In Shadow - Ch 8 - Old Salt House

"So, were you able to help her?" Jenny asked.

She'd been happy when Orange had called her and asked to meet her for a drink at the Old Salt House, a popular club on the edge of the City's somewhat shady Spice District. Of course, the evening wasn't exactly starting out the way she'd expected.

"I honestly don't know," Orange sighed. "I mean, it's obvious she's in a bad... probably abusive... relationship. I gave her the number for a women's shelter I help out at, and the name of the counselor there. I hope she calls them..."

"... but you can't make someone get help," Jenny said, understanding. "At least you tried."

"Yeah, I guess," Orange sighed again. "Anyway, I'm sorry. I asked you to meet me and I've done nothing but talk about another woman."

"It's fine," Jenny said, honestly surprised that it actually was fine. "Usually sharing bad days is more a fourth date thing, for me... but I don't mind. Say, you said this Corrie wanted to be an actress..."

"Yeah, she kept saying how this guy she was with promised to make her a star," Orange scoffed.

"Well, if you run into her again, go ahead and give her my number," Jenny said. "I can introduce her to some people who won't take advantage of her."

"You'd do that?" Orange asked, obviously pleased and surprised.

"Absolutely," Jenny smiled. "When I was starting out, Cassie Goth did the same thing for me. Got me out of a bad situation. Maybe I can do it for this Corrie."

"Wow. Alright. Thanks," Orange smiled. 

To her shock, Jenny felt something flutter inside her heart. She liked his smile, she realized.

"So, is this a thing with you?" Jenny asked.

"What do mean?" Orange said, puzzled.

"This whole White Knight riding to the rescue thing," Jenny said. "I'm going to have to contend with a lot of damsels-in-distress, if we start dating?"

"Well, I mean... wait, did you say dating?" Orange blinked, then smiled again. 

Damn, she really liked his smile.

"Oh, you caught that," Jenny smiled back.

--------

Well, this is a surprise, Genie thought.

Jenny had called her that afternoon and asked her to come by the Old Salt that evening. She knew Jenny had a maybe-date with a new guy and was looking for support and a possible graceful way out. Jenny hadn't mentioned her maybe-date was with Orange Bailey-Moon. 

"Hey Jenny," Genie called over the club's music. "Hi, Orange."

"Genie!" Orange smiled, leaping up to greet her. "I heard you were in the City. How are you?"

"I'm good," Genie said, accepting the big guy's friendly hug. "It's good to see you."

"So, I guess you guys know each other," Jenny said. 

"Yeah," Orange laughed. "It's a small world."

"Well, join us," Jenny said, giving Genie a quick look that said she wasn't looking for a rescue, but still wanted the support.

"So, how did you guys meet?" Jenny asked, clearly curious.

"College," Genie replied, taking the seat Orange offered her. "We were dorm mates, and I was friends with Miranda..."

"Who I knew through the whole 'kids of famous parents' thing," Orange said, claiming a spot on the nearby couch. "And my mom and dad knew Miranda's mom, Cassie..."

"... and my mom and dad knew both of Miranda's moms from back when they were all in college," Genie said. "God, it really is a small world."

"I guess the real question is why didn't you two meet sooner?" Genie laughed.

"I don't know," Orange mused, "but I'm glad we did now."

"Yeah," Jenny said with a little smile. 

Genie could practically see the actress's heart flutter at Orange's smile. Oh boy, Genie chuckled to herself, she's hooked.

"Hey, why don't I grab us some drinks?" Orange said, standing. "What can I get you ladies?"

Genie had the distinct sense that he knew they wanted to talk without him and was gracefully giving them the chance to. She was impressed by how much he'd matured since they first met in college.

"Cherry cola, please," Jenny said.

"Pint of the House Stout, if you're offering," Genie added. "Thanks, O."

"No problem, cherry cola and a House Stout, coming up" Orange said. 

"OK, tell me everything you know about him," Jenny said as soon as he was out of earshot.

"Oh boy," Genie sighed.

"Wait, did you two...?" Jenny smiled. 

