Terry gulped down the last remaining content of his beer can, drowning in the sights and sounds of the city bar. Being sandwhiched between two drunks didn't bother him. And it didn't stop a certain blonde bombshell from noticing him as she walked in.
"Terry Bogard as I live and breathe," Blue Mary wedged herself between the guy beside him and gave Terry a slap on the back.
He turned up and less enthusiastically said, "hey Mary."
"So much for warm welcomes," she said. Placing an arm on the counter, she signalled her free arm to the bartender to order a drink.
"Heh," he smiled. "You expect too much from a drunk."
She arched an eyebrow, "drunk?" Her detective skills operated as she screened his surrounding enviroment. "You've just had one bottle," she concluded. "That's hardly the old alchohol resitant Bogard I know of."
Mary's drink came to the counter. Terry snickered, "Caught me there."
As she was about to take her first gulp, the man, whose face had been planted on the counter all the time, emerged his head like a hippopotomous coming out of the water. Slowly, with a grunt, a groan, the giant man in the blue business suit raised his mouth to the sky, and let out a giant, audible, burp, only to retire back to the counter top again.
"Charming," Mary said. "There's a better seat over there, let's go."
Free from any unusual distractions, and false pretences of drunkeness, the two found a more iscolated place. "How's it been going?" Mary broke the ice again.
"You know," he said. "The usual stuff."
"The Lone Wolf has yet to find a den, eh?"
He smiled, "as if that'll ever happen. So,how're things on your side of the fence?"
"Crime, drug dealers, conspiracies, arrests, shootings," she smiled. "Nothing new."
"Yeah.."
"There you go, being all distracted again," she touched her nose. "Something's bugging you. Like, say, a certain teenage boy of distinguished pedigree?"
"You saw him?" He perked up.
"The other day, walking around town with someone else, I thought that seemed suspicious," she said.
"I just can't believe he'd pick up and run like that," Terry said. "Who in there right mind does that anymore?"
"So much for not finding a den," Mary's response caught him by surprise. Instead of an understanding tone, she laughed.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Face it," she twirled her finger and winked. "You've become such a mother."
He grimaced, half jokingly and half in geniune offense at that remark. "Hey, now cut that out."
"He can take care of himself," she said. "You know that, you taught him after all. And yet you're still here, worried sick like he's forgotten his coat or wether he's wearing the right socks."
Silence. She continued on, "we've had our chance in the day. Now it's their turn to write down a story for themselves."
"Counting on retirement already?" He said, blinking.
"Well, no," she grimanced. "Of course not. But it's just a test of manhood, or whatever you guys call it these days."
"I s'pose," he looked at the cieling. "You might be right.
But still..."
"Mind if I smoke?" She lit up the cigarette as she said the words, obviously not expecting a reply, or caring if he would have said no. He'd grant him that, this was her house after all.
They found the perfect time. Cristana, the only name he recognized from the half torn list, was alone at home for at least a few hours while her parents worked at the grocery store. He had seen her a few times, dressed up in experimental, and very outrageous, clothes (but still understated as to confuse the 'rents). When he entered, trying to think of ways to invite himself in and initiate conversation, it caught him off guard that she welcomed him warmly.
"You came at the perfect time," smoke puffed out of her mouth as she spoke. Rock tried not to cough. She was curled up into a ball on the couch, dressed in pink nightgown and bunny slippers. One couldn't tell it was the same person he had seen in the stores were it not for the neon blue highlights in her blonde hair. "My mom would have a cow if she knew a guy was in here."
Rock fidgeted nervously and looked at the ground after she finished saying that. Cristana probably detected that uncomfortableness. She kicked her legs in the air and laughed mockingly, which didn't releive anything one bit. "Oh don't worry," she said, still snickering a bit, "that's just usual mom stuff. You know how it is, yeah?"
He flinched. "Well, not really."
She went silent for an uncomfortable period of time. "Lucky."
Hn. "Yea, maybe," he said. Best leave it at that and concentrate on the more important matter. Shingo was around town, he claimed he'd be inspecting but Rock suspected he'd be sightseeing the place a bit. "Well, hey..."
