The Oncoming Storm

by The Shay-Shay

There's a storm coming, and not everyone's as prepared for it as they think they are. The Storm Hawks are coming to town and trouble isn't too far behind them. Better batten down the hatches!

1. Prologue: Imaginary

The Oncoming Storm
Prologue: Imaginary

Disclaimer:I do not own the cartoonStorm Hawks. It and all its respectable characters are © to Asaph "Ace" Fipke and Nerd Corps. Lupin and all plot contents within are © to me. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I don't own them.

Summary: There's a storm coming, and not everyone's as prepared for it as they think they are. The Storm Hawks are coming to town and trouble isn't too far behind them.

Note: Yeah, I'm back. I guess. Let's go with a cheesy title too, while I'm back at it for the time being.

Re-revamping of The Oncoming Storm, formerly Fringe, which was formerly Insomnia. Including plot devices, characters, Lupin herself, so on and so forth. On the note of Lupin, she's become such a separate entity nowadays, she's really not me anymore, she really isn't. She's incredibly, entirely different. I hope she's enjoyed better this way. I just feel awkward nowadays with the self-insert stuff. :P

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This is a work of fiction. All characters in it, human or otherwise, are imaginary, excepting only certain of the fairy folk, whom it may be unwise to offend by casting doubts on their existence. Or lack thereof.
- Neil Gaiman

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The garage smelled of a combination of motor oil, burning rubber, coffee and the occasional whiff of cigarette smoke. An old school boom box, complete with a CD and cassette tape player, was currently playing loud classic rock, a mix tape of the classics of the 80's and early 90's. The quality wasn't the greatest in the world, but the tape inside was well cared for at the very least, having lasted as long as it has. A bin of more mix tapes sat next to it.

Competing in the noise department alongside the music was the sound of a power tool whirring and buzzing from underneath the hood of a second generation Chevrolet Camaro. It was painted a rather brazen yellow, complete with sleek black racing stripes. The paint job itself looked recently done, although it was dull from not having been properly waxed yet. The windshields were slightly dusty, but could still be seen through properly. The interior looked worn but plush and comfortable from years of use.

A young woman was standing over the exposed car's engine, handling the power tool, while the sun shone outside on the city of Los Angeles, bright and clear. It was a warm late summer day, but she donned a pair of grimy, doodled-on jeans despite the heat, alongside a pair of heavy steel-toed combat boots. Her top was a little more appropriate, a worn black tank top with an oil or grease stain here or there, while an equally dirty bandanna hung out her back pocket. A weathered leather belt hung around her hips, carrying varying drill bits, tools, bolts and nuts, and other miscellaneous items she may need.

She was short, slim and lean in stature, with a hint of muscle tone, showing she was in rather decent shape. Her skin was tanned from being exposed to the sun for long periods of time, and her hair was dark brown tipped red and pulled into a ponytail. All in all, she looked rather normal…if it weren't for the varying scars along her arms, her face, and shoulders, along with the wolf ears twitching atop her head and the bushy tail poking out her backside, that is.

Foot traffic moved along sluggishly outside the open garage bay door she worked out of, while cars continued on their way as well. Kids would occasionally stop by, listening to the music, watching the young woman with the tail and ears. Two children stayed the longest, whispering and giggling as they stared at the swaying tail and twitching ears. When the noise the two were making was finally noticed after she cut the tool's power off, she glanced over her shoulder at two gaggling children. She eyed the taller boy, no older than ten, and jerked her chin at him.

"Martinez, does your mother know you're down here? You know she doesn't like it when you wander around this street."

The little boy and his sister laughed. The boy shifted his backpack on his shoulder.

"You're not Ana's or my mother, last I checked," he countered smugly.

"No, I ain't, but I have her on speed dial and if you snuck out again instead of doing your homework, I'm sure she'd be very interested to hear where you're at right about now."

She reached for a phone in her tool belt and waggled it tauntingly. The curly-haired boy stiffened and his little sister, just a slip of a girl in a pretty little sundress, gasped, clutching his hand tightly. Martinez clenched his jaw.

"Already done."

"Okay, then let's work on your times tables. I know you need help with them. Git in here, both of you. I don't want some idiot to abduct you and me ending up the main suspect. Jesus. Use some common sense, kiddo."