"We hooked up once, first year," Genie admitted. "It was... well... it really didn't go well."

"Oh," Jenny looked disappointed.

"But that was before the whole 'yes means yes' thing," Genie said quickly. "Kinda right before..."

"Wait a minute," Jenny said, eyes wide. "Are you... Her? You are! The one where he thought everything was going well, but you didn't..."

"Yes. OK," Genie groaned. "Our one and only hook-up went so badly he literally wrote a best-selling book about how to not have dates go that badly."

"Wow," Jenny breathed. "I don't know if I'm impressed or what..." 

"We had a bad hook-up. I freaked out. Mariah threatened to kick his ass and Miranda talked me through things," Genie explained. "We confronted Orange, and he was horrified when he found out how I felt. He's really a good guy, Jenny. We're good, Orange and me. We reconnected in our third year and we're friends now. He's sincerely a good guy."

"Wow, OK... thanks," Jenny sighed. "I'm glad because... I really like him."

"I can tell," Genie said.

"So... what's he like, you know..." Jenny said.

"Jenny, he wrote a best seller about how bad our hook-up went," Genie said. "I'm not in a good place to judge."

"Oh right," Jenny said.

In Shadow - Ch 7 - Life in the Fast Lane

"Good evening, folks, and welcome back to Life in the Fast Lane," the host, Nadine Lane, announced. "Our next guest is no stranger to the Fast Lane. He's been a child celebrity, an all-star college athlete, an influencer and now author of the bestselling book Yes Means Yes, a Dude's Guide to Consent. Welcome back to the show, Orange Bailey-Moon!"

"Thanks, Nadine," Orange said in his deep, melodic voice. "It's great to be back."

"Have you met Jenny Poole before?" Nadine asked, nodding at her other guest.

"No," Orange admitted turning to smile at the actress. "Somehow, we haven't crossed paths before. I loved you in Curse of the Pirate Queen."

"Why, thank you, Orange," Jenny said with a sultry look. "I loved watching you on the soccer pitch... in those very tight pants."

"Uh... thanks," Orange chuckled.

"So, Orange, I know you've been out talking about your new book... and didn't come to me first, you naughty boy," Nadine teased.

"Well, you were all booked up," Orange smiled. "But yeah, I've been out doing a lot of promoting. I feel very strongly about the subject of consent, and I want to get message out."

"So, let's talk about that message," Nadine said. "Why 'Yes means Yes'?"

"It's about looking for active consent," Orange said. "We all know 'No means No.' When I was a young man, my dad took me aside and really taught me that. We all know that Thorne, you know my dad, has a bit of a reputation... but he was really clear to me that when a woman says no, that means no. Not maybe, not convince me. Just plain no.

"I thought that was it, and by understanding that I could be a good guy, respectful of women," Orange went on. "Then, in college, some great ladies taught me a really important thing... that sometimes a woman just doesn't feel that she can say no, even when she wants to."

"It's true," Jenny nodded.

"So, as I guy, I could think that everything was going great, that we're both having a good time... because she isn't saying no," Orange said seriously. "When in reality, she isn't OK with things but doesn't feel comfortable saying so. I'm thinking everything is fine, but it's really very much not. No means No just isn't enough, guys. You gotta get to Yes."

"Now, some people would say that can ruin the moment," Nadine suggested. "Can I kiss you? Can I put my hand there? Can I touch you here now? Doesn't that take the passion out things."

"Maybe, but if it does, don't do it that way," Orange chuckled. "The key to consent is good communication. Try talking about things ahead of time. What are you like? What do you really enjoy? What would you be OK with, even if it's not something you're usually into or maybe haven't tried? What are your... some people call them Hard Limits. Something you absolutely are not into. Have that conversation with your partner, with your date, with a casual hook-up. Then you can get to Yes."

"That could be a little awkward, couldn't it," Nadine said. "I don't know that I'd be that comfortable talking about what I like in bed with a date."

"Which is fine if you don't want to go to bed with them... or do other things that should require consent," Orange said cheerfully. "And that's also a conversation you should have... what are the limits of this date, of this encounter. But if you are thinking of taking things to that next level, I think you absolutely should talk about these things. If you're not comfortable talking about it with someone, it seems to me you're not comfortable enough to be doing it.

