"…Well, I don't know," Marlene stuttered, "I was never told much more than I needed to know," Marlene paused as if trying to recall something, "No, he did say one thing… he said someone had taken everything from him, that he wasn't sure what he wanted yet. He just said right now all he needed was a lay of the land."

"Well, thanks, Miss Adler for what you've told us." Kowalski could tell she probably didn't know anymore, at least, nothing they didn't know already.

"I'm sorry I couldn't help you more," Marlene replied, as the visitors stood to leave.

"You can't tell us more than you know." Skipper reassured, following Kowalski towards the door. This would stay strictly business.

Marlene lay back across on the sofa, shutting her eyes and trying, at least for a few seconds, to block out the world.

"… How's the arm holding up?" she heard Kowalski ask from outside the door. As her eyes shot open she noticed that he hadn't shut the door properly.

"It's fine," Was Skipper's reply, "Is Private trying to get even with me by being late at the most awkward point possible?"

"Private trying to get even with you? Are we talking about the same lunicorn lover?" The voices started to fade as she guessed they walked down the ancient staircase. Didn't they know what elevators are for? However the second comment was louder and strangely well-articulated, "You know that explosion could have killed you?"

"That's the least of my worries. He wasn't even trying at that point, embarrassingly enough." Marlene frowned.

"I hope Private has better luck than us. Otherwise…"

"At least with what we've got you'll be able to get Blowhole off your back." Skipper interrupted.

"Blowhole can't exact his revenge if your ghost from the past gets us first…" the pessimistic comment was cut off at the same time the sound of a door shutting, but Marlene had heard enough.

With a quick, controlled movement Kowalski added another red circle to the map, denoting the location of yet another possible staging location. He folded the map and placed it in the drawer of his desk. He had to say, he'd missed the efficient order of which while he was away, and his attention moved to the case files on Manfredi and Johnson he'd gotten from his source in the department, the next task on his list. He was disappointed to think Private was probably searching the whole city for him, yet he would never consider the fact he'd never moved from the very study he'd confronted him in.

The telephone snapped him out of his meditation. Perhaps he'd been a bit rash in making the assumption Jones would not consider searching his current location.

"Who is this?" He asked as he picked up the receiver, disturbing the layer of dust settled there. He never was one for pleasantries.

"Marlene." Was the timid answer. He had to say, it was interesting how Private had gotten her to talk, "Listen, I was tricked," she pleaded desperately, "Skipper told me…"

"I am well aware of what occurred."

"You won't… I heard him saying…"

"He did escape, didn't he?" Kowalski answered rhetorically. She obviously wasn't as worried as she pretended. She was well aware of what was going on, he could tell that by the way she was handling the situation. It was a common trick amongst both the seasoned and the rookies who considered themselves attractive to play dumb, flutter their eyelashes and hope to win your sympathy.

"I've got the security feed from that HQ place," Marlene offered, though the silence told her the buyer wasn't impressed, "And, there's also someone else they're working with," she continued hoping for a better response, "Skipper got the records that went missing after the police raid on Penguin from him," There was further silence. Kowalski scowled. Now this, was dangerously unexpected, "I don't know his name…"

"Approximately six foot one, red hair, blue eyes, a scar crossing the left side of his mouth?"

"Yes, that sounds like him."

"I want everything you can get. Everything."

"Where can we meet?" Kowalski pulled the map from his drawer and after a few moments consultation answered:

"Alex Lionel studios, sound stage 7. I assume that it wouldn't be suspicious to your guard for you to attend a special screening of the film you missed, and the crowds will provide you with adequate opportunities to get yourself lost."

"What about tickets? I mean, it's kind of a celebrity event and all."

"An acquaintance will let you in." He hung up the phone. There was nothing more she could tell him. Still as he replaced the map and shut the drawer, the telephone cord was caught on article of furniture, knocking the contraption over. As he replaced the phone on the desk his eye fell on a telegram, yellowed slightly with age. Below the heading and address, the message at the time had been nothing that out of the ordinary, but now even the first line was enough to stir almost tears. However he couldn't stop himself from reading the message, start to finish:

"FATHER HAS MADE FREQUENT TRIPS TO ZOO WAREHOUSE. POSSIBLY STORAGE AREA YOU HAVE BEEN SEARCHING FOR.

DORIS C/O GLORIA MELMAN"

"Oh Doris…" he muttered, letting the paper fall to the desk. The memory that sprang to mind was certainly a candidate for his greatest mistake.

March 9th 1966

Kowalski was drumming his pen on the desk, as he had been doing for the last half hour. Every once and a while he'd glance down at the figures before him, but he really wasn't in the mood. Technically, he was supposed to have them done yesterday, literally, but it wasn't like there was anything anyone would do if he didn't. He was one of those strange, melancholy moods in which even Barry would know to steer clear of him. Skipper would have knocked him out of it with a witty attack and between forty to sixty pushups, but then that was ten years ago.

