Chapter Eleven:

Sympathy For A Blue Eared Devil.

Alone in the small hotel room she'd been staying in for the past week or so, Babs lay with her feet dangling over the side of her mattress. She glanced idly at the T.V as images of Dot being hounded by reporters played across the screen once again. She sighed and looked away, having already seen reports about the shooting more times than she cared to think about. She closed her eyes, trying to think of something else. And found her mind drifting back to the moment when she first saw Annie.

She could only imagine the negative affect all this messy shooting business was likely having on the young Warner, and couldn't help feeling sorry for her. Buster was no doubt experiencing similar sentiments at the moment. She imagined his distressed expression, and found herself thinking back to her less than civil conversation with him.

She felt more than just a bit guilty for hitting him at the moment. In truth, she had toyed with the idea that he may have actually been telling the truth from the moment she had calmed down enough to stop seeing red.

The idea of such a sweet little cutie like Annie being the product of something so... Well, it just didn't seem right. And as she had told herself once before, this was Buster she was talking about. She wanted to believe his story, no matter how outlandish. But could she actually bring herself to do so? She decided the answer was yes and checked out of the hotel.