("Changing of the Guard"
by Bob Dylan

Sixteen years,
Sixteen banners united over the field
Where the good shepherd grieves.
Desperate men, desperate women divided,
Spreading their wings 'neath the falling leaves.

Fortune calls.
I stepped forth from the shadows, to the marketplace,
Merchants and thieves, hungry for power, my last deal gone down.
She's smelling sweet like the meadows where she was born,
On midsummer's eve, near the tower.

The cold-blooded moon.
The captain waits above the celebration
Sending his thoughts to a beloved maid
Whose ebony face is beyond communication.
The captain is down but still believing that his love will be repaid.

They shaved her head.
She was torn between Jupiter and Apollo.
A messenger arrived with a black nightingale.
I seen her on the stairs and I couldn't help but follow,
Follow her down past the fountain where they lifted her veil.

I stumbled to my feet.
I rode past destruction in the ditches
With the stitches still mending 'neath a heart-shaped tattoo.
Renegade priests and treacherous young witches
Were handing out the flowers that I'd given to you.

The palace of mirrors
Where dog soldiers are reflected,
The endless road and the wailing of chimes,
The empty rooms where her memory is protected,
Where the angels' voices whisper to the souls of previous times.

She wakes him up
Forty-eight hours later, the sun is breaking
Near broken chains, mountain laurel and rolling rocks.
She's begging to know what measures he now will be taken.
He's pulling her down and she's clutching on to his long golden locks.

Gentleman, he said,
I don't need your organization, I've shined your shoes,
I've moved your mountains and marked your cards
But Eden is burning, either brace yourself for elimination
Or else your hearts must have the courage for the changing of the guards.

Peace will come
With tranquility and splendor on the wheels of fire
But will bring us no reward when her false idols fall
And cruel death surrenders with its pale ghost retreating
Between the King and the Queen of Swords. )

CHAPTER 4: The Library and the Phone Call

O-Ren sat in the back of the Chevy van with the others, while Bill occupied the driver seat and Sofie Fatale sat in the passenger. They were on their way to El Paso, it having to have been an hour after taking Bill's personal jet to get there. It had been hard to believe that Black Mamba had moved to El Paso and not somewhere that she wouldn't have been most likely found by Bill and the others. The plan that Bill constructed and informed them of on the plane was simple: Drive down, stay the night and kill her in the next morning. Though, almost everyone was calm from what O-Ren noticed. Elle and Vernita played Rummy in the back while Budd, who sat next to O-Ren cleaned his Hanzo sword, humming "You're Cheating Heart" by Hank Williams. She wished that Budd wasn't sitting next to her with his sword out like he had it.

"Budd," O-Ren began, "Could you please put your sword away?"

"Why?" Budd asked playfully, "You're afraid it's gonna bite you?"

"Budd," Bill's voice caught his attention.

Budd had looked up to see his brother's eyes in the rearview mirror, staring at him with a serious coldness to them.

"Please put the sword away, and don't pick on O-Ren. You know how she feels about Hanzo swords."

Budd smirked and complied with his brother's wish, but did seem a bit disappointed in doing so. He sheathed the sword, the sound it made as it slid into it sent a rollercoaster of shivers up and down O-Ren's spine. She looked at the rearview, spotting Bill looking at her as if he were asking if she was okay. She nodded, letting him ease his mind and his concern. Everyone in the group, including Budd, knew that O-Ren had a fear of Hanzo swords. It started the moment Bill killed her father and the close call she had with death when her mother was killed. It wasn't just Bill's sword that she was afraid of, but any Hattori Hanzo sword. She was somewhat glad that Hanzo retired, that he no longer made swords and owned a Sushi bar. At least she knew the odds of her encountering someone with a Hanzo sword and a vengeful hatred was very slim, odds being in her favor. She drifted off into the library of her mind, almost an old Victorian style library that would most likely be found at a university. She had all of her thoughts, ideas, knowledge, memories and history properly catalogued, filed and placed. As she passed the front desk, she noticed a newspaper resting there, almost looking as if it had recently been printed. She spun it around before picking it up, noticing the title of the paper: The Ishii Daily News. She noticed the first headline as she read it.

