Thanks for the feedback! On with the second part! Oh, and by the way, this story takes place sometime in the second season before things started going crazy with the counteragent. All right, enjoy!
~~~~~
Act 1
"It's crap."
"What are you talking about? This thing is state of the art!"
"Sorry partner, but you just wasted a lot of money on a pile of crap. Don't you know those things kill you mind?"
"NO, biosynthetic glands kill your mind. This is recreation."
"Uh-huh."
Darien busied himself with opening up the package containing his brand-new Playstation 2. Hobbes on the other hand simply leaned in a corner of Darien's apartment, sighing and shrugging his shoulders. After a few minutes of fighting with packaging tape and styrofoam, Darien was finaly able to get his new prize out of the box. He beamed with joy as he stared at his new toy.
"Hey, why don't ya make yourself useful and give me a hand here."
"Sure."
Hobbes meandered over to his partner's side. He shook his mournfully and looked over the pieces.
"I just still can't believe you wasted the Official's bonus on this. You do realize that the next time we ask him for a bonus we're gonna have to pry it from his cold dead hands."
Darien laughed at the serious expression on his partner's face. The laughter caused Hobbes to turn and face Darien with an angry expression.
"What? What's so funny?"
"You! You're acting like this thing is some sort of terrorist...contraption or something."
"Oooo, 'contraption'. I didn't know you knew such big words. Must be some left-over Kevin RNA."
"Ha. You are so funny Hobbes. Listen, you spend your money the way you want to, and I'll spend mine the way I want to. NOw help me hook this thing up."
"Fine. Geez, they have so many cables and plugs with this, how are you supposed to know what goes where?"
"Uh, I think there's an instruction book here somewhere."
Darien rifled through the plastic wrap and packaging before finally locating the important packet.
"Aha! Here it si, Let's see...," Darien started skimming the table of contents, "'How to Install Your New Gaming System, page 14'."
Darien flipped through the pages and scanned the instructions.
"Well, it sounds easy enough. Shall we begin?"
Three hours and several curses later, it was finished. Although the Playstation itself was nicely placed on Darien's coffee table, all neat and organized, the rest of his apartment was not so lucky.
"Okay, I think we've finally got it," Darien sighed.
He leaned over from his position on his couch and hit the on button. The television screen went blurry.
"Crap!" he shouted.
"Wait, partner, I think it's supposed to be on channel 4," Hobbes switched stations.
The screen showed the Playstation 2 logo.
"Eureka!" Darien shouted, "I knew I asked you over for a reason Hobbes."
"Thanks, Fawksey," Hobbes rolled his eyes.
"Now, the only game I have to play is whatever is on the demo disc. Let's check it out!"
Darien was just about to put the disc in when Hobbes' cell phone rang.
"Hobbes...Yes, sir... Of course, sir...We'll be right in Chief."
Hobbes turned and looked at Darien.
"Oh, no. He does not want us to come in," Darien whined.
Hobbes started moving towards the door, "Let's go amigo."
"But, it's Saturday! Can't he let us rest for even one day!"
"Crime never rests, my friend. Come on, I'll drive."
~~~~~
"Sorry to call you in a Saturday, but..."
"Sorry my a..."
"...but," The Official was quick to cut of Darien's comment, "we have just been given a very important case. Eberts!"
Eberts handed Darien and Hobbes files on the new case and continued with an explanation.
"It seems that over the past week there have been three robberies at three different research companies in the San Diego area, Lexcom International, Virgil Research Institute, and the most recent Chadwell Research."
"So what makes the case so important that we got it? Someone gonna make a bomb outta what was stolen or something?" Darien asked, almost sarcastically.
"The objects stolen do not seem to combine to anything lethal, yet," Eberts stated, "However we do know they are connected because of this."
Eberts handed a small, flat piece of metal to Hobbes.
"This has been found at each of the crime scenes upon police arrival. It seems to be some sort of calling card for the criminal."
"Someone's trying to brag about the thefts," Darien said unenthusiastically, "He thinks he did such a good job that the cops will never find him, so he leaves this metal thingy behind to give them a little clue and to try to tease them"
"Now you're thinking like an agent, partner," Hobbes smiled, "So, do we have anything on what this guy looks like?"
"Well,uh," Eberts said, "that is another reason this case is so...unusual. The security cameras at all three locations were disabled and authorities were not able to pick up anything on the first two robberies. At the last location, however, there was one outdoor security monitor that was not disconnected and we were able to get this image."
