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Venom: Beautiful Killers. Part 25.

"Why would you do that?"

The motorcycle works perfectly and Winter is taking gluttonous advantage of it. She and her GPS have now been on the road for a good three hours. During all that time, she has been weaving in and out of traffic, willingly breaking speed limits, and reveling in the attention she continually brought to herself. Her dark, leather jacket and blue jeans, the custom design of the bike, and her dark gloves create an ensemble that is hard to miss. But the item that seems to get the most attention is the head covering.

The shiny, pitch black helmet works just as well as any other; it even has a dark windshield to protect the wearer from high winds and the sun's glare. The distinguishing features, however, let people know that this helmet belongs to a wolf. The front is elongated to accommodate her muzzle; the sides are thinner since she does not have the round face of a human; the top has two raised spaces on either side of it, giving her ears room to stick out. From afar, the helmet looks like it has small horns on it. Everywhere she goes, people stop and stare. Meanwhile, she looks straight ahead, perfectly mindful and appreciative of the looks.

The sun is high and lonely, so the time must be past noon. The white wolf veers the bike to the left, bringing her house into view. It is a modern-looking, two-garage house with a lusciously green front lawn. There also happens to be a blue car parked in front of it. Shiloh's car is not blue. The wolf stops in her tracks, taking a good look at the vehicle. After about a minute, she nods and rides herself in to the driveway. As she gets closer to the front door, she sees a welcome guest, sitting on the steps by the front door.

As quickly as she can, she parks the motorcycle and gets off. Taking her gloves off, she lets out a loud laugh; it is muffled by the helmet. Also muffled is her greeting. "Is that who I think it is?"

Tivoli was just sitting there, sunning herself while reading a large paperback, when she heard the Winter's voice. She is a bit startled at first, but when the helmet and gloves are removed, she laughs and tosses the book aside.

Before the ocelot can speak, the wolf tosses the helmet at her. "Hold this for me, would you?" She reaches into her pockets looking for the keys, clearly happy to be home.

Tivoli marvels at the piece of equipment she has just been handed. "What is this?"

"What does it look like?"

"This is marvelous. I've never seen anything like it. Where'd you get it?"

"I won it. Shiloh and I got into it a little bit, and this was my prize. It wasn't a fight or anything, just a misunderstanding. But he felt bad enough to overcompensate. After getting his bike fixed, he had this custom-made for me. He also got me the gloves and this new pair of--"

"Look at the little ears. They're so cute. They look like baby goat horns."

"...blue jeans." She chuckles as she opens the door, exposing the ocelot to what looks like the very definition of opulence. There is plush carpeting on the floor and a long, red, velvet couch that is meant to draw attention. The couch sits in front of a wall-mounted flat screen that looks to be more than fifty inches. Underneath the television is a home theater system, complete with speakers, high-definition cables, a long and sleek DVD player, and a collection of discs and video cassettes. There are pictures and paintings strewn all over the walls. There are two tall lamps on either side of the television. Behind the couch is a fireplace, decorated with animal figurines and more pictures, including one of the wolf couple.

Tivoli looks around as if she were lost. "I haven't been here since Shiloh invited me last month. You guys bought more stuff since I was last here." She places the helmet by the fireplace and gently pokes one of the figurines.

Winter tosses her gloves on the couch and locks the door behind her. Once she turns around, she is taken by surprise. The ocelot has latched onto her, embracing her tightly and joyfully. The hug staggers her a bit, but she responds by playfully rubbing the feline's head. "I'm glad to see you too. It's been a while. Have you been working all this time?"

Tivoli releases her grip and heads for the couch. "Yeah, we bagged our first one. I met the mark and facilitated our entrance to his house. Then Paraná did the dirty work. It was scary, but--"

"Who did the work?"

"Paraná, the jaguar. You don't know him?"

"Never heard of him." Winter starts to take off her jacket. "Maybe I've seen him before, but I don't really know many of the hitmen in the office. Those I do know, I'd rather just forget."

"Really? How come?"

"They don't like me. Let's just leave it at that."

"I only really know three personally; Paraná, Hoeness, and...hmm...I forget the other one."

"He's your handler? The jaguar?"

"Yes, he is." She giggles as Winter sits next to her. "It's been almost two weeks, and I couldn't be happier. We're totally compatible. I'd say he's the most relatable big cat I've ever met, and he's not even from here. He's strong, he's honest, and he's very brave; he lost a fingernail when he killed the mark, and he barely flinched. I cringed, but he took it all in stride."

Winter leans her head back and stretches her arms up. After a yawn, she turns her tired eyes towards her friend. "So things are going well then. When's your second?"

"Today, if everything goes according to plan. I'm supposed to meet Paraná in a few hours. From there, it's straight to Beverly Hills. That's where the mark's gonna meet us. " She presses her mouth closed. Her smile is replaced with stoicism. She turns away from the wolf and clasps her hands together. "Can I ask you something uncomfortable? You don't have to answer if you don't want to, but I'd really like to know. When is the right time to tell someone you care about him?"

Winter places her hands behind her head and laughs at the question. It is a quiet laugh, one that does not poke fun at the ocelot's query, but makes Tivoli nervous just the same. The wolf stares at the ceiling. "You're dating your handler?"

"Does that seem wrong?"

"Well...." The wolf smiles and sighs, as if reminiscing. It takes her a minute, and the sharp breaths of a nervously impatient ocelot, to come up with an answer. "It's a bit creepy--dating while you kill people, or dating while you plan a kill. I don't believe your handler would let it happen."

