The Sly Cat

--Chapter Two

-:Tennyo

Consciousness slowly returned in inches. The throbbing pain in the center of his skull couldn't possibly be a good sign. It felt like someone was pounding his head with a mallet and was having a jolly good time at it too.

Darien awoke with a groan and clutched his head with his hands. Maybe that would stop the world from spinning so much. He couldn't remember how he ended up on the couch, and when his hands came away with a bit of blood, he couldn't remember how that had gotten there either.

Unsteadily, Darien wobbled into the bathroom that he knew was right next to the couch. The faint orange glow from the streetlights weren't much help, so he had to feel his way through the darkness, hoping to find a light switch. Once he found the switch, he flicked it on, only to wince at the sudden burst of light.

Darien stood before the mirror above the sink. Everything seemed a tad bit surreal at the moment, and he wondered if he really had a concussion. The silence was accompanied by the faint humming of the air conditioner, and beyond that, he could've sworn he heard music.

The music was oddly familiar to him, but his brain found it hard to place where he had heard it. The only feeling that surfaced was of safety and peace. Maybe he really did have a concussion and was beginning to imagine things. If someone were to describe his life, they wouldn't use the words "safety" and "peace". His life went along the lines of danger and risk. Sometimes, he enjoyed the exhilarating rush, but other times, he longed for some peace and quiet.

He examined the mark that stretched from his temple to corner of his right eye. It wasn't black yet, but it definitely would be in a few days. His skin was torn in certain areas, and he added that to the list of questions that was growing with each waking moment.

Darien turned on the faucet and waited a few moments for the water to warm up. He scooped a handful of water and was about to splash his face when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

His hands froze in mid-motion and his body froze. It felt like in the horror movies, when the monster creeps up behind the victim just before it bites his head off. Darien turned his head around slowly, as if that would delay the inevitable.

He almost breathed a sigh of relief, then stopped when he saw the look on Serena's face.

Serena saw Darien's cobalt blue eyes blank out for a second. Had she really hit him that hard? Serena didn't think so. Darien could handle more than that, but he was just being careless. When someone is not paying attention, the impact is ten times harder than if the person had prepared for the attack.

The memories were flooding back, and Darien finally realized why Serena was looking at him like that. The split second of surprise had cost him. He had done the worst thing that anyone in his line of business could do; he hesitated.

Darien turned back to the sink and continued to splash water on his face. The cuts stung a little, but it wasn't unbearable. In a few days, he would heal and forget about this whole mess.

His hand shot out for the towel that was usually hung on the rack beside the sink, but he couldn't find it. As Darien was blinking the droplets of water away from his eyes, he heard Serena give a deep sigh and the sound of her boots walking away.

He inspected the harsh whiteness of his face and wondered if he was suffering from shock. 'Naw,' he thought, 'I just need a tan—and this fluorescent light isn't helping much either.' Or maybe this lifestyle was getting to him. Maybe this whole poetic justice thing wasn't so justifiable to his conscience anymore.

Robbing people who screwed other people over seemed like a great idea all those years ago. Had it really been that long? Surprisingly, Darien was the one that came up with it. He had told Serena what a great idea it would be to take from the rich and give to the poor.

"We could just be like modern versions of Robin Hood!" he had exclaimed with glee.

But the missions grew more complicated and more risky. The game got more dangerous and the stakes got bigger with each job they took. Serena, who previously abhorred the idea, had taken to it soon after their first job. She was the one who began scouting for people, trying to see if they fit the look of someone who'd been kicked in the shins one too many times in their lives. Those types of people were bound to have powerful, and maybe even rich, enemies.

The game isn't fun anymore, Darien realized. Maybe it was time to put an end to it.

Serena came back with the soft red towels, fresh from the dryer. She handed it to Darien who seemed to be spacing out in front of the mirror. When he didn't reach for it, Serena frowned. Did Darien have the balls to do this next job? He was really getting soft for this sort of thing, and that was a big no-no.

Serena sighed. She began drying Darien's face, tentatively dabbing at the area of the bruise. She didn't think she could pack such a wallop, but maybe those extra hours at the gym were actually paying off.

Darien winced when he felt the towel on his scratches. He looked at Serena and saw concern on her face for the first time in a long while. Maybe he could talk some sense into her after all.

He smiled at her when he noticed that she was tiptoeing to get to his cheek. Even with the boots, she was still a short little munchkin. "What time is it?"

"About 6 o'clock," she replied without taking her gaze off his bruise.