Eberts handed Darien a photograph of woman, dressed in khaki pants, a nice, pink button down shirt, and a cream sweater tied around her neck, carrying a large, cube-shaped, object.
"This doesn't look like a thief. It looks more like Martha Stewart!" Darien remarked.
"She's been identified as Mrs. Jane Ryan. Her address is printed on page two of the case file. She is a 35 year-old housewife, mother of two, married for 12 years to a Mr. Robert Ryan, who is employed at California Communications as a manager of the services department."
"Okay, so why would Betty Crocker here start stealing from scientific research companies?" Hobbes asked, almost to himself.
"Maybe she's trying to build a better Easy Bake Oven," Darien replied.
"Mrs. Ryan and her vehicle have been reported missing since Friday night," the Official barked,"Her family knows nothing about her involvement in these robberies. I suggest you keep it that way," he warned, "I want you two to get started ASAP!"
"Yes,sir," Hobbes and Darien said in unison and they shuffled out the door.
~~~~
The old, tan van pulled up in front of a small, yet beautiful, fifties style house, which was located in what Darien called "Suburbia".
"Okay, 713 Willow Drive. This is the place," Hobbes said matter-of-factly.
"Are you sure, this time? We've been driving around this place for 3 hours trying to find this house."
"Well, if they wouldn't all build these houses to look the same, we wouldn't be having this problem would we?"
Darien just shrugged.
"All right then. Let's go. Make sure you lock your door."
The men stepped out of the van.
"Hobbes, why do we lock the doors on that thing anyway? I mean, I think it would be a lot better if we just let that thing get stolen?"
"What? Never! Golda and I have been through a lot together and would not let her just get stolen just so the Official would get me a new van. She means a lot to me Fawkes."
"Okay, okay," Darien smiled, "just asking."
Hobbes mumbled something under his breath and then went to knock on the door. Darien stopped him.
"Uh, don't you think this guy is gonna think it's really weird that the Bureau of Weights and Measures is investigating his wife's disappearance."
"Heh, I'll think of something."
*KNOCK**KNOCK**KNOCK*
A 5'7", slightly balding man, in his late-thirties quickly answered the door.
"Hello, sir. My name is Agent Robert Hobbes and this is my partner Agent Darien Fawkes. We're here..."
"Are you here about Jane? Please come in!"
'That was easy,' Darien thought to himself.
"Ha-Have a seat. Would you like anything? Some co-coffee, water, soda, anything?"
"No thank you, sir," Hobbes replied.
"I just bought some Vanilla Coke. I don't care for it much, but the kids and Jane...and Jane," the man started to tear up.
"It's all right Mr. Ryan," Hobbes comforted the man.
"Mr. Ryan, when was the last time you saw your wife?" Darien asked, eager to get this inquiry done as fast as possible.
"Uhm, well, let me think."
"It's okay, just take your time," Hobbes smiled.
Hobbes was much more patient when it came to interviewing witness and the like.
"Well, I guess it was Friday morning. I woke up and got a shower. When I was done, Jane," the man teared up at the mention of his wife's name, "well, Jane was already downstairs making breakfast for me and the kids, like she always is. Scrambled eggs, I think. Then I had to hurry off to work for a meeting. I guess that's the last time..." his voiced trailed off.
"Mr. Ryan, do you know what your wife was planning on doing that day?"
'Besides planning to rob a multi-million dollar research corporation,' Darien thought.
"Uhm, uh, well..." he paused for a few seconds, "Oh! I remember. She was going off to take our son to spend his birthday money, after school, of course. Then she was just going to stay home with the kids, like normal."
"Did you see her when you got home from work?" Hobbes asked.
"No, I-I had to work late, I've had to all this week, work late I mean, and I didn't get home until about midnight. I was so tired that I just wanted to crawl into bed. But, when I got home I noticed that her car, a green Plymouth mini-van, well it wasn't in the garage. I ran through the house looking for her, for a note, for anything. I checked on the kids to see if maybe she had to take them to the hospital or something, but they were both there. I just...I just don't know what could have happened to her!" Mr. Ryan started to cry, again.
The grown man was completely bawling. Darien and Hobbes just looked at each other for a second.
"Uhm, Mr. Ryan?"
*sniffle* "Yes, Agent Fawkes?"
"About your kids? Did they say anything about your wife being gone? Do you know if they heard anything?"
"My eldest, my son, he said that J-Jane woke him up and told him that she had to run an errand. That's all I know."
"Do you mind if we talk to your son?"
