"Go on then, get out," coaxed La Roux.

"Where did you take me?" asked Ogilvy.

"My house!" she replied, excitedly.

"Why did you take me to your house?" asked a now annoyed Ogilvy.

"Because you needed a break from work and your home. Everyone at the station knows that you have a boring apartment so I felt like you should enjoy the good side of life."

"Whatever," said Ogilvy. He got out of his car and approached La Roux's front door. He turned and waited for her to open the door. She slowly walked up to the door as though she wanted Ogilvy to admire her body. Ogilvy stood there impatiently, waiting to get inside, steal a few bottles of neo-whiskey and drive home.

When she reached the door, she stared at Ogilvy. "You gonna be a gentleman and open the door for me or what?" she asked.

"I don't have the key, you child." She pulled out a small silver and glowing green rod from her left pocket, jabbed it into the door handle and put it back. Ogilvy turned the door handle and pulled the door across. The walls were made of burgundy wood and the furniture was lined with lightly sparkly titanium. It was impressive to see in a city like New Eden. He pulled up a stool alongside the kitchen bench and sat down, waiting for whatever surprises La Roux was going to spring on him.

"What'll you have?" La Roux asked in a terrible impression of a looter bartender.

"Funny," Ogilvy replied. "What do you have?"

"I've got water and whatever is left in that fridge." She pointed towards a steel fridge sitting in the corner of the kitchen. Ogilvy got up and walked over to the fridge. He was sceptical that there would be anything of interest to him, but found just what he wanted; neo-whiskey. He grabbed two bottles, putting one into his chest compartment and opening the other. "You're not seriously planning on stealing one from good ol' La Roux are you?" she asked.

"I only took one," Ogilvy lied.

"Don't be silly around a tracker. I can see everything. It's okay, I'll let you have it in honour of our new relationship," she said happily.

"We're not friends, you just kidnapped me and now I'm getting compensation for my time."

"I did you a favour," she said. "Now my address is permanently in your known locations and it'll make for some great conversation about how you got to get inside the home of the sexiest tracker in the whole Federation."

"I'm sure it will. I'm leaving now."

"No," she said with an exaggerated 'o'. "Don't leave me, we're best friends!"

"I can assure you that I am closer friends with Aahmiah than you."

"Harsh." Ogilvy made his way back to his car and tried to open the door. The door was locked.

"You didn't," he said out loud. He turned to look back at La Roux standing in the doorway with his car keys in one hand.

"Yeah I did," she said proudly. "And now you have to stay with me until I'm happy."

"You'll pay for this one day." Ogilvy walked back inside and sat on the sofa in front of La Roux's impressively large television. "How much does the Federation pay you? Seriously."

"More than you," she replied tauntingly. "You can tell by how I have a house and you have an apartment."

"Are you going to berate me while I'm stuck at your house or will you be kind to your guest?"

"I'll do whatever I please," she answered teasingly. She jumped into the air and landed next to Ogilvy on the sofa. Ogilvy slid across the sofa, away from her. La Roux saw this as an invitation to lie down on her stomach, hands supporting her head on her elbows and calves moving to and fro in the air. "So what are you investigating?" she asked, the line between genuine and faked interest blurred.

Ogilvy felt like there was no way out of it, and gave in. "There have been groups of looters shooting themselves in the head like a massive suicide pact. The same thing happened to a scouting squad in the warehouses. Commander Ilupen wants me to find out why."

"Metal," she commented. "What do you know so far?"

"I know a bartender named Archie and a name; Mernov. That's it."

"Wow, you're slow."

"That tends to happen when you get abducted by a co-worker." They both returned to silence and continued to watch the television. They were watching a sitcom about an Orus and two humans. The Orus would cover his third eye with a material so he'd appear human and use it to get into places he wasn't allowed if they knew who he was. It wasn't a very funny show.

La Roux spoke up. "I should invite Aahmiah over. He seems more fun than you."

"He won't be interested," replied Ogilvy.

"I like Aahmiah's office," La Roux said. "I especially like the cat thing he has on his desk. Should I get one? I'm not sure because it's his style and I don't want to—"

"Can I go home?" asked Ogilvy.

"Don't you want to see me at least take off my headgear and be amazed by my beautiful eyes?" she replied, putting on an insulted tone.

"Well, it does seem odd we're just watching television while wearing armour. No." Ogilvy quickly dived towards the table and grabbed his car keys. Finally free to go, he marched his way back to his car. He took one final look towards La Roux's door and saw her standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. He drove off as quickly as he could back to his apartment. Ogilvy sent a voice message to Aahmiah: "If she ever comes to my office again, tell her to fuck off." Once he was home, he retracted his headgear, fell back onto his couch and thought about what has occurred the previous two days and what might possibly be in store for him in the future.

-{Belle "La Roux" Isele: Monologue File #72011}

TIMESTAMP: 23/01/0010

HAPPY NEW DECADE! God damn did that party just keep on going on. Don't get me wrong, I love parties, but 25 days could wear out an Orus escort let alone little ol' me. I'm so glad I joined the Federation because if I wasn't with them, I'd still be one of those freakin' losers cleaning up the joint. Maybe if those dickwits were actually useful, they wouldn't be wasting their precious little lives cleaning up after everyone else's enjoyment. But we all know bad things happen to people who deserve it so it's really none of my business. Just like that Higgins. She thought she was such hot stuff rubbing her junk all over the commander the whole time. Fucking bitch. That's not how you get a position. You kill the only other person in line. Just like I did. Take that you stupid fucking bitch! I am the number one tracker in the whole Federation and you won't forget that now will ya? HAPPY NEW DECADE YOU SLUT!

{End Holonote}-