The sky was like volcanic ash thrown up from the hooves of some dark and apocalyptic
steed, the night SHE sauntered in. What brought her through that bottle-green glass door
marked “Mr P Nightime Enterprises,” we had no way of knowing at the time--all we knew
was that she looked damn good doing it. Well, I knew. I could appreciate that. As for
Ginger Snaps, he didn’t bat an eyelash at the girl, even when she settled herself onto the
chair in front of our desk and crossed her legs in that way that makes a man suddenly very
aware of the hair on the backs of his hands. Or so I’ve heard.

“Ginger Snaps. Shun-chan. I gotta job for ya.” She waggled a few bills in our face, just
enough to make the point but not quite enough to make Ginger Snaps take his eyes off his
copy of Girl Goddess #9. I, of course, snapped to attention so hard my bra lost a hook.
I’m a sucker for the dineros. But I didn’t let on, unless you consider frantically grabbing
at the wad of cash “letting on.” I don’t.

“Yeah, yeah, what’re ya lookin’ for, toots?” My voice held the barely-suppressed
eagerness of a straight-D schoolgirl two minutes before the final bell of the year.

“The Mayan Jade Eclair. It’s been stolen, again.” At the word eclair, Ginger Snaps finally
glanced up from his book, and if he’d been wearing a bra, he’d have popped at least two
hooks. Maybe he was wearing one, I dunno. We’re strictly platonic, GS and I. The dish
sighed and pushed her black bangs out of her tear-stained face. “My name is Opal Cream,
and I’m the last surviving daughter of the Mayan Eclair Clan. The Jade Eclair is all I have
left of my people--but it’s a priceless relic, and coveted by treasure hunters the world
around. Groups of horrible men are always after it, always! Now it’s been taken once
more. You can’t miss it when you find it, my last name is engraved on it several times.
Please, help me!” Opal Cream dabbed at her eyes and pushed out her bottom lip that
extra mile. “I just have to get it back, I just have to!”

Ginger Snaps was on task, all right. “Miss, don’t you worry about a thing. We’ll find
your rock hard eclair.”

“Oh, thank you! Thank you! But . . . I have a tribal ceremony tonight at the Ritz. You’ll
phone me there if you find any leads?”

I waited for GS to answer her, but he was too busy gloating that he’d gotten away with
saying “rock hard eclair” in a G-rated Author Biography. So I did the only thing I could.

“We will be sure to call a hotel as soon as we find any evidence of a rock hard eclair,
that’s been taken again and again and again by large groups of men, with Cream all over
it.”

GS and I went into convulsions, and as for Miss Cream, she didn’t notice--she strutted out
of that green glass door like she’d just ceased to own the place and had gotten it off her
hands for a lot more than it was worth.

“Shun-chan . . .”

“Ready to get to work, Ginger?”

“I was just thinking. Do you have this sudden urge to write fanfiction?”

“I always get the urge to write fics when a dish wants me to play Find-the-Eclair with
her.”

“I have a challenge for you, then.”

“And I for you. Last one done has to eat a big dill pickle!”

Mr P Nightime Enterprises, Ginger Snaps and Shun-chan . . . mutual fic challengers
extraordinaire.