." Annie's floating wine glass nudged her shoulder, and she glanced at it, and gently pushed it down to the coffee table. "And um ... I actually wanted to talk to you..." She nodded her head towards the bedroom. " ... but in private."

Snow Angel raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Why Annie. I didn't know you thought of me like that," she giggled.

Annie balked. "No! Not like that. I'm serious. No, I want to talk to you, but not in front of your new shikseh-krikher. This is kind of ... official business."

"Oh, poo!" Snow Angel made a face, and she glanced over at her bedroom door. She pulled one leg up and hugged her knee. "Okay, I'll get rid of him," she sighed, and she glanced back at Annie. "Do you need me in costume?"

Annie stared at the ceiling. "No, but I would prefer if you put on some underwear."

"Oopsie!" She dropped her knee, took a quick sip of her wine, and floated off the couch. "Back in a jiff!" And she swooped out of the room, and swung into the bedroom.

Annie waited and tried not to listen into the hushed conversation that spilled from the bedroom. She sighed as she looked about the room, noting the wine glasses and the chocolates, and she overheard the words "honey", "sorry", "love", and "wonderful". There was some kissing sounds, and some rustling of fabric. Just about at the point when Annie started to worry that the fabric rustling sounds were those of clothing being removed, Snow Angel and Daryl emerged from the bedroom arm in arm. Annie was relieved to see that he was fully dressed.

"I really think we have something here," he was saying. "I want to see you again."

"Shh-shh-shhh," Snow Angel shushed him, and kissed him. "It was a wonderful night, and I'll always treasure it. But we have to part now."

"But I..."

"No." She shook her head. "This was just one night. Now you take my love, you take what I taught you, and you share it with others, okay?"

"Snow..."

She kissed him goodbye. "Find someone else now. Make her happy. That will make me happy."

Annie watched Daryl's face fall, and he nodded in resignation. He kissed her goodbye, and stepped out the front door. "Friend me," Snow Angel called to him, and she closed the door. She turned and leaned on it, and took a deep cleansing breath. Her face had a moment of sadness, followed by a warm smile.

"You know, you didn't have to get rid of him THAT much," Annie offered.

Snow Angel sighed and shrugged. "Oh, this had nothing to do with you. No, he was just a fling. And a nice one too!" She kicked both feet against the door, pushed herself into the living room, and floated down to the couch. "So! What's up?"

Annie took a deep breath and collected some strength. "Okay. Here is the thing. I still feel indebted to you."