Although she had long gotten over the urge to do so, Amber Sweet often thought as she sat behind her desk in the GeneCo office about the times when it was all too easy to go down a back alley for her hit of Z. It was easier still now that she was the owner of such a large organisation, but she could not help but long for that filth she had become used to. After all, it wasn't often she got fucked nowadays, what with everyone being too frightened of her. She got used to it, though, and although she missed her weekly routine, she supposed there was more dignity in her status now.

Months went by where she contemplated over these ideas, wondering, contemplating. It was all she had left to do now, and to be honest it didn't appease to her very much at all. Still, when push comes to shove, she thought, is it not better to have something on your mind to occupy you if nothing else will. Dear God how she wished something would distract her.

Of course, whenever this wish was granted, it would always be in a manner which displeased her. It would more often than not take the form of her brothers. Amber would often become confused at why she detested her brothers to such a degree, but then at this point they would always enter the room and she would find out why. Despite the fact that you could rarely get two closer siblings, the two of them argued incessantly. Under any other conditions they would be tepid and without much fuss between them.

Who dared to expect such a thing to happen?

At rare times, Amber would find herself with files that needed to be read and documents that needed to be signed. Although she did not care for them at all, it was better than thinking. It did not help, though, that her brothers insisted on watching the wide screen television while she worked. She wouldn't have minded if it had been a normal family. It wasn't the fact that they couldn't agree on what to watch that bothered her. It wasn't the fact that they always wanted to sit in the exact same spot either.

It was the fact that no matter how many times they went through the process of making sandwiches, they only ever ended up making one.

So the arguing began again.

Rubbing her highly manicured temples- a task GeneCo had only managed to do for a few years now- Amber glared at her brothers who now persisted in grappling, their hands at each others throats. It was a common sight, but one that still proceeded to annoy her with each time it came round. She placed down the file she was reviewing and watched them a moment before finally groaning in irritation and walking towards the two just as Luigi pulled his knife from wherever it is he left it- something that still remained a mystery to the Largo family.

"What the fucking hell are you doing?" she shrieked above the noise. Of course, this simple shrill voice had always been able to make her brothers freeze in shock of the sound.

"He stole the sandwich," Luigi said, his knife still pointing at Pavi who was smiling slightly.

"I made it."

"Then make another or something, I'm busy here." At this, Luigi scowled, throwing the knife across the room and getting to his feet.

"I told you to make another," he growled. Pavi laughed, clutching his side.

"You should have done it then!" he replied through laughter. Amber clenched her fists, gritting her teeth, and with another irritable groan she went back to her desk. The idiocy of her brothers never ceased to amaze her, but amazement was not at all what she needed at this moment in time.

Not too far away- in fact, much closer than Amber Sweet could expect or want- Shilo herself rubbed her temples, a much less manicured version of Amber's, and stared at the young boy she had fucked only a few nights ago. She still wasn't sure of his name; something like Clayton, Carl, Casanova, anything beginning with a 'c'. She couldn't tell, really, seeing as he kept mumbling in a drug induced haze. At this very moment in time, she was pacing the floor as he rocked gently on the bed, muttering some incoherent words about how his drug supply had been cut off. It seemed to be taking its toll on him, to say the least.

"He's gonna be back any minute now, you know," Shilo reminded the boy after a while.

"I'm already dying," he moaned, pulling out a few strands of hair. "Honestly, he pushed me to smoking tea bags- fucking tea bags! He's trying to kill me."

"If you don't leave now he's going to kill you soon enough."

"Then why can't he get it over with?" he asked droningly, lying heavily on the bed. Shilo gritted her teeth.

"If he doesn't do it I bloody well will."

Not having heard her, Clayton, Carl or Casanova groaned and rolled helplessly over liked a fish out of water. Shilo leant against the doorframe with her arms folded, listening intently for a sound from the living room. Obviously, fate being the bitch it usually is, it did not take long before she heard the Graverobber's footsteps and the door slam behind him as he threw his bag to the floor.

"And that's my cue," she muttered, moving towards the boy on the bed.

Meanwhile, the Graverobber took little to no notice of anything that went on in the room. Not that he could hear, of course. Even if he could hear, it wouldn't bother him that much. At least, not as much as Shilo would at first have thought. He took hold of a newspaper and sat lazily on the sofa, reading in the same fashion he usually did. There were only a few minutes of peace before Shilo emerged from her room, carrying a rather indented and now deep red shoe. The Graverobber looked up from the newspaper and watched Shilo with light amusement.

"I'm guessing that's what you were doing in there, then?" he asked, nodding at the bloodied shoe.

"Doing what?" Shilo asked with deep innocence.

"Beating that guy with a shoe. I didn't think you were one for sadism in the bedroom."

"How'd you know about him?"

"Kid, you're not the best at keeping secrets for long." Shilo nodded, throwing her shoe towards the door.

"He was bugging me. Anyway, he was going on about death so much I thought someone should put him out of his misery."

"Cruel to be kind?" He nodded approvingly. "Didn't think you had it in you."

Shilo smiled with slight gratification and opened the front door, kicking her shoe out into the hallway. After all, it wasn't any use to her now.

"I'm expecting you to clean him up in there, you know."

"Seems fair," Shilo shrugged.

"Can I ask you something kid?" the Graverobber asked as he lay the newspaper on the coffee table.

"It's about him, isn't it?"

"How'd you guess? Anyway, I can think of about a million guys who'd be willing for a free reason to fuck you, so why choose him?"

"First guy who came down the hallway."

"Why'd you need to find someone anyway? You don't seem the type to be that desperate."

"Because you were bugging me," she answered honestly. "And you were always kind of protective. I thought it'd be the best way to get back at you for annoying me so much."

"And you couldn't even be bothered to find someone who wasn't taking drugs?" Shilo paused, contemplating his words. Finally, she nodded.

"Good point."

"Just remember that for next time. Believe me, drug addicts aren't what you call the most talented lovers."

"Oh, and I'm guessing you are?"

"Well, I'm no addict, so yeah."

"Are you telling my you're not an addict?" she asked in slight amazement.

"Never try any of your own produce, kid, it's one of my rules."

"So you've not even tried it? Not at all?"

"Nope." Shilo blinked twice, still slightly dumbfounded. However, it passed quickly, and she regained curiosity.

"Why're you bothering to tell me this?"

"Why not?" he asked, shrugging.

With that, Shilo was pretty sure she wouldn't get anything else out of him for the rest of the night.