Jake came downstairs, and found Chance already sitting on the counter, sipping coffee from his Scaredy Cat mug.

"You're up early," said Chance, kicking his heels lightly against the cabinet.

Jake smirked. "I forget. Does that make you 'pot' or 'kettle'?" He grabbed his coffee mug and looked around. "And Marc's not in yet? That's not good."

"He never went home." Jake looked up, and Chance went on. "Well, he did. Like, fifteen minutes ago. He's off to get spiffed up for the auditors."

Jake shook his head as he poured his coffee. "Nobody should feel less awake than I do now."

"So, no sleep last night?"

"You have to ask?"

Chance leaned closer. "You...doing all right?"

Jake shrugged as he took his first sip. "I guess. You ever just want the whole mess to be over?" Chance's eyes opened wider. "You know, you get so tired, you just want an ending...even if it's not the ending you want. You know what I'm saying?"

Putting his mug to the side, Chance regarded his partner for a second. "No."

"You know, either way, it'll be all over today, and - you know, at this point, I'd rather they just find out than go through another day like this."

"Are you crazy?"

"Nah, just tired." Jake threw back the rest of his coffee, then tossed the mug into the sink. "Did he finish?"

"I dunno. I asked him, and he said kinda."

"Kinda?"

"Hey, I'm just repeating what he said." Chance leapt off the counter. They headed out towards the garage, but ran into Marc as he was coming in. Chance let out a chuckle.

"Hey, check out Mr What-a-Difference-a-Day-Makes here."

Marc adjusted his tie. "No harm in trying to impress the top brass, is there?"

"You'll do better to impress them with the files," Jake said pointedly. "Are they set?"

"Kinda."

"That's what Chance said you said. Now tell me what the heck it means."

"It means kinda," repeated Marc, hotly. "They're as close to being in order as I could possibly make them. You know what you gave me to work with."

"And you knew what you were getting yourself into when you agreed to take the job," answered Jake, just as hotly. "If you couldn't handle it, you should have said so, and we would have found someone else who could." He pushed by Marc into the garage, followed by Chance.

In hushed tones, Chance asked, "Um, Jake, was that such a good idea?"

Jake tore open the hood of the Chevrolet that they'd been trying to diagnose for the last week. "Chance, at this point, I'm just getting ideas, and I can't tell whether they're good or not. So I'm trying them all."

Chance leaned against the car. "Sounds dangerous."

Jake narrowed his eyes at his partner. "Since when did you shy away from danger? And if you're not too busy resting your tail, how about lending a hand here?"

Chance widened his eyes, but decided not to make a bad situation worse. "Sure thing." Geez, he thought, as he grabbed his socket wrench. I never thought I'd end up being the peacemaker of the group.

It was several hours of non-stop work later that Marc peeked his head into the garage. "Jake, Chance, you want to step in here, please?"

They glanced at each other, then headed to the sink to wash up.

"Do me a favor, Chance - let me do the talking," said Jake, reaching for the soap.

Chance half-smiled. "Don't worry."

When they entered the office, Marc introduced them to Lt Aubrey Fellini and Sgt Michael Sakai, the auditors from the Enforcers. Lt Fellini stood just an inch or so below Jake, and although Sgt Sakai was about the same height, he seemed shorter - probably because the lieutenant outranked him. Although Jake and Chance hadn't met either of them before, both of them felt as though they had. Even with their limited contact with the Enforcers hierarchy, Jake and Chance ran into countless numbers of these kats - smartly dressed in uniform, unfailing polite, and so "by the book" as to make Chance sick. Jake, on the other hand, had always found them rather amusing. Just not today.

Lt Fellini, as they both expected, didn't waste much time with pleasantries. "We've pretty much found out what we wanted to know from Mr Greene here." Chance glanced over at Marc quickly, but he was looking at Lt Fellini with an undecipherable look on his face. She continued, "However, we do have several questions for you."

Jake stood a bit straighter. "What would you like to know, Lieutenant?"

Sgt Sakai reached over onto the desk, picked up a file, and showed it to Jake. "There seem to be a lot of purchases under what you categorize as 'Miscellaneous Parts'."