"Riders on the Storm!- In the most recent events, Bill, the Snake Charmer, and his group, the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad, are currently en route to the Dew Drop Inn in El Paso, Texas. The group was on their way to perform a hit that will affect them both professionally and personally. When asked how she felt about what she and the others were about to do to [BEEP], a long time friend and associate, she had only this comment: "She not only put Bill through Hell, she put me through one as well. Though I still think of her as both a sister and a best friend, she should suffer for the emotional and physical pain she had put me through the past few months. I can only hope she understands, seeing that she would do it to me if the situation were in fact reversed."

She also noticed the second front page article as she flipped it over, noticing a picture of both her and Greg.

"O-Ren Ishii - Under Suspicion?- A report issued by the Emotional Center of O-Ren Ishii stated that there was a brief argument between O-Ren and her current boyfriend, an E.R. doctor named Greg Lowndes. The argument started when Lowndes tried to question Ms. Ishii about her trip. However, before it could become heated and before she could tell Greg the truth, Ms. Ishii was picked up by a member of her group. Currently, there are plans for an apology phone call and she is currently holding back two major secrets from him. As for the possibility of her telling the truth about those two secrets being likely, has yet to have been determined."

She dropped the newspaper into the recycling bin, yawning as she walked through the library's isles of books as she reached the audio/visual room. She entered, closing the door behind her. There was a massive collection of video and music in the room, some of them being films she recalled seeing, dreams that she remembered when she woke up or songs she heard before. She flipped though the old LP stack, finding an LP titled "Songs that Remind Me of Greg", a compilation of songs she put together. She was careful to remove the record out of the sleeve, placing onto the turn table that sat on the table next to the collection. The speakers came alive with loud silence as she sat the needle into place. The first song on the record was "Nights in White Satin" by The Moody Blues; it began to play as she took a seat in a leather lounge chair. She never really knew why the song reminded her of Greg, but the first time she heard it, which had been a couple of days after they had coffee post "Bound" screening. Upon hearing it, she thought about him. Even though she was relaxing in a lounge chair in her mind, in reality, she still sat in the back of the Chevy van next to Budd, looking aimlessly out the window next to her.

Budd rang the bell at the front desk, seeing that the manager or the person running the establishment wasn't there. There was the muffled sound of a porn movie soundtrack playing from a back room, the door closed and a little ways behind the counter. Budd rang the bell again, with no avail.

"Either someone poor sucker is getting lucky and is using the movie to get them into the mood, or they're not getting any at all," Vernita said as she used her SOG knife to scrap away dirt from under her fingernails.

Budd rang the bell once again, this time a bit louder in order to catch the attention of whoever it was in the back room.

"This place is a dump," Sofie said, checking her shoes to see if she had stepped in something on the way in.

Budd rang the bell for the last time, before Elle had finally lost her patience, snatched the bell off the counter and chugged it at the door. It smashed through the wood, disappearing from view as it entered the room. However, the only last remains of the bell was the sound it made as it hit something glass on the inside.

"Hey!" Elle called out, "Put your dick up and get out here! We want rooms!"

Vernita smirked at the sudden outburst from Elle.

"Didn't we agree that Budd was the short tempered one?" she asked Elle.

"Eat me," Elle responded in a low voice.

"Nice invitation, but I don't prefer blondes. Hell, I don't prefer women. I'll stick with dicks, thank you. And if you don't like that, then you can kiss my motherfuckin' ass, CMS."

Elle rolled her eye at Vernita's sarcastic remark.

"Girls, play nice," Bill told them, almost as if taking on the role of a father trying to overrule his children, "Or I'll make you two sit in separate corners."

O-Ren had been silent throughout the whole time, not really paying attention to the others. She had been playing the scenario of the phone call she would have to make over and over again in her own head, hoping to figure out all possible outcomes, including both favorable and unfavorable. Of course, she couldn't forget what started the brief discussion that would have escalated into a full on war. Normally, with such a situation, it would have been a woman starting it, but it wasn't for Greg and O-Ren. But instead of another woman being involved, it was what wasn't said that started it.

Greg had been assigned to work that day, getting up about 6:55 a.m. She had been sitting on the couch in the living room, waiting for one of the members of the group to pick her up. On the coffee table in front of her was a carry-on bag, with the usual items. Maybe she should have waited outside, but she didn't want to leave Greg without a note saying what she was doing. Greg seemed a bit surprised by finding her there, sitting on the couch, in the darkness of the room before he switched on the lights.

