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Puzzle Pieces

November 28, 12:55am PST San Francisco, California ...

** Eric Loupe adjusted his windbreaker.** His eyes lowered to his cellphone screen, which read, "52F" on the screen. He stuffed the phone back into his pockets and cut his gaze back out towards the bay, walking along the parking lot of Marina Green Drive. A tiny white dot in the distance caught his attention. "That Benetti sticks out from miles. What was she thinking?"

"Who are you talking to?"

The voice of a woman caused Eric to hold his breath. He turned around, coming face to face with a lady in her mid-twenties.

He breathed a sigh of relief, worried it might have been Karla. "Myself. I have a friend who just bought that little white dot," he trailed off and pointed out across the water. "It's enormous. She wanted to spend money like it was going out of style after getting a hold of a blank check from a rich guy. No, she didn't fraud him. Anyway it caused us to argue because she's supposed to be laying low and not drawing attention to herself. She never considered that it holds almost ten thousand gallons of gas, or that it needs a crew to properly operate."

The woman gazed off into the distance and rubbed her chin. "Don't those things operate themselves now? It's not automated?"

"Maintenance requires a crew. It's all touch screen fanciness and it drives itself, but that's a lot of boat to parade around in for one person with less than a handful of friends."

"What are you doing out here at this hour besides being pissed off at your friend?" she asked.

"I guess I needed a breather and... apparently I needed to vent. Sorry, I don't even know you and you don't need to hear my complaining."

"So why are you walking around out here, anyhow?"

"Why... are you asking?"

"Because I recognize your face. You're the man that shot eleven people at a bank in South Africa."

Eric tensed. "Okay, you've got me at a disadvantage. Are you following me?"

She rolled her eyes with a smirk. "No, I just randomly bumped into you and recognized you. Of course I'm following you. I'm assessing you as a threat. Standard operating procedure states I should never engage you directly because you have abilities. However, despite that debacle in Africa, you're currently assumed dead and there's no order for your capture. Interpol has no red, blue, green or orange notices out on you. You fell off the radar on all official channels. And since I don't have operational status anymore, my S.O.P. doesn't matter anyhow. I thought instead of pointing a gun at you, I could just try talking to you."

Eric stared at her for a moment then pulled his hands from the pockets of his jacket. "Say... what? Who the hell are you and why are you following me?"

"To make sure you're staying out of trouble. Why did you shoot those people?"

"Look, if you're going to ignore my questions, I'm going to ignore you. Have a good night, lady. Stop following me."

"Wait." She held her hands outstretched. "My name is Samantha Summers. I used to work for the US Government making sure you people didn't break any laws or use your abilities in public. Which... you did. On camera. Flipped over cars, blew out windows, mowed down civilians. I saw you on surveillance. You tried to kill yourself and looked confused when it didn't happen. What gives?"

Eric ground his teeth together. "Look, lady, that happened but I didn't do it. I've been trying to learn more about what happened to me. From what I can tell, the CIA was trying to do experiments on mind control using people with abilities. Then they were lending us out to the highest bidder. They shut down the program at the end of summer and, one by one, they gave the orders to kill affiliates and then they gave the order to have their subjects kill themselves. My orders were to shoot eleven investors that were part of a project, then turn the gun on myself. It misfired. Everything I knew before answering a payphone the day of the shooting... every detail of my life... it all disappeared. Now I have to figure out who I am and I'm not even sure what I'm capable of. Okay? Now... as good as it felt to get that off my chest, I expect some answers. Are you part of the Government branch that was behind what I did? Because if so..."

Summers held her hands up. "Whoa, no... I'm not CIA. The same day the CIA shut down that program, my department was shut down. All we did was monitor your kind and make sure everything was legitimate. We investigated crimes, protected your kind, and monitored the Esoteric Community. We were canned because we were told your kind now cease to exist. You're alive, so obviously someone was misinformed."

He eyed her. "I don't trust Government people."

"Well, I'm not Government anymore. I'm living on unemployment wages. I wasn't reassigned or anything like that. My credit history was destroyed and now I found out that I have a crappy fake employment history on record. I've never been to jail but I have a mock arrest record. They made sure I'd never have a job again."