"I'll take responsibility for that, Sergeant," explained Jake. "Mr Furlong and I tend to work rather long hours in the garage, which doesn't leave much time for paperwork. We finally hired Mr Greene here to take care of it for us a few weeks ago. Up until that time, we simply tried to get our paperwork done whenever we had a free moment. But when we actually got around to taking care of our bills, we found invoices for parts where we sometimes couldn't even recall which vehicle we had purchased it for. That's why so many of those bills ended up lumped into that category there."

Lt Fellini tilted her head slightly. "Hm. I guess I could see that." Jake let out his breath. "But of course, this won't be acceptable next time around."

"Oh, no," agreed Jake. "Don't worry. Now that Mr Greene's on board, we should be able to keep on top of it."

"Well, that's that. There's just one more thing then." She leaned against the desk and bored a look through Jake. "Why is this place losing so much money?"

Jake and Chance looked at each other, then back at Lt Fellini. Cautiously, Jake hazarded, "I was under the impression that this garage wasn't designed as a money-making enterprise."

"It wasn't," agreed Lt Fellini. "But there's a difference between not really showing a profit, and losing a bundle, which is what you two are doing." Lt Fellini picked up a file and fingered through it. "And the money certainly isn't going to your paychecks, as a goodly portion of those are going to fix the damage you caused to the Enforcer's building." She looked up. "So where is the money going?"

Jake gritted his teeth. "It's not going anywhere," he said, not quite growling.

Lt Fellini put the file down and crossed her arms. "Would you care to explain?"

"The money isn't going out because it's never coming in." He suddenly seemed to make up his mind. "Will you two kindly come with me?" He turned on his heel and headed back towards the garage. Lt Fellini and Sgt Sakai came after him, followed closely by Chance and Marc, who both looked more confused than the other two.

Jake pointed to the luxury car in the closest bay. "This vehicle is in for a tune-up and brake job, for which we won't get paid." He pointed to the Mazda. "This car keeps conking out for no apparent reason. After working for a week, we may have finally found the problem, and, with any luck, we'll soon have it fixed, for which we won't get paid." He turned outside and pointed to the Dodge. "This one just needs an oil change, for which we won't get paid."

Sgt Sakai interrupted before Jake could find another car to point at. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying this - we're fixing cars, but we're not going to get paid for any of them."

"You personally, you mean," said Lt Fellini.

"Us personally, yes, and the garage generally."

Again, Lt Fellini crossed her arms. "Would you care to elaborate?"

"I can explain in one word, Lieutenant - perqs. That Dodge belongs to a sergeant for the Enforcers. The Mazda belongs to some kid of a captain. And that smooth baby in bay one is Commander Feral's."

"And they're not paying for these repairs?"

"Like I said, Lieutenant, perqs. They don't feel the need to even sign the work order. They just drop them off, tell you what's wrong with them, and they're gone."

"Why aren't you filling out invoices and submitting them to their departments?" demanded Sgt Sakai.

"Tried that," said Jake shortly.

"And?"

"And nothing. The invoices went out, and they were ignored. A few wrote back - requesting the signed work order. Usually there was none. If, by some miracle, there was one, we'd send them a copy. Then they'd claim they never got it, and request another one." Jake paused for breath. "Chance and I were spending more time tracking down the deadbeats than we ever did fixing vehicles. We finally figured, hey, to heck with it - the money's pretty much staying in the Enforcer organization, anyhow."

"This needs to stop as of now," demanded Lt Fellini. "You two are not to perform any work on any vehicle without a signed work order."

"Fair enough, Lieutenant. Can you help back it up?"

"Back it up? How do you mean?"

"Can we get enough authority here to tell someone with three bars across his shoudlers that we aren't going to change his oil because he hasn't signed the work order?"

Lt Fellini turned to Sgt Sakai, then back to Jake. "I don't see any reason why not. You should be able to do that right now."

Jake leaned against the Chevy. "Whether I should or should not be able to do something isn't at issue here, Lieutenant. It's whether or not I'm able to. You're an Enforcer - you should know that."

Chance winced, and even Marc got a queasy feeling. Jake may have crossed a line with that last comment.

Lt Fellini leaned in towards him. "I do not need you, Mr Clawson, to tell me what I should and should not know as an Enforcer."

Jake sighed. "You're right. I apologize." He looked down. "It...has not been a good couple of weeks."

Lt Fellini stood up straight. "Well, we'll let it pass this time. I'll give you a clean audit, with notation of the stipulation that you'd best clean up your parts orders from here on out. Fair enough?"