Tivoli clears her throat, seeming more uncomfortable. "Look, to be fair, he's all business. Paraná is focused, first and foremost, on the mission at hand. Whenever we're together, he never lets me forget what we're doing. He makes sure that I understand everything, and I don't forget anything he's taught me. That said, we've gone out together a lot, mostly so he can give me tips and tricks. But every once in a while, he lets me hold his hand, he puts an arm around my shoulder...." She hangs her head, looking like she has done something wrong. "I've snuck in a kiss here and there. One time, I kissed him on the mouth. He seemed fine with it." She straightens herself and turns to her friend. "We enjoy our time together. There's really nothing creepy about it. I mean, you and Shiloh have killed together, and you two are perfectly fine." She is now probably anticipating a scolding.

Winter chuckles. "Relax. Don't take offense." She crosses her legs underneath her, seeming totally interested. "For a long time, Shiloh wouldn't tell me where he worked or what his job was. When he finally did tell me, I told him I wanted to work there too. Again, for a long time, he said no. I understood the reason why right away. Besides the fact that he never thought of me as a killer, he is against interoffice relationships. He was afraid if we worked together, or at the same job, then our bond would suffer. He was afraid that we'd compete against one another...or something like that. I'm glad to say that, as of right now, his fears are completely unfounded. We're lovers in this house, that much is true, but when we're working, we keep things professional like a couple of real good friends. So nothing bad is going to happen."

"That's exactly how I feel about my handler!" The ocelot scoots herself closer to Winter. "I really like him. He's brave, he's smart--"

"You've said that already."

"Whatever! He's absolutely gorgeous and we're so compatible, it's scary." She takes a breath and turns serious again. "I haven't told him this. I think I want a relationship with him. I want us to go out on real dates. I want him to kiss me good night. I want...to touch him in places."

"Could you at least wait until you're no longer under his tutelage?"

"Yeah, of course! But for the record, he's wonderful and when the jobs are done, I'd like to see him often."

"You want something to eat while you're here?" Winter stands and stretches.

Tivoli stands with her. "Yes, but nothing too heavy. Paraná and I leave tonight at six. He successfully traded a low-paying mark for one of huge value. I can't wait to get started."

"Do you have a plan?"

"He does. He hasn't told me yet. He doesn't want me to get nervous...."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

[I am still in a morphine-stimulated haze, but other than that, everything is fine. My appetite is back in a big way and this is the first time I have felt full since I was admitted. My headaches are slowly going away and so is my fever. I am regaining my strength every day. The doctors have been happy with my progress so far.]

[The only thing wrong with me now is the pain where my new scar is. It comes and goes, but when it's there, it is actually quite painful. I have the morphine with me just in case, but I imagine I will not need it today. At times like this, I'd normally ask about being discharged and going home, but right now I am more interested in the dream I've just had. I'm writing down the details right now, wondering how Tivoli and Paraná will do on their second mission.]

[It's ten in the morning. My doctor should be here in a couple of hours. I should do a little exercise and show him that I'm not drowsy....]

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The digital wall clock reads 5:15. The business day has come to an end, and all but a couple of clients have left. Vivian Cross is escorting some of the stragglers out the door. As she engages in small talk with them, she yawns heavily a couple of times. Mentally, she is probably already home. She waves at her customers as they leave, then closes the door wearily. "Another day, another dollar."

She straightens her blouse and starts making her way to the hall. As she gets closer, the sound of muffled chatter and laughter makes its way towards her. The sounds flow down the hallway like a slow-running stream. Mrs. Cross sighs with dread; she knows who is coming and does not really feel like dealing with them. Adjusting her blouse once again, she stands by the front desk in anticipation of her guests.

Pica and Dunn are the first to emerge from the hallway. The bobcat has his arm around the shoulders of the swift fox. They are followed by the two red foxes, Boris and Benny, the salamander Stefano, the dingo Rory, and Paraná. Everyone is in a good mood; they are laughing in anticipation as Rory is in the middle of telling a dirty joke at the expense of a female coworker. Once they see the chief standing in front of them, the smiles disappear, one after the other.

In time, the seven males are gathered in front of her at a distance, huddled together like penguins in the Antarctic, looking at her cautiously. Stefano is in the middle of the group; he stands out because he is the tallest and because he is very red. Rory has his hands on his mouth and his back turned, afraid that she might have heard him.

Mrs. Cross smirks at them and shakes her head. "At ease, boys."

Slowly, the men separate. Stefano boldly walks up to her and clears his throat. "Good evening, chief. Say, listen, why is the conference room locked?"

"Oh, that. Ted left as soon as it was closing time. Colin and Joe left with him. And as for the other two, Simon called me from the hospital; he's getting shots for his son. I don't know where Robert is, but I imagine he's out on the road, getting more marks."

Paraná clears his throat and steps toward. "Mr. Crevecoeur is in Beverly Hills, keeping track of a mark for me."

"Oh okay. Anyway, the bottom line is that...all the execs are gone for the day, so if you've just finished hunting a mark, I'm afraid you won't get paid today. That means there's no reason for you guys to be here. But since you are, could you be helpful enough to wipe the furniture clean? We've had a lot of people show up today and a couple of them looked like they've been through a dust storm. There are wipes in the drawers of the front desk."

Stefano nods in agreement and the men let her pass by. She nods at them expectantly before she disappears. The group then spreads out, with each worker hovering above the slightly disorganized chairs. A couple of them do have signs of dust and one has what looks like bread crumbs on it.

"Fuck this," Rory says, surprising everybody. His sudden outburst causes a few laughs. Angrily, he looks around at his friends. "What's so funny? I'm serious. I'm not doing this. That's the janitor's job." He turns and heads for the hall.