She turned toward a workbench, carrying the power tool with her and whipping the power cord along the ground and out of the wall. The little girl darted forward with a giggle and grabbed the tail end, picking it up as she trailed after Lupin. The older woman patted the girl on the head and thanked her, piling cord and tool on the table. Martinez found a wheeled chair and collapsed into it, slumping. He dumped his pack beside him, and Lupin caught sight of the familiar Avengers décor art on the back of it. Ana dropped her My Little Pony backpack beside it.

"You suck at math, Lupin."

"Better at it than you, Mr. Summer School. I got college on your skinny butt too."

"One time!"

"One's enough, trust me," Lupin clucked her tongue at him. "Now. Eight times eight."

"Sixty-five."

"Wrong."

"Wrong!" Ana parroted with a giggle. Lupin crossed the cramped garage floor to a mini-fridge and pulled out a Capri-Sun and bag of fresh carrots, handing them over to Ana, who was still following after Lupin. The little girl set to work on the drink immediately. Lupin led her back around to where her brother was.

"How's it wrong? It's right!"

"Count again."

He scowled.

"Hey, it's either sit here with me or I personally send you straight home. I'm a lot faster than you. You run, I'll catch you."

The ten-year-old grumbled some more before relenting and began counting under his breath. Then he answered, "Sixty…four?"

"Good. Seven times four."

"Twenty-six. I mean, twenty-eight!"

"Right. One-forty-four divided by six."

"That's not fair!"

"Division is very fair, you're supposed to know this, just like your multiples."

"I hate division."

"I hate it too. What's the answer?" Lupin continued dispassionately as she picked up a tool from her belt, changed out the bit size she needed and turned back to the engine. Ana settled beside her, standing on her tippy-toes to peek at the carbureted engine. She looked at Lupin with wide, pretty brown eyes and smiled when Lupin glanced at her, a carrot between her lips. Lupin patted her head again as she set to work on the carrot in earnest.

"It's twenty-four," a new voice called behind her. Her ears twitched.

"Good, now what's a hundred and ten divided by eleven?" Her mind was somewhat still there, while another part was focused on tightening up that one last bolt and then she'd be done to finally move on to changing the bloody oil, replace the battery, and—

Wait. That wasn't Martinez, was it?

She straightened and twisted to look over her shoulder, narrowing mismatched eyes at the newcomer's voice. Damn. Not paying attention. Not a good sign. You're slipping, Marine.

Leaning on the side of her garage bay door was a slim young man, fit and lean and built like an athlete, to be truthful, although he also looked fresh out of high school. She was sure there was more muscle under the t-shirt and jeans he was wearing, too, never mind the sight of his arms. Broad shoulders, sunny blond hair, bright blue eyes, and a winsome smile that appeared too smug for his own good…

She disliked him on sight.

Immediately, the thought of a womanizer came to mind. She knew the type off the bat and frankly, couldn't stand men like him. Only reason she didn't go batting for the same side of the fence was because women were too fucking crazy to predict. At least men were easier to predict and fool and manipulate.

Well, most of the time.

Not to mention she could smell every lust and horny-filled hormone wafting off the guy. That didn't help matters much. It didn't pay being a werewolf sometimes, it really didn't, but it wasn't like she was born this way or asked for the bloody curse…

She eyed him for a moment longer and he allowed another beat to pass after that before pushing himself off the wall, venturing a few steps closer. "Try a harder one. Pretty sure I can nail it."

Lupin didn't answer right away. She glanced down at Ana, who was watching the stranger with shy interest while Martinez was looking back between her and the blond-haired man. She put herself between Ana and the young man. Her tail bristled and her ears remained ramrod straight on top of her head. She noticed he shot an occasional glance toward them, before landing back on her face.

"Can I help you? Oh, wait. I can't. This isn't a working mechanic's garage."

"Looks like one to me."

"It's my home. I live here. Meaning it's private property and you're intruding."

The smug smile deflated a little and he coughed, looking a bit embarrassed. "Oh, uh. I'm sorry, I didn't know. I just assumed…with the…car and all…"

"Don't ever assume things. Always double check," she paused, loosening her clenched jaw slightly. "I can point you in the direction of a good shop a few blocks from here. Decent prices, I know the owner. Mention my name, might even get a nice discount. I used to work there in high school, left on pretty good terms with the old man."

