The light commences on Amy Rose, apprehensively raising a fist to knock on her father's door. She hesitates, lowering her arm a bit as if reconsidering other options. Her eyes immediately take focus straight ahead as the door squeaks open. Amy's eyes lock with her father's. No words. The expression on him is illegible; it is vacant of emotion, his gaze transfixed on his daughter's eyes. Then, he moves aside to let her in, his eyes follow her every twitch and stagger like the eyes of the Mona Lisa as you move. Amy keeps a slow pace, ambling down the hallway towards the kitchen. She pauses occasionally to take a glimpse of pictures on the walls. Frank follows silently behind, even his footsteps barely audible. The tension is at such an extreme that the slightest muscle movement is detectable. They finally reach the kitchen, Frank motions a hand for Amy to have a seat. She does so, pulling back the chair cautiously, as if any disturbance of the silence would set off a storm of ear shattering noise.

Frank takes a breath to speak, "So…when did this happen?"Frank shows Amy the newspaper. She grimaces at the obsolete photo, maybe taken two years ago. The smiles are awkward in the picture, almost forced…even Amy's is slightly off center and modest. Amy sitting erect with hands on the table, her fingers drum on the hardwood surface. Shesighs,"Two days ago." Frank: puts his left hand to the top of his head, open palmed. The upper segments of his fingers moving back and forth with hand stationary. "What I don't understand is why I wasn't asked permission. Now that's what a respectable young gentleman would do."

Amy's arms are now folded across her chest, "I'm not really sure Sonic even gave himself permission. He just sort of asked me out of the blue, but I think he did it because…well, the timing just seemed to fit." Frank paces behind her, hisfeet slide noiselessly. "Well, if it was so out of the blue…how do you know he really meant to ask you in the first place. Maybe he'd just prefer to toy with you. You'll end up engaged for the rest of your life without ever getting married." Amy's eyes narrow, her face is slightly flustered."I know he means it!"

"How's that?" Frank puts his thumb upon his chin and stops pacing, directly behind Amy. His body slants on one side. Amy's eyes stare straight ahead, fixed upon the wall in front, "…Because he wouldn't do that to me." Frank argues,"Oh? But hasn't he before?" This question catches Amy off guard and for a moment she does not know how to answer. She glances behind her to look him in the eye, searching for false testimony, though she can see he knows he is right."How would you know that?"

Frankuses exaggurated handgestures,"Oh…my daughter. In raising you I have become an expert in hiding information…it's all in the voice." He shifts his weight to the left and grips the back of Amy's chair.

"This is different. Sonic means it this time…he has to." Amy's eyes plead with her mind to believe her own argument, she knows she has to force her mind to agree with her heart or no one will. Frank countersthis answer with further interrogation,"Even if he is serious, how do you know he'll keep you happy? How do you know he'll be able to provide you will all the basic needs?" Frank and Amy are still face to face, like a staring contest, each hesitates to blink. Amy shakes her head incredulously, disbelieving, "Gee, that doesn't take Isaac Newton to figure out. Sonic takes good care of me; he always has…even if he never wanted to until now."

Frank's frown tightens; he was not expecting such a certain response."How can you be so sure he truly loves you?" Amy rotates to face forward again; she brings together her hands, fingers lace together, praying for him to understand, to comprehend her intuition. "…Well, it's like you and mother. You love her, yet you don't really know how to describe how or why, you just know that you do, and she knew that you did…do."

Amy's hands fall to her lap, her eyes close for an extended moment, "Somehow I know this is what mom wants for me…I'm happy this way, so you don't have to worry about me papa." Frank's eyebrows rise. Although he does not completely understand the significance of the nickname papa, he recognizes that she has not said it since she was the height of his belly button. He stands up straight, nods his head to dismiss her,"Go."

Amy briefly wraps her arms around her father, approximately eight seconds, then bids him goodbye. "Thank you papa."

Frank watches Amy as she reenters the narrow corridor leading to the front entrance, his eyes do not leave the door even as she exits. "Please watch over her Crystal…"


The light then dims on Amy's father and then begins to grow again, this time though, it is focused on a casual looking deli. The jingle of the tiny bells signal someone's entry. It is Sophie, followed by Steve close behind. The two walk past the front counter over to the refrigerated section in the back. Sophie places a hand on her hip, head tilted left. Her stare at the cold kept goods is an indecisive one. Steve, who is still behind her has his hands in the pockets of his semi worn out jeans. He fingers through a small whole in his right pocket. He then brings his attention back to Sophie who has yet to make a decision.

Sophie's left hand is head level, with her index finger behind her ear. "I guess I'll get a bottle of coke." Steve who is looking at the floor, "Nah, not the bottle. Get the cans." Sophie turns to look behind her, both hands now rest on her hips, "Is there really a difference?"

Steve waves hisright hand downward, "Once you open the bottle it goes flat the next day. The cans are better." Sophiesighs deeply,"Okay, fine…I'll get the cans." As she says this, she shakes her head at him teasingly. Steve gives her an ok sign but in the direction as if pointing a gun and winks, "Cool."

Sophie opens the door and takes out a box to the cocoa cola cans and hands it to Steve. They get on the line behind two parakeets in front of them. As they wait their turn, Sophie fishes through her purse for some cash. Steve again puts his hands in his pockets and begins to whistle, gazing up at the ceiling. "Well I've definitely got change…aha!" She triumphantly pulls out a twenty dollar bill. Steve points at her small aqua colored bag, "Maybe you shouldn't keep so much junk in there."

Sophie raises her arms toward the ceiling momentarily as if reaching for something, then slaps them against her sides. "Every time I say I'm going to clean it out, I just say to myself, oh I'll do it later, I'll do it tomorrow…until eventually I just forget about it altogether." Steve answers,"You should write it down, that's what I always have to do so I don't forget stuff." Sophie makes ashrugging gesture,"But what if you don't have a pen, or paper?" Steve makes his own shrugging gesture, but his is more in the shoulders."There's always something. Paper and pens aren't so hard to find where you and I work." Sophie nods acknowledgement,"This is true."

The two felines are so consumed in their "discussion" that they don't realize there is now empty space between them and the counter.

A broad shouldered boar behind theregisterclears his throat, "Next!" Sophie and Steve turn simultaneously, instantly forgetting the topic of conversation, Sophie steps up to the counter and Steve moves to the side, leaning against the counter. He stares at the candy to his left, arranged it seems by color. Twizzlers, Kit Kats, and Take Five bars to one side. Hershey bars, Snickers and Twix bars to the other. Sweet Tarts and Nerds are in the middle. Sophie receives her change from clerk, "Not this time Pepsi-Cola, I don't have enough money on me." Steve frowns disappointedly, makes a raspberry sound with his lips. Swings arm across with a snap,"Aw…shoot."

He walks towards door with exaggerated steps, in a penguin sort of fashion, hands again in pockets. Sophie,looking at the clerk points with her thumb towards Steve while nodding her head, "Yep, that's my boyfriend." The pig nods, but says nothing to her and only grunts under his breath. A wide grin spreads as Sophie leaves. "...I love this job."


To: Amy Rose From: Peter J. Wilkinson Subject: My humblest apology

Miss Rose,

It seems I have made a terrible mistake and owe you an enormous apology.

My previous accusations of you were completely uncalled for, since I did not have the proper evidence to support my suspicion. It was very unprofessional of me and I ask that you and your fiancé come to my office tomorrow at three, so I can ask your forgiveness in person.

Sincerely,

P. Wilkinson