A/N: This takes place after Pegasus has shown Giovanni the stock market and has taken him to a few casual places to meet his friends, but no contacts Gio could actually use. And before Giovanni learned how to "ignore" women.

While to those on the outside looking in would think that Giovanni and Pegasus got along or were even friends, their lives were very separate aside from the times they were exchanging skills. They practiced in each other's homes (usually in Pegasus' because it was larger and more private) and did field testing in bars where neither was known (Giovanni picked them, and even then they usually had to settle for ones where he was merely lesser known). But spend enough time around someone else and you get to know their habits and routines. If he came over on Saturday morning, for example, Giovanni knew he could find Pegasus watching kiddie shows, eating a bowl of something probably made of pure sugar and occasionally giggling like more of an idiot than usual. He had only tried to teach Pegasus once on a Saturday. It was enough.

For his part, Pegasus knew that Wednesdays was the day Giovanni used for scouting new locations for his band to perform, and Fridays were both his biggest performance and date nights. Pegasus had never tried to teach Giovanni on either night because Giovanni had made it clear from the start that 1) He was working those times, and unlike some people he needed to work for his food and 2) If Pegasus ever got between him and a woman, Giovanni would have to prove that he wasn't as controlled and stable as he appeared. Pegasus just nodded and smiled quickly and kept his thoughts to himself.

So when one Friday he went in to listen Giovanni play (a privilege he was allowed if he stayed near the back and never talked to Giovanni or any member of the band) and there was an entirely different band on stage, he was completely bewildered. He tried to discreetly gather information from the bartender who was on duty.
Motioning to the stage he said, "Where's the regular band?"
The man shrugged, "We try to mix it up every now and then."
Pegasus thanked him and left, wondering to himself. Giovanni's band was well liked locally and was the most popular act the bar had. Giovanni and the bar owner were also friends; when Pegasus had offered to pay Giovanni's tab after their first meeting, the owner had flat-out refused. Pegasus had only gotten him to agree to let him pay after assuring him that he wasn't out for revenge against Giovanni.
It didn't make sense to suddenly switch them out. He paid his bill and went back to his home, calling Giovanni on the drive back. It just kept ringing. Giovanni didn't have an answering machine and if he had a girl over, he unplugged the thing (another quirk he had learned), so that meant he wasn't picking up. But that didn't seem like the answer, either. Something about the situation bothered Pegasus, though he couldn't put it into words. It was just a gut feeling, and he was usually right about them.

He considered trying to find members of Giovanni's band and asking them for info, but they most likely wouldn't tell him anything. They didn't know he hung around with Giovanni, and he guessed they wouldn't be too friendly to a stranger. He didn't know where they haunted on their down time, anyway. Pegasus decided instead to try to think if Giovanni had mentioned anything about taking a break from playing. That answer came in a flash: No. That was how he met women. He wouldn't quit playing unless something out of the ordinary happened. This only reinforced Pegasus' feeling of unease. He tried to think of another reason. Maybe Giovanni was just having an extremely good time with whoever he had picked up the night before? Another negative. "A bird in hand" was not a piece of advice Giovanni subscribed to. "Two heads are better than one", was more his style.
Pegasus frowned to himself in thought. Had Giovanni said or done anything that would shed light on this puzzle? Pegasus never thought that Giovanni might be avoiding him or have skipped town to do so. Because he knew if Giovanni ever wanted to call it quits before their contract was up, he'd say it straight and, depending on the reasons for the fallout, he'd also have some bruises to remember those words by.
He tried to think about when they had last met, about three weeks ago. Had anything happened?