"Uh, sure. He's in his room. I'll take you there."
"What about your other child? Do you mind if we talk to her too?"
"N-no Agent Hobbes. Not at all. Anything to find her."
"Hey, how about I talk to your son, and Agent Hobbes can talk to your daughter? Just so they don't get to scared with two government agents or something."
"Uhm, yes. Thank you Agent Fawkes. Agent Hobbes this is my daughter's room. Her name is Cynthia."
"Thank you Mr. Ryan."
Hobbes went in to talk to the six year old girl.
"Agent Fawkes, my son's room is right here. His name is Kevin."
An ounce of pain shot through Darien. It had been over a year since his brother died, but still, any mention of his name, even when not referring to Kevin Fawkes, still hurt.
"He's nine years old."
"Thanks."
Darien stepped in the room. It was a typical nine year old boys room. There were posters of baseball players and football players and soccer players, GI Joe's and Hot Wheels spread across the floor. The boy himself was sitting in front of a small television set playing some video game.
"Hey Kevin. My name's Darien. I'm a federal agent. Mind if talk to you about your mom for a second."
The federal agent line always seemed to impress the younger kids.
"Darien's a dorky name," Kevin answered, and he continued to play his game.
"Okay, so it is. You can call me Fawkes then."
"Okay."
"So, whatcha playing?"
"NASCAR Thunder 2002."
"Cool, have you had that game awhile? You seem to be pretty good at it."
"Well, I've had the game for a little, but I just got my Playstation 2 yesterday. You can play old Playstation games on the system."
"Playstation 2, huh? I just got one myself. Hey, is that what you and your mom went to buy yesterday?"
"Yeah, I got it with my birthday money. My mom helped me set it all up yesterday, too."
"When was the last time you saw your mom, Kevin?"
"Uh, last night. She woke me up to tell me she had to run an errand or something."
"Do you know what time it was?"
"No, but it was after my bedtime."
"When's your bedtime?"
"9 O'clock."
Darien had a feeling that this was all the kid knew. He decided to wrap up his conversation.
"Well, thanks a lot Kevin. You've been a big help. We're gonna find your mom, okay?"
"Okay, thanks."
Kevin went right on playing his video game. He met Hobbes in the all, standing with Mr. Ryan.
"I think that's about all," Darien said.
"Thank you for your help Mr. Ryan. And trust us, we're going to do everything in our power to find your wife."
'And then convict of her felony theft,' Darien thought.
"Thank you, thank you very much. You'll be in touch then?"
"Yes, sir. And if you hear anything or think of anything else, just give me a call at this number."
Hobbes handed Mr. Ryan his card. The three said their good-byes and Darien and Hobbes headed back to the van.
"So, what did the kid tell ya?"
"Same thing Mr. Ryan said he said. Mom left for an errand sometime after his 9 O'clock bedtime."
"The case file said that that picture of Mrs. Ryan was taken at around 2 am. Which means that sometime between 9 and 12 our little housewife left her Betty Crocker abode, and then went to steal some high priced baking equipment."
The men loaded themselves into the vehicle and started to pull away.
"Didn't Eberts say that this was the third burglary like this, this past week?" Darien asked, confused.
"Yeah, and?"
"Well, Mr. Ryan didn't say anything about his wife being gone any other day."
"So, maybe Jane didn't rob all three places."
"Which means, that this could be some sort of housewife conspiracy or something."
"Exactly."
"That's some big craziness there, my friend."
"Very big, Fawkes. Very big. All right, I'll have Eberts do some computer magic and try to find out if any other weird disappearances have been going on."
"Sounds like a plan to me."
"You must always have a plan, Fawkesy. Always."
"Exactly right my man. And I think my plan for the rest of the day is to go home and enjoy the rest of my Saturday in peace. Leave the rest of today's work for Eberts right?"
"That, my friend, sounds like a very good plan."
Hobbes dropped Darien off at his apartment at 6pm. The lanky agent wearily climbed the stairs to his flat and plopped down on the couch. He wasn't sure quite what to do with the rest of his day, until he noticed his Playstation.
"Aha! Alone at last, but still only the demo disc. Ah, well, gotta get warmed up anyway."
Darien popped the disc in, sat through a parental warning about the reasons why you shouldn't buy younger kids the more violent video games, and then tested out each demo on the disc. A few hours later Fawkes decided it was time to put himself to bed. He fell asleep dreaming of all the video games he couldn't wait to spend his money on.
