***

"It's raining today, sir," I pointed out kindly when I noticed that the boss had left his room without a jacket.

"I know," he said plainly. At that moment I opened my mouth to suggest that he take a jacket with him, but I shut it as quickly as the thought crossed my mind. I had made a mental note to keep quiet, and I was going to follow that line of reasoning. I wasn't Spike's mother, after all. Taking a couple quick steps to catch up to him, I followed the boss down the hallway to where a group of syndicate members were waiting for his instructions.

"The deal is being closed today, correct?" He asked the nearest captain. The man nodded gravely and Spike gave a sound of approval. "Make sure you return to your posts before nightfall. I'll deal with Tsung on my own if we get double crossed," Spike advised them. Saluting obediently, the captains dispersed like a cloud, all heading in different directions to begin their dirty work. Once everyone was out of sight, the boss turned to me with a playful grin.

"Well, shall we?" He asked as he opened the door for me. Taken back, I hesitated in the doorway.

"Um, shall we what, sir?" Spike scratched his head in disbelief.

"Can't you loosen up? You're stiff, kid. Come on, we're going out on the town," he urged, shoving me out the door to where a stylish red car was waiting.

"Sir, it's only one o' clock in the afternoon. Who goes out on the town at this hour?" I demanded as politely as possible.

"You've obviously lived a sheltered life," Spike retorted. With a sigh, I followed the crime lord to the vehicle parked out front. Despite the chauffeur's feeble protests, Spike took the driver's seat and I sat beside him. Tipping the man generously, the boss encouraged the driver to take a day off, and by 'encouraged', I mean told. Slipping on some sunglasses despite the foul weather, Mr. Spiegel put the keys in the ignition and revved the engine before pulling onto the road.

"Where are we going, sir?" I wondered as we began to speed towards downtown via the highway.

"The best bar in town, of course," he answered without any thought. I groaned audibly, but thankfully, Spike ignored me. Why he would want to party on the day of a major drug deal was beyond me. I was sure that the ISSP, cops, and various bounty hunters would probably be hanging around in the hopes of catching some of the action, and we would be in the thick of it. Unfortunately, it wasn't my job to offer advice, but to follow. I had been employed to do anything Spike Spiegel wanted me to do. If he told me to jump, I was to say "how high?" That's the type of world I had bought into, but with no family and no job, I had limited options for survival. Joining the Red Dragons just happened to be the most convenient choice for a military academy drop out to earn a living. I couldn't afford to complain.

Parking a block away from the Piña Colada Strip Club and Bar, we stepped out of the car and into the drizzling rain. Spike lifted his face to the sky and closed his eyes for a brief moment before moving in the direction of the building. I followed after him as casually as possible, but I couldn't help but be a bit jumpy. At the front doors, a bouncer gave us a once over. Spike flashed him his best smile and he waved us both in with a grunt. Anyone connected with the underground knew Spike on sight so getting into a VIP club was never a problem.

Much to my surprise, the club was packed in spite of the time of day. Pounding music overpowered the sound of the rain outside. Inside the Piña Colada it was always night. Multicolored lights flashed in the darkness, illuminating a large dance floor where people stood chest to chest and back to back. Large cages and poles hanging from the ceiling were occupied by scantily clad women, and a full bar stretched the length of the back wall. Ignoring the rave and strippers, Spike made a bee line for the nearest open bar stool. I followed suit while my senses were bombarded by the sights, sounds, and smells surrounding me. I had to push through the crowd to get to the boss and by the time I caught up with the clan leader he had already ordered a drink. I stood aloofly off to the side and surveyed the people in the crowd to pass the time, all the while allowing the smoke from hundreds of cigarettes to wrap around me like a blanket.

Suddenly, I caught a glimpse of a woman standing in between two men on the dance floor. Like the strippers above her, she too was scantily clad in thigh high stockings, electric yellow booty shorts, and a matching vest. Her shoulder length dark hair swayed with the music and her hips rocked in time to the men around her. They gazed upon her with ravenous eyes, almost as if she were a piece of meat as opposed to a human being. The sight sickened me although I knew it wasn't uncommon, but then I saw something that really surprised me. The woman's hand reached subtly into the pocket of the man beside her, pulling out a wad of cash. She slipped the bills discreetly into her shorts without the man even realizing it. I smiled in amusement. So, she wasn't as slutty as she appeared—she was just out to make some money. Honestly, who could blame her?

