(short) Chapter 2

On Helga and Lesser Specimens of the Female Species

The bus belched smoke and rumbled away, leaving two people with no idea what to say to each other.

            Toddlers rarely have this problem.

            "Who you?" came the demand from the boy in Lila's arms.

            "I…Arnold." said the man of that name, then realizing that would mean nothing to the boy added, "I guess…I'm your uncle.  Uncle Arnold."  He looked back at Lila and promptly lost his voice again.  "Uncle Arnold" sounded strange to him.  But he liked it.

            Lila raised an eyebrow at him.  "Uncle?"  Apparently she didn't.

            "Well not really.  Arnie wasn't my brother, but I thought it would be—"

            "No," she shook her head and smiled a little.  "He can call you his uncle.  I just…wasn't sure you would want him to, that's all."

            Arnold just looked at her.  "He's your son," he said, simply.

            Lila's cheeks tinged, but Arnold kept her from having to reply.  "Look," Aaron was beginning to squirm in his mother's arms, "I don't know what your plans are but—I mean, if you don't have…well, I was just heading home…"  I can call Phoebe later.

            She glanced down the street.  "Is the boarding house still open?"

            "Yeah.  I still live there.  Take care of it more than Grandpa, nowadays.  You're welcome to come in for dinner.  Grandma still cooks though."  He was rambling, but at least he was completing sentences.

            "Is there a room available?"

            Arnold remembered he was holding groceries just in time to keep himself from dropping them.  He also, barely, kept from shouting "Hell yeah!"  Instead he sucked in some much needed air and looked at Lila.

            "Short or…or long term?"

            Lila looked back at him steadily.  "That depends."

            He made himself nod, then jerked his head towards the old house, beginning to walk towards it as he did so.

            "I think we can work something out."

            Lila smiled, shifted Aaron slightly, and followed.

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            Helga was sitting at her desk, trying very hard to give the impression that she was Very Displeased and anyone who interrupted her solitude would be Very Sorry.  So far it appeared to be working – no one, not even the muffin cart lady or that annoying mail boy -- had come anywhere near her all morning.  Or afternoon, for that matter.  As a matter of fact, it was now fast approaching five o'clock, and Helga hadn't spoken to a soul since her meeting that morning.

            Not that this bothered Helga greatly.  First of all, there were only two people she wanted to talk to at the moment.  One was missing and the other was presumably getting ready to go look for the missing person.  Second, even if one of them had shown up to talk, she was relatively certain that her office was bugged, so she wouldn't be able to tell them anything worth saying.  Last, and probably most important, she was working on a plan.

            Not for one moment had Helga considered actually following orders and staying at the office while Gerald went looking for Phoebe with some floozy.  She fully intended to find Phoebe herself, breaking every Agency rule in the book if necessary.  The real question was how she was going to manage this without being terminated.  Or worse, fired.

            She knew she was going to have to fool the Agency somehow – not the easiest task in the world, but doable.  Obviously someone here had already, and recently.  It was the recently part that worried her, as it meant that security was going to be even more prevalent than usual.  For example, it had taken her an entire 30 seconds to crack into the mainframe with root privileges this time.  (She had found that Agency super-high-tech security systems were more an encouraged myth than the reality when it came down to it, especially when she was coming from the inside.  Of course, the fact that she knew Carl the sysadmin used pet names for all of his passwords helped.)

            Step one was to figure out just who and what she was going to have to fool, and hence the hacking into her internal records.  Just a few more clicks and…there we go.  Helga scanned the file impatiently, looking for any names associated with hers.  Moria, Simon, Gerald – no kidding…Brian, nope he's in Columbia…Jeff is in some jail…Anita's dead…that's no help.  Come on, give me something here.  Someone has to be assigned to tail me…wait what's this?

            Carl had apparently picked up a few tricks lately.  An entire page of information was covered in what looked like random letters and numbers.  This was going to take longer than she thought.  She copied the file to her Palm and threw in it her purse for later.  Then she backed out of the system, careful to erase any stray log files she might had triggered on the way.  Crappy security or not, it never paid to get cocky around the CIA.

            She had just started up a game of solitaire to while away her last five minutes of work when she sensed him behind her.  She half-smiled.

            "Wondered when you'd finally show up." she said without turning.

            Gerald raised an eyebrow at her back.  "I figured I'd give you enough time to get into whatever trouble you're planning."

            A full smile now, and she turned to face him.  "I don't know what you're talking about.  I've been sitting here all day."

            "Which is exactly what worries me.  Any time you're not running off on some wild scheme, it means you're plotting some wild scheme.  And this time I won't be there to watch your back."  He frowned.

            "If I were you I'd be more worried about your wild scheme, or maybe the fact that you probably don't have one yet.  Not to mention what I'll do to you if you hook up with Miss Fashion-Sense on the way."

            Gerald rolled his eyes.  "Please.  I'd prefer a girl with a brain."

            "Seen her in a tight top lately?  She's got two."

            He smiled at that one, then looked seriously at Helga.  "Promise me something."

            "What's that?"

            "Don't try to find her."  He didn't need to say who.  "Wait until the agency clears you, then you can get a partner and come after me."

            She looked at him for a long time.  Then she took a deep breath and nodded slowly.  "Ok.  But I'll give you a month, that's it.  If you're not back by then I'm coming after you, and to hell with no contact rules, got it?"

            "I wouldn't ask for more."  Gerald nodded and left.

            Helga watched him walk down the hallway all the way to the corner.  She knew that this would be the last time she'd see him for a while, maybe ever.  And she knew they were being watched, he couldn't, she knew he couldn't give her a sign, a wink, a smile, something.  But she watched all the same.  Because if there was a leak in the Agency, then the plan they had just silently decided on had to work.  It had to, because Gerald was now the bait.

            He turned the corner, and was out of sight.

A/N:  Well guys, I came back to this story and suddenly realized that I needed another setup chapter.  Oops.  So next time I get around to updating this, expect something a lot longer…and I'll start answering reviews again.  In case there are any newbies reading this, you might benefit from reading Hot Air first.  Or, you might throw rotten tomatoes at me, one or the other.  ~PJ