"Uh, thanks, but I was actually looking for you. Wait, just to double-check, your name's…hold on, I got it here somewhere…" He started digging through his pockets, yanked out a wallet and began filing through it. Lupin saw the large wad of green sticking out the edges of it and her eyes widened before she darted forward and yanked him further inside.

He cried out, and flailed his arms before a split moment later she realized he was trying to put her in an arm bar. She broke the piss poor attempt and got behind him, threw her arm around his neck, bringing him down and applied pressure. He kicked his legs and gagged, one hand yanking at her arm, the other pushing with his wallet still in it.

"Ya know, I had you pegged for some kind of idiot, but you are a moron on epic proportions. Shut up, stop struggling, and get inside. I'm not robbing you," she hissed in his ear, easily hauling him inside from sight.

"Oh, yeah, right says the crazy woman putting me in a headlock! Get off me!"

"Ana, go to my room. Martinez, close the garage door and go with her."

"But—!"

"Do it or I'm calling your mother!"

Martinez picked up his pack and his sister's, took her hand and went to the bay door switch to close it off. The door creaked and groaned and screeched, but finally got going after he hit the button. Martinez hesitated, looking between Lupin and the young man before tugging Ana along with him and up a set of metal stairs to an office-space-turned-bedroom. When the door closed up there and the garage door settled as well, Lupin released her prisoner.

He stumbled away and leaned on the work bench, his free hand going to his neck. "What in the name of Atmos is your problem?! What did I do to you to deserve that treatment?!"

Lupin gave pause at that. Atmos? That sounded familiar, but the moment was fleeting and she rolled her eyes, flapping her hand at him. "Put your damned wallet away, you gorram moron. D'ya know what kind of neighborhood you're in? What city you're in? This is Los Angeles. Not the sunny, bright, fun-in-the-sun Hollywood and Beverly Hills part of the city, no. You're in the I-will-shoot-you-in-your-face-in-broad-fucking-day light-for-the-ten-bucks-in-your-wallet part of the city. You don't go flashing that much cash in places like this." She huffed, straightening her shirt out, then began wiping her hands on the bandanna from her back pocket. "Only reason I'm being nice like this is because I don't feel like having someone shoot you on my front door. I don't want to clean up the mess and have the cops here."

"You call that being nice? You nearly choked me to death! I was just trying to double-check your name! Sheesh, you could've ruined this handsome face. And I'm pretty sure I can take on just about anyone."

Great. Not only was he one of those good-looking blonds, but he was adhering to the dumb blonde stereotype as well. Fan-fucking-tastic. He snorted and straightened, and he was definitely taller than her, but he watched her more warily now. She was fast and he knew it now. Good. He was that smart, at least.

"Oh, like you took on li'l ole me? I barely reach your shoulders and I took you down like taking candy from a baby. Your technique sucks. Plus, not much good you'll have in hand-to-hand when you're up against a dumbass with a gun."

"My techni—your technique sucks! Come at me again, I'll be ready this time! You just caught me off guard, is all."

Oh, childish, too. That was lovely. She gave him The Stare. Everyone knew it or should know it at least. The one you gave to your friends when they asked or said something stupid. There was a more intense one you gave to complete strangers, of course, because they were strangers. There was also the one you gave to a family member when they made a rather dull joke and they're the only ones laughing. The Stare was universal. It should be taught to people to be recognized in schools, in her opinion. Maybe there'd be less stupid people in the world if it was. Or maybe that was just her sarcasm speaking.

He stared her down for a few more beats, before realizing she wasn't playing his game. He sheepishly backed down before looking down at his wallet, still clenched in his hand. He looked back at her again and frowned. He opened his mouth to speak again, but a barrage of pounding on the door to the garage opposite the bay door sounded off, alongside muffled shouts. A name. Finn. She raised a brow at him. "Lemme guess. You're running in a pack."

"A what? No, that's…gotta be my squadron. Er, Piper, actually. Mind letting her in?"

She studied him for a moment longer before turning to answer the door. It was located on the other side of her vehicle, between the bathroom and the metal stairs that led to her makeshift bedroom. She paused on her way to the door, saw Martinez and Ana watching her and the blond man from the open doorway. "Martinez," she called and he jumped in surprise. "You got your cell?"

He nodded.

"Get back inside and call your mama, have her come pick you up."

"But Lupin—!"

"Do it now or I'll call her. Your choice."