Eric smirked. "They wanted to make sure if you told secrets nobody would believe you. That's what happens when you have a questionable past. Nobody believes you. They got you good by destroying your credibility."

"They got you worse," she murmured. "I'm living on two grand a month, but I'm still doing my job. It's all I know how to do."

"Obviously not if you just broke protocol by talking to me."

"I don't have electronic monitoring equipment. I don't have contacts to the Esoteric Council, because the supernatural government is gone. I don't have the tools to do my job, so I had to change the rules. This is the first time since you resurfaced in San Francisco that you've been alone. I just wanted to approach you and find out what the hell is going on."

"I had an argument with the woman who helped with my rescue from South Africa. I needed to clear my head. We've been under constant attack from mercenaries wearing black gear. They're trying to take out those of us who are left. I figured if I'm going to go for a walk, then I'm going to hide in plain sight. But if you're watching me with nothing more than a shoestring budget and a pair of binoculars, then... I'm in more trouble than I realized."

"Yeah. I saw those bastards go out to your friend's boat earlier. A whole team went out there. Only one came back. No mask, and he looked scared for his life."

Eric folded his arms then nodded for her to follow. He began walking and Samantha fell into step alongside of him. "Karla likes letting at least one person escape because she thinks if there's someone to tell the story of how she wiped everyone else out... that she'll be legendary."

"I've only watched you from a distance... blond girl, right?"

"Yeah. She and I quickly learned how to push each other's buttons. She's a good person at heart but she's childish. Stay away from her."

Summers held her hands up defensively. "I get it, you're protective of her because she helped you in South Africa. I've been trying to catch up with her because I think she helped me one time, months ago."

"Then be glad and move on. Karla is the kind of person who could be foolishly confident with a fist full of old, unstable dynamite. She doesn't care about the consequences. She lives her life acting like she's indestructible. You can't protect yourself from the fallout if she goes nuclear, do you understand?"

"Just calm down, damn." Summers stuffed her hands into her pockets to keep them warm. "I just needed to look into your story. Look at it from my side. I'm trained to make sure people aren't out there trying to play God with their abilities. I'm trained to make sure you're not starting trouble. Then I see you, on the internet, shooting people. Now, take into account the fact that the surveillance footage, on an official capacity, was claimed to have been destroyed. Yet it leaked to the news, then to the internet. It's been dismissed as a hoax made up by amateur filmmakers. But I had to talk to you. I had to make sure you weren't going to shoot anyone else."

Eric's eyes dropped to the pavement as they walked away from the bay together. "I sure as hell hope not. But what if the CIA could still call on me somehow? I need to know that I'm not a danger to anyone else. I need to know how to deprogram myself. And I want to know what happened in my old life before I walked away from the payphone that day. I can't remember anything before hanging up the receiver."

"Jeeze. I can't imagine what it's like. Do you have money and a place to go?"

"Not really." He gazed sidelong at her then tilted his head, as though studying her. "A place, I mean. I don't have anywhere to go. But I have money."

"Enough to stay off that yacht as long as you need?"

"I've been given a bag full of Krugerrands. Each one is an ounce of gold. You do the math. I just need to trade in one or two and I'll be fine. If I stay mobile for long, I'll put some of them into a safe deposit box or something. Why?"

She eyed him in return. "You're awfully confident, yourself. Just like the girl you're complaining about. You tell me your story; you tell me you're carrying a ridiculous amount of gold coins. Each one is worth...what? A couple grand? I don't know what an ounce of gold is worth, but I'm pretty sure a single coin is worth a down payment on a car if you wanted to buy something on the spot. Why would you tell me this, when you don't know me and tell me you don't trust government agents?"

"Lady, if you were a threat, you'd have attacked me for it. Truth is, I put the gold away two days ago. I went back to Karla's yacht, I got a few odds and ends, and I tested you to see if you were going to come at me. I feel confident I can protect myself. I've learned I'm a skilled marksman with a handgun. Those people ran after I shot the first one. I took down each target with one shot, while they were moving, from across the room. I've also learned I can protect myself without a weapon."

"I can't quite understand you. You act resentful and distrusting, yet you're still talking to me after I told you my story."