Stefano turns his head to watch him. "Where are you going?"

"Home. I brought down my mark a couple of hours ago and I'm real tired. If I'm not getting paid for it, then I might as well be off. Matter of fact, why don't we all just go? We could be outta here before the chief knows we're gone."

Paraná clears his throat and sits on a chair. "You go on ahead. I'm going to stay here for a little bit."

"What do you mean? Don't you have an assignment with your apprentice in a few minutes?"

Benny nods in agreement. "That's right. You took Arlo McDaniels away from us. Shouldn't you be out there earning that huge fee?"

The jaguar laughs in response. "Don't worry. I'll be on my way soon enough. Tivoli will wait for me no matter how late I am. But there is a very special reason why I'm going to wait here. I think you guys would be interested in staying too."

Stefano pulls a chair towards him and sits in front of Paraná. "Really? Why is that?"

"Come on now. Are you trying to tell me that you're not the least bit curious to see Pamila doing janitorial work?"

The salamander raises his brow. Rory smiles. Everyone else looks at the jaguar with interest. Pica and Dunn laugh when they hear Pamila's name.

The jaguar continues, "I'm sure everyone here would like to see her below us, where she belongs. That's what I'd like to do."

Rory nods and returns to the group. "Well, it is a curious oddity that I'd like to see. But how do you know she'll even show up? Maybe she'll decide she won't work on Wednesdays and come by tomorrow instead."

Stefano laughs. "And what are you gonna do if she does arrive? Give her a hand?"

Paraná shrugs. "I haven't given that much thought. I just want to see it with my own eyes. What about you?"

"Count me out. I see her enough of her as it is." Stefano stands and starts walking away. "Since we're not getting paid, I'll see you tomorrow."

The boys wave at him while he goes out the front door. The bobcat rubs his hands together. "I'm gonna stay too, for at least a few minutes."

Dunn looks at his partner with a concurring eye. "I'll get the playing cards from the storeroom."

Slowly but surely, the remaining males silently agree to wait with the jaguar in the hopes of seeing the temporary janitor come through the door. While the fox gets the cards, the rest of them wipe clean the chairs in the room. The whole time, they are making jokes at Pamila's expense. There is clearly equal hatred of the red fox among them, but it has never truly materialized like this before. They even jokingly bet on who would get to take her home to clean for them.

They gather around the front desk to play poker; they each happen to have handfuls of ten- and twenty-dollar bills. They throw money in the ante and prepare for a game of five card stud. As they pick up their cards, the door suddenly flies open. Everyone turns to see who has arrived. Paraná has a smile on his face; he is clearly expecting the female fox.

The visitor is not a fox, but a canine. He looks around as the door closes behind him. He is a disheveled being, wearing an old, plaid, short-sleeve shirt and khaki shorts. Paraná and company eye him suspiciously. A couple of them sniff him at a distance. There is something odd about his presence. The foxes move in a little closer. "Who is that," Boris whispers.

The dog's clothes leave enough space for them to get a good look at his features. His face and most of his body is tan. His arms are white up to his elbows and his legs are white up to his knees. His fluffy tail is curled up like an upside down question mark. He definitely does not look like any dog ever seen before in this place.

Now Pica leaves his place at the table to get a closer look at the stranger. His eyes lower in anger and his hands clench. His voice is low and as threatening as possible. "Who are you?"

The dog raises his eyebrows. "You don't recognize me?" He quickly closes in on the men, causing some of them to back away.

Pica gets the closest to him. The bobcat's eyes scan the now smiling dog. Dunn stands behind his partner to scrutinize him as well. Their eyes may be deceiving them, but if the dog is familiar then their noses will tell them. Sure enough, Pica gasps in surprise. "Hoeness?"

"What gave me away? You like the disguise?"

Everyone now crowds around him to get a closer look at his makeup. The red foxes gently tug and pull on his arms, paying special attention to the area where his normally dark fur is colored white. In an answer to Hoeness' question, the bobcat scrunches his face. "You look dreadful."

The German Shepherd scoffs. "Everyone's a critic. Out of the way. I gotta go see if I need to make some changes."

The crowd backs away. Rory has a wide-eyed look on him; it is hard to tell if he is either amazed or horrified. "Just what are you supposed to be?"

"An Akita. What else?"

"Again? DIdn't you go as one last week?"

"I did that to sidle up to this girl I needed to meet. I needed to get into her good graces. The problem is that she's a purebred, and is not allowed to go out with anyone who isn't an Akita. So I have to do this."

"Is the girl the mark?"

"No. Her father is."

Pica is starting to laugh. "And this pitiful disguise works?"

"Hey, it's fooled her so far."

Paraná shakes his head in disbelief. "Then she must be blind. I've seen Akitas. You barely look like one."

"Oh really? Why don't you come with me to the locker room then? Show me what I'm missing."

The jaguar sighs and looks at the watch on his right wrist. "Okay. I may still have time." He leads Hoeness away from the group and through the hallway. "Deal me out, everybody, but don't take my money."

With that, Pica reshuffles the cards, putting Paraná's part of the ante aside. "Once again, five-card stud, no limits, and...which cards do we make wild?"

Dunn laughs. "Let's play hi-lo."

Most everyone looks at the swift fox and laughs; Pica drops the deck. Rory slowly sits at the desk, wincing with dread. "Why would we want to do that? I hate that game."

"It's Pamila's favorite poker game. I figured if we played it, it might make her get here faster."