"Not only is all this a key to consent, it also makes things better... more fun, if you know what your partner enjoys," Orange added.

"Well, I think that sounds like a great idea," Jenny Poole said. "It certainly would have helped rescue some rotten dates I've been on."

"Exactly," Orange smiled.

"You know Orange, maybe you and I should talk more after this," Jenny added, with a flirty look. 

"Well, I think we'll let those two talk," Nadine chuckled. "The Orange's new book, Yes Means Yes, a Dude's Guide to Consent is available at Fields and Gentry's website and their brick-and-mortars everywhere."

----------------------

"Caught you on Fast Lane last night," Anthony called as Orange came into the living room.

The two guys, former college dorm mates, had made the easy transition to roommates in the City after graduation. Orange didn't really need someone helping with rent. Between his dad, the famous singer Thorne Bailey, and his mom, an equally famous songwriter Octavia Moon, Orange had a pretty substantial trust fund to support himself. Really, he just liked the company.

"What did you think?" he asked.

"If I'm being honest dude, you got kinda preachy," Anthony said as Orange sat down next to him.

"Says the politician," Orange grinned. "But yeah, I hear you. I guess I am preaching... trying to get a message out, get people to think about relationships in a different way."

"You're a rare man, Juice," Anthony grinned, using Orange's old soccer team nickname. "Hey, I gotta ask... Jenny Poole. Did you guys really talk after?"

"Yeah, we did," Orange said. "We might grab drinks sometime. She's nice."

"Nice? Nice?!" Anthony said, staggered. "Dude, she is Jenny freakin' Poole. She is hot. Like girls-gone-wild, burning down the house, brutally hot. You know she's on my Freebie Five, right?"

"What?" Orange chuckled. 

"The five celebrities I could hook-up with, guilt free," Anthony said. "Dude, you have got to get a girlfriend. Gabbie and I totally have our Freebie Fives."

"Really. Who's on hers?" Orange asked. "Maybe I could introduce her to some of them." 

"Dude! Not cool!" Anthony said coldly.

----------------------

Jogging always helped Orange think. The simple physical activity of it cleared the cobwebs from his head and focused him. 

Anthony had, accidentally, kind of hit a nerve. He didn't need a girlfriend... not need... but Orange did think he would like one. Here he was, after all, the media-appointed champion of consent culture and positive relationships and he wasn't actually in a relationship. Yeah, he dated, but nothing really long term. It wasn't something that could be forced, he decided. When it was right, it would be right. 

Jenny was nice, he thought. Anthony was right, she was hot, had a reputation for being wild, and she'd been really flirty last night after the show. Still, Orange had the feeling there was a lot more to her than just the hot actress with a spicy rep and some naked pictures of her on the internet. (He didn't hold that against her. There were at least a couple pictures of his naked butt online somewhere, after all.) He should definitely call her, see about getting that drink and maybe... 

... wait. What's going on here?

"Miss, are you OK," Orange asked the young woman. "Do you need help?"

Tears slid down Corrie's face, streaking her makeup, as she looked a little fearfully at him.

In Shadow - Ch 6 - Very Bad Men

 Content Warning: Domestic Abuse, Misogyny, Drug References, Adult Content, Pervasive Language

--------------------

"Corrie, get the fucking door," George T barked from the sumptuous couch.

"OK, George," she answered sweetly.

Hastening across the luxurious apartment, she silently kicked herself for not moving fast enough. Though, the doorbell had only just rung, and the couch was closer than the kitchen where she'd been unloading the dishwasher. Of course, George and Damian were watching their show, so they couldn't be expected to answer the door. 

Really, Corrie thought, she was happy to do whatever George needed. After all, he was going to help her become a real actress (not like... before). George was an important man, with all kinds of connections. He even knew Cassie Goth. He'd gone to school with her.

"Hello. Can I help you?" Corrie asked, opening the door.

