Tell Me No Lies

by Proserpine

Chapter 1

She shines

In a world full of ugliness

She matters

When everything is meaningless

Fragile

She doesn't see her beauty

She tries to get away--"Fragile," Nine Inch Nails.

For the Rescue Rangers, it would begin with a loud pounding on the door at 2:27 AM and a mouse who kept on pulling down a tight little red dress that barely covered an expanse of shapely leg. Chip would stare at her blearily in the sudden light, wishing he was anywhere but there, preferably back in his dream, solving crimes and kissing a forties-esque film noir dame who had Gadget's face. But when he took in the blood the girl was covered in, he was jolted into reality rather rudely, by instinct and a certain gravelly voice.

"I--Romy!" She announced in an untraceable accent. "You--must help!" A ragged sob escaped from her slim throat, adding to her disheveled appearance in more ways than one. There was blood in her dark curls, and her eyes were red with tears.

Chip took her by the arm, leading her in. "Here," he whispered, concerned. "Let's get that blood off you."

"NO! Not my blood! " She insisted, batting at his paws. " Where is...the loo? I get it off myself. "

"Loo? "

"Salle de bains. Baños. Washroom. "

"Oh. Ohhh, it's down the hall and to the left. " He watched her go, then meandered into the kitchen, and, fumbling in the dark, began a pot of Earl Gray. Then, on second thought, switched to coffee. Here, he had to delve into Dale's private supply, perfect for staying up nights with Foxglove or watching cheesy horror flicks. Or, in this case, interrogation to the heart of the matter.

Chip had just settled in, waiting for it to percolate when a squeak, somewhere between absolute terror and wild despair erupted, a sound that would stay with Chip for the rest of his life. He jumped up so fast he upended the kitchen table--and a few chair-spools! And in the bathroom he saw her, trying to blend into the wall. Lounging like a thundercloud in the doorway was Monterey Jack. Beside him was Zipper, buzzing angrily but not quite sure why. The large mouse was silent, the air thick with unresolved tension and anger. Chip remained unacknowledged, for which he was inwardly grateful.

"A fine pair, the two of you. " Monty ground out.

The two of you?! Surely it's not me ...no, it can't be! Chip thought.

"Funny of you to come waltzing back now, ain't it? "

"Fine pair..."--obviously as confused as Chip himself --"...what do you mean, Monty?..."--here, an audible wince from the older mouse-- "...oh, Maman! Maxie, oh, no, she is de--not back. "

"Some 'pressing business', then? A new lover? Your father? Or some clandestine set-up she'll regret?"

"No. " Softer, more subdued." Maxie is not any of these things. She--" here she choked on another sob "is--"

"Don't lie ter me! I don't want t' deal with yer bloomin' lies! "