"Sounds to me like you're in the same boat as me. You have knowledge you can't talk about and you were screwed over by the people you voted into office to protect your interests. So tell me, Miss Summers, what's your country done for you that you haven't moved to Canada or Mexico?"

"Come on, I'm staying in a backpacker's room. I'll get you a room for the night."

Eric frowned. "You're serious? A backpacker's lodge?"

"Yeah. The group I'm sharing a room with... they're a little hell-bent on religion but... they don't ask questions."

Eric reached into his pocket and withdrew a fist full of cash. "This is what I got from trading in one of the Krugerrands yesterday." He stuffed the money back into his pocket then reached over and put his hand on Summers' arm. "Wait."

"What?"

"I saw something. It could have been a brake light in the distance, but... it was red. I don't need to be at the receiving end of a laser pointer."

She looked around then said, "Your kind is still being hunted, remember? You saw something red for a split second; isn't it better safe than sorry to get moving? Let's get out of this parking lot. If we move across the soccer fields between here and Marina Boulevard, we can make our way up Fillmore Street. My Rebel is..."

"As in a Honda Rebel? You have a motorcycle?"

"It's almost a hundred miles to the gallon, c'mon!" She led him through the grass, towards Fillmore Street.

"Those aren't meant for two people! And I don't even think they go over seventy miles an hour!"

"It's all I could afford! Now move! I don't want to take any chances that..." She spun like a top, arms outwards.

Eric scooped her up in his arms and hurried towards Fillmore. They crossed Marina Boulevard and moved across the intersection of Fillmore. He huffed as he ran with her. "Where were you hit?"

She brought a hand up to her chest and unzipped her jacket. She reached in and pulled out a broken cellphone and her wallet. "God," she murmured. "That hurt." The phone had a hole clear through it. The bullet was lodged in her wallet. "I'm okay. Fourth parking spot up there."

"I see the bike," he panted. "That won't hold us both. We weigh as much as that thing does. As they grew closer to the bike, his eyes widened. "Oh, Christ, is that a_side car_?"

"How do you think I keep all my belongings on a motorcycle?" She said. "Put me down, I'm okay."

Eric approached the motorcycle and let her to her feet. "I don't know if I know how to drive one of those."

Summers pulled the tarp off the top of the sidecar. "Then shut up and get in and keep your head down and ...watch your feet. All my stuff is down at the bottom."

"Goddammit, that thing won't get over sixty with all the extra weight." He climbed into the sidecar, noticing that it had a brand name on the side that he'd never heard of. "Jesus, is this a custom job? It's not going to come apart is it?"

"Shut up!" she erupted and climbed onto the bike. "God, you whine a lot for a man!" Samantha shoved the key into place and hit the ignition start button. The bike came to life but was less than impressive sounding.

Eric thought about complaining but instead leaned his head down a bit. "Where's the passenger helmet, then?"

"Like you said, it's a single passenger bike! I just use the sidecar for my belongings! Keep your head down!" She pulled her own helmet on, snapped the fastening into place then hit the accelerator.

"Fuck my life," Eric grunted in protest. He cleared his throat then called to her over the motor, loud enough she'd hear him with the helmet on. "Do we have any idea where they're coming from?"

"Judging by the side I was hit on, I'm thinking over by Pier One! That means they don't have a shot anymore. But that doesn't mean there might not be more of them." She continued up the street, turned on Lombard and took US101 towards the heart of the city.

"We need to find these guys, catch them off guard, and investigate what the hell they're doing. I want to know why the people hiring these guys had CIA permission to borrow me. I have a lot of questions and I want some answers. Are you with me?"

"You kidding?! They just shot me! I want answers, too! But we're not sneaking up on them on a motorcycle. We need to figure out where they're operating out of and go from there!"

"Right now, just get us the hell out of here."

"You don't have to tell me twice," she said. A moment later, she followed US101 around, to the right, and began to pick up speed. "You want to try and find a cop or something? I have a bullet in my wallet to prove we're under attack. Might be our best bet."

"Hell no, I don't want to find a cop! If you were hiring mercenaries to kill someone you perceived as a threat because they had super-fucking-powers... who would you pay under the table to dress up in black? Someone you don't have to train to shoot a gun, right?"