"Find something you like?" Spike teased as he sipped his beer. I jumped; surprised that he had noticed my distraction without even looking at me.

"Not really, sir," I said, flushing in the process. The boss glanced at me out of the corner of his eye before downing the rest of his drink. Then, he turned to look in the direction I was facing, scrutinizing the crowd. When the lights flashed just right, the beautiful woman I had been watching moments before stood in the spotlight. Spike said nothing, but I felt the atmosphere shift ever so slightly. Turning back to the bar, Spike slid the empty glass towards the bartender and ordered another. Curiously, I looked from him to the woman, wondering if he had recognized her. After a few minutes at the bar, Spike stood and motioned for me to follow. We left out the back entrance and proceeded to return to the car. After standing in the deafening club for an hour, the sound of the rain was eerily quiet.

"Done already? You aren't even tipsy," I accused him begrudgingly.

"So?" Spike challenged, his eyes flashing dangerously. My words caught in my throat and I lowered by head apologetically. Spike sighed and let his irritation slide off his black like the rain falling from the sky. We drove back to our main headquarters in silence, with Spike speeding the entire way. Once on the highway though I realized that the same car had been following us for the last fifteen minutes. Squinting, I was able to identify the driver as the same woman we had seen in the club.

"Sir…"

"I know," Spike confirmed before I even spoke. I sat back in the seat, unsure of what to do next. The woman didn't appear to be dangerous, but then again, looks could be deceiving. "Grab the wheel," Spike ordered. Before I could comply, Spike climbed out of the driver's seat towards the back.

"Woah!" I yelled, grabbing the wheel in my panic. The car swerved and Spike was thrown into the back seat. Quickly righting himself, he pulled down the center seat and crawled into the spacious trunk. Now in charge of the steering wheel, I nervously maneuvered through cars while constantly glancing in my rearview mirror. The woman was following all of my moves with ease.

"Hold still," came Spike's muffled command from the back. His long legs were all I could see of him when I looked back. I quickly realized that some sort of weapon must have been hidden in the trunk. Syndicate members always needed to be prepared for potential assassinations. At that moment we reached a long stretch of highway with no cars in front of us. I merely maintained my speed as the woman behind us increased her's. She drew ever closer, but once she was within fifty yards, her front tire exploded. She hit the brakes and violently swerved off the side of the road into a ditch. Meanwhile, Spike crawled backwards out of the trunk space and neatly closed the seat. He sat back and closed his eyes as if nothing had happened as I continued to drive.

A few minutes later we reached headquarters. As we exited the vehicle the driver from earlier approached us. He had been asked to park the car in the garage. "Make sure they thoroughly clean the sniper in the trunk," Spike muttered. No surprise showed on the chauffeur's face. He merely nodded and said that it would be done. I followed Spike back to his suite. Neither of us said anything although my mind was buzzing with questions. Who was the woman? Why was she after Spike? How did he know her? By the time we reached his door, however, I had asked nothing. I kept reminding myself that it wasn't any of my business… but then I realized something.

"Why did you shoot her tires? You could have easily killed her," I pointed out. Spike turned towards me with his hand on the door knob.

"Popped tires are easier to explain than dead bodies. It's not smart to kill people needlessly," he explained. I cocked my head to the side, still not thoroughly convinced.

"But aren't all of our snipers untraceable? I heard that they're all specially made—

"Hey kid, can you get me a beer?" Spike asked abruptly. Thrown off, I had no time to answer as Spike quickly slipped into his room. I sighed when I heard him lock the door behind him. Why would he want a beer when we had just come from a bar? Irritated, I sauntered off to go find him one. I also made a second mental note to learn how to keep my damn mouth shut.

***

It took me two hours of searching the building top to bottom before I finally found a single beer. It had been stashed away in someone's personal refrigerator in a generally unused section of the building. I didn't know how long it had been there or who it belonged to, nor did I care to find out. Grabbing it roughly, I tucked it under my arm and hurried back to the boss's room. I was almost positive that he had forgotten all about it by now, but I was determined to relay my entire search to him just so he knew that I was the most devoted assistant he would ever have. Yeah, I was pissed.

As I approached the master suite, I began to hear voices. Although I wasn't sure exactly what they were saying, by the tone and speed at which they fired back and forth, I could tell that someone wasn't very happy. When I knocked on Spike's door the talking stopped abruptly. "Who is it?" Spike's calm voice called out.

"It's me, Shinji, sir," I announced.

"Who?"