"Lies? " Here her voice dropped a few degrees, considerably colder. "Once you bounced me on your knee, tugged at my hair and promised us the world. You dare speak to me of lies? " It was bitter, yet matter-of-fact. "It was mostly between you and Maman. No affair of mine. " She tossed her hair, albeit haughtily. Monty went for the throat. Chip and Zipper's eyes met, and they pried the burly mouse's fingers from the girl in a group effort. She sank to the floor, gasping for air. Zipper gently led the badly shaken Monterey back to bed, and Romy allowed Chip to help her up.

~~~~~~~~~~ @---------~~~~~~~~~~

"You're okay now, right? " Chip questioned, concerned. "Do you still want to clean up? " She shook her dark head, tears pooling anew in luminescent eyes. Nor did she speak, only stood there, silent as the tears spilled down her pale cheeks, staring dumbly at the blood drying on her paws. "Here--here, would you like something to drink? " An affirmative nod, and Chip lead her into the messy kitchen, not bothering to straighten up. It never crossed Chip's mind that perhaps the girl needed something stronger than coffee, but that was harder to find and they didn't keep it in stock anyway. Well, except for that champagne left over from Foxy & Dale's wedding, but-- The heavy pitter-patter of footsteps paused Chip's musings and Romy froze. Silence again. Then more sounded. Chip tensed, awaiting a repeat of the previous scenario.

"Do we have any chocolate? " Dale's head poked through the doorway and both Chip and Romy heaved sighs of relief. Dale, blissfully unaware that he had broken the tension, crossed the kitchen and began rooting through the cupboards.

"Uh, yeah--check under the dish cabinet. " Chip hinted, and Dale pulled a canister of chocolate syrup out with a grin of triumph. "Why? "

"No reason. " Dale answered, throwing Romy a fiendish wink. "All this exertion has just been making me--ahem--hungry. " Romy nodded in understanding. Slowly, the realization dawned on Chip, and his nose wrinkled in distaste.

"Dale! I'm trying to interrogate here! Go back to bed! "

Dale appeared hurt. "I can interrogate just as well as you! Quick! What's your favorite color?! "

"I was here first! She woke me up first! "

"Well, she would've woken me up if I'd been asleep! " Dale insisted.

"Aw, Dale, I didn't need to know that. " Chip groaned. He looked over at Romy who was hiding an amused smile through her tears. "Don't you start."

"Dale? " A melodic voice came from the hall. A very pretty pink female bat with gorgeous blue-violet eyes stepped into the kitchen. "Are you coming back to bed? " Her eyes gestured to the syrup, and met Dale's seductively in an invitation a blind man couldn't miss. Then she exited, presumably back to their bed.

Dale winked roguishly at Chip and Romy. "Oh boy. " He breathed, and ran from the kitchen clutching the canister to his chest.

"Ok, " Chip said, grimacing to himself then smiling encouragingly at Romy. "Let's have it. " Suddenly, she went absolutely still, like a small animal caught in the face of oncoming traffic. Chip looked. Monty stood in the doorway And if looks could kill...it's safe to say they'd both be strewn about right now, without even a decent burial.

"He's a Rescue Ranger too, " Chip said gently. "He won't hurt you. I promise. "

"You cannot promise the will of others." After that, she would neither speak nor confirm a word.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave. " Chip rose, coming towards Monty with a resolution in his eyes.

"You're not the leader, are ya? Since when was yer bloomin' word law? " Monty demanded, the rage palpable on his rough features.

"Since you attacked the witness."

"She provoked me! "

"Nevertheless, majority rules in this case. We both want you to leave. Right, Romy? "

The girl nodded, eyes bright with a mingle of fear and sorrow. "Moishe would've wanted--does want it--this way. "

"Where is Moishe, Romy--luv? " Monty's voice was extremely sarcastic, tipped with the equally extreme bitterness the years had lent. "He's left you, I expect? Just like I left you and Maxie, just like you--she--drove me away? "

But she only offered a verse of John Keats' La Belle Dame sans Merci in return:

"...And that is why I sojourn here,

Alone and palely loitering;

Though the sedge is withered from the Lake

And no birds sing. "

~~~~~~~~~~@---------~~~~~~~~~~

"Th-thank you. " She gasped after Monty's abrupt exit, leaning on Chip's shoulder. He let her. "Merci, monsieur. " That accent bugged him, but he couldn't be sure why. It wasn't French, certainly. Nor anything of recognition.

"Here. " Chip propelling her over to a spool, still upright. The blood was congealing on the stretchy, somewhat sparkly material of her dress. It was 3 AM. "Have some coffee. " It was black and a strong odor wafted up from the mix, but Romy downed it in one gulp.

"Hazelnut? " At his nod, she poured herself another thimbleful.

"Now. " Chip said conspirationally, pulling out a scrap of paper with which to write on. "Tell me every--"

"Mack!" The squeak of relief startled Chip out of interrogation mode. A rather strong-arm type rodent(a mouse? a rat? ) had let himself in. He was clad in a rodent size suit--yes, an Armani--and was equipped with a G.I. Joe machine gun. As to whether or not it worked, Chip wasn't so sure he wanted to find out. "This is Mack. " She introduced the tall rodent with a tiny flourish. "He works for Sharp Eddie. " The nickname struck off faint warning bells in Chip's head, more or less ignored but by no means forgotten, for he was struck by something...something... (dare I say, familiar?) about the younger man. The rodent shook disheveled golden hair from his eyes, holding out a paw, which Chip shook.

"Romy..." the younger man said, suddenly sobered, holding her out at arm's length. "Whose blood is this? " But she did not reply.