"How long have I been out?"

"Not long."

"When are you gonna stop talking to me like this?"

Serena stopped patting his wound with the towel and turned her gaze to his. She stared at him, really stared at him, and it wasn't pretty. "When you get your act together."

Darien stared at his reflection in the mirror and his eyes grew hard. "My act IS together."

She shifted to stand in front of him and lightly touched the bruise. "No, it's not."

He moved her hand away and glared at her. "That wasn't fair, you caught me off guard."

Serena glared right back. "Not fair? Not fair! When the enemy is holding a gun to your head, you don't wonder if it's fair or not! The only thing you should be thinking about is how to get the gun pointed in another direction."

"That's the thing Serena, you're not the enemy. I can't live every second of my life looking over my shoulder, trying to see if someone is going to shoot me. You can't keep throwing these stupid tests in my face," he said while trying to keep his voice calm, "I have already proved, more than enough times, that I am capable of doing this job."

"That was before, Darien. Now… now I don't even know what you're thinking." Serena looked down on the floor and her shoulders even slumped a little. "Whatever. We can't have this discussion right now. We have a client."

Darien didn't want to stop, not when he had a chance to tell her that they didn't need to keep doing this for the rest of their lives. But he saw the slump in her shoulders, as if she were already defeated.

"Client? What client?"

"The client that's standing right outside the office door right now," she said, "Waiting for—quite some time now—a meeting."

"Who is he? How'd he find us? Why are we meeting him on such short notice? Why-?" Daren stopped abruptly as Serena held a finger to his lips to silence him.

"Enough with the questions. We've kept HER waiting long enough. Her name is Lita Andrews, the coordinator of the Save the Orphans Organization. And I found her, not the other way around."

"Why did you look for her?" he asked, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

"I heard she's in a bit of a financial trouble right now. Turns out the bank that's supposed to be sponsoring the organization bailed out on her. The president who made the agreement died last week, and his successor is, shall we say, a bit of a jackass."

"Oh."

"Right, well," she dragged him out the bathroom door and into her office, "Let's not keep her waiting anymore than she already has."

Serena led him to her desk, where he moved to lean against the wall with his arms crossed. Brooding was one of his favorite pastimes.

She crossed the short distance to the door and opened it to let their guest in. A tall, brown-haired woman walked into the room with a regal air of confidence. Her fit figure was clothed in a casual pair of jeans with a fitting short sleeved, dark green blouse. She surveyed her surroundings quickly, pausing for a moment at the only other occupant in the room. She raised her finely tweezed eyebrows at the sulking figure, and proceeded to ignore him.

"Lita Andrews," Serena gestured toward Darien, "Darien Renfield."

Lita gave a curt nod in his direction and continued to look around her. "Neat place you have here."

"Yeah, it's great," Serena responded conversationally, "Used to be a fish market ya know?"

Lita nodded thoughtfully. "Why have you asked me here?"

Serena's lip twitched as she tried to stop her smile from spreading. Bluntness seemed to be a common thing around here. Was it an orphan thing? Surely not.

"Please," Serena placed her hand on Lita's shoulder and guided her toward the chair in front of her desk, "Have a seat."

Lita sat, her posture ramrod straight. Any drill sergeant would be proud.

"Why have you asked me here Ms. Huntington?"

"Please, call me Serena," she smiled, "I'm not a politician so I won't beat around the bush. I heard that your organization is running into some money trouble. I'd like to help."

Lita looked at her suspiciously. "How did you find out and why do you want to help?"

Serena spread her arms out in an open gesture. "Well, as you can see Ms. Andrews—"

"Lita."

Serena nodded. "—Lita, I am a club owner. And as with any place constantly filled with people, word gets around."

"I don't believe you, but all right."

"You're very forward, Lita, bordering rude, but I like that. I want to help you because I have a personal interest in your organization."

"Personal, what do you mean?"

"Do you always interrogate potential sponsors like this?"

"Ms. Huntington, let me make myself clear. I've heard things about you, not all of it good. I only came here because a friend of mine vouched for you. I know I need the money, but I won't take any dirty money. Would I be incorrect to assume that the financial aid you are offering me has been gathered through illegal means in some way?" Lita was still sitting with military precision, but she smiled and leaned back, looking comfortable for the first time. It didn't seem like it was the first time she was dealing with crooks. But then, she wasn't supposed to know that they were crooks.