The night itself had been uneventful. Giovanni had taken him to task for utilizing his capacity to speak in proper grammar and using real words. He was told to find someone who "spoke human" and figure out how to do the same. What it actually meant was Pegasus spent the night playing cards and listening to all the different dialects. Giovanni spent his time drinking and glaring. Pegasus had to give him some amount of credit: Giovanni didn't pick anyone up while the lesson was ongoing. That didn't stop him from flirting from a distance ("I do not flirt," he had spat at him once. "I engage and win." This hadn't explained anything at all to Pegasus, but asking Giovanni to explain further about such matters usually ending up being worse than he imagined). But he never called anyone over until Pegasus had decided that he was done with the lesson for that night.
But that night something strange had happened, he suddenly remembered. He was in the middle of a hand when one of Giovanni's band mates (that he thought might have been the drummer) poked his head into the bar and cried out, "Giovanni!"
They both met each other in the middle of the room, and then went off to the side (farther away into the shadows, and also away from Pegasus. Giovanni always acted like he had the most to lose if word got out they were helping each other). The drummer must have been looking for him, because this was not a usual bar for Giovanni. He could tell that whatever they were talking about annoyed him, because his whole body stiffened. Giovanni nodded curtly to the drummer when he was done and sent him away and went back to the bar, never looking in Pegasus' direction. Pegasus himself decided it was time to stop, so he finished the hand and scooped up his winnings and went over towards Giovanni. When he got near, he could see him staring daggers into the counter and slowly clenching his hands over and over in way that suggested it was a coping technique. It wasn't just his hands, however. Pegasus could see his whole arm tense up and relax in rhythm.
"I think I'll call it quits for the night," Pegasus told him.
Giovanni stopped long enough to make a motion that dismissed Pegasus from his sight. But Pegasus wasn't about to leave after such secrecy-his curiosity always got the better of him. Of course he would help Giovanni if he needed it, but mostly he had to know what could bother Giovanni enough to stop engaging the girl across the bar.
"Something on your mind?" he asked. There was no way to fineness the question. Giovanni would neither appreciate nor understand it.
He could see Giovanni weigh his choices of response, which was better than the flat, "Don't start gettin' buddy-buddy on me" he was expecting. He waited patiently, knowing that anything else would ruin his chances at any information. Giovanni finally sighed, as if acting against his better judgment.
"I don't like people," was the answer he received.
"Gio, tell me something I don't know."
Giovanni looked behind him towards the entrance where Pegasus saw that the drummer was waiting.
"There are two kinds of men: Men who are trouble and men who make trouble, and I have to deal with both."
"Which one am I?"
He stopped his actions and came as close he ever did to smiling-which is to say he condescendingly smirked at Pegasus.
"I said two kinds of men." And he finished his drink and walked out of the bar and started giving orders in earnest to the drummer, though Pegasus couldn't make out what. But he hadn't thought about that scene until now. No contact was normal for them, but not vanishing from the face off the earth.

The next morning, Pegasus was filled with equal amounts curiosity and worry. Not worried over Giovanni per se, but as long as he knew where he was, Pegasus knew Giovanni was (most likely) not committing a felony.
But he had no idea how to start looking for him. Asking for Giovanni by name would reveal that they knew each other, which would end as soon as he found Giovanni again. He didn't understand it, that was just the way he was. So he went to the next best idea, which was to ask around for the band in general. He started with the bar they had regular jobs at, thinking that if they gave an explanation to anyone, it'd have to be someone they had a contract with.
The first place he asked about them, he was told that Giovanni suddenly came down some kind of virus and wasn't going to be able to sing for awhile. As much as this was plausible, Pegasus didn't believe this was the truth. But pressing further might alert the manager if he was in on whatever was going on.
So he left the bar and tried another, only to find that he got the same answer everywhere he went.
He moved on to the one or two places they had performed once or twice at, but they hadn't been told anything. Pegasus went back to his home; annoyed at the consistency of the cover-story and decided some binge eating of ice cream would make him feel better. Yet another thing he was right about.

After gathering his thoughts, he decided to head once again venture back and this time he was going to ask the public their opinion. Surely, there were rumors somewhere? And he acted enough like one of the band's fans that he wouldn't cause suspicion. All his training would finally be put to use.
It was early evening still, so he would have a reasonable chance of finding someone sober enough to answer a question coherently.
He went to place he knew they had played recently, but didn't have a regular gig. He was afraid a manager at a regular spot would recognize the same guy looking for different answers.
What he was looking for was someone who looked like a fan and alone. With couples, the partner of either sex had a chance of having been involved in Giovanni's romantic escapades in one way or the other and either way the men would get angry and cause a scene. He got lucky after about a half-hour of asking.
"Whatdja say they were called again?"
"The Rock-Its."
"Describe them again, it sounds familiar."
"The style leans toward the rock side; there's about eight members total. The lead singer is a guy with extremely long hair."
"Leather jacket, plays guitar as well?"
"Yes!"
"I heard they were playing on the other side of town at O'Leary's."