Chip pondered the two mice. They were obviously comfortable with each other, too comfortable for Chip's tastes, but business was business, and the girl obviously needed help, or else she wouldn't have come. "I need to know." He whispered gently, laying a paw on Romy's shoulder, who shivered, drawing into herself. "Romy. " Here she gave a start. "Do you want help or not? "

"I'm not an informer. " Chip sensed this was important to her.

"No, you're not, " he consoled.

"I came home late from--from singing. " She substituted, going on in a brittle voice. "The door was locked, the lights were off. But Moishe never shut the lights off--he was afraid of dark. " Here she grew defensive. "But he wasn't a pansy--he wasn't! He is--was--the best thing that ever happen to me. So I home--" her English pronunciation growing worse and worse "--and I try light. It is broke. I call his name. `Moishe! Moishe! Romy home!' No answer. Well, I think, maybe he in bed and light went out, boom, black-out? I crawl into bed--warm--still warm--with blood--Moishe's blood--all over me...IF I WAS THERE, IT WOULDN'T HAVE HAPPENED. IT--HE--I--" she collapsed, on the verge of tears, into Mack's arms.

"Do you know of anyone with a special grudge against your husband? "

"He was not my husband. " Romy waved a paw airily. "No, I would not let him be. Enemies? I do not think he had any. " Here she glanced at Mack, who shook his fair head.

"Everyone loved him, Mr. Maplewood. " Something in Mack's tone drew Chip to glance at him surreptitiously. "The women. " He shrugged. "The men. Romy. Everyone. " Chip was far from believing, and stored it away--for now.

"Chip! Why didn't you wake me..." the voice that haunted his dreams cut into the conversation and trailed off tremulously. Chip turned to see Gadget, who was staring at Mack with questions in her vibrant blue eyes.

Mack rose first, crossing the room to clasp Gadget's hand and shake it heartily. "Gadget Hackwrench? Yes, I've heard a lot about you. I'm Mack. Macklin Togos. Professional hit man, at your service. "

"You're a hit man? " Chip choked out.

"In the loosest sense of the word, yes. It's complicated. What, you thought we were your everyday run-of-the-mill customers? Nah. Romy's a moll, I'm a thug, you're the law, it's a twisted world. "

"Rat Capone? " Gadget squeaked out, horror-stricken.

"No. " A black look crossed Mack's face, but was gone in another instant. "We're Eddie's. Capone's days are coming to an end." Mack crossed back over to Romy. "And good riddance! " He muttered softly. Gadget cocked her head at him curiously, studying this golden haired thug with pensive, troubled eyes.

"Well, miss, if that's all you're going to volunteer, there's not much we can do to help. " Chip ended, setting down the scant notes and rubbing his eyes with one paw.

"I told ya so. " Monty's voice loomed from the doorway, sending a flicker of annoyance through Chip. "Too-ra-loo, ya didn't think I'd let ya off that easy, did ya, luv? " He obviously had been drinking. The fumes were enough to knock over a small horse. Romy stiffened, grief changing into rage in a flickering of an instant.

"You can just--go to hell! " She screamed, flying at him, nails leaving a trail of blood across the older mouse's face.

"Still la belle dame sans merci, then? " Monterey accused, breathing bathtub gin and holding her off with one paw, "Or more like--Lolita?" and making a sordid reference. Liquid silver eyes widened, displaying a hint of blue, her lips forming a tiny O of shock, and this time she went for him again. This time, however, Chip and Gadget managed to hold her off, though it took Mack to put Monterey out with one well-aimed, most likely necessary punch. Chip was worse for wear by the time they were through--while the others escaped with minor gouges and scratches, Chip boasted a swollen eye.

"Sorry about that. " Romy cooed, laying a hand on his arm. It left a rusty brown residue. Reality kicked in, and Gadget slapped an icy rag into his palm, which he applied promptly. Eyeing Romy covertly from the corner of his good eye, Chip slowly inched away. There was a long, pregnant pause.