"Damn girl, I bet you could," the bald man said, look her over. Raising his voice, he added, "Right now, though, you can tell that lowlife street pusher, George T, that he's got company."

"'Lowlife street pusher?' There's only one man left who's stupid enough to call me that in my own home," George called.

Leaping up, George crossed the room to grasp the bald man's hand. 

Behind him, Damian stood and exchanged menacing looks with the big, blonde man who followed the bald man inside.

"Max fucking V," George said to the bald man. "How the fuck did you get into the country?" 

"I can smuggle enough coke to keep you in business," Max V replied. "It ain't too hard to get a couple of people in."

"What's with the new muscle?" George asked, nodding at the blonde man. "Where's Wolfgang?"

"He's working," Max V said simply. "This is Crowe."

"Come on in," George said. "Sit. Corrie, move your dumb ass and get us some beers."

"Sure thing, George," Corrie said quickly, rushing to the fridge.

"I'm good, thanks," Max replied.

"I don't drink... beer," Crowe said with a small grin.

"Every damn time," Max traded a grin with his muscle. Corrie spotted the private joke between the two men, even if she didn't understand it.

"Well, I want a fucking beer," George said, taking a seat at the table.

"So, Wolfgang's 'working' and you're at my door," George said once he had his beer. "I think can safely fucking say you're not here because you got sick of tequila and señoritas. So, to what to I owe the fucking pleasure?"

Quietly, Corrie settled herself on one of the kitchen stools. Better to stay close, she thought, in case George needed anything else.

"Marco called me," Max replied. "He wants me to do some rat catching." 

"No shit, the Mariah B thing?" George chuckled. "Yeah... not only did Carla G fuck that up, she fucked up so bad it hit the news. What do I always tell you, Damian? Never send a whore to do a man's job."

"Carla was careless," Max said levelly. "She underestimated what she was up against."

"What? 'Riah B's just another one of Marco's dumb whores," George scoffed. "The man ought do a better job of keeping his bitches under control."

"I'll tell him you said that," Max grinned coldly.

"Tell him," George snarled. "The fuck I care. He's only boss of the Family because the cold bastard, Grey, made it happen. We'll see how long he holds onto it when word gets out that one of his bitches sent ol'Nick away."

"And if Marco falls, you'll be there to take his place, won't you?" Max said softly.

"You said it, not me," George smiled back at him.

"Won't that be an interesting day," Max replied. 

"Until then, I've got a job to do," Max continued. "'Riah B... and her girl, Miranda Goth."

"Miranda Goth?" Corrie said excitedly. "Cassie's daughter? I heard that her father was a... well, that he worked for the Landgraabs... but that Miranda, and Cassie and Gwen, Miranda's other mom, all secretly work for the Agency... like her grandma, Bela... and that they all took down the Landgraabs together and..."

"Corrie!" George barked. "Shut the fuck up!" 

"So, Cassie's brat," George growled, turning back to Max. "Figure's she'd turn out to be a dyke like her mom pretends to be. You got a history there. You grabbed the brat once... and lost her."

"I trusted the wrong person with a job," Max said. "I don't plan to make that mistake again... or to underestimate Miranda."

"What can that little dyke do?" George sneered.

"You know better," Max said significantly, his eyes dropping to the burn scars peeking out from George's shirt sleeve. 

Corrie knew those scars covered his arm, and much of his body. She'd asked George once how he'd gotten them. He'd gotten really angry and hit her some. She'd never asked again.

"What do you need?" George asked after a long silence.

"Eyes," Max said simply. "I know the two of them slipped out of Tartosa. My gut says they came back into the country. I've got a few places to look, but they're going to hide deep. You've got people. You owe me a favor or two from back in the day... and you've got your own history with the Goth family." His eyes settled on the scars again. "Have your people keep their eyes open. Let me know if they see anything useful."

"And then?" George asked.

"Well, like I said, that will be an interesting day," Max said with his cold smile.

"Alright Max," George said, rising. "I'll put the word out."

"Thought you'd see it my way," Max replied, taking his hand.

"Damian will show you out," George said. "I'll be in touch."