Pegasus was so excited about this lead that he didn't even think about what was said until he was half-way to the pub. O'Leary's was not the usual venue Giovanni gravitated towards; it was in the middle-class part of town, not where most of his fanbase was from. And it seemed even stranger that he would make up a story just to play there. Still, he could find out everything once he saw him. Well, maybe not everything. But he'd still make him talk. He had not yet even begun to use his powers to annoy.
When he walked into the room, what struck him first was that something in the room was off. It might have been the paint, which was a horrible rotting green color. It might have been the lack of lights and the dark mahogany beams. It might have been the authentic turf fire going in the corner and spewing an acrid scent everywhere. Whatever it was, it interfered with the band's sound on a psychological level. They didn't come off as polished as they usually were. Maybe it was the crowd, who didn't seem inclined to throw themselves into this style of music. The song continued in its off kilter way, and it was in the ending notes that Pegasus realized something was more wrong than he realized. The singing wasn't Giovanni, who sounded confident and slightly arrogant no matter what the song was about.
But this singing wasn't like that at all. It belonged to someone who wasn't assured of his own superiority.
Pegasus took a closer look at the band.
It looked like the Rock-Its. The drummer had the same bandana on his head, the keyboardist the same yellow boots. The lead singer had the same long hair, the same vest and no shirt combo, the same guitar. But it wasn't Giovanni. In fact, no one was from the actual band. Pegasus could do nothing but get the singer's attention and yell, "Buy you a drink?" (for reasons he didn't quite understand) and when the man accepted with a small smile, he knew for sure it wasn't the real deal.

Pegasus had a glass ready for the man by the time he made his way over. They both raised their glasses quietly and drank at first in silence (other signs it wasn't Giovanni: companionable silence; willingness to drink out of a glass; chatting with a man) before introducing each other. Well, the doppelganger introduced himself-as Jeremy. Pegasus used a name he thought off the top of his head. No sense in getting caught up anymore than he had to in…whatever he had stumbled upon. If he didn't know any better, he'd think it was maybe Giovanni's evil twin or younger brother. They really did look alike. But it was just the similarities that certain ethnicities share.
(Though since Giovanni was probably the more evil of the two, he guessed that this man would be the good twin).
"You guys sound good," Pegasus started.
The other man flashed a quick grin, "Thanks. We work hard."
"You remind me of someone, truth be told," he continued.
Jeremy's smile faded, "…The Rock-Its, right?"
""Who? I was thinking of the Apollos," Pegasus was referring to another local band who had hit the big time. They sounded nothing like Jeremy's band or Giovanni's, but he was hoping Jeremy was dumb enough to think he was telling the truth. Luckily, he was.
"Really? That's awesome. If we're sounding like them, we'll cream the Rock-Its and everyone else this weekend."
"What do you mean?"
"You haven't heard, buddy?" (Nicknames. Another thing that made this fake-Giovanni a terror to speak to). "This weekend's the battle of the bands!"
Pegasus responded with the appropriate noises.
Jeremy took another drink and said, "Not that I'm worried. You know those Rock-Its I was talkin' about earlier? They up and disappeared about a week or so ago. We've got 'em running scared."
The bravado and self-importance was similar to Giovanni, but he was too talkative to pull it off. He seemed like a kid with a chip on his shoulder compared to the quiet authority Giovanni held.
"Really?" Pegasus asked with just a hint of incredulity.
"Yeah, man! You know, they've been spreading the rumor that their lead is sick. I don't buy that. My fiancé" (another sign of being a poor facsimile of Giovanni) "says she saw him the other day looking just fine. Acting weird, but healthy."
"Where did she see him?" came the almost disinterested question.
"At her work. Central Hospital."

On a certain level it made sense; he knew the both of them were two of a kind. But he still didn't think that either man would help the other. This whole business was getting stranger by the second and he couldn't tell if he was in for the shock of his life when he found out the truth or the biggest disappointment; but either way he'd get to the bottom of it if he had to buy the entire hospital to do so.
His stride of purpose was broken almost immediately upon entering the hospital, however, when he realized he couldn't wander around the halls looking for Giovanni himself and, on further reflection, he had no idea if Jeremy's fiancé actually saw Giovanni or just someone who looked like him.
I've gone as far as I can alone, he thought to himself. He walked to the front desk.
"I was wondering if Dr. Ueda was in today? There's, ah, a personal matter I must speak to him about."
Despite its name, Central Hospital was a privately owned and run clinic, so with the right inflection on the word "Ah" (which he had learned from a young age), he could insinuate that he was expected and powerful, so you'd better listen to him. It worked like Giovanni's glares or growls in bars; except this was useful amongst sane people.
"Allow me to check, sir. What is your name?"
"Say it's…an old friend."
Even for his sensibilities the line was a bit much, but he wasn't about to have his name blasted over the PA system or walkie-talkies or written down or communicated in any way. She gave him a strange look but proceeded with the inquiry; Pegasus was happy to finally be in a situation where looking like part of the eccentric rich was a point in his favor. The nurse made a phone call.
"Dr. Ueda, there is a man out here who wishes to see you. He said he was a friend."
She paused while listening to his reply, but Pegasus couldn't catch anything that was said.
"Yes, sir," she said and hung up the phone. "He said you can come in, sir. Follow me."