"Of course it's her favorite! It's the only way she can beat us consistently. Let's play Texas Hold 'Em."

Dunn shakes his head. "Nope. Not enough money. If we were being paid, it would be a good idea, but not today."

"She cheats. I just know it. I don't know how, but there's no way that bitch is better at card games than me."

"Wow, I didn't know Australians could say bitch."

"I guess Pamila brings it out in me."

Pica clears his throat. "Can I ask you something, Rory? I know you go to The Shark Pit often. Have you been affected by the raids?"

"I have a little bit. You see, I'm the lookout. Since the owners know about what we do here, I offered to serve as their watchful eye. Whenever there's police presence about, I give a signal and everyone's at his or her best behavior. It's a pretty powerful system. As long as I do my job, nobody can possibly be suspected of anything; no one can get in trouble. I like doing it...and I don't even mind that I don't get paid for it. It's my pleasure as an honored guest." He clears his throat as he takes the hand dealt to him. "That said, the police presence has increased over the past two weeks. I've been too busy giving signals to actually enjoy my beer. The bar has had a tense atmosphere about it lately."

"Today's Wednesday. There hasn't been a raid to any bar around here since Saturday. Are you sure there's still a danger?"

"Just because the raids have stopped doesn't mean police aren't there. They're still patrolling the streets. They're just not getting out of their cars this time. I think there's something else going on."

While everyone else looks at each other with uncertainty, Pica nonchalantly deals the cards. He appears unfazed. "They're giving up. That's all it is. The trail's gone cold. Unless that bitch has been seen around town, it'll stay that way."

"I think it's something else. I think they're giving us a false sense of security until someone is caught doing something wrong. I don't know for sure, but I've got the feeling that the feds have taken over the investigation, which means we'll have to be extremely careful."

Pica stops dealing and everyone picks up a hand. They do so slowly and cautiously, putting great thought into what the dingo is saying. The room is less relaxed than it was before. Dunn nervously clears his throat. "You mean we haven't been careful?"

Rory stands and stretches his arms over his head. "Look, I suggest that we take a break from The Shark Pit." He retakes his seat as words of protest from the others rain down on him. "I know it's not a popular decision! Believe me, I don't like it either. But I think we, and other pubs, are still being watched. If I was a cop, and I thought you were housing a terrorist, I'd do the same thing. If there is special attention being paid to us, then I don't want to be there. I went there on Sunday and told Casey that I wouldn't be there this week. So, if anyone in uniform has been suspecting me of any wrongdoing, that'll end right away."

The foxes show their disdain immediately. Boris shakes his head and Benny says, "I'm not going anywhere else. If police think I'm anyone other than a paying customer, then they're sadly mistaken."

Pica nods defiantly. "That's right. They can go fuck themselves. I'm not going to some other bar."

The dingo responds with a surprising chuckle. "You're loyalty is awesome. It really is. I just think it's more sensible to lay low."

The game begins with each of the players passing. The bobcat looks on intently and licks his lips, inadvertently letting everyone else know that he has a good hand. "I'll open with ten dollars. Don't worry, Rory. We'll all be fine. The only one who works here who absolutely needs to lay low is Pamila. Isn't that right, partner?"

He was addressing Dunn, standing to his right. The swift fox is looking at the front door instead of his cards. Even though it is his turn to either bet or fold, he is clearly not paying attention. His ears are fixed straight up, his eyes are wide, and his teeth are starting to show. The others look at him impatiently.

Pica taps the fox's left shoulder. "What's the matter? What are you looking at?" It takes mere seconds before his question is answered. The front door opens. Soon afterwards, nobody is paying attention to the card game.

Pamila enters quickly at first, barging in noisily like she was in a hurry. She makes sure that the door is closed behind her, then sniffs the air. She senses a change in atmosphere and sighs slowly. She now knows there is at least one person behind her and shudders anxiously. As five pairs of eyes stare at her back, the red fox tries to gather herself. She stands there, facing the door for several minutes, possibly waiting for someone to say something.

The nerves slowly pass and moments later, Pamila is calm. Her arms hang loose and her shape softens. She has a reputation to maintain and she cannot appear weak right now. After taking another breath, she turns around. Even though she is facing a large number, she hardly looks surprised. They watch her as she passes them, each one giving her pretty much the same angry look. As if he has just been reminded of how much he hates her, Pica slightly bares his teeth.

Without any fanfare, the fox goes through the hall and becomes one with the darkness. She breathes out loudly; she had been holding her breath during her brief encounter with the poker players. Now she is more relaxed than before. There are loud voices coming from the locker room, but they are hardly important. She walks straight into the chief's office and pushes the partially open door.

Tobias is inside, putting the finishing touches on a hard day's work. The desk and wooden cabinets are spotless. The floor has a few streaks showing where the mop had been. All papers and the laptop are arranged neatly on the desk. Right now, he is wiping the liquor cabinet, making sure not to disturb the prized possessions inside.

She immediately towers over him. "Give me the keys," she says angrily.

The boy is startled. He quickly turns, striking the expensive-looking cabinet with his left elbow. He drops is towel and winces in pain, rubbing the affected spot. It takes a minute before he acknowledges the fox. Her angry look causes him to smile and wave sheepishly.

"Give them to me...right now!"

He fishes in his pockets for the items asked of him. "I didn't hear you come in," he says.

"Exactly the thing that my second-to-last mark said to me right before I did him in."

He stops moving to take in what she just said and to observe her angry face. "Noted." Without hesitation, he throws the keys at her. She catches them without flinching. "I've already finished in here," he says. "I'm about to clean the restrooms."