Here Mack uncorked a hip flask and took a long, uninterrupted swig. He offered it to Romy, who demurred almost imperceptibly. He then pressed it into Chip's paws, and Chip took a tiny sip, showing no outward signs of the bitter liquid's effects in his expression. Mack took it back, downing the dregs with an expression of his own, this time of pure, unadulterated bliss. "I've come to a few conclusions. " Mack announced, puffing up. "One, obviously Romy can't go back. They'll get her too, because of Moishe. Two, I think she should stay here until this mess is cleared up."

A clamor from all directions. Mack put up a hand. "No need to worry about confined spaces--as is, I doubt you could squeeze another body in!" He laughed heartily at his own ill-humor. "Let's see, you've got your Chip, your Gadget, your Monty[a pained expression from Romy] , the little fly guy, and the happy couple--I assume they're pretty busy, else they'd be here right now[this was said with a wink and a grin] ! --and baby too. It was in all the papers. " Mack explained away, delving again into his jacket pocket again for a mini-cigar, which he promptly lit and began to smoke. "Bringin' me to my conclusion: a switch. "

~~~~~~~~~~@------~~~~~~~~~~

Somewhere uptown, 11 a.m.

I should have drowned her at birth, Liz thought with a covert grimace at her eldest daughter, who was staring pensively out one of the much-coveted windows of their mansion(actually a three-story dollhouse) , drinking KooKoo Cola. "Tabbs! " Liz snapped, gesturing around at the mess. "We have guests coming tonight! Important guests. I want this room clean--not a speck of dust, do you hear me?"

"Who's coming--oh, wait, don't tell me--the oh so exalted Rat Capone, perhaps? " The mockery in the girl's voice was stunning, for such a gangster's daughter.

"Don't get fresh with me, daught--"

"Oh, Mumsy, let's cut the crap. You want me to clean up so you can have me impress Rat Capone. Oh, I'll impress him alright. " Tabbs discarded the straw from the cola and chugged it. She tossed the cup onto a pile of dirty laundry. "Sure, Mumsy, why not? "Maybe you should offer him some gold too, to sweeten the deal. " The mocking tone was heavy in her voice as she offered an insipid, overly phony grin. "Dare I ask why my room needs to be cleaned? "

"Listen here and listen good, you little doxy. " Liz was across the room and slapped her daughter so hard, Tabbs' head snapped back and she almost fell through the flimsy window. "Eddie himself approved this match. You were--shall we say, chosen at birth? Ordained in the womb? Either way, it doesn't matter. It will happen. "

"And him, does he know? "

"No. And he won't. We won't tell him, it's all part of a greater plan, one you should be grateful for. " By the time Liz was finished expounding, her chest was heaving, her cheeks flushed, tail limp. Tabbs stared at her mother in mingled disgust, horror, and sarcasm. "I hope you realize how important this is to your father and I. Because if not, you will. And it won't be pleasant--" Tabbs turned away "--do you hear me, Tabbs? Do you hear me?!"

Tabbs continued staring out the window.

"'I won't disappoint you, Mumsy.' Is that what you say? "

There was no reply. Liz, realizing too late she'd left her daughter with the upper hand(again), flushed a deep red.

"When's dinner, Mumsy? I'm going out."

"Seven. " Liz spat, grinding her teeth. "I want this room spotless, do you hear--"

"It'll be clean. " And with that, Tabbs exited the room, a glint in her eyes and a ghost of a smile about her pale lips.

~~~~~~~~~~@------~~~~~~~~~~

"Moishe Goldberg, huh? " The weasely-looking chipmunk in the policeman's uniform sneered, narrowing his beady black eyes at the already stiff, bloodied body. Nothing in the apartment had been touched. "Where's his girlfriend, that bitch(!) Romy Day? "

"Watch your language, Mr. Wainscot!" A good-looking rat with a mouthful of sharp teeth snapped, cuffing the errant Mr. Wainscot upside the head.

"She's not here, is she? " The 'munk sniveled, touching the side of his head gingerly. "That makes her fair game. "

"Well, she was here, judging by the paw prints. " The rat stated, brushing off his own uniform. "It's a good thing the other cops weren't called in. Then this would be a real investigation! "

"We do have to write up a report for the station, Bruce. " Mr. Wainscot replied, whipping out a mini-notebook and sliver of graphite."I think Romy did it. "

"Well, she _is_ the most obvious suspect. But Eddie don't want any of his 'boys' gettin' in trouble for this. That's what we're here for, Regg. We're his associates. You got that, dumb ass? Associates."