Even though the nurse had just spoken to the doctor not two-minutes ago about Pegasus, he still ended up waiting for Brock to finally show up in the waiting room. He had also successfully stopped the nurse from doing anything to him by informing her, in his best imperial tone, that his case was private and that the details were between him and Dr. Ueda and a select few others.
He was either convincing or she just didn't want to deal with him anymore, but she did leave him alone after that, to wait for Brock, who walked in as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
"I've been waiting for fifteen-minutes!" he complained, as if he had an appointment and Brock should have been ready. Brock shrugged.
"Sorry. It's policy."
"…I'm afraid to ask if it's the clinic's or your own."
"I'll tell you the truth if you ask, but why spoil the surprise?"
Pegasus began having second thoughts coming here. How much could he trust this doctor? Was there a way to get out of this situation without drawing attention to himself? Brock only worried him further when he broke the silence by saying, "Just let me wash up," while walking over towards a sink on the right wall. He turned on the water almost to full blast and then turned around without doing anything. He motioned Pegasus to come closer. He got up and went over to Brock.
"We can talk now," he said. "Can't have this going beyond the room, right?"
Pegasus said, "It depends on what we're discussing."
Brock smiled, "Good. You're not so dumb after all. "
Pegasus said nothing in reply to this. He just looked inquiringly at Brock.
Brock nodded, "Looks like I'll go first. That seems about right. You're here lookin' for Giovanni, right?"
He still didn't answer.
"Listen, eventually it's going to sound more suspicious that this water has been runnin' for so long. Spit it out."
"Yes," came the reply.
"He's at my apartment. But you'll have to wait until I get off duty to see him."
"Why?"
"Well, he's there, but technically he's not. He won't answer the door, get it? You can come over tonight and have a drink."
Still in the dark, Pegasus left the clinic to get some dinner and wait for Brock.

Brock's apartment was just a few blocks from the hospital and he took his time leading Pegasus to it. He ambled up the three flights as if he didn't have a care in the world and motioned Pegasus to follow him like it was routine. As he lazily pulled out his keys he casually remarked, "Y'know, once I unlock it we could have some fun if you burst through the door screaming."
Pegasus gave him a flat look, "He'd kill me."
Brock shrugged, "Nah, I'm here. You wouldn't die. And he needs somethin' to de-stress."
"I think you've been spending too much time around him."
Brock only hummed to himself and pushed open the door.
In style and furnishings the space skirted the line between starving student and wealthy doctor. It had a small kitchen that was modern about three years ago, but leftover takeout littered the countertop and table. It had a large window that let light into the main room and opened onto a small verandah, and a short hallway to the left leading to the bedroom and bath. It was shabbily kept but high tech gadgets were scattered here and there.
Brock walked down the hallway to what seemed to be an extra room and quietly tapped on the door.
"G, I'm here. I brought trouble."
The door opened and Giovanni took in the sight of Pegasus standing behind Brock, looking at once surprised and relieved to see him. Pegasus was afraid that for all of Brock's confidence, he would find nothing behind the door. Giovanni, on the other hand, was less than pleased. He growled even deeper than usual.
"Ueda. Explain."
Brock leaned against the doorjamb, ignoring the glare.
"He traced you to the hospital, G. Once he gets that far, it's not really worth it to keep the secret, is it?"
Giovanni muttered something about "such a simple task" involving doctors, drugs and organ trafficking, but otherwise just pushed out past the two men to draw the curtains in the living room. Giovanni threw himself into a recliner and Pegasus sat on the couch, just off to the side. Brock said he'd get dinner started. Giovanni had about two-minutes of blissful silence, and then Pegasus started with the questions:
"Gio, where have you been? Did something happen? Are you really sick? Where is your band? Why the silence? What's going on?"
Giovanni leaned his back and stared at the ceiling.
"That's on a need to know basis."
"Believe me when I say I need to know, Gio. I've spent the past few days tracking you down and I'm not leaving until I know what this is about."
Still not looking at Pegasus, Giovanni sighed. He knew it was true. The man could be one of the most stubborn, irritating individuals he had ever met if he wished to be. As much as it pained him, it'd be best to tell him sooner rather than later.
"First, I want you to tell me what you know. I don't want to waste my time repeating info you already have."
"I know you're not sick, and that you must have some kind of reason to disappear like this. That's about it."
"And how did you find out where I was?"
"It was a lucky break," Pegasus answered. "A friend of yours named Jeremy, his fiancé saw you hanging around the hospital she worked at. I was the one who introduced you to the good doctor here. It wasn't hard to put two and two together."
Giovanni set his lips in a thin line, "Ah, Jeremy. Ever helpful."
Brock piped up, "Told ya you have to watch out for those nurses, G."
"It was a necessary risk."
Brock came out the kitchen with three hot plates of Chinese food and pizza.
"I'll tell you this next part. This guy just sweet-talks his was into my office about a week ago and tells me I'm letting him crash at my place."
"Gio can sweet-talk?" Pegasus asked in mock-seriousness.
"It was a euphemism," Brock replied in the same tone. Giovanni ignored them both and instead focused on eating in an eerily calm manner the seemed to be masking some other emotion.
"He said he needed a place to think with no distractions from anyone," Brock continued, "And that my place will do in a pinch."
"He sounds oddly grammatical," Pegasus observed.
"That time I was paraphrasing."