"And where the hell do I begin?"

"Anywhere you want. The executive room is clean too, so you don't have to go there, except to punch in."

"Lucky me."

"The chief just left. She sends her regards. Hoeness just came in here too. He sends his."

Pamila stops in her tracks. The mere mention of those names makes her heart beat faster. She closes her eyes and shakes her head; the presence of the German Shepherd is clearly the last thing she needs. Nevertheless, she leaves the office and opens the door to the conference room. Cursing under her breath, she enters the room and disappears.

The door to the executive room closes just in time for Paraná and Hoeness to leave the locker room right across from it. The light from Vivian's office shows off the improvements to the dog's look. Hoeness' fur has been combed neatly, especially around the arms and the legs. He looks less ragged and more presentable. The jaguar pats him on the back. "I may not have the skill Loiola has, but I know what I'm doing."

"There's not that much different."

"You look less like a homeless man."

"Very funny. I was fine before. I just needed some touching up." He straightens his collar and clears his throat. He is more than ready to go. "Wish me luck. This is worth ten grand."

"Oh yeah? Well, mine is worth even more."

"Don't rub it in."

The men leave, disappearing through the hall. Seconds later, Pamila leaves the conference room. She has no knowledge that Hoeness was just there, but sniffs the air suspiciously. Shrugging it off, she makes her way back to Tobias. The anger on her face is magnified by her posture. She is walking quickly as if going after someone. She is breathing forcefully through her nose and her teeth are clenched. If Tobias did not have his back to her at this very moment, he would think that his days were numbered.

"Your keys, good sir." Her voice is tight and breathy. It is dripping with sarcasm and ill intentions.

He is still not looking, wiping the liquor cabinet. "You can start by vacuuming the waiting room."

She scoffs. "Not a chance in hell, not with the glee club still in there."

"How many are there?"

"Five, and judging by the smell in the air, at least a couple of more."

The boy stops cleaning the cabinet, satisfied with the work he has done. He turns to the fox. "You wanna clean the toilets in the women's room? I'll do the men's. The tools are already in there, so you don't have to search for anything."

"How long have you been doing this?"

"A little over six months."

"You any good?"

"For fifty a day, I have to be."

"I'm just asking because the whole time I've been here, I've never taken any interest in how clean anything was. I've never paid attention to your work either."

"That's the idea. If no one notices what you've done, you've done well."

"And just how do you 'do well' cleaning toilets?"

Tobias starts on his way. She follows closely behind. "Toilets get rust stains that accumulate without consistent cleaning. If you clean them every couple of days, the stains never materialize. Don't you know that? You've never cleaned the ones in your house?"

"Do not do that! Do not tell me that I should know how to do this. Only the chief gets to do that...and only because I let her!"

"All right! I'm sorry. Just clean the toilets and the sinks. I'll handle the mopping."

They go their separate ways. Pamila enters the women's restroom not knowing what to do first. Looking around, she finds a spray bottle of purple cleaning fluid between the pair of sinks to her left. Next to it are a couple of white towels and a scrub brush, presumably for the toilets. The items are standing there, waiting for her like a bunch of unwanted gifts. She looks at them for a few minutes, at first from a distance, then she closes in on them. After a breath of hesitation, she then looks at the sink with even more anger than before. "This shit's perfectly clean! I could eat off of this damned thing!" The look on her face changes slightly, and anger eventually gives way to disappointment. This is her third day working under Tobias and she hates every single second of it. Still looking at the spotless sinks, she gives up her resolve, picks up one of the towels and starts to wipe. "If you clean every couple of days, stains never materialize."

Using very little of the cleaning solution, Pamila wipes the sinks, the counter, the large mirror, and some of the surrounding tile. She hums softly to herself as she does it, helping the time to pass quickly. She is trying very hard to prevent her hands from smelling like the room she is cleaning, so she constantly inspects and sniffs her fingers. Every so often, the sounds of muffled voices flow from behind the restroom door, but they provide very little distraction.

It barely takes fifteen minutes before she decides that she is done with this chore and tosses the towels aside. Pamila grabs the spray bottle and the scrub brush and heads for the stalls. The look on her face has changed again, from angry to calm. The effort that she put into her task seems to have quenched her temper. Seconds later, she has opened the nearest stall, the first of five in the room.

The opened door reveals that someone else had been in the room the entire time she was. It is Mieri, the red panda, complete with her shocking red fur, long tail, and generally silent character. She is fully clothed, so she is not exactly using the facilities. She is simply sitting there with her elbows on her knees and her head hung low. The sight of her surprises Pamila, causing her to back off slightly. Her anger returns and she curses under her breath. She is not intent on spending more than is needed and would prefer the obstacle to get out of her way. Calmly, the fox drops the brush at the panda's feet, forcing her to move. Mieri quickly looks up, sniffing and breathing heavily. She has been crying.

A quick glance at the angry fox forces her on her feet. She wipes her eyes with her hands and shakily steps aside. "I'm...sorry. I'll get out of your way. I heard you come in, but I...needed time to myself. Sorry." With that, she runs out of the room.

Throughout that very short exchange, Pamila looked straight ahead. She never looked at Mieri's face or observed her frayed appearance. Whatever remorseful feelings that were on display are none of her concern. She only wants to finish cleaning. After the panda awkwardly leaves, she kneels in front of the toilet and inspects it thoroughly. At first glance, there seems to be nothing wrong with it, no stains or anything like that. It looks clean enough to eat from. The toilet seat shines from the fluorescent lights above. It hardly looks like it even needs cleaning. Even though she has just wiped the already clean sinks, the toilet is apparently a different matter. Pamila leaves it and heads to the next stall.