~~~~~
TBC
Feedback is greatly appreciated!!!! Please let me know how you think this is coming along! Thanks a bunch!!
~~~~~
Act 1
"It's crap."
"What are you talking about? This thing is state of the art!"
"Sorry partner, but you just wasted a lot of money on a pile of crap. Don't you know those things kill you mind?"
"NO, biosynthetic glands kill your mind. This is recreation."
"Uh-huh."
Darien busied himself with opening up the package containing his brand-new Playstation 2. Hobbes on the other hand simply leaned in a corner of Darien's apartment, sighing and shrugging his shoulders. After a few minutes of fighting with packaging tape and styrofoam, Darien was finaly able to get his new prize out of the box. He beamed with joy as he stared at his new toy.
"Hey, why don't ya make yourself useful and give me a hand here."
"Sure."
Hobbes meandered over to his partner's side. He shook his mournfully and looked over the pieces.
"I just still can't believe you wasted the Official's bonus on this. You do realize that the next time we ask him for a bonus we're gonna have to pry it from his cold dead hands."
Darien laughed at the serious expression on his partner's face. The laughter caused Hobbes to turn and face Darien with an angry expression.
"What? What's so funny?"
"You! You're acting like this thing is some sort of terrorist...contraption or something."
"Oooo, 'contraption'. I didn't know you knew such big words. Must be some left-over Kevin RNA."
"Ha. You are so funny Hobbes. Listen, you spend your money the way you want to, and I'll spend mine the way I want to. NOw help me hook this thing up."
"Fine. Geez, they have so many cables and plugs with this, how are you supposed to know what goes where?"
"Uh, I think there's an instruction book here somewhere."
Darien rifled through the plastic wrap and packaging before finally locating the important packet.
"Aha! Here it si, Let's see...," Darien started skimming the table of contents, "'How to Install Your New Gaming System, page 14'."
Darien flipped through the pages and scanned the instructions.
"Well, it sounds easy enough. Shall we begin?"
Three hours and several curses later, it was finished. Although the Playstation itself was nicely placed on Darien's coffee table, all neat and organized, the rest of his apartment was not so lucky.
"Okay, I think we've finally got it," Darien sighed.
He leaned over from his position on his couch and hit the on button. The television screen went blurry.
"Crap!" he shouted.
"Wait, partner, I think it's supposed to be on channel 4," Hobbes switched stations.
The screen showed the Playstation 2 logo.
"Eureka!" Darien shouted, "I knew I asked you over for a reason Hobbes."
"Thanks, Fawksey," Hobbes rolled his eyes.
"Now, the only game I have to play is whatever is on the demo disc. Let's check it out!"
Darien was just about to put the disc in when Hobbes' cell phone rang.
"Hobbes...Yes, sir... Of course, sir...We'll be right in Chief."
Hobbes turned and looked at Darien.
"Oh, no. He does not want us to come in," Darien whined.
Hobbes started moving towards the door, "Let's go amigo."
"But, it's Saturday! Can't he let us rest for even one day!"
"Crime never rests, my friend. Come on, I'll drive."
~~~~~
"Sorry to call you in a Saturday, but..."
"Sorry my a..."
"...but," The Official was quick to cut of Darien's comment, "we have just been given a very important case. Eberts!"
Eberts handed Darien and Hobbes files on the new case and continued with an explanation.
"It seems that over the past week there have been three robberies at three different research companies in the San Diego area, Lexcom International, Virgil Research Institute, and the most recent Chadwell Research."
"So what makes the case so important that we got it? Someone gonna make a bomb outta what was stolen or something?" Darien asked, almost sarcastically.
"The objects stolen do not seem to combine to anything lethal, yet," Eberts stated, "However we do know they are connected because of this."
Eberts handed a small, flat piece of metal to Hobbes.
"This has been found at each of the crime scenes upon police arrival. It seems to be some sort of calling card for the criminal."
"Someone's trying to brag about the thefts," Darien said unenthusiastically, "He thinks he did such a good job that the cops will never find him, so he leaves this metal thingy behind to give them a little clue and to try to tease them"
"Now you're thinking like an agent, partner," Hobbes smiled, "So, do we have anything on what this guy looks like?"
"Well,uh," Eberts said, "that is another reason this case is so...unusual. The security cameras at all three locations were disabled and authorities were not able to pick up anything on the first two robberies. At the last location, however, there was one outdoor security monitor that was not disconnected and we were able to get this image."
Eberts handed Darien a photograph of woman, dressed in khaki pants, a nice, pink button down shirt, and a cream sweater tied around her neck, carrying a large, cube-shaped, object.