Giovanni sat back in the chair again, staring holes into a space of no particular importance.
"Gio…Does this have something to do with that Jeremy fellow?"
This snapped him out of his reverie.
"Do I seem so pathetic that I would worry over Jeremy?"
"Well, there is that battle of the bands coming up…" Pegasus didn't finish the thought. He didn't think it was Jeremy; he knew it wasn't him. But he couldn't think of anyone else. "No, Gio. You don't. Make you feel better?"
"If your opinion was vital to my self esteem, then I really would be pathetic," he replied and lapsed into silence again. Pegasus looked pleadingly at Brock. "Can you talk some sense into him?"
Brock gave a non-committal gesture, "I can try."
He patted the armrest of the chair Giovanni was occupying. "C'mon. Tell him and get rid of him already."
Not the help Pegasus was looking for, and he started to wonder if this was all a long practical joke to teach him some abstract lesson that he couldn't come up with. He had gained nothing from this encounter so far aside from the knowledge that he never wanted to be a private detective.
Giovanni still hadn't said anything. As much as he loathed Pegasus' presence, he also hated speaking about his personal business.
"Alright," Pegasus said in an annoyed tone. "I'll start. If it's not Jeremy, then the story begins, 'There was this woman'."
Giovanni just looked at him.
"Gio, please. It's getting late and I'll have to call home for a few things if I'm going to spend the night, but I'd rather not. There's no use whatsoever in saying there isn't a woman; I wouldn't believe it. Continue."
Giovanni started massaging his shoulders, but if was to relax and talk or to loosen up before strenuous activity (the painful kind) Pegasus wasn't sure.
"Ueda, you have any beer?"
The doctor left for the kitchen and returned with drinks for all three.
"There is a woman," Giovanni admitted after taking a chug. "And also a man."
"I'm presuming her boyfriend?"
"Cute," he snarled. "Shut up. I'm going to sum it up for you so I don't hafta stare at your face any longer: This situation ain't ordinary and it called for extra-ordinary actions."
"He's in hiding," Brock provided.
Giovanni rumbled in response, but didn't deny the statement.
"You're…In hiding?" Pegasus asked in disbelief. He didn't think there was any person or situation that Giovanni would run away from. Giovanni looked like he wanted to punch something (most likely Brock) very badly, but he took another drink instead.
"You know what hides? Predators. They lurk in the shadows until they're ready to pounce and then bam! But they have to wait until just the right moment. I'd be dead by now if I didn't know when to lay low."
Pegasus was actually impressed that Giovanni was capable of analyzing a situation and making a strategic fallback. He clearly hated doing it, but he went through with it. It was yet another side of the man Pegasus hadn't seen, and he thought that it was because Giovanni displayed only his violent, womanizing side to the outside world that this show of good sense was surprising. It set him up to be underestimated. Brock chimed in at this juncture, "He's not kiddin', you know."
"Come again?"
"He really would be dead," Brock explained. "The boyfriend took out a hit on him."