Serena clenched her teeth but remained outwardly poised. It was bad business to show anger, but people usually had a couple of drinks before they began insulting her. "Ms. Andrews, let me assure you that the money I am offering you is completely legit, as part of my personal profits from opening this club—"

Lita opened her mouth to protest.

"—And if you have any questions about the legitimacy of this club, coincidentally, some inspectors were here just today. Would you like to see their stamp of approval?"

Lita had the grace to blush. "I'm sorry, Ms. Huntington. I usually don't ask this many questions, but with your reputation and my recent dispute with a former sponsor…"

"It's all right, Lita. Now that that's settled, how about a round of drinks?"

Lita stood up and held her hand out. "I'm sorry, Serena, but I really have to run. Thanks for helping my organization."

Serena stood up, smiled, and they shook hands.

"I will have my financial advisor send over the necessary paperwork. Thanks again."

Serena closed the door behind Lita and smiled.

"Why are you grinning like a Cheshire cat for?" Darien asked, "And since when did we start donating to needy organizations?"

"You look better when you're not talking. Why won't you go back to being silent, like you were before?" Serena quipped.

"Ha-ha. Not funny. Now tell me what's going on."

"That, my old friend, was phase one of our next project," Serena replied as she plopped on her armchair and crossed her ankles on top of her desk.

"That can't be it. You look too pleased for your own good. I don't remember you ever getting this excited over one of our projects, at least not at this stage."

Darien moved to the cabinet that was near the aloe vera and took out a bottle of cognac. He poured some for himself and gave one to Serena.

"We are going to rob a bank."

Darien nearly choked. "WHAT!"

"You heard me. We need to move on to bigger game."

"Serena. I thought that what we do is good, in a twisted kind of way. Stealing from the bank isn't! Innocent people put their money in banks!"

"Duh. What's the big deal? The bank I'm thinking of is FDIC insured, so the people will still have their money," Serena shrugged, "No biggie."

Darien shook his head. "Nuh-uh. I hear many words, but none of them good. Why are we doing this?"

"Well, remember the vice-president-turned-president of that bank that is not going to make good on sponsoring Lita's organization?"

"Yes. Need I remind you that it won't be his money that we're going to steal?"

Serena rolled her eyes. "Of course. Once word gets out that his bank has been robbed, people will have less confidence in saving their money there. Everyone will be making withdrawals and pretty soon…kaplop! No more bank!"

"All right. So what did he do that was so terrible that you're going to ruin him like that?"

"Darien…Darien," Serena prodded, "Come on. Do I really need to go into that much detail?"

He gave her a flat look.

"All right. You should've listened to the bullshit excuses he was dealing. Even though Lita and the former president signed a deal, he said that it is now void because the president is dead."

"How'd he die, by the way?"

"Heart attack."

"Oh."

"He was saying some nonsense that the president was getting old and he didn't have the members of the board approve of this transaction, that it was his personal venture, that the bank does not support it, that he left no mention of it in his will, and blah blah blah. A bunch of bullcrap. You're with me on this one, right Darien? You know what we hate most in the world."

"Deal breakers."

"Yes."

Serena leaned back and smiled smugly. "End of phase two."

"What!" Darien exclaimed, "Convincing me was part of the plan?"

"Of course. Why do you think I invited Lita over?"

Darien said nothing.

"I know you like her. I like her too. You're getting too soft Darien, so I had to bring in some convincing tools."

"Does Lita know about this?"

"No. Does it matter? What I said to her was true. I will be donating money to her."

"Out of your own pocket?"

" 'Course not. Why do you think we're robbing a bank for?"

"So you did lie to her. You said you would be offering your own money."

"Well, I will be initially. When I fill out the papers she's sending over, I will be writing a big fat check in my name that will be drawn out of my account."

Darien shook his head in distaste. "That's cutting it a little thin, Serena. Personal interest my ass. I almost thought you were doing it for the orphans."

"But I am Darien," Serena blinked innocently, "Remember the shitty food we had to eat? All those second-third-fourth-hand clothes? Those toys? I am doing it for the good of the orphans."

"Cut the crap, Serena. I see straight through you. No wonder you were so nice to those investigators. Not only are you going to financially devastate the banker and make the government pay for the losses, you're trying for tax exemptions for donating to a charity."

Serena shrugged and looked at her finely manicured nails. "It's a small plus."

"You are such a bitch."

Serena smiled devilishly. "I know it."

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That's it for now. As always, feedback (preferably full ones) is greatly