"This doesn't look like a thief. It looks more like Martha Stewart!" Darien remarked.
"She's been identified as Mrs. Jane Ryan. Her address is printed on page two of the case file. She is a 35 year-old housewife, mother of two, married for 12 years to a Mr. Robert Ryan, who is employed at California Communications as a manager of the services department."
"Okay, so why would Betty Crocker here start stealing from scientific research companies?" Hobbes asked, almost to himself.
"Maybe she's trying to build a better Easy Bake Oven," Darien replied.
"Mrs. Ryan and her vehicle have been reported missing since Friday night," the Official barked,"Her family knows nothing about her involvement in these robberies. I suggest you keep it that way," he warned, "I want you two to get started ASAP!"
"Yes,sir," Hobbes and Darien said in unison and they shuffled out the door.
~~~~
The old, tan van pulled up in front of a small, yet beautiful, fifties style house, which was located in what Darien called "Suburbia".
"Okay, 713 Willow Drive. This is the place," Hobbes said matter-of-factly.
"Are you sure, this time? We've been driving around this place for 3 hours trying to find this house."
"Well, if they wouldn't all build these houses to look the same, we wouldn't be having this problem would we?"
Darien just shrugged.
"All right then. Let's go. Make sure you lock your door."
The men stepped out of the van.
"Hobbes, why do we lock the doors on that thing anyway? I mean, I think it would be a lot better if we just let that thing get stolen?"
"What? Never! Golda and I have been through a lot together and would not let her just get stolen just so the Official would get me a new van. She means a lot to me Fawkes."
"Okay, okay," Darien smiled, "just asking."
Hobbes mumbled something under his breath and then went to knock on the door. Darien stopped him.
"Uh, don't you think this guy is gonna think it's really weird that the Bureau of Weights and Measures is investigating his wife's disappearance."
"Heh, I'll think of something."
*KNOCK**KNOCK**KNOCK*
A 5'7", slightly balding man, in his late-thirties quickly answered the door.
"Hello, sir. My name is Agent Robert Hobbes and this is my partner Agent Darien Fawkes. We're here..."
"Are you here about Jane? Please come in!"
'That was easy,' Darien thought to himself.
"Ha-Have a seat. Would you like anything? Some co-coffee, water, soda, anything?"
"No thank you, sir," Hobbes replied.
"I just bought some Vanilla Coke. I don't care for it much, but the kids and Jane...and Jane," the man started to tear up.
"It's all right Mr. Ryan," Hobbes comforted the man.
"Mr. Ryan, when was the last time you saw your wife?" Darien asked, eager to get this inquiry done as fast as possible.
"Uhm, well, let me think."
"It's okay, just take your time," Hobbes smiled.
Hobbes was much more patient when it came to interviewing witness and the like.
"Well, I guess it was Friday morning. I woke up and got a shower. When I was done, Jane," the man teared up at the mention of his wife's name, "well, Jane was already downstairs making breakfast for me and the kids, like she always is. Scrambled eggs, I think. Then I had to hurry off to work for a meeting. I guess that's the last time..." his voiced trailed off.
"Mr. Ryan, do you know what your wife was planning on doing that day?"
'Besides planning to rob a multi-million dollar research corporation,' Darien thought.
"Uhm, uh, well..." he paused for a few seconds, "Oh! I remember. She was going off to take our son to spend his birthday money, after school, of course. Then she was just going to stay home with the kids, like normal."
"Did you see her when you got home from work?" Hobbes asked.
"No, I-I had to work late, I've had to all this week, work late I mean, and I didn't get home until about midnight. I was so tired that I just wanted to crawl into bed. But, when I got home I noticed that her car, a green Plymouth mini-van, well it wasn't in the garage. I ran through the house looking for her, for a note, for anything. I checked on the kids to see if maybe she had to take them to the hospital or something, but they were both there. I just...I just don't know what could have happened to her!" Mr. Ryan started to cry, again.
The grown man was completely bawling. Darien and Hobbes just looked at each other for a second.
"Uhm, Mr. Ryan?"
*sniffle* "Yes, Agent Fawkes?"
"About your kids? Did they say anything about your wife being gone? Do you know if they heard anything?"
"My eldest, my son, he said that J-Jane woke him up and told him that she had to run an errand. That's all I know."
"Do you mind if we talk to your son?"
"Uh, sure. He's in his room. I'll take you there."
"What about your other child? Do you mind if we talk to her too?"