He grouched before disappearing back into the room, tugging Ana with him. The door slammed close. Satisfied, she moved on to the entrance to her garage. From the outside, it was located in the alleyway, seemingly innocuous and flimsy. On her side, however, Lupin hadn't spared the expense of letting it stay that way. She had it reinforced by deadbolts, locks and chains. Her bay door was similarly locked down for the nights. She didn't like or trust the neighborhood all that well, but the rent for the garage alone serving as storage and her makeshift apartment was easier on her paycheck. Water and electricity was included, practically for free, although she lacked a working kitchen. But that was what friends were for, though. Benefits! Plus, takeout wasn't half bad most of the time, at least. There were lots of variety in a city, and plenty of choices to pick from.

Lupin pulled a slot on the door back, getting a view of the alleyway beyond behind a wire mesh. A young and pretty dark-skinned woman stood on the other side, orange-yellow eyes staring back, and her thick hair so black, it had an almost bluish sheen to it. She was reminded of her aunt's hair for a moment. The other woman took a moment's respite in her pounding and stared back, surprised before rolling her shoulders back, looking at Lupin through the mesh. Saw her eyes move toward the fucking scar on her face and her tail bristled. She stifled the growl she had building up, trying to appear as casual as she could.

"My friend was looking around your garage a few minutes ago and now he's gone. He didn't come by here, did he? Tall, blond, loud-mouthed?" Her eyes were narrowed in suspicion, like she already knew he was there.

Lupin snorted, already throwing the various locks off. "Yeah, talks big, but can't back it up? Thinks he's such a lady killer?"

"Sounds like Finn," she consented, looking somewhat relieved. Lupin threw the hatch back on, unlocked the door, and opened it. She motioned her inside, getting a whiff of the woman's scent mark. It was easier and simpler to gather intentions from a simple sniff of a person than to spend time talking to them. Hormones and emotions were worn on them like a second skin, always changing and fluctuating on the outside, but their foundations the same. Liars and conmen were easy to pick from a lineup of honest citizens. Ill intentions hiding behind a sickly sweet mask were like a beacon. The nose never lied. Neither did animal senses.

And so far, she didn't smell anything wafting off the woman, or the young man. A bit odd, and she picked up on odd scents that didn't quite smell human—other beasties like herself, maybe?—but none of the ill-intentioned, turbulent emotions she could pinpoint easily on the fly. Lupin followed at a distance behind the woman, hand resting on one of the handles of a Phillips screwdriver in her tool belt like the handle of a knife, muscles still tense.

Just because she couldn't smell bad intentions, didn't mean they wouldn't occur. Her nose wasn't perfect. Others were good at hiding themselves, skilled liars, and while she doubted these two were in that caliber, you never knew. Unpredictability was a very human trait and her complacency and reliability solely on her sniffer could get her hurt or worse, the kids upstairs.

"There you are! Jeez, Finn, what'd you do this time?"

"ME? She's the one who jumped me and dragged me in here and locked me up!" The young man, Finn, pointed accusatorily at Lupin. The young woman glanced back at Lupin, who only shrugged.

"I already told him why. Lesson number one, pumpkin? Don't flash big cash in shady neighborhoods like this. You'll get shot and then I'll be very unhappy because I'll have cops crawling all over the place, and blood all over my garage floor."

The woman assessed her a second longer than Lupin would've liked, before tilting her head in Finn's direction.

"Finn…"

"What? I forgot her name. I had it in my wallet."

"Second lesson, dearie? Keep important paperwork out of your wallet so you don't get shot while rifling through your money-riddled wallet. Or stabbed, that's even more painful. Trust me. And it'd be less messy for you," Lupin shot off breezily as she moved across the lot to reopen her garage bay door. Her ears swiveled at the sound of her bedroom door opening. She pivoted and pointed at Martinez, who was sticking his head out. "Get back inside, I'll call you down when your mother's here."

He groaned, was about to slip back inside, but paused as a trio of cats came running up the stairs and into the bedroom. She heard Ana squeal in joy right before the door closed, muffling it. Lupin went back to the engine, still trying to appear casual when in reality she was coiled and tense, ready to spring at a given notice. Again, recognizing these two were probably no more a threat to herself than a fly was to a horse, she still had two others to consider. Just because she couldn't get hurt, didn't mean they couldn't.