----------------

"I don't trust him," Crowe rumbled once they reached the street.

"That's 'cause you're not an idiot." Max smiled. "Old Georgie's a lying treacherous son of bitch... but then, he is a criminal."

"There used to be a code," Crowe said sternly. "It set the Families apart from common ruffians."

"Anyone ever tell you you're old fashioned?" Max grinned. "George has the connections we need... and he's invested. He's got a grudge against the Goth ladies. It'll motivate him. Besides, if anything goes wrong, he can take the fall... and I won't feel the least little bit bad about it, code or no code."

----------------

"Who the fuck told you to talk!" George shouted.

"I'm sorry, babe," Corrie said. "I... I got excited. You know I'm a big Cassie fan."

"Fucking bitch," George snarled. "I don't want to hear it!"

"I'm sorry," Corrie whimpered.

"You don't repeat a word of what you just heard," George snapped.

"No George, of course not," Corrie said desperately. "I won't say anything."

"You're damn right you won't say anything," George said. "And you won't say a damn thing when I have a meeting. Never again. Your whore mouth is only good for one thing. Remember that!" 

"Yes, George," Corrie said shakily. "Yes, I know that."

It's my fault, Corrie thought. I shouldn't have said anything. I should have kept my mouth shut. I should have known better.

He's going to make me a real actress, she reminded herself. I'm going to be a real actress. 

I won't have to do this forever. 

In Shadow - Ch 5 - Olde Mill Lane

The farmhouse had stood on Olde Mill Lane, in one form or another, for time out of mind.

Like most of Old New Henford, the farmhouse had been held by a branch of the Watson family. as tenants of the Crown, until Walter Watson, last of the Olde Mill Lane Watsons, failed to return from the Great War. Through the latter half of the 20th century, it had passed from tenant to tenant, none of whom held onto it for long. 

Finally, at start of the 21st century, the late Queen, in one of her eccentric fits, declared the farmhouse and its lands the rightful inheritance of 'my noble cousin, Gwenivar Silveroak, Guardian of the Western Gate.' What precisely the Western Gate was, and whom it should be guarded against, was unclear. So was the exact nature of Gwen Silveroak's supposed kinship to the Royal family. The whole matter caused a brief stir, until the increasingly eccentric Queen announced that she was appointing her cat, Mr. Mittens, as Bishop of Brindleton, and the news cycle moved on.

Ms. Silveroak, a painter of minor celebrity, had quietly moved into the farmhouse and the folk of Old New Henford had found her to be polite, helpful, eccentric and a very good gardener. However, she continued to cause a stir, firstly by marrying another woman - and no less a woman than the famous musician Cassandra Goth - and secondly, some years later, by disappearing along with her wife and their daughter, Miranda, in a night of mysterious violence that the media would come to call The Mill Lane Incident. 

Folks were almost relieved when, after Gwen reappeared, she moved to Glimmerbrook and gifted the farmhouse to a nice young couple, Jake and Beth Volkov. They, however, only lived there a few years before returning to Moonwood Mill and renting the farmhouse out to, of all things, a community of local artists.

It was, Aadi felt, rather a lot of history for one house. 

--------------------

"I can smell the smoke coming from your ears," Jake Volkov, elbow deep in fixing the broken 'fridge, said.

"What?" Aadi blinked.

"Something my dad used to say," Jake said. "'You're thinking so hard I can smell the smoke coming from your ears. What's up?"

"It's a lot of history for one house," Aadi mused out loud. They were pretty sure Jake couldn't read their mind, but you never knew.

"It's an old house," Jake shrugged.

"That should do it," he added, closing the 'fridge. "Let me know if it gives you any more trouble. Anyway, yeah, it's an old house. I guess apartments in San My don't have history."

"Oh, I don't know," Aadi said with forced cheer. "My parents' apartment has some History. Word on the street is the last tenant got killed in a mob hit. So, actually kinda similar History."

"Except Cassie and Gwen weren't killed, on account of them being alive and all," Jake pointed out. "Also, the Mill Lane thing... wasn't really a mob hit."

"That's how you met Miranda, right?" Aadi said.