"Romy's still a bitch. " For this, Mr. Wainscot, or Regg if you prefer, got quite the wallop. "And she's not one of his 'boys'! She's a moll, dammit all. " He let out a breath of disgust. "She'll give it ter anybody. "

"Except fer you, eh Regg? " Bruce chuckled, unkindly. "She always hated you fer whatcha did ta Mack. "

Regg shot Bruce a dirty look, and didn't answer the taunt. "So what do I write? Suicide? "

"No, stupid. See the angle the weapon was held? No way that was self-inflicted! " Bruce pointed to the body, lying on the bed in a pool of it's own cold blood. The apartment's window's were closed, and the rooms smelled sickeningly like death. "Call it...hmm, homicide. That's all. Cause of death: pending. "

"That don't sound too professional. "

Bruce winked. "We don't have ta be. For now. "

"What about when the girlfriend comes home? "

"Oh, " Bruce chuckled, and it was unpleasant. "We'll figure out something. But let's call in the other boys and get this body cleared out of here. After all, Moishe was one of Eddie's 'boys' . And besides, we owe him a...shall we say, a favor? "

~~~~~~~~~~@------~~~~~~~~~~

"Me and you? " Chip asked, perhaps a bit foolishly and quickly. Mack shook his golden head, teeth gleaming whitely.

"Guess again, Surelock. "

Chip gazed on Mack's line of vision. "No. " He said sharply.

"Why not? "

"Well, for one thing, Gadget is a blonde and Romy has black hair--black curls! And their eyes are different shades! " Chip protested, as if that would solve everything.

"We can dye." Romy offered shyly. "And I wear my hair straight sometimes--for special things. And my eyes are sometimes silvery-blue. But that is wearing certain colors, like blue and gray or silver. Oh, and blue-violet," as an afterthought, glancing at Gadget's high-necked, lavender nightgown.

"Golly, I don't know, it sounds pretty spur-of-the-moment to me, er, Mack. " Gadget offered. "And besides, I've had bad experiences--" here she visibly soured "--with switches. "

"It will not be so bad. After all, you are undercover, yes? They do not know Romy well enough--well, not all. If you get past Dolly-Mops, you win them all, yes-no? " Romy's eyes were bright with hope. "And you find out who killed my--my--" she could not say the name. It was torn from her lips in a mixture of denial and grief. The young moll closed her eyes, the pain visible though she did not realize it. Gadget, though she had never lost a lover, had lost her father at the same age--seventeen. She crossed the room to lay a hand on Romy's shoulder, and felt silent sobs rack the girl's body, doubled over in pain. After a few minutes, Romy seemed to calm herself. "My thanks, " she said softly to Gadget. "We will switch, then?"

Gadget knew Chip wanted her to refuse. But she also knew what it was like to lose the one you loved, and to have no one else in the world who meant nearly that much to you. You must be crazy, Gadget, she thought. "Yes, " she replied. Then, more gently, "Why don't you tell me about him? And everything else I need to know? "

"Not--not here. " Romy insisted, throwing a nervous glance at Monty's inert form, which was snoring heavily. And Gadget escorted the other to her room, for what she termed "girl talk" , leaving Mack and Chip to retire to the living room, regarding one another in an uncomfortable silence.

"You're not taking her. "

"Look, I think she made that decision for herself already. " Mack answered Chip, suddenly sounding tired. "It was a risk coming here. We coulda been seen by anybody. I'm leaving with Romy safe, one way or another. Even if you have to pay the price. "

Chip visibly prickled, stiffening. "Is that a threat? "

"Depends on how you see it."

"Well, you know I'm going to have to break up this 'Mob' of yours when this case is solved, don't you? " The 'munk demanded, still on his guard.

Mack smiled condescendingly. "You may find that somewhat difficult. " The condescension dropped to reveal a cynical grin that said "dream on, detective" . It was a challenge, and Chip would accept it. But first, he had to know what--and who--he was up against. "Only the best, buddy." Mack assured the chipmunk. "We're not like Rat Capone or Fat Cat. Catch us if you can--but remember, the game begins only after ya find Moishe's killer. " Fat Cat, of course, was now deceased, having been run over by a tractor trailer full of catnip. Not much of a threat, anyway.

"After. " Chip agreed, and Mack offered him a cigar, his way of a handshake. Chip accepted it, like he knew he must, and they filled the room with a smoky silence.