The silence after that, to Pegasus, was one of the longest he had ever experienced. He waited and waited and waited for Brock to smile or laugh at the joke (Giovanni never would even if it was), but neither did. They just looked at him and continued to drink.
"You're serious. You mean an actual 'hit'. He's a marked man."
"That's generally what it means," Giovanni confirmed dryly.
"It's not that someone has been hired to strike you—to hit you. It's that someday, somewhere, you are going to go outside and you'll be dead."
"I'm trying to avoid that outcome," came another even voiced reply, which only furthered Pegasus' growing hysteria.
"Giovanni!" He cried, resorting to his full name in his desperation and standing up out of his chair. "What did you do?!"
"Will you zip it?!" Giovanni barked, also standing. "You tryin' to wake the whole complex? I have enough to deal with-I don't need a screamin' child!"
This did nothing to diffuse the situation.
Brock got between them, "Lucky for you two I play a psychologist on TV. What we need to do is get rid of these negative feelings," his tone was almost flippant. "Which I'll take care of. I'll say what each of you want to say and then you'll sit down and we'll continue."
He turned to Giovanni, "You're an idiot."
He then turned to Pegasus, "Screw you."
Even though neither one had participated in the "conversation", they both felt better and calmer after it was over. Giovanni actually thought that his feelings were better demonstrated through a blunt object, but he was willing to accept these particular words in this instance. They were all able to sit down once again and resume the conversation.
"Gio," Pegasus tried again, keeping his tone even. "Enlighten me."
"How much do you need to know?" The voice was strained, but cool.
"Who is this boyfriend?"
"Tony the Hammer."
"You stole a Mafioso's girlfriend?!"
"I can't help it. He always has excellent taste in women."
This implied he'd done it before, and Pegasus gave him a dumbfounded look of disgust.
"You know I'll never understand you," he said.
"That's my line!" screamed Pegasus.
Giovanni would have grinned at pushing Pegasus' buttons so well, even in the situation he was in, but smiling was for idiots who made themselves feel fuzzy inside so they wouldn't notice the emptiness in their heads. Pegasus didn't notice his amusement.
"Gio, I'm very worried about you," he said. "Are you planning on living here with Brock for the rest of your life?"
Brock and Giovanni both answered at the same time, "No. He cramps my style."
"Besides," Giovanni added. "If you were able to find me on nothing more than chance and the musings of a clown, then I don't think this shadow is doin' that great a job at hiding me."
"You know that Jeremy is a clown who dresses exactly like you?"
"The difference is that I pull it off," Giovanni stated.
The ensuing silence was almost as tense as when the hit was first mentioned.
He looked at them both, "Luckily for you two, I don't care what either of you think."
It'd be a lie coming from anyone else, but it was a hard truth for Giovanni, so the moment passed.
Pegasus addressed Brock, "Is there anything you can do for him? Know any housing complexes for residents that are empty? Could you smuggle back some bandages and he could dress as the invisible man?" The last suggestion was only half-joking.
Brock made a non-committal shrug, "I don't think women are even worth what's he's goin' through. He shoulda chucked her at the first sign of trouble. He can stay as long as likes, even so."
"…I guess you are letting him stay," Pegasus conceded. "You are doing something."
"Only because it beats television in the evenings."
Another quick turn back to Giovanni, "Please tell me you've called the police."
"I will, just because you said 'please'."
"Gio! Why wouldn't you do that?"
He only received a stare in return.
"…Live free, die free?"
Giovanni nodded and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He lit one up and took a long drag, and then tossed the pack onto the coffee table in lieu of formally offering one to the other two. Pegasus took one to sooth his nerves, but Brock had one of those vapor kinds.
"Patients get upset when I smell like smoke," he explained when Pegasus asked. "Because if their doctor isn't taking care of his health, how can he take care of theirs? I wouldn't have to deal with this junk if I was a vet."
"What have you come up with so far, Gio?"
As far as Pegasus had it figured, Giovanni had been in hiding for a little over a week. The trouble must have started way back when the drummer came in on that night, but it didn't reach a head until later. With as calm as Giovanni was, he was sure Giovanni had some kind of angle he was playing.
"I think," he said slowly, blowing smoke rings. "That I'll be back later, and I might tell you in a few days. It's too freaking noisy here to think."
He stood up and nodded to Brock, who asked, "'Til later?"
Giovanni nodded and walked out the door.
"Where…? Is he leaving?"
"Nothin' gets past you , buddy."
"He's a wanted man!"
Brock just settled in the chair more comfortably. "I told you he was an idiot. It's not worth it. He tells me that if he's wanted anyway, he might as well deserve it. He's going out to meet the girl."
Pegasus opened his mouth, but nothing would come out.
"He has my number on speed dial, not that it'll do much good if he's unable to talk or gets taken out in one shot," he took another pull on his device. "But it's not worth worryin' about. Just hope he dies with a bang."
"That's what I'm afraid of."

He didn't come home that night.