"Yeah, right after," Jake said. "She hid out with us."

"You know, something else I've been Thinking About," Aadi said. "The whole Mill Lane Incident has been all over the news again since... Anyway, I'm surprised we haven't had any lookie-loos coming to see the Scene of the Crime. For that matter, this is like Cassie's House. Big, bright Star like her, I'm surprised we don't get a regular parade of fans."

Jake chuckled, "You know, I asked Cassie and Gwen about that once, when Beth and I lived here... Gwen called it a Charm of Misdirection. It's like... if you don't know how to find the house, or aren't led here, you just won't see it, or you'll forget you were looking for it, or get distracted. She said it takes someone with a strong will and a lot of determination to get past it."

"Weird," Aadi breathed.

"All part of the wonderful weirdness that comes with being friends with Miranda, I guess," Jake smiled. 

"Says the werewolf," Aadi pointed out.

"Yeah, well, I've been a werewolf since I was a kid," Jake chuckled. "I'm used to it."

"Puppy, I'm a gay, non-binary, karaoke singing artist with blue hair," Aadi laughed. "I Get it."

"I guess you do," Jake smiled. 

"Puppy?" he added as they walked out of the kitchen.

"Sounded right," Aadi said. "You don't like it?"

"I like it," Jake laughed.

"So, you have refrigeration again," Jake told the others, who were out enjoying the warm summer night. "Oh, and thanks Jordan." 

"What did I do?" Jordan asked.

"You didn't try to fix the 'fridge, boo," Aadi teased. Jordan was, without doubt, the love of Aadi's life but they could not be trusted with tools.

"I still think I could have fixed that sink," Jordan insisted.

"Thanks, Jake," Abbey smiled. "For saving us from Jordan's DIY disasters." 

"Any time," Jake grinned. "Say hi to Amber for me? I'm sorry I couldn't get here before her bedtime."

"She'll pout about missing you," Abbey sighed, thinking about the inevitable tantrum when her little one learned she'd slept through a visit from 'Uncle Jake,' "but I'll tell her."

"Jake, can I talk to you about something," Aadi said softly. They'd been putting it off, they realized, but Jake was about to leave. It was now or never.

"Anything," Jake said with a confident strength that reminded Aadi that this man, who wasn't much older than they were, was a husband, a father and a leader of his community. 

"Our little M&M's," Aadi started, then realized Jake might not know that nickname for their friends. "Miranda and Mariah... you know they're in trouble... on the run from Very Bad Men. I just... shouldn't I be Doing Something."

"You want to help her," Jake said. "So do I... but the best thing we can do right now is what we're doing."

"We're not Doing anything," Aadi said, struggling to keep their voice down.

"Yeah, we are," Jake said calmly. "We're keeping the home fires burning. They're going to need a safe place to go to. Probably not right away... too many people know about this place even with the Misdirection thing... but someday they're going to need a familiar place, a safe place, to come to."

"Is it... safe?" Aadi asked, realizing that Jake was right. The Bad Men knew about this place. Wouldn't they look here?

--------------------

The White She-Wolf snarled softly. There was no scent of her prey here. Instead, the air was thick with the scent of mortals and of other Wolves. The Wolf scents were familiar, the scents of rivals. They crisscrossed the fields. They came here often, a pack patrolling the boundaries of their territory... and He was here now. The pack leader. His scent filled her. The Wolf in her whined, as instinct demanded she roll over, show her throat, surrender to him. The Woman in her growled in frustrated refusal to submit. 

She would not yield. 

She would watch and wait. The prey would come. Then Jake Volkov would show her his throat... and she would rip it out.

In Shadow - Ch 4 - Living Situation

"Hey... umm... Genie... I hate to ask but rent is due soon," Gabbie said. "You've got your half this time, right?"

Days had gone by without any more word for Miranda or Mariah. Genie had the strange feeling that life was moving on and standing still at the same time. 

"Yeah, we're good," Genie sighed. "I'm sorry about last month. Things just kinda got away from me. No more spending money on frivolous stuff... like food."