~~~~~~~~~~@------~~~~~~~~~~

The first time Romy Day fell in love was also the last time. She was barely sixteen, passion twisting her insides apart like maggots in rotting carrion. Her heart did flip-flops constantly at the very thought of him, in fact, the first time she saw him, she thought she was having a heart attack. At sixteen! The next thing she'd known, he'd been at her side, asking her if she was all right and smiling at her with his big gray-green eyes and charming, devil-may-care grin. His lady friend had tugged at his arm impatiently, a washed-out looking dame of a mouse with frizzy hair and bags under her eyes, and had seen the end of passion in her life, with this young man half her age. Time to go back to her husband, an ex-racketeer who drank too much gin and liked to slap her around.

"Miss... Miss, are you feeling all right? " Romy felt the world spin to a stop in that stark reality. No one ever called her 'Miss'. They called her other things, but not that polite euphemism.

"I--I'm not so sure. " Looking up into his eyes, she was only sure of one thing, and that one thing brought her back to Earth. Or maybe it was the sour stench emanating from his lady friend, jealousy in her every breath, every heave of her chest, every imaginary dagger shooting from her eyes into Romy's heart.

"Ginger, do you have any smelling salt grains? " Her angel asked, turning at last to his female friend. She shook her head, throat closed up with grief, the loss of her golden boy making her mute to his requests. He smiled at her then, and that smile made her forget that she was old enough to be his mother, that the end of the two of them was right there in front of her, young and beautiful and pitiful at the same time, with no inkling of the prices she'd have to pay in this life alone, and Ginger knew it was time to let go.

"Yes, of course. " She replied briskly, pulling some from her beetle-sized purse and waving them under the girl's pink nose. She and Moishe helped the girl up--or, rather, Moishe did, escorting the both of them him, the girl first. When he came out of her apartment, Ginger noticed his lips looked slightly bruised, his blond curls were mussed, and he had a dazed look on his face, much like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle for the first time. But, in another instant, he was back to his old self, charming and amoral, hedonistic and fun. Chastely kissing her on the lips and walking her back to her empty apartment, where they made love one last time: Ginger, for old times' sake, and Moishe, because he wanted to get rid of the desire eating him up inside, stealthily destroying his every waking minute. But he didn't stay the night--he never had and never would, not with her, not with anyone, and this time Ginger let it be. They would never see one another again.

Two days later, Moishe had moved in with Romy. Two days later, Ginger knew a chapter of her life had come to an end.

~~~~~~~~~~@------~~~~~~~~~~

Gadget felt herself blushing, and hastily apologized. "No, you do not have to. " Romy insisted, waving a hand airily. "When you blush, say it is the heat. They will allude it to--to the--the death. " Then, briskly, she added: "Do you have any black dye?"

"Just machine oil--but Foxy(that's Dale's wife) might know something we can use."

"As long as it is before 6 p.m.--you go to Dolly-Mop meeting then, and after that, dinner party with the Boss...He is my father. But do not remind him of it unless he brings it up. " Gadget sensed this was a touchy topic, and wisely said nothing. "Now: we switch clothes." Gadget eyed the bloody dress with distaste. "But--where do you live? Where do I get picked up for this 'dinner party'? What do I wear? "

"Mack will show you apartment...wear dark blue-violet crushed velvet cocktail dress, matching gloves, black marabou and black butterfly wing slippers. Black fishnets--you will find them--and blue-violet lace lingerie. " Romy waved airily again. "It is all there and also clean. Laundry was done yesterday. Any questions? "

"Who are the `Dolly-Mops' ? "

"It is a 'club' , shall we say, that I am in? Chiquita is the youngest, she is fourteen, Laura is the blonde bombshell, Yvette is the auburn-haired 'munk, and Angela is the brunette. You will find that Yvette and I are the most solitary, Laura likes to flaunt her lovers, and Chiquita has ambition, while Angela is very strong inside. Her solid man is Tony "the Knife", and he loves her to distraction, even though she is quite plain." Romy paused as to take a breath. "That is all I can tell you. You will have to discover rest on your own."

It was a different mouse that emerged when Gadget looked at herself in the mirror. This one, with straight black hair and vivid blue eyes, was not afraid of anyone or anything., instead she was tough. She was a survivor. She practiced the walk, hips that called come-hither, and the sultry eyed look. The accent was harder to master, but she practiced it with Romy for all the hours she practiced all else, and it came also. When she strutted into the living room, Chip's eyes about popped from his head, as did the other Rangers' , who were also waiting patiently. Foxy was quick to divert Dale's attention, but Chip gawked openly at the upright swell of her breasts under the fabric, while Zipper let out a low whistle and the groggy Monty scowled disapprovingly.

Romy wiggled in, clad in a pair of Gadget's shorts and tank top that Chip had certainly never seen. "Voila. " She laughed, sweeping her arm in a wide arc towards Gadget. "She is me, non? "