Pegasus wanted to spend his free time (he only dressed the part of the idle rich) at Brock's apartment, waiting for Giovanni to come back, but Brock said Pegasus worried too much and to leave.
"Too much! There's a price on his head!"
"And I hope it's a good one, or he'll be ticked. Get out. This is not a hotel."
"Isn't he your friend?"
Brock sighed, "He wanted to use my place to lay low and I agreed. He didn't ask for a babysitter and I'm not cut out to be one."
"We could still call the police."
"Yeah, we could. But this whole thing is stupid and it's a hassle. Goodbye, Peg."
Unsure if the last remark was an insult or friendly nickname, Pegasus left to wander around the town in the hopes of seeing Giovanni doing something idiotic—mainly, being alive outside.
It wasn't that he was worried, exactly. He couldn't imagine Giovanni actually dying. On the other hand, Giovanni, tough as he was, didn't strike him as someone who could take down a trained killer.
In Pegasus' mind, there was already an assassin of legendary caliber who had been studying Giovanni's profile ever since the hit went out: learning his every thought pattern, memorizing his friends and his movements. And he was going to strike when they least expected it, in the most lethal fashion possible.
All for Giovanni: Guitarist, small time con-man and mistress seducer.
Pegasus had a very active imagination and a taste for drama.

He was sitting at a bar he enjoyed, trying to get a hold of himself and regain the ability to think rationally (a place most conducive to this goal), when his thoughts were interrupted by the familiar sounds of the Rock-Its warming up. He looked to the stage, and there they were. Even Giovanni. Just standing there, like nothing abnormal was going on. Pegasus made his way over to the front of the crowd, but was shoved aside from behind at the last second.
"Yo! Giovanni! I see you came back!"
It was Jeremy, still dressed in Giovanni's same style. Pegasus was starting to wonder how deep this rivalry went. Giovanni ignored the other man.
"Hey! I'm talkin' to you! Too scared to look at me, Giovanni?"
Giovanni finished adjusting the strap on his guitar and was doing some fine tuning before he started the set. Without looking up from his task, he walked over to the edge of the stage and said, "Jeremy. I'm afraid I'm booked this evening, but I'll take you out to dinner some other time." He finished tuning and looked at him, "Maybe you could wear something more suited to yourself, but I'm not sure that girl of yours will lend you her dress."
Jeremy flipped him off, "You talk big, but I'm not the one who disappeared for a week. You'll regret ever comin' back, Giovanni. I'll see you at the Battle of the Bands!"
Jeremy stalked out of the room, attempting and failing at a swagger.
Pegasus came up to the stage and Giovanni growled.
"Save it. I'm here to relax."
Pegasus said nothing but continued to look at him.
Giovanni jumped off the stage, grabbed a handful of his shirt and dragged him outside.
"You have one question, and then if you follow me back in I'll make it so you won't walk again."
"What's your plan?"
"You'll find out," and Giovanni started to leave.
"Gio! That's not an answer!"
"Battle of the Bands. It'll be interestin'." Was the only reply he got before he disappeared back inside.
Pegasus knew that he wouldn't see him again that night, and so he went back home to wait until the concert the next afternoon.

The crowd for the Battle of the Bands was bigger than Pegasus thought it was going to be; he thought no one actually cared about such events outside of high school movies. The rented warehouse was tightly packed; the radio station who was sponsoring it seemed to be in bed with the vendors selling drinks (of the soft and hard variety): there was no room to breathe and Pegasus felt too hot almost immediately. Also claustrophobic, but that could be alleviated by staying on the outskirts instead of trying to get front row with the rest of the mob. Pegasus also felt he had good view of the entire room when on the outside, and spent much of the pre-show inspecting the perimeters looking for hiding spaces and stashes of weapons. That he found none was no surprise, except to the romantic inside him.

Once the bands started playing, however, it got too wild to even move along the edge. He eventually had to get out of the crowd all together and sat down at a few tables that had been set up in a corner. He was the only single man there; everyone else at the tables were engaging in activities that Giovanni specialized in. He averted his eyes and scanned the masses of people in an effort to distract himself.
Then he saw Brock, just a few rows from the back.
"Hey!" he shouted. "Brock!"
The doctor didn't notice and made his way further in.
So, he is here for Giovanni, Pegasus thought to himself. He's only half a jerk.
According to the program, he still had about an hour or so before Giovanni and the Rock-Its had their turn. He thought about drinking so that the fateful moment would register as a blur when recalled later, but he also knew if he drank that much he'd just end up being sick later in corner. His tolerance was such that he felt fine until he hit the edge and then he just crashed. Instead, he contented himself by selecting what outfit he would wear to the funeral and then what he would wear at the inevitable trial until it was time for the Rock-Its. They were scheduled to go on after Jeremy, and Pegasus didn't know whether or not that put them at a disadvantage. Everyone would be tired by the end, but they'd also be the last thing on everyone's mind. They were excellent closers. When Giovanni was in the zone (and Pegasus assumed that he'd do nothing but give it his all), he possessed a magnetic charisma that was very dangerous in a man like Giovanni. Because he knew he had it, and he was good even without it.