Jake looked up and smiled. "Lieutenant, that's more than fair. Thank you very much." They shook hands all around, and Lt Fellini and Sgt Sakai drove off.

"We did it!" yelled Chance, offering high fives to Jake and Marc, then turned specifically to Jake. "...despite your little speech there. And you told me to keep my cool!" Jake smiled sheepishly and shrugged.

Marc, who still looked confused, asked, "Um, how much of that speech was true?"

Chance shrugged. "Oh, most of it. We lose most of the money on unpaid invoices, not on the plane and stuff."

"Well, all's well that ends well, I suppose," said Jake in a tired voice. Then he smiled. "But party time tonight. Pizza's on me, gentlemen."

Marc finally returned the smiles. "So it's OK if I go home and sleep off the last few weeks?"

Chance pointed at him. "Consider it an order, Greene. See you tonight - six o'clock."

Wearily, Marc walked over to his motorcycle, started it up, and gave a wave to Jake and Chance before riding off into the street. Once he got home, he managed to get his tie and shoes off before completely succumbing to exhaustion. Curling up on his couch in the living room, he fell asleep immediately, a self-satisfied smile on his face.

It wasn't until five that Marc felt rested enough to crawl up into a sitting position. He took a quick shower, and began getting dressed. Halfway through, he realized he was putting on his work clothes. I don't think they want to see me in nice clothes today, he thought, pulling them back off again. Once attired in a more party-appropriate t-shirt and jeans, he stopped by the kitchen to load a six-pack of beer into his backpack. Slinging it over his shoulder, he headed out, leapt on his motorcycle, and drove off humming to himself.

Upon entering the garage, he couldn't find any trace of either Jake or Chance. Well, maybe they were out on a mission. "Hello?" he said, rather loudly. Vaguely, he heard something coming from upstairs. He dropped his backpack to the floor as he considered - he never had gone upstairs, figuring that to be their personal area. But then he wondered - well, maybe the party's up there. He walked up the stairs and found Jake and Chance in the first room he glanced into. Chance was sitting on a dresser, head downcast, but Marc was more surprised at Jake. He was lying on his back on his hammock, arms crossed. Even Marc could see he'd been crying.

"Um..." Marc said uncertainly. "Is everything OK?"

Chance glanced over at him. "Jake's sister called. His ma's in the hospital. Heart attack."

"Geez. I'm sorry, Jake." Jake nodded slightly, and Marc went on, "Anything I can do?"

Answering for him, Chance said, "Nah, but thanks. We just gotta figure out what we gotta do now."

"What do you mean?"

"Jake's family lives in Selinda."

"Can't you just drive down there?"

"Well, yeah, but I don't know if Jake should be on his own. That's a long drive, and he's a bit...upset." Jake felt a bit strange being talked about as if he weren't there, but he still hadn't mastered himself enough to say anything for himself.

"Can't you both go down?"

"No way. First off, we're too backed up here. Secondly, someone's gotta stay with the TurboKat in case...y'know."

"Oh, right. Didn't think of that." Marc leaned against the wall, thinking. "Did you want me to drive you down, Jake?"

Jake looked over at him, but again it was Chance who answered. "Don't ya have yer other jobs to get to?"

Marc shook his head. "Not really. I took an extra five days off, in case there were other things I had to clean up for you guys." This wasn't entirely true. Marc had actually been looking forward to taking a few days off after the audit, but it seemed wrong to bring that up. "I still have a few freelance pieces, but next project isn't due 'til next month."

Chance looked over at Jake. He really didn't get good vibes from this kat, but he wasn't sure there was any other option.

Jake sat up slowly, then rubbed his face and sighed. "I can room and board you, but can't pay you," he said quietly.

"Sounds more than fair. How long were you...?" Marc didn't know exactly how to ask that, and Jake of course didn't know the answer.

"Once I'm down there, you can head back up if you want."

"All right, cool. Let me go home and get some things. I'll meet you back here in about...half an hour?" Seeing Jake nod, Marc smiled slightly. "Great. See ya in a bit." He dashed out the door, and they heard him fly down the steps.

Chance looked up at Jake. "You think this is a good idea?"

Jake glanced up, confused. "What?"

"Hooking up with him?"

Again Jake sighed. "It's the only decent idea we came up with. C'mon - help me pack."