"You know what?" She interupted. Getting off from her seat and walking towards the window. "It's too stuffy in here, isn't it? We must be the only house in the block to be this freaking hot. I keep telling my 'rents to get a fucking air conditioner, but do they ever listen to me? Of course not. Really, mom and dad, when you live in this area you can't afford *not* to get an airconditioner. Am I right or what?"
"It is a...bit hot in here."
That catty smile of hers made him tense up. "A bit hot? You seem like someone who'd be able to handle the heat." She approached, at an uncomfortably short distance, and intensified the smile. "Of course, we could always slip you into something more comfortable."
"I'm fine." Outwardly, he smiled. But inwardly, he concluded this was the worst situation to be caught in.
She shrugged and walked off. "You think I should have spikes?"
"What?"
She rubbed her head. "Y'know, nothing too extreme, just so the highlights can stick out from the rest. I'm bored with the current hair style, too normal, and you seem like someone who'd know about these things."
She continued talking like they were familiar friends. Rock wondered idly wether that cigarette she had smoked was really -just- a cigarette. She continued chatting up a storm about every topic under the sun, except the one he had come for. And any time he tried to open his mouth to change the subject, she interupted.
It was no secret that he was not used to being around girls. He had grown up around mostly men, and interactions with women were very rare. So of course this made him a bit uncomfortable. A bit uncomfortable, however, didn't describe the Cristana situation. Being so casual and self assured around someone who was just a level above stranger was a downright intimidating.
He lost track of what she was saying, but she didn't seem to notice that. The girl didn't even seem to notice how he was unconsciously looking at the clock on the wall every few seconds for the past five minutes. When he came back to reality and managed to catch her train of words, he found a fine opening for the call. She had been talking something about nightclubs, and how they were too tame in the area.
"Tame is right," he feigned. "All the stupid regulations really cramp my style."
"Oh hey," she giggled. "You can't be that much older than me. How d'you get in?"
"Same way you do."
A laugh. "And here I thought you were just some boring goody two shoes. A good looking one, but still boring. You surprise me...umm...I'm emberassed, here I haven't even gotten your name."
"Rock."
"I bet," she smiled in that intimidating way again. "Well, there is this one place that lets you go as wild as you want. No holds barred. It's naturally not open everyday, so as to like, arouse any suspicion or anything, but when you can get in it's perfect."
He felt he was getting closer. "Oh?"
She tapped her lips. "It's a secret."
"Is it?"
"Yep," she beamed. "So I know something you don't know, and that rot. Invite only. Meaning the only way you can get in is through moi."
"I see. But still," he went for the kill. "They probably don't have what I want from a club. Something to give more colors to the atmosphere of the place."
She nodded, and winked. "You assume too much. Of course they have *that*. I was beginning to think you were talking about murdering people. Which, by the by, might be allowed come next month anyway."
"So there is?"
"Naturally. That's where I get my own stash."
Got it. He nodded.
"So then I'll see you tonight?" Another tangent that caught him off guard. Without thinking about it he nodded again, and she giggled happily and gave him a piece of paper. "Here's the address. For this time anyway. And you can't tell this to anyone, you do know that. Not a soul. Seriously, not a single soul."
"Right."
"So WHERE is it again?"
"Keep it down," Rock said. "Don't want everyone to know."
Their voices were fortunately enough drowned out to the rest of the people by the construction worker's jack hammer. Shingo penetrated the paper with his gaze, as if there were some complex code behind it, or maybe just an attempt to determine the exact location of the address.
"Going there tonight," Rock continued. "Before it changes location."
"Ah yes, those villains are slitherly like snakes. We must catch them tonight before it's too late."
"We?" He said. "No, not we. The place is invite only, and I got invited. You'll have to find another way."
Shingo stomped his left foot. "No problem! That sounds like a challenge, and an intruiging one at that. Wait a sec...."
He turned to Rock with a mischevious grin, "you got *invited*?"
The blond boy rolled his eyes. "Oh cut it out."
"Only one thing."
"What?"
"You can't get in!" Shingo said.