"…I have to see him!" a female voice pleaded, though it was too faint to recognise. He could hear the sound, almost of a scuffle. Probably someone from finance after those figures.

"He's busy right now, I'm sorry." He heard another person reply. Busy, yeah right. Kowalski navigated around the desk and walked towards the door. Anything would be better than sheer boredom, and it would certainly give him something to think about if his excuses were going to be more creative than his last ones.

"… You don't understand, it's urgent…!" The door opened and Kowalski's eyes fell on the woman who was so eager to see him.

"Doris?!" He exclaimed. Doris stopped struggling, and their eyes met for a split second, though she quickly looked away.

"You know her, sir?"

"…I don't know how he found out," Doris recounted to the purse she had in a death grip. The years had been kind to her, though she was by far no longer the young woman he'd known, he was still mesmerised by every move she made. However her brow was creased with worry and the dark circles under her eyes only added to the effect, "Maybe he got hold of one of the telegrams, but he knows I've been spying on him. I probably wouldn't be here if Francis hadn't warned me," For the first time since she'd entered, Doris hazarded a quick glance up from her bag, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have… There was just nobody else…"

"I'm just glad you're safe, Doris," Kowalski replied, "and I'll do anything I can to maintain the status quo."

"I tried to find Blake," She continued to apologise, "but they told me…" the pale façade Doris had barely kept up slipped away, and the very last walls of control crumbled, "How did it all happen?!" she choked, once she was able to continue, "They all ended up dead. Skipper… Marlene…"

Doris stopped abruptly, and Kowalski felt her tense. He hadn't even realised he was holding her, and immediately mumbled an apology. He'd respected her wishes to be left alone, and would never want it to even cross her mind that he might have tried to take advantage of her momentary weakness.

"I guess it was going to happen sometime." Doris sighed, holding him tighter in response to his attempt to step back. Kowalski froze like a statue, caught in limbo between what was the right thing to do, and what he knew was the truth.

"You were right though," He admitted sadly, finally deciding on the former, and stepping back to a decent distance, "It never would have worked. I did change."

"Neither of us are getting any younger," Doris countered, once again closing the gap between them, "and I'm almost as wanted as you now." Kowalski could see there was no fighting it. They weren't sure if it was their love that had survived all those years, or just a mutual need to no longer be alone that brought them together once more, shielding each other from all the world would throw at them.

"You don't have to worry about that," Kowalski answered at what was barely a whisper, but there was a determination that reminded Doris of the ferocity he'd fought her with in Munich when they were barely children. His arms gripped her just that bit tighter as if to demonstrate the point, "I will never let anyone hurt you."

"Hey, chief," Barry reported, letting himself into the room, "Recon team checked the warehouse… Sorry, sir." He immediately apologised, though at first he thought he was seeing things. The boss with a girl? And looking, well…

"He's there?" Kowalski asked, his eyes lifting from Doris, who'd fallen asleep out of pure exhaustion, her head rested on his shoulder, an almost peaceful expression on her face. They'd just sat there, he didn't even know how long, until she'd finally drifted off. There was little to talk about that wouldn't hurt so they just sat there conversing with their thoughts, and occasionally making a comment or two on a book they'd read, though they stayed far away from such topics as ethics and local politics.

"Yes sir."

"Thanks." Barry took this as his cue to leave, though at the last moment snatched a second glance before he left. He had to be dreaming.

Kowalski carefully shifted Doris' weight, allowing him to stand up from his perch on the desk. He quickly surveyed the room, and decided that the couch was the best place to relocate her. As gently as possible he picked her up bridal style, and was surprised by how light she was, placing her delicately on the article of furniture. He then turned to leave, but noticed that Doris' left arm had fallen from the couch. He lifted the hand to replace it on the furniture, though as time came to place it he was filled with sudden dread at the thought of looking down. Still, he couldn't just stand there, so finally he forced his heart to obey his need to not look like an idiot, and hoped that his guilt laced fear of a metal band around her ring finger wouldn't present itself.

"I lied about moving on." Doris muttered, lazily opening one eye. Kowalski smiled. To hell with chivalry.

"I'm just going to check on a lead. I'll be back in an hour," Doris' eye closed and as he left the room he switched off the lights. He paused a moment, and a thought that hadn't crossed his mind for many years occurred to him as he watched her sleeping form. It hit him like a tidal wave: the fact that every time he went out might just be the last time he ever saw her. Suddenly the money and the power didn't matter, and for the first time in years, he was afraid to die, "G'night, Doris." He whispered. When he came back, they would run away, so far away, nobody would ever find them again

What he didn't know however, was that a few moments after he left Doris sprang to her feet, grabbed her coat and left the room.