"Your assistant!" I reminded him tersely. The door opened, revealing Spike himself. A quick glance behind him revealed several of the top captains in the syndicate, all of whom looked bewildered and frustrated. Spike looked as if he were to ask me a question, but as soon as he spotted the beer under my arm he pulled me roughly inside.

"About damn time. You're the slowest assistant I've ever had," Spike commented, as he downed a beer. After a couple of seconds of staring at him in disbelief I realized that the beer he had just finished was none other than the one I had found for him. When did he snatch it out of my hands? Tossing the empty bottle onto the floor, he turned back to the captains. "Now, back to the problem at hand—

"Sir, that's just it, there is no problem!" One of the captains protested. Spike shook his head forcefully from side to side.

"That's not possible! Tsung has a record of double crossing every person he's worked with! Why would this be any different?" Spike demanded. It surprised me to discover that the angry voice I had heard in the hall had been his. What was going on? A couple of the captains exchanged looks before another man answered him.

"Sir, have you ever considered that you might be the one person who Tsung doesn't want to cross? The Red Dragon syndicate has built up quite a reputation in this city because of you," he reminded him. With a frustrated groan, Spike dropped back into the sofa behind him. His fingers danced thoughtfully across the back of the couch. The captain warily continued his argument. "Sir, why is this so upsetting? Isn't it a good thing that the deal went off without a hitch?" Spike's head suddenly snapped up to look the captain in the eyes.

"No! It's not good! Have you ever heard of an honest crook? I sure as hell haven't! Damnit, of all the times to be true to your word! Aagh, Tsung, you bastard!" Spike exclaimed as he jumped to his feet. "Everybody out!" The crime boss finally determined. The captains all rose and filed out of the room one by one, most of them still perplexed. I also turned to leave, but Spike stopped me. "Not you, Shitty—

"Shinji!" I corrected him angrily.

"Whatever boy, you're coming with me," Spike announced gravely. At that moment I wished that I had given up on finding the beer after the first hour.

***

We relocated to the top floor. The sun had just begun to sink behind the horizon, setting the city skyline aflame. It looked as if the buildings were slowly burning to the ground. Spike paced back and forth like a caged beast. He had placed a cigarette in his mouth, but it seemed as if he had forgotten to light it. "Sir, what's the matter?" I asked after ten minutes of watching him turn in circles.

"Things didn't go as I planned, that's what's the matter," Spike spat. He had a plan? I thought to myself. Registering my expression as one of doubt, Spike finally stopped pacing and took the time to light his cigarette. After taking a couple of puffs, he turned to look me in the eyes. "Can you shoot a gun?"

"Yes sir, I was in the military academy once," I admitted. Spike paused before asking me another question.

"Why'd you drop out?" His silhouette stood against a backdrop of red and orange lined skyscrapers. I could barely make out his inquisitive look.

"Once my mother died, I had no reason to continue. I only decided to join the military to provide for my family. I was the only son in a family with five kids. My bastard of a father ran off when I was little. He had too many debts that he couldn't pay. I've been working all my life just to survive… but when no one was left, I decided that I was going to finally start living for myself." I was rambling. Why the hell was I talking so much? I was sure that Spike Spiegel had no interest in my life story.

"You call joining a crime syndicate living for yourself? What sort of fucked up logic is that?" Spike wondered as he turned to face the window. Balling my fists at my side I glared down at the ground.

"I don't know, but what I'd like to know is why a crime lord would be so disappointed that his deal went perfectly. What sort of fucked up thinking is that?" I asked, mimicking his words. When I looked up, Spike was staring at me, one side of his face painted red with the fading sun, and the other half covered with shadows. Slowly, he smiled.

"Sometimes, things have to go wrong before they can go right," Spike explained. He threw something at me and I caught it in mid air. Looking down into my hands I saw that he had given me a pack of cigarettes. Walking across the concrete to where I stood, he offered me his lighter.

"Sir, I don't smoke," I said sheepishly.

"You do now," was his response. He pulled out two cigarettes, one for himself, and one for me. We placed one each into our mouths before he lit them. After I first inhaled I sputtered for air, sending myself into a coughing fit. "You feel that burn?" He murmured. I looked at him, my eyes watering. "It hurts now, but soon it'll get easier. You'll burn from the inside out, but you won't even feel it." He turned and began to walk away. "After you finish that, meet me downstairs. We're going out tonight," Spike announced. I watched him walk out of the room like I had so many times before, but this time was different. This time his steps were light. He faded into the darkness, as weightless as a shadow.