"What are you talking..." He had told Cristina he had a fake ID to get her to talk more, but it dawned upon him that he didn't have one with him. "Oh."
"Terry Bogard as I live and breathe," Blue Mary wedged herself between the guy beside him and gave Terry a slap on the back.
He turned up and less enthusiastically said, "hey Mary."
"So much for warm welcomes," she said. Placing an arm on the counter, she signalled her free arm to the bartender to order a drink.
"Heh," he smiled. "You expect too much from a drunk."
She arched an eyebrow, "drunk?" Her detective skills operated as she screened his surrounding enviroment. "You've just had one bottle," she concluded. "That's hardly the old alchohol resitant Bogard I know of."
Mary's drink came to the counter. Terry snickered, "Caught me there."
As she was about to take her first gulp, the man, whose face had been planted on the counter all the time, emerged his head like a hippopotomous coming out of the water. Slowly, with a grunt, a groan, the giant man in the blue business suit raised his mouth to the sky, and let out a giant, audible, burp, only to retire back to the counter top again.
"Charming," Mary said. "There's a better seat over there, let's go."
Free from any unusual distractions, and false pretences of drunkeness, the two found a more iscolated place. "How's it been going?" Mary broke the ice again.
"You know," he said. "The usual stuff."
"The Lone Wolf has yet to find a den, eh?"
He smiled, "as if that'll ever happen. So,how're things on your side of the fence?"
"Crime, drug dealers, conspiracies, arrests, shootings," she smiled. "Nothing new."
"Yeah.."
"There you go, being all distracted again," she touched her nose. "Something's bugging you. Like, say, a certain teenage boy of distinguished pedigree?"
"You saw him?" He perked up.
"The other day, walking around town with someone else, I thought that seemed suspicious," she said.
"I just can't believe he'd pick up and run like that," Terry said. "Who in there right mind does that anymore?"
"So much for not finding a den," Mary's response caught him by surprise. Instead of an understanding tone, she laughed.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Face it," she twirled her finger and winked. "You've become such a mother."
He grimaced, half jokingly and half in geniune offense at that remark. "Hey, now cut that out."
"He can take care of himself," she said. "You know that, you taught him after all. And yet you're still here, worried sick like he's forgotten his coat or wether he's wearing the right socks."
Silence. She continued on, "we've had our chance in the day. Now it's their turn to write down a story for themselves."
"Counting on retirement already?" He said, blinking.
"Well, no," she grimanced. "Of course not. But it's just a test of manhood, or whatever you guys call it these days."
"I s'pose," he looked at the cieling. "You might be right.
But still..."
"Mind if I smoke?" She lit up the cigarette as she said the words, obviously not expecting a reply, or caring if he would have said no. He'd grant him that, this was her house after all.
They found the perfect time. Cristana, the only name he recognized from the half torn list, was alone at home for at least a few hours while her parents worked at the grocery store. He had seen her a few times, dressed up in experimental, and very outrageous, clothes (but still understated as to confuse the 'rents). When he entered, trying to think of ways to invite himself in and initiate conversation, it caught him off guard that she welcomed him warmly.
"You came at the perfect time," smoke puffed out of her mouth as she spoke. Rock tried not to cough. She was curled up into a ball on the couch, dressed in pink nightgown and bunny slippers. One couldn't tell it was the same person he had seen in the stores were it not for the neon blue highlights in her blonde hair. "My mom would have a cow if she knew a guy was in here."
Rock fidgeted nervously and looked at the ground after she finished saying that. Cristana probably detected that uncomfortableness. She kicked her legs in the air and laughed mockingly, which didn't releive anything one bit. "Oh don't worry," she said, still snickering a bit, "that's just usual mom stuff. You know how it is, yeah?"
He flinched. "Well, not really."
She went silent for an uncomfortable period of time. "Lucky."
Hn. "Yea, maybe," he said. Best leave it at that and concentrate on the more important matter. Shingo was around town, he claimed he'd be inspecting but Rock suspected he'd be sightseeing the place a bit. "Well, hey..."