"You really don't want to ask your folks for a little money?" Gabbie asked, clearly more curious than anything.

"Very no," Genie said, shaking her head. Yes, her family had giant piles of money, inherited from her grandfather, Jacques Villareal. Their house was really more of a mansion, and they even had a live-in butler. Genie hated all of it. 

"Between my dad's politics and my mom's... everything... I don't want anything to do with them or their money," Genie continued. "Besides, I'm working now, so we should be OK."

"OK, great," Gabbie said.

"Speaking of work, I should get going," Genie said. "That background research isn't going to do itself."

"Another exciting day in the life of an intrepid reporter," Gabbie grinned.

"I'm sure it is... for the actual reporters," Genie laughed. "One of these days, I'll actually get to do a story instead of just research, but for now... well, rent's due. See you tonight."

------------------

"What are we watching?" Gabbie asked.

"City Council election debates," Genie said, a little surprised that she actually was watching. After a day spent doing research on the candidates, she'd honestly planned on coming home and zoning out to a cooking show. Instead, she felt drawn to watch the debate.

"Why?" Gabbie wondered. "Also, is that guy wearing a..."

"A llama suit?" Genie replied. "Yes. Yes, he is." 

"Again, I ask - why?" Gabbie huffed out a little laugh.

A quick knock at the door was immediately followed by Gabbie's boyfriend, Anthony. Genie was long used to the fact that wherever Gabbie was, Anthony was sure to turn up eventually. At least this time, he'd knocked before barging in. At least this time, Genie thought, she was dressed.

"Evening ladies," he said cheerfully.

"Hey," Gabbie replied with a dreamy smile.

"Hi, Anthony," Genie said. 

She still didn't really get why Anthony and Gabbie didn't live together. He spent most of his time at her apartment... but since, if he did, she'd be out on the street, she wasn't going to make an issue of it.

"You watching the Council debate?" Anthony asked, interested. He'd been a Political Science major when they'd all met in college and was now working for the local Representative to the Lower House. He'd even talked about running for office himself in a few years. 

"We are," Genie said. 

"Genie put it on," Gabbie said. Despite her boyfriend's political ambitions, Gabbie had never shown the slightest interest in the subject.

"So, Mr. Holloway, would you care to comment on Councilor Baxter's eccentric performance during tonight's debate?" Genie asked, in her best reporter voice. 

"Representative Ojo's office has no comment," Anthony replied in his own official-sounding tone, then he chuckled and added. "Off the record, the guy's gone bug-nuts crazy."

"Are you two going to talk shop or are we going to..." Gabbie leaned in and whispered something in Anthony's ear.

"And that's my cue to exit," Genie laughed, making quickly for the door. "Have fun you two. Try not to break the bed."

OK, so it wasn't an ideal living situation, Genie thought, but it could be worse. At least this time, she made it to the door before they started making out.

"Hey, Genie," the guy from the apartment across the hall greeted her as she passed the mailboxes.

"Good evening, Mr. Scott," Genie said brightly.

"Going out?" He asked.

"I thought I'd give the lovebirds some privacy," Genie said. 

"Well, you take care," Mr. Scott said seriously. "I saw Representative Friend on the news last night, talking about the crime problem... and you know this isn't the best neighborhood."

"I'll be careful, Mr. Scott," Genie assured him.

Mr. Scott meant well, she knew. She was a little disappointed to learn he was listening to the doom-and-gloom rhetoric Representative Friend and his Axis party was pushing. With her dad - the less-than-Honorable Representative Rohan Elderberry - now aligning himself with Friend's Axis party, she really wasn't a fan. Honestly, crime was actually down since the Landgraab Syndicate had been broken up and Nick Alto was in jail. She still couldn't quite believe that charming Mr. Alto had been a crime boss.

Of course, thinking about that brought her back to thinking about Miranda and Mariah, out there somewhere, on the run...

I have to do something, she thought, but Aadi was right when they said they have no idea what to do.

------------

Author's Note: The characters of Gabriella Moretti and Anthony Holloway were originally created by simmaddness in their Britechester Roommates household and were downloaded from the Gallery.