Regardless, she could still appear casual and on the alert while working. She bent back over the engine, working on that damned bolt. Too much strength, she'd strip it and then she'd be up shit creek without a paddle. She didn't think she had an extra of that size.

"So, is she the one," she heard the young woman, Piper if Lupin recalled correctly, asked.

"'She' has ears, and it's kind of hard to miss them. You can also ask her whatever it is you want. I'm still in the gorram room."

She noticed the sheepish expressions from the corner of her eye as she gently coaxed that one nasty little bolt to loosen. Damn, it was stuck on there good. She really didn't want to risk ripping it out or stripping it.

"Right. Sorry. Um, you probably already know, but he's Finn and I'm Piper. And I'm guessing you're Lupin, and we…kind of need your help."

"Like I told your buddy earlier, I'm not a working mechanic's garage, this is my home. I live here. I don't exactly have a receptionist and a price listing here for labor."

"We can pay you," Piper insisted before adding, "and your friend Bear said you'd help. He's the one who referred you to us."

That gave her pause. Bear? Her buddy Bear? She straightened up, stashed the tool back in her belt and wiped her hands on her bandanna again.

"Bear sent you, huh? What exactly did he say?"

"That you're a pretty good mechanic and you could help us out with…a problem with one of our vehicles. We don't have the parts."

"Take it to one of the shops around here. Or elsewhere, I don't care."

"But we can pay you. You saw how much Finn has, and there's five of us. We all have about the same on us each."

Lupin snorted, but that too gave her pause. That was a lot of money. And that kid had at least a couple bloody grand on him. That was some very big cash to be carrying around. And there were only a few ways she could think of could get someone that much money in a very short amount of time.

"You drug smugglers? Because I don't deal with that shit."

"What? No! We…we raced. We won this cash in street races."

"Illegal street racing, you mean," Lupin countered pointedly. The small, nervous exchange between the two of them was all she needed and she sighed. "Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me. I do it from time to time myself. Or I did. Some dumbass drunk driver T-boned me and my baby here. Had to rebuild him from the ground up."

She gave the car an affectionate pat and sighed again at the surprised looks.

"It looks almost new."

"I know people. And I take care of him."

"Apparently."

Lupin turned back to the engine again. "Look, if you think I can be bought that easily, you're wrong. If I was that strapped for cash, I'd just go win it myself when I get my boy back up and running."

"Please, your friend said you could help."

Lupin almost groaned. Persistent, weren't they?

"Look, I don't know what Bear promised I'd do, or said I might do, but I'm not about to go off on your word alone." She paused and could almost kick herself for being curious now. "Why won't you take your problem to a local garage?"

"We need parts for one, and we don't trust public mechanics, for another. It's…a bit private."

"So you go under the radar for repairs and supplies. And you met Bear, by chance I'm assuming, so he pointed you guys to me. Wonderful," Lupin surmised. Assuming they were also truthful, and so far, she couldn't sniff out any deceit from them. She pinched the bridge of her nose and muttered under her breath, "Smart ursine bastard."

"So you'll help?" Piper looked hopeful, and so did Finn.

"I didn't say that," Lupin stated firmly before adding, "But…I will agree to see what the job entails to. I need information before I just go blindly jumping into a job. Data, data, data, I cannot make bricks without clay."

In truth, Lupin really wasn't thinking about the money. She knew how to survive on bare minimum, and often spent as little as possible if she didn't need to. She wasn't one to aimlessly waste her money and neither was she greedy enough to be blinded by every flash of green that sailed her way. It didn't mean she wasn't completely impervious, however.

Every bit could count and if they were willing to pay. She'd be fair in her commission, if she took the job. She couldn't say the same for the parts they may need, though. Some companies were just plain greedy.

"That's fine, we can take you over to—"

A car horn interrupted Piper, cutting through the air with a shrilly noise. Lupin excused herself and called out to the kids. They came popping out from her bedroom, rushing down the stairs. Lupin escorted them out and saw them to their mother's beat up Honda Civic. Maria, their mother, leaned out of the window, looking tired but thankful.

"Thank you, sweetheart, for watching these two. Really, I don't know why they come here every day, but I'm glad you put up with it. Here," she smiled, and offered a small wad of cash to Lupin. "I should be paying you if they're going to keep this up."

Lupin hesitated, then shook her head.

"Maria, I couldn't. Really, it's nothing. I just don't wanna see them gettin' hurt around here, is all—"

The woman reached out and pushed the small wad into Lupin's chest.