"You know what?" She interupted. Getting off from her seat and walking towards the window. "It's too stuffy in here, isn't it? We must be the only house in the block to be this freaking hot. I keep telling my 'rents to get a fucking air conditioner, but do they ever listen to me? Of course not. Really, mom and dad, when you live in this area you can't afford *not* to get an airconditioner. Am I right or what?"
"It is a...bit hot in here."
That catty smile of hers made him tense up. "A bit hot? You seem like someone who'd be able to handle the heat." She approached, at an uncomfortably short distance, and intensified the smile. "Of course, we could always slip you into something more comfortable."
"I'm fine." Outwardly, he smiled. But inwardly, he concluded this was the worst situation to be caught in.
She shrugged and walked off. "You think I should have spikes?"
"What?"
She rubbed her head. "Y'know, nothing too extreme, just so the highlights can stick out from the rest. I'm bored with the current hair style, too normal, and you seem like someone who'd know about these things."
She continued talking like they were familiar friends. Rock wondered idly wether that cigarette she had smoked was really -just- a cigarette. She continued chatting up a storm about every topic under the sun, except the one he had come for. And any time he tried to open his mouth to change the subject, she interupted.
It was no secret that he was not used to being around girls. He had grown up around mostly men, and interactions with women were very rare. So of course this made him a bit uncomfortable. A bit uncomfortable, however, didn't describe the Cristana situation. Being so casual and self assured around someone who was just a level above stranger was a downright intimidating.
He lost track of what she was saying, but she didn't seem to notice that. The girl didn't even seem to notice how he was unconsciously looking at the clock on the wall every few seconds for the past five minutes. When he came back to reality and managed to catch her train of words, he found a fine opening for the call. She had been talking something about nightclubs, and how they were too tame in the area.
"Tame is right," he feigned. "All the stupid regulations really cramp my style."
"Oh hey," she giggled. "You can't be that much older than me. How d'you get in?"
"Same way you do."
A laugh. "And here I thought you were just some boring goody two shoes. A good looking one, but still boring. You surprise me...umm...I'm emberassed, here I haven't even gotten your name."
"Rock."
"I bet," she smiled in that intimidating way again. "Well, there is this one place that lets you go as wild as you want. No holds barred. It's naturally not open everyday, so as to like, arouse any suspicion or anything, but when you can get in it's perfect."
He felt he was getting closer. "Oh?"
She tapped her lips. "It's a secret."
"Is it?"
"Yep," she beamed. "So I know something you don't know, and that rot. Invite only. Meaning the only way you can get in is through moi."
"I see. But still," he went for the kill. "They probably don't have what I want from a club. Something to give more colors to the atmosphere of the place."
She nodded, and winked. "You assume too much. Of course they have *that*. I was beginning to think you were talking about murdering people. Which, by the by, might be allowed come next month anyway."
"So there is?"
"Naturally. That's where I get my own stash."
Got it. He nodded.
"So then I'll see you tonight?" Another tangent that caught him off guard. Without thinking about it he nodded again, and she giggled happily and gave him a piece of paper. "Here's the address. For this time anyway. And you can't tell this to anyone, you do know that. Not a soul. Seriously, not a single soul."
"Right."
"So WHERE is it again?"
"Keep it down," Rock said. "Don't want everyone to know."
Their voices were fortunately enough drowned out to the rest of the people by the construction worker's jack hammer. Shingo penetrated the paper with his gaze, as if there were some complex code behind it, or maybe just an attempt to determine the exact location of the address.
"Going there tonight," Rock continued. "Before it changes location."
"Ah yes, those villains are slitherly like snakes. We must catch them tonight before it's too late."
"We?" He said. "No, not we. The place is invite only, and I got invited. You'll have to find another way."
Shingo stomped his left foot. "No problem! That sounds like a challenge, and an intruiging one at that. Wait a sec...."
He turned to Rock with a mischevious grin, "you got *invited*?"
The blond boy rolled his eyes. "Oh cut it out."
"Only one thing."
"What?"
"You can't get in!" Shingo said.
"What are you talking..." He had told Cristina he had a fake ID to get her to talk more, but it dawned upon him that he didn't have one with him. "Oh."