"O-Ren," Greg seemed concerned, "What's going on?"

He had been concerned for her the past few months, ever since the beginning of the fiasco, back when she had thought Black Mamba was dead. Though she wanted to tell the truth about what she was going to do, she couldn't. She had to lie, and she knew it. She knew that telling the truth would risk destroying everything they had together. That was probably the reason why Vernita lied to Dr. Bell, in order to keep the peace. But then again, Vernita easily knew how to lie. He father was Charlemagne Green, one of the top five poker players in the world. His lies and bluffs were so good, that Charlemagne could have easily convinced the Pope to become a porn star. It was a talent that had been passed down to Vernita and had helped her out on many assignments. A couple of times, she had to play a role like a Charlie's Angel. The hit would probably be Vernita's last hit, seeing that she and Dr. Bell were currently married and were trying for a child. This thought sent shivers down O-Ren's spine, much like the sound of the Hanzo sword as it was sheath did.

"Bill needs me to go with him."

"What?"

"Bill has found [BEEP]'s parents. He's going to El Paso to tell them what happened to her."

Greg looked at her for a moment in silence.

"Okay, why does he need you?"

"Emotional support," was the only answer she could come up with very quickly.

She noticed that Greg had still been half asleep, his eyes telling her of this. He moved over in a slow pace, taking a seat next to her on the couch.

"Bill can find emotional support with Jeanie, Elle or Budd," Greg said, taking her hands into his, "You barely have emotional support to help him."

It was at that moment she began to recall the moment that she had been informed of Black Mamba's "demise". She couldn't think straight, temporarily losing her mind out of grief. She didn't know what to do or what to think. She finally thought, through the sorrow and hurt, to crawl underneath the bed. She did. She wanted to revert back more than ever, revert back before everything that was there and wanted to feel the innocence once again. She didn't know how long she stayed under that bed, looking up at the mattress, crying, but it had been long enough for Greg to come home and find her. He had carefully pulled her out from underneath, not wanting to hurt her. She had continued to cry, even after accepting the warmth of Greg's arms as he had sat her down on the bed. She couldn't remember what she said, but knew that it had to have been about Black Mamba's death. If there was one thing she remembered vividly, it was her asking him this:

"Make love to me. Please, I don't want to feel like this anymore."

Seeing that he had been loyal to her, he would often respect most of the things she asked him to, of course that had been with some questioning at times. Like asking Black Mamba to take the Lisa Wong hit for her so that she could go on the trip to meet Greg's parents, it was one of the many things on the list of not so good ideas that she had begun to make for herself. And in the three months that had passed, she paid for both mistakes.

"I've got to go," O-Ren replied.

"Why?"

O-Ren couldn't make eye contact with Greg at that moment, her feeling as if his eyes were digging into skin. She wasn't sure where the conversation was going, but she could sense that Greg's concern and worry had turned slightly in a different direction. She noticed it when he got up, taking a few paces away from her and turned around to look at her, now his eyes more awake than before.

"Are you sleeping with Bill?"

The question caught her attention, making her look back at him. She wasn't sure where the question came from, but it wasn't something that Greg would just ask unless he was suspicious about something.

"What?" she let out the question, almost startled, "That's the most absurd thing I've ever heard."

"It may be, but I have asked you a question."

"The answer is no."

"O-Ren, please don't lie to me. I'm not stupid, okay? I know something is going on. I've noticed how you always go to him after he pages you. The trips you make. I mean, why would a mortician need to go out of state for? And in the past two days, you have avoided me touching you."

She couldn't believe that he would think such a thing. But then again, men were a lot more paranoid than women were when it came to their spouse and the fear of them cheating.

"Greg, you are my life. You are the only many I love and will ever be with."

"Then why don't you talk to me anymore, O-Ren? I mean, you never talk about your childhood. I've never heard you mention anything about a family, except for your friends. And there have been the mood swings, which I understand. But avoiding me until last night, I don't get."

Nor would you, she thought to herself, nor would you understand what I did to us, Greg. Not just what but why as well.

"O-Ren, please, just tell me the truth."