"Take it. Lord knows you need the money to find yourself a better place than this. Young girl like you shouldn't be living out of a garage. You should be in a nice apartment somewhere. Every bit counts, right?" The woman smiled, dimples appearing in her cheeks, warm brown eyes crinkling at the edges.

Lupin reluctantly tucked the money away, heeding her own advice to make sure no one saw it. Maria hesitated before adding, "You know, we do have room at our place…"

"I'm fine. I can manage here. Promise."

"Are you sure?" Maria looked unconvinced.

"Yeah. Listen, I got guests over right now, Maria. I don't mean to cut this short…"

The older woman clucked her tongue, but nodded and they bid one another good bye. The kids waved at her from the backseat. Lupin watched as they drove away before turning back inside.

Finn was poking around her Camaro, admiring while he had his hands stuffed in his jeans pockets. Piper was overlooking a few books Lupin had scattered here and there over her work benches, most of them car repair manuals. One of them, however, was for a motorcycle. Piper held it up to Lupin when she saw her approach.

"Do you ride these?"

The question took her aback for only a moment.

"Used to putter around on dirt bikes as a kid. Got pretty good at it," she admitted. "I have one. A street bike, I mean. But I never really rode it much. It probably needs a lot of repair and maintenance, though. It's…somewhere in here."

It had been a decent investment, right before her first deployment. After she had stored it away during her time away from the states, she never really took it out after she got back. It's been sitting in her garage since.

Piper's expression crumbled just a little as she put the manual back.

"So, are we gonna do business or what?" Finn came ambling up, hands still in his pockets. Piper crossed her arms loosely over her chest, looking at the werewolf expectantly. She sighed.

"If I see it as a sound investment that ain't gonna get me shot in some back alley or something, then I suppose we will. And if I can get the parts. Some might be harder than others."

"Of course, we're not going to cheat you. You'll get paid, and most of what you'll need is basic parts like you would for any bike."

"Well, right, but you never know, there's also deliveries and shipping problems, not to mention—wait. Did you just say 'bike'?"

The two exchanged looks, then trained their gazes back on Lupin.

"Yes, I did," Piper answered. "We did mention the repairs were for a bike, right?"

The older woman stared, a bit flabbergasted.

"You want me…to do this sneaky repair job…for a bike?"

That certainly changed things.

The two nodded. Piper smiled knowingly with white, even teeth. "This isn't just any old bike, trust me. It's…pretty out of this world. Not exactly one of its kind, but close enough," she said cryptically. Finn grinned.

"You definitely won't see it anywhere else. Trust us."

Trust them?

She was hesitant to do so now.

"I rarely work on bikes, if ever. Hell, I rarely work on my own. You sure you want me near it?"

"We have someone who can help out. Truthfully, we need parts and someone to procure them without arousing suspicion. The fact that you happen to one your own bike only helps believability."

Lupin frowned, not exactly sold on that logic. Why couldn't they just walk into a store and get their own parts, even bare essentials? They seemed and even smelled sincere, but it could be a rather clever ruse. Or a trap. But why go through all this trouble when they could get someone more gullible? Things weren't adding up.

"Okay, I'll see what I can do, but I choose the place of repair and when I do it. I have a job and school. I don't exactly bum around my garage, working on my car all day."

If she controlled some aspect of this job, then she had some advantages. And some was better than none.

Piper exchanged another look with Finn. A wordless conversation seemed to pass between them before a silent agreement was seemingly reached.

"When's the soonest you can start assessment? I mean, we already have a list of things that we know for a fact need repair or replacement, but you might see things we missed."

The older woman thought on this, crossing her arms as she leaned against the side of her car.

"Tomorrow afternoon. Y'know where the warehousing district a couple miles just west of here, close to the highway?"

"Yeah, we're actually pretty near there," Finn answered. Piper shot him a look. It didn't escape Lupin, but she said nothing on it.

"The one closest the closed highway ramp. Be there around sixteen-hundred. Erm. Four o'clock, I mean."

And thus, it seemed the negotiations were at an end. The two left, leaving Lupin alone in the silence. It was only then that she realized her music had turned off, probably sometime when the kids had arrived. To steady her jitters, she set to work putting on a fresh pot of coffee, strike up a cigarette and switch out a new mix tape.

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