The toilet in this one is not as clean and needs work. She rolls her eyes and kneels down to get a closer look. There a couple of stray stains that are just visible, so she wastes no time in drowning them with the cleaning solution. A few stray droplets enter her nostrils, causing her to turn her head and sneeze loudly. She sneezes a couple of times, dropping the bottle. Her eyes start to water and she covers them with her hands. It clearly looks like cleaning toilets is new to her. Exasperated, she picks up the brush and begins to scrub the stains away. They disappear in short order.

Pamila grunts loudly and with an extreme amount of concentration. She puts her entire body into her work. When she is satisfied, she stands and flushes the toilet, voiding the remnants of the grime and the cleaning solution. The porcelain seat is now adequately clean inside and out, but the fox does not actually bother to wipe it thoroughly. She bends down to make sure the stains are gone. As she does so, her ears suddenly stand erect. There must have been a quick sound from behind her that quickly passed by. She turns her head to see that the stall door has closed behind her. She pushes it open and returns to inspecting her work. Her ears stand up again. This time, the extra sound is unmistakable. It sounds like feet shuffling. There is someone in with her. She quietly inhales, trying to get a sense of her surroundings. Whatever she smells causes her to stand. A smile creeps across her face. "Hoeness? Is that you?"

"Nope."

The voice is not as low as the German Shepherd's. It is lighter and it seems friendlier. Pamila knows better though. She has been the object of derision to her coworkers for the past week. Her smile disappears as she tries to figure out who is behind her. After waiting a few seconds, she turns to look.

"No, please, don't stop bending down on my account. I love looking at the ass of an ass."

She stares into Pica's eyes and frowns. "Get out of here. I've already had to deal with enough of you guys coming over to me to gawk. Besides, I know you're just a subordinate for the main man."

"Who?"

"Hoeness, the guy who calls the shots when Shiloh's not here; the guy whose dick you suck for better marks when it's time to make trades. I haven't heard from him in a while. I'm sure he'd love to see me with my face in the crapper."

"If you want Hoeness, I can get him for you. He's right outside. But this has nothing to do with him anyway. He doesn't know I'm here."

"Right." She closes this stall and enters the next one. Sighing heavily, she looks into the toilet.

"You don't have to bend when you can just kneel. I'm sure it'll be easier for you."

"Is that right? And why should I listen to you? What have you ever cleaned, besides your bank account?"

"Don't forget to scrub under the rim, where the holes are. You know that where the water comes out, right?"

Pamila gasps. "Is that right? I hadn't noticed. Why don't you come closer and show me how it's done, champ?"

"Yeah, right. You can learn that shit on your own. Besides, you're currently doing what you should be doing. You're clearly better at this than you are at your real job."

"I could hunt your marks with my eyes closed!"

"Predictable as always. Someone better than you comes along and you act all threatened. Is it any wonder you've ended up in such a compromising location?

After a low growl, she turns to her rival. "Go ride a dick!" Her eyes widen as she spots someone else coming inside. She chuckles after seeing who it is. "Oh, never mind. You've brought it with you."

The bobcat turns to see his lover standing right behind him. Dunn enters with a smile on his face. The usually angry swift fox is enjoying the moment. "Good evening, bitch."

Pamila smiles in return. "You even remembered my name. How nice. What's the chair for?"

Behind the males is a metal folding chair, one of the chairs from the waiting room. Dunn nonchalantly pulls it inside, takes a few steps towards her, and sits down a few feet away. From here, he has a good, close look at the new custodian. "I wasn't gonna miss this."

Standing behind his partner, Pica licks his lips and shows a malevolent grin. "All right, you! Back to work! Assume the position!"

She shakes her head hopelessly. Right now, she is choosing not to fight her luck. The men are going to stay no matter what happens. There is no advantage to be had, so she simply goes back to work. She kneels in front of the toilet and starts scrubbing while they gleefully watch. Pica is really enjoying himself and cannot help but snicker at what he sees.

It is not hard to imagine that the anthropomorphic beings who work in this building see their jobs as highly important. A lot of them see themselves as exalted members of society. To that end, when one of them is in trouble, there is usually someone nearby to help. Today, Pamila is on her own. However it happened, she is hated by both her bosses and coworkers. It seems she is not a member of the exalted ones and seems doomed to fight her way through her job. Not even her friend Camille is here to help her.

She scrubs the appliance quietly. Now that she is being watched, she tries not to show any signs of struggle. The last toilet was feeling her wrath; this one is, by comparison, getting a massage. She can feel the pairs of eyes looking at her, visually judging her as she works. There is seemingly nothing she can do to defend herself. Nevertheless, a smile creeps upon her face. The occasion hardly warrants it, so maybe she has something up her sleeve.

She stands on her feet and flushes the toilet, bending down to observe closely. As she does so, she waves her tail back and forth, making sure the interlopers get a good look at her through the old, acid-wash jeans she has on. She looks at them and chuckles quietly while she puts herself on display. "You boys getting a good look? Enjoying the view?"

Dunn shifts in his seat and sniffs with condescension. "Don't flatter yourself. Baboons have better looking asses."

"Hmm. That's too bad. What about you, kitty cat? You like what you see?"

Pica stops smiling and folds his arms. "Just get back to work."

Pamila stands and trots to the next stall. "Oh, that's right. You've got your boyfriend's ass to look at. My mistake."

Dunn clears his throat. "We don't give a shit about your body. We just want to see you humiliated."