Everyone but Jeremy helped set up. Pegasus figured that he was going to appear last—a tactic Giovanni occasionally used, but Giovanni could grab attention without having to make a scene. Jeremy made his way onto the stage with his hands pumping in the air, getting the crowd revved up.
"Yeeeeah!" he screamed, trying maybe a little too hard. "I'm Jeremy," he pulled a girl from the keyboard to him, "This is the love of my life and we're—"
"YOU SLUT!" a shriek suddenly pierced through the entire room. There was a huge commotion up front and a woman with striking red hair climbed on stage. "He's mine!" and she grabbed Jeremy's girl and threw her into the drum set. She turned to Jeremy.
"Wait—I—"
Unable to even form words, she just shrieked once again at him and kneed him in the stomach and the groin. Then she shoved him off the stage.
Several things happened at once after that:
Pegasus saw Brock jump onstage and start tending to the girl in the drum set; he saw the red-haired woman stalk off; he saw men in black come over to Jeremy, and Pegasus realized that they were not security. They were Tony's men. And then he noticed that all the Rocket-Its were watching the scene unfold while Jeremy was being dragged away—except Giovanni.
And Brock was also gone.
Pegasus ran outside, but he found nothing. But, he had an idea where he could find some information.

It was just a feeling, but it was the same kind of feeling he had when Giovanni had disappeared. He was sure he could trust it. He knew he would find something at the clinic, and he hoped whatever it was would end the situation and let him go home. He didn't even get to the front doors before hands grabbed him from behind and forced him between two cars.
"Brock!"
"The answers you seek are not there," he said cryptically, enjoying Pegasus' confusion. He let him go. "C'mon, otherwise you won't leave me alone."
They went around and to the side of the building before going down some steps to enter underneath the clinic. The door had an electronic lock that Brock's ID took care of. The doors opened with a slight "whoosh", as if the room was sealed. Brock motioned him inside. He stepped in and shivered.
"Somehow, I knew I wouldn't be able to avoid you," Giovanni said. "No plan is perfect."
"Is this what I think it is?" Pegasus asked, putting his jacket on and buttoning it.
"It's a morgue."
"And you're here because…?"
"I thought I might as well get used to it, in case anything went wrong."
"Gio…"
"You broke my last HQ, I needed a new one. This place don't get many visitors," he looked around the room. "But it's over now."
"Please tell me what went on in that warehouse."
Giovanni made a motion behind him into a room slightly to the side and hidden from Pegasus.
"This should clear things up," he said. The red-haired women walked out behind Giovanni and put her arms around his chest and rested her head against his shoulders.
"You don't mean—"
Giovanni nodded.
"Gio! That was a perfectly innocent man you used!"
Giovanni sneered. "If he wants to dress the part of a big man, then he'd better be ready to accept the consequences."
Pegasus couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"Is she—Tony's-?"
"In name only," she said seductively to Pegasus in Giovanni's ear. "Let's get out of here."
"In a minute. Light me."
She fished inside his vest, still clinging to him, and brought out his pack, lit a cigarette and drew on it before passing it to him.
"Gio, you just sent a good man—"
"I don't need a sermon, St. Lucre. He's arrogant, irritating , and incredibly stupid. Besides," he paused, enjoying his cigarette. "He'll just get a beating."
"You seem to forget you have a hit on you."
"That thing? Nah," he shrugged. "Not when you send Tony a case of the very finest whiskey in town, along with a nice apology letter."
"And you got the money from-?"
"Jeremy himself paid for the entire package. He insisted. Gave me his wallet."
Pegasus sighed. He was tired and relieved.
"Anything else?" Pegasus asked.
"Just the happy ending," was the answer.
Before Pegasus could think of what that might mean, there was a beep and the door to the room opened and a nurse walked in. It was Jeremy's fiancé, who still walked with a slight limp from her drum set incident. She saw Giovanni standing in the middle of the room, with the red-head wrapped around him and strode over. Pegasus inched his way towards the exit; the last thing he wanted was to be in the middle of a cat-fight. Brock made no move to do anything helpful.
"You!" the nurse screamed. She ran towards Giovanni. Pegasus couldn't avert his eyes from the coming storm.
"You know how long I've been waiting for you?!" she said. Giovanni put his arm around her waist.
"Sorry, loose ends. We can go now."
Brock made a disgusted sound and left. Not that he disapproved, but both women had shot him down earlier, even knowing that Giovanni was planning on claiming them both as his prize.
Giovanni walked past Pegasus without even looking at him and would have gone out if he hadn't been stopped.
"Gio, tell me something to justify this week to myself. Or I'm going to kill you."
Giovanni paused and thought.
"If you play a game, be the best, and I'm even better than I look."

Death was too good for him.