"N-no Agent Hobbes. Not at all. Anything to find her."
"Hey, how about I talk to your son, and Agent Hobbes can talk to your daughter? Just so they don't get to scared with two government agents or something."
"Uhm, yes. Thank you Agent Fawkes. Agent Hobbes this is my daughter's room. Her name is Cynthia."
"Thank you Mr. Ryan."
Hobbes went in to talk to the six year old girl.
"Agent Fawkes, my son's room is right here. His name is Kevin."
An ounce of pain shot through Darien. It had been over a year since his brother died, but still, any mention of his name, even when not referring to Kevin Fawkes, still hurt.
"He's nine years old."
"Thanks."
Darien stepped in the room. It was a typical nine year old boys room. There were posters of baseball players and football players and soccer players, GI Joe's and Hot Wheels spread across the floor. The boy himself was sitting in front of a small television set playing some video game.
"Hey Kevin. My name's Darien. I'm a federal agent. Mind if talk to you about your mom for a second."
The federal agent line always seemed to impress the younger kids.
"Darien's a dorky name," Kevin answered, and he continued to play his game.
"Okay, so it is. You can call me Fawkes then."
"Okay."
"So, whatcha playing?"
"NASCAR Thunder 2002."
"Cool, have you had that game awhile? You seem to be pretty good at it."
"Well, I've had the game for a little, but I just got my Playstation 2 yesterday. You can play old Playstation games on the system."
"Playstation 2, huh? I just got one myself. Hey, is that what you and your mom went to buy yesterday?"
"Yeah, I got it with my birthday money. My mom helped me set it all up yesterday, too."
"When was the last time you saw your mom, Kevin?"
"Uh, last night. She woke me up to tell me she had to run an errand or something."
"Do you know what time it was?"
"No, but it was after my bedtime."
"When's your bedtime?"
"9 O'clock."
Darien had a feeling that this was all the kid knew. He decided to wrap up his conversation.
"Well, thanks a lot Kevin. You've been a big help. We're gonna find your mom, okay?"
"Okay, thanks."
Kevin went right on playing his video game. He met Hobbes in the all, standing with Mr. Ryan.
"I think that's about all," Darien said.
"Thank you for your help Mr. Ryan. And trust us, we're going to do everything in our power to find your wife."
'And then convict of her felony theft,' Darien thought.
"Thank you, thank you very much. You'll be in touch then?"
"Yes, sir. And if you hear anything or think of anything else, just give me a call at this number."
Hobbes handed Mr. Ryan his card. The three said their good-byes and Darien and Hobbes headed back to the van.
"So, what did the kid tell ya?"
"Same thing Mr. Ryan said he said. Mom left for an errand sometime after his 9 O'clock bedtime."
"The case file said that that picture of Mrs. Ryan was taken at around 2 am. Which means that sometime between 9 and 12 our little housewife left her Betty Crocker abode, and then went to steal some high priced baking equipment."
The men loaded themselves into the vehicle and started to pull away.
"Didn't Eberts say that this was the third burglary like this, this past week?" Darien asked, confused.
"Yeah, and?"
"Well, Mr. Ryan didn't say anything about his wife being gone any other day."
"So, maybe Jane didn't rob all three places."
"Which means, that this could be some sort of housewife conspiracy or something."
"Exactly."
"That's some big craziness there, my friend."
"Very big, Fawkes. Very big. All right, I'll have Eberts do some computer magic and try to find out if any other weird disappearances have been going on."
"Sounds like a plan to me."
"You must always have a plan, Fawkesy. Always."
"Exactly right my man. And I think my plan for the rest of the day is to go home and enjoy the rest of my Saturday in peace. Leave the rest of today's work for Eberts right?"
"That, my friend, sounds like a very good plan."
Hobbes dropped Darien off at his apartment at 6pm. The lanky agent wearily climbed the stairs to his flat and plopped down on the couch. He wasn't sure quite what to do with the rest of his day, until he noticed his Playstation.
"Aha! Alone at last, but still only the demo disc. Ah, well, gotta get warmed up anyway."
Darien popped the disc in, sat through a parental warning about the reasons why you shouldn't buy younger kids the more violent video games, and then tested out each demo on the disc. A few hours later Fawkes decided it was time to put himself to bed. He fell asleep dreaming of all the video games he couldn't wait to spend his money on.
~~~~~
TBC
Feedback is greatly appreciated!!!! Please let me know how you think this is coming along! Thanks a bunch!!