She wanted to tell him. She wanted nothing more than to let the one she loved know everything about who she was. From the death of her parents, working as an assassin, every little secret, all that she wrote down in her diaries throughout the years and how close she was to giving up the life she was living for something ordinary, something with him. She wanted to tell him the dreams she was able to recall. But a part of her told her that she couldn't. Her heart on the other hand disagreed and was forcing her to tell him, to let the truth flow out of her like a river from her mouth.

Knock, knock, knock!

Both had jumped at the knocking from the door. O-Ren knew it was one of the Vipers who had come to pick her up. That was more than six hours again. At that point, where she currently was, she unlocked the door to the room she would be in for the night. It actually seemed more like a small apartment, with a kitchen, a dining area and a bedroom that was separated by a wall. She sat her bag on the table, taking a seat on the couch. She didn't know what it was that made a person feel good after sitting down, but it did feel good nonetheless. She needed a little bit of quiet time to herself. Sofie had the room next door.

O-Ren began to wonder about Sofie, something to take her mind off of the call she was going to make and the task she was going to perform the next day. She had wondered why Bill had decided to bring her along, seeing that Sofie wasn't the killer type. She thought about what she knew about Sofie, pulling a very slender volume off the "People I Know" shelf in the library of her mind. Taking a seat at the wooden table, she opened the book up. She began at the first chapter, going over information about Sofie from her own timeline. Sofie had been born in France, in a small village not to far out from there. Her mother had been an artist, her father a teacher. In her teens, she had been trained in ballet and had performed in major productions, including "The Nut Cracker". She had hopes of being both a lawyer and a model. She trained herself at speaking English, Japanese, German, Russian and Spanish fluently before completing her education. When O-Ren had turned 20, Sofie was 23 and had begun a relationship with a man whom Bill called "Pretty Riki". She was familiar with Riki, because he was there the night Matsumoto had her parents killed. She remembered that he was wearing a green jacket and a pair of sunglasses with blue lenses. Though the picture of Riki in the book wasn't as accurate through years of degradation, she did remember him being there. And she also remembered how sad Bill was to hear of Riki's untimely death, which had been two years since she herself started her relationship with Greg. Sofie had been a bit devastated by what had happened, having to been committed to a hospital because of an emotional breakdown. Though she was a lawyer, Bill decided to keep her on his payroll as a secretary, as a means of keeping a promise to Riki and to help her find her footing again in life. It was some time after when Bill revealed a side of Sofie that not many people knew.

Both O-Ren and Bill sat on the hood of his '67 De Tomaso Mangusta, having some drive thru burgers from Big Kahuna Burger while waiting for a client to arrive. They were sitting on a hill that overlooked the city below.

"As you know, for a few months, Sofie has stayed with me since Riki's death," Bill began, "She's stayed in the guest room. And you also know I have a bug placed in the overhead fan. After the first night, I listened to the tape that was made that night. And it pained me hearing it. She cried herself to sleep. It was also after that when I noticed some other small details. Like she would have this small sadness in her eyes, but then a while later, she would be laughing at some sitcom she would be watching on TV."

"Is she crazy or something?" she asked as she took a sip of Sprite from her cup.

"No," Bill replied, "Much worse. She's in a constant state of depression. I can't recall the exact clinical name for it, but I bet my left nut it's because of Riki's death."

"But it's been two years. Why hasn't she gotten over it yet?"

"A crazy little thing, love is. It makes us do things that we ourselves cannot explain. People have fought, killed and died in the name of love. Billy Shakespeare got it down right when it came to some of his popular works. In "Julius Caesar", Brutus, though misinformed, kills Julius out of love for Rome. "Romeo and Juliet", the lovers kill themselves because they couldn't imagine living life without one another. "Hamlet", a son seeking revenge, compelled by the ghost of his father, whom he loved dearly. "Macbeth", a man killing a king so he could become one, following his wife's suggestions. If Shakespeare, a playwright, was able to understand what love can do, you should understand it too, within time."

And she did. She understood why Bill called her first and why they were there. Bill wanted to make sure that Black Mamba knew she broke his heart, right up until she died. But it still didn't answer the question of why Sofie was there, nor did it make her feel any better about what they were going to do the next day. To be honest, nothing probably could make her feel better or at ease. Not all the assuring in the world could. There was a knock at the door that drew her back to the room at the Dew Drop Inn, back to the couch that she rested in.

"Yes?"

The door cracked open, Sofie peeking in. O-Ren noticed the sad look in her eyes, like how Bill told herm some sort of glazed eyes like a wildcat having to be locked up in a zoo.

