It was afternoon, he could tell by the intensity of the suns glow on his face. He was dozing slightly. Once again hungry. The door slammed to the main room and he heard footsteps. His hand went for his gun, but he relaxed when he heard bags being placed on the counter. It seemed his room mate had been shopping.

He frowned, thinking about her. She seemed like a paradox. Sometimes she let him have power and other times she made it clear that she was in control. And she seemed uncertain as to why she helped him. This did not help the CIA officer in his reading of her character.

He walked confidently into the hall. Aware of the gun in his belt.

He heard a sharp movement as she spun, a gun cocked. Then she saw it was him and put it away before he could say anything.

"So, you're still here" she said it like a statement.

He did not answer. He nearly tripped over the stool, which she still hadn't righted. He said nothing, just stood it up and sat down on the stool again.

She continued unpacking whatever it was she had bought. He waited. But once she was finished she went into the living room and switched on the TV.

"What's for lunch?" he asked finally. Annoyed at having to ask for something.

"Oh, whatever is in the fridge. I think there is some microwave dinners in there. Help yourself, third shelf on the right" and he heard her turn back to the TV. He frowned. What was this? He stood and felt his way around the counter to the fridge. He felt for the handle, opened it and found that there was a packet of sorts where she had said. So he took it out and after more feeling about, he found the microwave. But he could not see the buttons. Unfortunately his pride would not allow him to ask her. He felt almost like throwing the food against the wall, but decided against it.

He was able to find the 'open' button and put his food in. Then he felt over the other buttons, trying desperately to distinguish between them or remember where they were from his own personal microwave incidences. Finally he pressed the second button on the left, followed by two more buttons on the right and the start button. It started up and Sands went rummaging through the drawers looking for a fork. In the first draw he found cloth of some kind, in the second all the cutlery. Knives, spoons and forks. As he clasped his chosen fork the microwave beeped. He ejected the nuked food and sat on his stool. He removed the lid with a wince, because it was hot and the steam smelt. But he did eat his creation, which turned out to be beef and hard rice.

.................Rana..............

She watched him from the lounge room. It was actually quite interesting how he got over the lack of help so fast. She would have pulled a gun on someone by now. But he persevered. And he succeeded too. She grinned as he began to eat, and then turned back to the TV. She had rented a video, the 'Lone Ranger'. She did like westerns.

...............Sands...............

The rice tasted like shit. But to him it tasted wonderful. He was feasting on his success. And to Sheldon Jeffery Sands, nothing could taste better.

The day passed uneventfully. After watching the 'Lone Ranger' Rana went into the back room and continued to type. Sands walked around the area, learning it off by heart. The only place he didn't learn was the back room, where he guessed all her stuff was. She seemed to have slept on the couch though, while he had the bed. It was around afternoon when she emerged. He was sitting at the kitchen counter, swinging back on his stool while he fiddled with his gun.

He heard her crack her neck and silently yawn.

"I'm going to get some food. Want anything?" she asked as she headed for the door, slipping on some scuffs and grabbing her car keys off the hook that was connected to the wall.

"Pork" he grunted.

She chirped an overly bright "okay" and left. Sands sat there for two minutes more, then went into the back room.

Upon opening the door he became aware of how full it was. There was a humming from a piece of machinery that was running. It may have been the computer or the bar fridge in the corner.

Sands walked carefully into the room, knowing his roommates habit of leaving things on the floor.

His foot contacted shoes, a pile of clothes, a chair and the wall. The clothes were of little interest. The desk on which the computer sat had a draw. And, being as he was a CIA agent he opened it. Not needing to console himself that this was okay to do. There was paper and pens and a gun. He took out the weapon; it was heavy, and it was a revolver. A .45 colt long barrel to be exact. Although Sands was not one for guns, the only thing about a gun that he was interested in was if it was loaded or not.

After feeling over the gun, and the bullets that she kept in the draw (something he found incredibly stupid, he could easily have killed her so many times since coming here), he moved to the fridge. It was on, and full of soft drink. He frowned at this and moved over to the other corner of the room, where there was a desk. On it was parts, gun parts. And other tools for the use of building guns, he supposed. There was a half finished cool drink can, hot and flat, as well as a radio. The same radio that had led him here two days ago. Was it two days ago? He didn't know how long he had slept... but things like time didn't matter much to him anymore.

On top of the computer sat a portable disk player, the one she had been using this morning. And there was a pile of cd's. He tapped them four times and decided to listen to one.

She got back thirty minutes later, with precooked food. Sands ate the greasy stuff, as did she. She also had another video. So after she finished eating she went to the lounge room. Sands joined her on the couch, and they sat in silence.

It was shaping up to be a pretty peaceful night, but all pretense of that flew out the window when the door blew open and no less than fifteen men, armed to the teeth, burst in. The sound of the door slamming against the wall was met with Rana throwing all her weight backwards and tipping the couch. Sands had thrown himself to the ground, and forwards, and he was joined by Rana as she scrambled back over the couch seeking cover. Bullets tore at the place. The TV exploded, and Rana let out a string of curses.

"That was a NEW TV!" she snarled, then crawled sideways, probably making a break for her computer/gun room. Sands still had a trusty gun in his jeans, and it was in his hand almost without him thinking. He listened to the soft thuds of footfalls of his enemies, and sprung up, getting off three successful shots before ducking for cover again. All was chaos from the enemy front. Sands was grinning for some unknown reason as they repeatedly missed him. He took down two more as they rushed the couch. Then Rana burst out of the side door, taking them by surprise as the sound of an M16 filled the room. Five more fell, the others must've hidden behind corners or the kitchen counter. There was some incoherent cursing as Rana ran forward. Sands almost shouted out that she was fucking crazy, she certainly sounded like it, and rushing the enemy hardly ever worked. There were four shots, one hers. Another cartel fell.

She was yelling a continuous stream of curses at the men, by the sounds of it; she was frothing at the mouth. Sands listened but the opposition seemed to have its hands full. He stood, placing his back against a wall, out of view of the hidey holes accommodating his foes. Or so he hoped. He was still... there. The rustle of cloth as someone stood. Sands aimed and fired... he missed; but he fired again anyway, and got the sucker with the second bullet. The mortally wounded man made a 'hurk' sound as he collapsed, sending a stream of bullets up the kitchen cupboards and the walls as he fell. Three more fell to Rana's riot and silence descended upon the room. All that could be heard was the panting of the survivors.

"Well. Just great; now I have to leave. Bastards" she growled in her throat as she went over the bodies. Sands listened to her rummages through pockets then stand and kick one of them in the ribs before going into her room and slamming the door. He went into his room and packed his minimal belongings. It fit into one small bag. He found himself waiting next to the door when she emerged.

She strode out angrily, pulling a backpack onto her back. "Let's go" she muttered. Then stopped. "Almost forgot" she said going back into her room. Then emerging with a few cans of soft drink. She opened one and started drinking as she walked out the totaled door. Sands raised an eyebrow. What about her computer?

"I had all the files backed up on a disk" she answered his unspoken question from the door. He hmphed and followed her out the room. He may as well get a lift from here. With her at least it was free.