The fox bends down at the next toilet. "What makes you think I'm being humiliated? I'm doing a job I have to do, and I'm being paid to do it. Are you two being paid to stare at me? Or are you just here to pass the time? Aren't you wasting your time here when you could be hunting or planning a hunt? Don't you think that's low? Don't you wanna get out there and prove that you're better at chasing marks than I am? I mean, you would think that a man of your stature would know better than to...." Her ears perk up once more. She turns to see more people coming in. "Oh good. We've got guests."

The rest of the poker players have left the waiting room and are entering the restroom one by one. Boris and Benny sneak in behind Pica. The bobcat acts surprised to see them. Rory enters with his hands around his mouth. The laugh he is covering still finds its way out.

Pamila stares at them, observing their faces and body language. While Pica and Dunn are angry, the others are actually glad to see her like this. She smirks back at them and waves. Looking closely, she can barely make out Paraná's spotted self. He has his head down, maybe also trying to hide a laugh.

"Is that everyone?"

Boris laughs. "Hoeness is outside, making a call."

"Isn't he the ringleader? When's he coming over?"

"I told you, this has nothing to do with him." Pica creeps closer, passing his partner. "We're here of our own volition."

"I'll believe it when I see it." The fox kneels and sprays the solution inside the bowl. "This is what he's always fantasized me doing, isn't it? How could he miss this prime opportunity?" She puts the bottle down and is about to scrub when she raises her head. "Wait a minute. I know what this is. You're all still angry at me about the raids at the bar. That's it, isn't it?" She waits for an answer but gets only silence. The smile returns to her face as she starts to scrub. "That must be it. Look, you can all save your breath. I've already gotten chewed out by Shiloh's ditz of a girlfriend. She stands her ground well enough, but she's a bit of a moron...kinda like you guys."

Rory steps closer, passing the two red foxes. "Damn. There was a catfight and I missed it? Unbelievable! I've always wanted to be in the room when two of you girls inevitably got into one another."

"Yeah, well, I wasn't planning on it, but I'm gonna do what she says and make you guys happy at the same time. I won't step foot in The Shark Pit for the next month. If police are still suspicious, I'll stay away longer. If I gave you my word, would that get you people off my back?"

The men look at each other quizzically. They may hate her with a passion, but they surely cannot say no to what sounds like a reasonable offer. Pica and Dunn continue to look at her while the others quietly talk among themselves. After a minute of waiting, Pamila stops scrubbing to look at them. She waits impatiently as they take what she has just said into consideration. Seconds later, the men separate. Rory steps forward slightly and puts his hands behind his back. "No."

"Assholes."

"Sorry."

She sprays the toilet again. "Don't you guys realize that I like The Shark Pit too? It's the bar I go to the most; I'd never do anything to hurt their business...not on purpose anyway. It means as much to me as it does to you. Try to see this through my point of view, okay? This place is a disease, mostly thanks to you guys, so The Shark Pit is my antibiotic. If I need to disappear for a while to keep it safe, then I'll do it. I'm sorry if that doesn't satisfy you or make you feel better. Then again, you are watching me clean the ladies' room."

Dunn yawns loudly and crosses his legs. "You know, that's way too much backtalk for a wench to be engaged in. If I had hired you to clean my house, I'd be having second thoughts right about now."

Rory laughs. "Speaking of hiring, how does it feel to be working under a human boy? That must've hurt, right? I mean, someone as proud and conceited as you are must have been brought down a peg, huh? We work for the best while you work for _him. _ If the pathetic janitor can boss you around, how much power and influence can you really wield?"

Pamila angrily scrubs away the stains. "You know what's pathetic? Tobias is in the other restroom, and he's outworking you all right now. He may have a feeble head on his shoulders, but he doesn't waste time. You're supposed to be the best killers money can buy, and you're spending your precious time here. Even if you don't have marks to hunt, you could still be doing something more productive. Boris and Benny could be raiding a henhouse. Dunn could be tossing his partner's salad. Or is it the other way around? I don't know. Considering Pica's girly voice, I assume he does the catching and Dunn does the pitching." She turns her head. "And you, my fine Australian friend. Don't you have a baby to snatch?" Her smile returns as she gets back to work. "Seriously, you guys are the lowest. If you've come to see me disgraced, you've got a long wait ahead of you. I'm perfectly fine. And in less than four weeks, I'll be back out there, kicking your asses at what you supposedly do best. In the meantime, you guys can just...ack!"

The fox does not get a chance to finish her diatribe. Without warning, and almost completely unnoticed by the normally sharp eyes of his partner, Pica has lunged toward Pamila and has dunked her head into the toilet. Drooling furiously, he holds her head in place, pushing hard as she struggles for air. The sound that emanates from his mouth is nowhere near high-pitched. "Who's low now, bitch?!"

The men quickly close in on the toilet stall, yelling at the bobcat in horror and disbelief. Pica ignores their wails and continues the torment. It takes Dunn and Rory, using all their strength, to pull the surprisingly strong bobcat away. Pica growls and fumes. He spits at the waterlogged fox and pushes himself free from the grasps of his friends.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Rory is now visibly frightened. All the males are either shocked or scared. In the background, a panicked jaguar looks at his wristwatch.

The other guys stop shouting. Dunn puts a hand on his partner's shoulder and shrugs. "Why would you do that?"

Pica breathes heavily. He stares at the faces of his friends. A moment ago, they were judging the female. Now they are evaluating him. He shakes his head in disbelief and stares into Dunn's eyes. "Why are you asking me that? Didn't you hear what she said? She made fun of us. All of us! She made fun of you! What else should I have done? Did you just expect me to stand here and--"

Pamila coughs and wheezes. Her struggles cause every head to turn and look. Her head hovers over the toilet bowl while she tries to gather herself. She stays still for a few seconds, letting the water drip from her face. She looks to be in real distress. Her heavy gasps and pants nearly match Pica's angry ones.