"Sorry to disturb you," she spoke in Japanese, "Bill asked me to inform everyone that we'll be eating at Jack Rabbit Slim's for the evening."

"Sofie, can I talk with you for a second?"

Sofie was a bit confused, but entered the room without answering. O-Ren moved over a bit, giving some room for Sofie as she sat down. She looked forward, not making eye contact with the Japanese-Chinese-American hybrid.

"What do you want to talk about?" Sofie asked.

"About you," O-Ren spoke in English, "That is if you don't mind."

Sofie settled back, finally appearing to relax a bit. However she still did appear a bit stiff.

"What are you doing here with us, Sofie?"

"I'm here at Bill's request."

"I can understand why I and the others are here. And I understand why Bill is here. But you, you don't have any reason to be here. I mean, Bill doesn't need a secretary right now."

There was a long moment of silence in between them.

"Bill asked me to be here because he needed me, not as his secretary, but as his friend. Everyone here is concerned for him. I am here because we are friends. You're here because he is like a father to you and Vernita. Budd is here out of brotherly love, while Elle is here because she's in love with him. So, you see, me being here isn't out of place after all."

"Are you going to be participating tomorrow?"

"No. I'm not a killer. I'm going to be burning in Hell for being a lawyer. Imagine what Satan would do to me if I were both."

O-Ren found that statement a little bit funny, but ironic as well. It was the fact that all of them were bad people who had plans on doing bad things to not just a bad person like themselves, but innocent bystanders. The truth was there were no angels in the area of life that they lived in, with the exception of Greg. He was a seraph if anyone had to be, because of him being able to save and help lives. And in this analogy, O-Ren knew that the bad people she was hired to kill must have put her name on God's good list, seeing that it was a public service to kill the wicked. And tomorrow's task would undoubtingly remove her name from that list.

"Besides, Bill wanted to keep an eye on me, especially after this morning."

O-Ren was confused slightly by what Sofie meant, but the thought slipped her mind as there was another knock on the door. Both of the women turned to the door as Budd stuck his head in.

"Sorry ladies, for disturbing you in the middle of gossip," he said with a somewhat dry voice, "Time to go get some grub."

No to Jack Rabbit Slim's were alike. Though they all had the 50s/60s themes, each one explored a different aspect of those eras. The on in El Paso had a drive-in movie theater theme, Bill having to place a reservation for one of the private project booth rooms that sat above the ground floor, overseeing the tables that looked like cars. On the massive screen, Alfred Hitchcock's "Vertigo" was being shown. Everyone sat at the table, the back wall of the room being Plexiglas that gave them the view. Bill had the speakers turned down, so that the sound of the movie wouldn't distract them from their meal and their discussions.

"So, we're gonna do this, huh?" Vernita asked Bill, "We're actually going to kill Black Mamba?"

"And finally," Elle muttered to herself.

"Of course, TNT Jackson," Budd responded, "She broke his heart."

"I wasn't asking YOU, Buddy boy. I was asking Bill. So, Bill, are we goin' to do this?"

Bill used his napkin to wipe his thin lips before he replied.

"Vernita, my darlin', we are. But the act isn't killing. This is more of a test, Copperhead, to see if we all have the will to do it. I know we all think we can and without hesitation, but we can never really tell when it comes to moment of truth."

"Bill, I know I can kill her," Elle said, "Even before the moment of truth."

"Of course you can, my girl."

Budd chuckled, almost amused by Elle's comment.

"Both a hateful bitch and a brown noser," Budd commented before turning to Bill, "Brother, both you and I know I can do it without hesitation. Hell, it wouldn't be the first time."

"Of course, my brother. But the two I am mainly concern about are both Vernita and O-Ren, whom both were friends of [BEEP]. Vernita, though this is your last hit, will you be able to go through with it?"

O-Ren took notice in the change of Vernita's tone. O-Ren knew that both Copperhead and Black Mamba were both classmates from high school, but didn't realize they were close friends too. Vernita bit her lower lip for a moment in though before finally answering.

"I hate knowing I have to fuck her over. But knowing the consequences of not following through with this, between having to choose between me and her, I can only hope her death is quick."

