It feels exhilarating when she drives...well it's supposed too. Ever since she placed her emotions in the stone she can't find it in herself to enjoy anything anymore. Almost makes her want to destroy the stone...almost. She drives faster, her body prickling as she gets closer to her target. What an idiot...red? How predictable. She can see her loony brother riding on the back, a couple of lovers how quaint! Ana laughs at her own joke as she speeds up, showing the two of them just how fast one could be on a bike. Her black hair flows out behind her, the gloves on her hands feel tight and amazing. Her full helmet creating the perfect disguise.

She speeds past them, she glances over at Marty, so happy and content with himself. She makes a note to herself to make sure to wipe that happy look off of his face. She crouches into herself the bike speeding and splashing dirt onto his shiny bike. She laughs inside of her helmet as she speeds off past him, joy coming from messing up his things. Ana has never felt this pleased with herself...well not in a long time.

All of a sudden he was brought out of his self absorbed musings by another motorcyclist who whizzed by them, splashing mud all over Marty's bike. The bad thing was the mud didn't just hit the bike, it got all over them as well.

The mud was so unexpected that Bradley flinched, having to forcibly remind himself not to let go of his grip on the bike or else he'd go tumbling off. Yeah...that wouldn't be pleasant.

"Son of a..." He muttered the curse word in to the air, thankfully the wind blew it away where it couldn't be heard.

Marty watched as the black bike sped passed them. He made a face as the mud hit his face. Reaching up, he wiped it away. Instead of racing the rider, he slowed the bike and then put his foot on the break so it stopped. He didn't want to flood the engine.

Hopping off, he held onto the machine with one hand. The other hand he rested on his hip. "What do you want?" he snapped. "You know…I can just wash the bike and myself. No biggie. Do you honestly think I haven't got mud on it before? Please. I ride all the back roads. Mud and I are friends."

Marty shifted. He cocked his head to one side and then the other. "You know what, I don't care," Marty said. He hopped onto his bike and sped up the hill. When he back in the dusty and dirty tool shed, he turned off the engine, kicked the kick stand, and then shakily got off the bike.

He'd done too much. He realized it. His body was shaking worse than ever. He couldn't focus. And he was so hot, even out in the cool air. Sweat poured down him. Marty ignored it as he filled a bucket with water. Stooping, he wiped away the mud. Marty was not going to leave any grime on it; dirt could make the machine rust.

"Can we go in, now," he whispered. Instead of heading to the house, he sat down on the ground. Leaning his head back, he deep breathed to try to calm the shaking and the tightness in his stomach.

"It will get better." He whispered this. It was said more to himself then to Bradley, but Bradley could answer if he wanted. "It has to."

"Yeah sure, we can go in now." Bradley replied. He too was a little desperate to go in as well so he could change clothes and get the freaking mud off! He could deal with a lot of things; bullets, guns, blood (even his own), but when it came to dirt and especially mud...!

Getting off of the bike Bradley hands to keys to the workshop to Marty so he can lock up.

"Lock's on the stone outside, just in front of the door." Bradley said. He then turned and went back outside and up to the cabin.

"Good," Marty said, but he didn't move. He was so tired. He also knew he would be getting weary with the past days. Sleep would be the last thing he would able to do until the detox was over. This would be the second night and so he had one more to go through before that would come. Marty couldn't wait.

He took the key and nodded. "All right," he replied. He was a little surprised Bradley left him alone – that he told him to go in or ask if anything was wrong. But, what would Marty have said to that question? There was two options – to tell the truth or to blatantly lie. And, the only response to Bradley pushing him to actually get him up and into the house, would've been to scowl and balk. Yes, trying would've been futile.

Bradley was reaching in his pocket for the keys to the cabin when he saw something that made his heart nearly stop in his chest. The cabin door which had been locked was now standing wide open. Forcing himself to breathe easily, Bradley stepped in to the cabin, not bothering with the lights; just in case the intruder was still inside.

The first thing he did was grab his father's shot gun which he kept in the closet that was just inside the door. After checking to see that it was still loaded, Bradley began to sneak around the cabin. It was a little weird, seeing an officer holding the shot gun against a cast while his uninjured hand was near the trigger, but hey, it worked!

He checked through the living room and kitchen, not seeing anything. Next he went upstairs after after checking through the two bedrooms, bathroom, closets and other spare rooms up there, he didn't find anyone.

Trudging back down the stairs Bradley decided to take a closer look at the kitchen.

While contractors tried to make sure that the place was in good condition, they were terrible about dusting. Perhaps whoever had broken in had left some prints behind? Walking in to the kitchen Bradley soon had his answer. One of the cabinet doors, while it wasn't fully open, it was standing ajar; fresh finger marks could be seen in the dust.

Going in to the living room, Bradley checked through all of their bags. After a few minutes he discovered that one thing was missing and once he discovered what it was, he was pretty sure who had broken in. Putting the shotgun down; all thoughts of drying mud gone, Bradley whips out his cellphone, goes to his contacts list and selects a single contact.

Seeing the words 'Dialing' a moment later, Bradley puts the cellphone to his ear and waits.

"Come on Gavin," Bradley mumbles, "you need to pick up."

His first order of business was to call Gavin, then he would dust for fingerprints; starting with those he found in the kitchen! Lance knew how to check the database for finger prints so then it would only be a question of having the other man come up to the cabin (along with some equipment) and preform the search. If indeed it turned out to be whom Bradley it was that had broken in, he would at least be able to nail her for breaking and entering!