She props herself on her knees and covers her face with her hands. She rubs her eyes and nose, no doubt irritated by the amount of cleaning solution she used. Water drips down from her face to her clothes, and down her arms to the floor. She quickly puts her hands on her knees and looks around. Her bearings quickly restored, her eyes turn to the men. Only one of them is looking at her with anger. Nobody is laughing anymore.

Surprisingly, Pamila's reaction is nothing anyone could have foreseen. She is smiling and shaking her head. The normally hot-blooded fox is passing off the incident like it was just a harmless prank. It does not seem to bother her that Pica put his hands on her, an act that she would never put up with. Her smile leads to a chuckle, and soon, she is laughing away the stress. It is a soft, calm laugh, the kind one makes after hearing a harmless, funny joke.

Staying on her knees, the fox turns to the stunned males. "That all you got?" She runs her hands through the top of her head, squeezing her soaked ears. "You know what, bobcat? I believe you. You did come here on your own. A few days ago, the red panda...whatever her name is...told me that Hoeness would have something planned for me, to further humiliate me after he learned I'd be cleaning house. Granted, he's a son of a bitch, but he would never stoop this low. Not in a million years. He'd never attack me from behind. It's almost admirable when you come to think of it."

Dunn shakes his head morosely. "For Pete's sake, does that mouth ever stop?"

"I'll bet you're wondering what happens next. Well, I don't know what you guys are gonna do, but I'm gonna get back to work." She picks up the scrub brush lying next to her and resumes cleaning the toilet bowl. Her demeanor is frighteningly calm. "If you're anticipating a vengeful bitch, don't worry. You'll see her soon enough, in due time. You guys can relax though. I won't be able to carry it out for a while, but you all will get yours." She stands and flushes, sneezing away the irritation of the cleaning spray. The toilet bowl glistens under the lights, showing off the fox's good work. There is one more stall to go. She heads for it, almost strutting. "But first, I'm gonna deal with Shiloh's girlfriend. If she's gonna threaten me, she should at least expect a challenge."

While she continues talking, Paraná takes one more look at his watch. Without saying anything or greeting anyone, he quietly slinks away from the restroom. He is just about to leave the hallway when he spots Tobias. The young custodian has just exited the men's restroom, attracted by the noises inside the room next door. He takes a peek and sees the men standing around. Before the boy could ask any questions, Parana shakes his head. "Do not go in there," he whispers. With that, he heads off, going through the hallway and the lobby. His sharp ears can hear Pamila laughing as he exits the building.

Outside, the jaguar takes a couple of deep breaths. His face is overwhelmed with relief; he even feels like having a laugh. With haste, he reaches into the pockets of his trousers and quickly pulls out his cellular phone. His fingers rapidly punch the buttons, exposing a nervousness that his body is trying to fight. He holds the phone up to his ear and takes another breath, forcing his breathing to slow down. "Good evening, Tivoli. Sorry if you've been waiting all this time, but I'm on my way."

He listens to the ocelot and nods a couple of times. She sounds very excited.

"Just remember the plan and let's hope the meeting goes smoothly. Do you have your tools?" He listens intently and smiles, apparently getting the answer he is looking for. "Excellent. I'll be by your place in an hour...." His smile vanishes. "Dinner later? We'll see. Just focus, okay? Bye."

Paraná flips his phone closed and turns to head to his car. He is startled to see Hoeness in front of him. "Hello there. Haven't you left yet?"

The German Shepherd shakes his head. "She's picking me up from here. We'll go to the movies and her favorite hangouts, then we'll come back here. I'll meet her dad tomorrow. Tell me something...what's happening in the restrooms?"

The jaguar clears his throat nervously. The happenings in that room still have him rattled. "Oh, nothing. The guys just...wanted to get a look at the new maid."

Hoeness shakes his head in a disapproving manner. "And...is that done? Are you finished?"

"What's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that? Pamila is cleaning toilets. We wanted to see what she looked like. I'm sure you'd give your left arm to see something like that, since you hate her so much."

"All that is true, but...." Hoeness chuckles smugly. "I don't want to watch her clean. Why would I want to do that?"

"I'm not saying you have to, but our female competition is being decimated, little by little. You have to admit--this is the best thing that's happened to this place since--"

An angry growl from the dog forces Paraná to shut his mouth. "Don't you get it, dumbass? I'm not interested in seeing her inconvenienced. You shouldn't be either." He catches himself closing in on the jaguar and slowly takes a couple of steps back. "I don't care that she's doing Tobias' job. I don't want her demoted. I want her gone. I've been too busy hunting to see it, but it's time for her to go. She should be fired, just like those other bitches, Zesty and Mariana. This place would be safer and we'd be in less danger. It's not just about getting even for the police raids. It's about improving our way of life. We should be clamoring to the boss, not watching her clean the restroom." He shakes his head and turns away. His face now looks more sad than angry. "Forget it. What time is it?"

"Almost six."

"Look, sorry I blew up. Just tell those guys in there to beat it, okay? Get them out of there. There's no reason for them to be there."

"I don't think they want to do that."

"Just tell them that I'll give up hunting for the next week and give them all the real good marks if they just stop what they're doing right now." He watches Paraná nod and head back inside. "Besides, this ultimately does nothing. She'll be back hunting in no time at all."