O-Ren felt all the eyes in the room on her, the last one to complete the pact. She had wondered if the feeling was what it was like for an ant under a magnifying glass. She couldn't bring herself to make eye contact to any other. Though she hated Black Mamba for the past months, it didn't mean she wanted her dead. If Bill wanted her just dead, he would have gone to El Paso by himself and put a shot right in her ear from behind her. But he didn't. He called all the remaining Vipers to come to do this. As Sofie had put it, it was about love. But it also had been about honor, or at least she hoped it did. If they failed to do this, then they would lose face in front of customers and they would go to competitors. Honor had to be there, seeing that was the first thing Bill taught her. And it was honor she had to ask about.

"Will we at least honor the Viper code?" she asked, "It would seem fair to at least let her know we're here, to give her a chance at an even fight."

Vernita was a bit surprised, probably from not considering asking the question. Elle shook her head in disappointment.

"Stupid Chi-Jap-American bitch," Elle said under her breath.

The moment O-Ren heard that insult, it was out of natural reflex to retaliate. She always felt that by someone insulting her heritage meant that they were insulting her parents. If that insult had just been for her, without any reference to her heritage, she would have just let it slide. But insulting her family bloodline, that was a big mistake anyone could make. And for that, they deserved to be punished. How dare someone insult her family and the honor they had? With almost lightning reflexes, O-Ren snatched up her steak knife and hurled it at Elle's remaining blue eye. But Bill, with his talent for knowing the Vipers, caught the knife in mid air, an inch away from Elle's eye. She reeled back out of shock, not expecting the knife to have been thrown or even caught. If there was one thing that Elle feared, it was losing her remaining eye. Bill knew O-Ren too well, even down to reactions, so he was sympathetic to what she had done.

"Elle," Bill said, placing the knife on his plate, "Apologize to O-Ren."

Elle shot O-Ren a cold glare with her one eye. If O-Ren had a chance, she would have tried for the eye with a spoon. Elle was a bit bitter, but finally gave in to Bill's request.

"I apologize," she spoke, grinding her teeth in the process.

I swear if she ever insults my blood again, not only will I taker her eye, I will hire an ex-con right out of prison to skull fuck her in the empty eye socket, she thought to herself.

O-Ren eased back into the chair, the temporary flare of anger dissipating with each minute.

"To answer your question, Cottonmouth," Bill began as he turned toward her, "No, we will not be honoring the Viper code. Black Mamba ceased being a Viper the moment she ran; therefore she is no longer applicable to our rules. The same thing would go for anyone of you, if you ran. If she had chosen to retire, like Vernita here, then she would. Now I want an answer from you. Will you be there and participate tomorrow?"

O-Ren didn't want to answer, Bill asking her to choose between him and [BEEP], both that she had been loyal to. Choosing between the two was like choosing which arm she wanted to keep while the other was to be cut off. She had the thought of excusing herself from the table, leaving the restaurant and finding a phone in hopes of trying to get in contact with Black Mamba, warning her of Bill and the others. Following that thought would be what she would do after, which would be going back to L.A. on the next possible flight, getting Greg and moving far away from the States, maybe go to one of the small villages on the country side in Japan, somewhere that Bill could never find them. Or maybe moving into the Shaw Brothers Studio, maybe working as a fight choreographer for any of their latest films, where she, Greg and any children they would have, would start over with a clean slate. No assassins, no hit men, no more killing. Oh how tempting the thoughts were.

But then, she looked at the opposite of the fantasy, the truth behind the thoughts. If she ran, and Bill ever found them, they would be as sure as dead. Bill would most likely torture Greg just so that she could hear his screams. Those screams would most likely rip her into shreds. Then he would mostly likely bleed them out for days, a slow death that wouldn't end. Weighing the pros and cons left a heavy burden on her. And she finally made a choice, out of protecting herself and the man she loved. She finally looked at Bill, right in his eyes.

"Anything for you, Bill," she replied.

Their waiter, dressed as Elvis from "Jailhouse Rock", brought the check. Bill paid for the meal in cash, giving him an extra hundred for a tip.

"Ah thank you," the waiter replied, doing his Elvis impersonation, "Thank you very much."

It was around 9 o'clock El Paso time when O-Ren got back to her room. She entered the bedroom portion of the area, lying back on the bed the moment she sat down. Though she knew it was a few hours early in L.A., she picked up the phone and dialed her apartment, entering in the phone card number she had memorized so long ago. She figured she would leave a message on the machine, letting Greg know that she loved him and that they needed to talk. The phone rang twice before she heard it being picked up.

