A/N: Not mine. Well, I might claim Marakova, with shoutouts for the other laboratory rats from the After Paradise forum. If you recognize Macintire, though, it's something positive, but if you don't... well, Appledelhi never remembered his name, either.

Also, I usually gauge my update timing by hits, but since that had been on the fritz since the beginning of the year until very recently, I may have to break down and wait for at least a week to pass between chapters and/or for multiple reviews. I know Snodin's been keeping up, at least! ;)


"Dr. Lebowski, ma'am?" The junior scientist addressing her flinched, knowing that Cher could be very particular about proper forms of address, and in the midst of a divorce, there really wasn't a proper way to get her attention without also earning her annoyance. Lebowski was an artifact of things gone wrong, but she wasn't quite ready to use Degre just yet. Hubb was not that quickly cast aside, for all his faults. (These included perpetual stubbornness and a sad, blind devotion to legality and tradition, naturally enough… Why hadn't she just kept her maiden name and saved herself at least one less headache?) About the easiest to deal with right now was "Dr. D" from those who knew her well.

"What's the matter, Dr. Marakova?" Cher tried not to snap. The woman meant well. Probably. There were days when Marakova's eagerness for results could scare her project director, but then Cher's dedication to her work could scare everyone, at times. Lady Jaguara's labs recruited for raw talent and enthusiasm, after all, not people skills. Not moral fortitude, Cher worried.

"Lady Jaguara is on line one for you." The brown-eyed scientist handed Cher a telephone, handling it as if she was afraid it might explode or poison her merely via contact. Cher took it without comment, giving Marakova a nod once she'd identified herself to the noble waiting on the other end. Lady Jaguara did not like to be kept waiting.

"Degre-Lebowski," Jaguara said before Cher could even finish. "It has come to my attention that you harbor a fondness for certain extinct animals, wolves in particular."

It seemed a strange topic for a phone conversation, but who was Cher to second-guess her employer? "Well, what child didn't grow up with The Adventures of Macintire and Appledelhi and a healthy imagination?" She attempted to keep her tone light.

"Perhaps, then, you can help me with my missing moon. There will be a car waiting for you in front of the complex at the end of your shift. Do not tarry. I have others who can keep the experiment progressing apace. You are needed elsewhere."

"Yes, my lady," Cher replied, feeling the strangest sensation of relieved déjà vu. At least she had been asked. At least she was needed. And because Cher knew she would need to be able to come back to the lab, she met her ride promptly at quitting time.