~~~~~~~~~~@------~~~~~~~~~~

In the backstage of The Gilded Cage, NYC's Lower East Side

"I call to meeting the Dolly-Mops! Here, here!" Yvette called to the other small mammals, perching on the edge of her vanity as she filed her nails. Her fellow females looked up at her, and continued whatever it was they'd been doing before. "Ok, who's missing? "

"Laura." A young teenage mouse squeaked, tossing her hazel-colored hair and buffing her nails.

Yvette shrugged, perfectly made up and composed as always. "She'll make it. She always does, eventually. "

"No, I heard from Tony that she and Willie went on a cruise because Willie's wife went on her Europe tour." Angela looked up, a quick smile beautifying her nondescript features like sunlight on a prism.

"The...Romy. Who's seen Romy? "

There was a horrible silence. Then, Angela found her voice.

"You...don't know, do you? That's right, you've been out. "

"Know what? "

"Moishe was found dead in their bed--...their apartment. And Romy is gone. Disappeared. "

A hush settled over the vanity room.

"Well, I wouldn't put it past her. " The fourteen-year-old muttered.

"Chiquita! " Angela cried. "She loved Moishe!"

"For all his philandering?" Chiquita leapt up, venom dripping from her tone. "He was worse than Daddy, even! "

"At least Moishe was going to marry her!"

"Romy knew Daddy wouldn't marry her. " Chiquita pouted, lower lip trembling. "Just like I know Eddie won't marry me. "

"With your mother, do you think your father'd dare? And with Eddie, well, do you think Abigail doesn't know? I wouldn't put it past her." Angela shuddered involuntarily. Sometimes I wonder who's really in charge--him or her. "

"Angela! Shush! You never know who hears you, and before you know it, you wind up dead. " Yvette shushed. Chiquita smiled feebly. Yvette shrugged at the other two, subtly changing the subject. "You know, the law gets handsomer and handsomer every year..."

"Noooo...Yvette, you're not serious?! "

"Dios, you are serious! " Angela gasped, slightly amused.

Yvette preened, smiling wickedly. "He is a man, of course I am!"

The story "Tell Me No Lies"; all characters and situations presented in this story are (c) Proserpine. The characters, such as--Romy Day, Maxine Day; Betsey Togos, Macklin Togos, Moishe Goldberg; Richie "the Saint", Liz "the Harridan", Richie Jr., Tabbs, Chiquita; "Sharp" Eddie, Abigail, Gus "the Narc"(von Demos' all), Aletna; Tony "the Knife"; Angela; Laura; Yvette; "Fast" Willie, Carmenita, Lily, Bernd, and whatever other poor sap I happened to include, like unnamed characters, sycophants, hangers on, yaddayaddayadda you get the picture.

Routine Disclaimer: Chip, Dale, Gadget & Geegaw Hackwrench, Monterey Jack, Zipper, Foxglove, Rat Capone, Tammy, Bink & Mrs. Squirrel(or Hazelnut, whichever you prefer) and the show "Chip -N- Dale's Rescue Rangers" are all and will remain property of Disney. I have used them without permission, but please don't sue me, I'm in college & have no money. I wrote this in high school.