"Lowndes," she heard his voice on the other end.

"Hello, lover," O-Ren spoke in a warm tone, a smile having to have formed on her face, "I thought you'd still be at work."

"It was slow, so they decided to send me home early."

O-Ren could hear the awkwardness in Greg's voice. She knew him well enough to tell when he felt guilty about something. One such time had been the one patient that got to him, the one that he lost. They were in bed one night, talking like they normally did. Though she had first noticed this at the theater, it became clear as he told her.

"It was my second year working at the E.R. There had been a fifteen car pileup on the 405. There were at least seven people listed as critical. One of them, which I was assigned to with a group, was a five year-old girl. She had a punctured lung and a C-7 fracture in her spine. She couldn't feel her legs. We tried to bag her so that her remaining lung could still get air, but she kept biting out fingers when we tried to pry her mouth open. She kept screaming out for her mom, who had died in the wreck. Over and over she screamed, "I'll be a good girl if you'll let me see my mommy!" Since we were unsuccessful at trying to insert the breathing tube, she eventually drown to death on her own blood. I headed to the break room and splashed some water on my face; you know to calm me down. When I got back, the father was there. He was hysterical; pleading for us to help his daughter, though she had long since past and there was nothing we could have done. "Please, doc," he said, "My baby girl's still warm, please doc." Though it's been years, I swear I can still hear them. I'd be either at the hospital, or alone in public or even here with you. It's like they won't go away."

The low tone he had when told her the story was the same as it was on the phone at that moment.

"Greg," O-Ren tried to begin, "I wanted to..."

"Don't, O-Ren. It was my fault. I don't know why I asked you if you were sleeping with Bill. I guess it's because I'm scared of finding out something about you and it being something bad."

"Your suspicions are correct. I've been keeping a lot of things from you. I do want to tell you what they are, but I want to do it in time. But to ease any worries, no, Bill and I haven't been sleeping with each other. Never have and never will. As for the trips, I can't explain to you right now. But you have my word that I will tell you. I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Just not now. I don't think you're ready. Do you mind waiting?"

"No, I don't mind. I'm curious as to what you are holding back. I mean, you can trust me with whatever it is."

"I know, baby," O-Ren replied, "I can only ask for your patience."

"You've got it, O-Ren."

She wished that she was with him right then, the need for feeling his arms around her being rather strong. She couldn't imagine what would happen if she ever lost him, like so many times before. She was his and he was her. And nothing could ever replace that.

"How did things go down there?" Greg asked, "With her parents, I mean."

Again, she had to spout out more lies.

"They took it rather hard."

"Are you okay?"

"I am now that I'm hearing your voice."

"When will you be back?"

"Tomorrow, around noon maybe."

"I'm off tomorrow. I'll be sure to do a little cleaning. When you get back here, I'll be scrubbed and polished."

She chuckled lightly. She enjoyed his dry humor amongst the little things she liked. But then again, when it came to love, it's not always about the big things alone, but the little things.

"I've got to go. I'm about to head off to bed."

"Okay," he replied, "Chinese-American or Japanese, it doesn't matter. I love all of you."

"I love you, too."

"Goodnight, my love."

"Goodnight."

She placed the phone back onto its cradle, feeling a bit better about herself. She wasn't sure if it was how he was or his kind 'I love you' that complemented who she was, but she felt somewhat at ease, though the thought about tomorrow still lingered. She got out of bed, stripping down to her underwear. She picked up her bag, heading to the bathroom and making fists with her toes as she did so. She often did that to relieve tension. She knew that killing Black Mamba was going to be difficult, but she did what any rational being would do: She put the thought on hold.

She flossed her teeth first, and then followed it with brushing and rinsing with mouth wash. The mouthwash left a minty flavor in her mouth as she left the bathroom, her switching off the light as she exited. She climbed into bed, the covers feeling rough against her half naked skin.

As she drifted off into the darkness of sleep, she had a brief phantom pain not only in her stomach, but in her head. It felt as if the top of her scalp had been sliced through by some sharp blade. But it was brief, so she paid it no mind as she finally fell asleep, disappearing into the black of unconsciousness.