"Wait, you think the cops are in on this?"

"You don't?!"

Summers pursed her lips together with a frown. She didn't answer. Instead, she contemplated his logic. They continued south in silence. After a few minutes, he told her, "Get on the interstate. Get us out of this god-forsaken city. In fact, get on I-80."

"Where are we going?"

"San Leandro. Karla's old condo. With her having just moved onto that damn boat, if she's being watched, they won't be watching her old place. She gave me keys just incase. We should lay low there until we figure out what to do next. The quickest way is Southbound 880 through Oakland. Do you know it?"

"Yeah. Lucky for you, the interstates are all that I know. I'm not a fan of California, by the way." She afforded him with a weak smile. "I don't know if they were tracking you or me at this point. Either way, I'm sorry you're being shot at tonight."

Eric returned the weak smile. "I'm sorry you got shot tonight." He trailed off for a moment then added, "I'm glad you're alright. Damn lucky. And if it makes you feel any better, I'm quickly learning to hate California, too. But, yeah..."

"Yeah... So what's your story, then?"

"I don't even know where to begin."

"How about the beginning?"

"Yeah, sure. 1951, a French town called Pont-Saint-Esprit. I don't know if I'm Candy Jones or Arlene Grant, but hypnotherapy doesn't seem to work. And I don't think I've ever taken actual LSD. Anyway, a man named Methos conducted something called a hair follicle test and he got my prints. We still haven't figured out who I am; I'm not in any database. I remember everything current, but nothing before Friday, October 6th. And not because of drugs or because of a stroke or anything... it's all repressed somehow. But, yeah, Methos' follicle test showed no drugs in my system."

"I know about follicle tests," said Summers. "It's part of recruitment. What is it you think happened to you? Some sort of MKUltra crap? That's just crap. I've worked for the Government. I had access and clearance that was impressive for my age. And MK Ultra is not 'need to know' anymore. It's not what people think it was. It was exploration, not an actual handbook on how to do what they were hoping to understand."

"So what's MK Ultimate?"

"A video game with a lot of ninjas?"

"It's what I need to find out. You're the perfect person to help me find out where my marbles went. So I'll help you if you'll help me."

"Okay. I accept your invitation," she said. They headed for the bridge leading into Oakland. Eric handed her a bill for toll. The bill waved about in the wind. She took it and tucked it into her palm.

X

---

X

Celestial Realm...

Kiko Sigyn carefully poured out the bowl of acidic venom then placed it back into the spider web above Loki's head just as a drop of venom fell from above. She smiled. "After all these years, I'm getting quite good at doing this quickly enough that you aren't burned."

"You are good to me, Sigyn. You have my everlasting adoration and love."

"I suppose that I do," she murmured with a wan smile.

"I've not heard from you. Not since you brought me news that the anomaly has died."

"Yes. Things have changed for the better since Nathanial Carrington has died."

"Please, call him the anomaly. I can't stand his name. What news have you brought to me?"

Kiko settled adjacent to her husband and said, "We have a new man that stands in our way. And, like the anomaly, he has befriended the succubus daughter of Azazel."

"This man... who is he? What does he do? And why can we not simply kill Azazel's child?"

"The man's name is Reno Nevada. Also, the succubus is necessary to our plan. In 1997 of the new calendar, you may remember that we made use of her on the airplane? She has use. It turns out that Aris Falcon is not genetically compatible to take her unique combination of abilities. Plus she's our only link to her maternal uncle."

"Ah, yes, the protector of Temporis. The Spaniard is the only one with the power to undo all of our hard work. Surely he watches his niece. We'll need her to find and kill him."

"Exactly, my Prince. Now... The man who has befriended the succubus is in a unique position to find and stop Aris Falcon. He is an inspector of the law and has been aided by gypsy protectors. I've been attacking him at every turn. As it stands, I saw to it that he's lost his love, lost his brother, and now he's lost his control over mortal law. I will continue to push him until he breaks. Tonight, I will give him a dream; I plan to implant an idea into his mind... something foolish and dangerous. If everything works out the way I plan it, tonight will be his last night alive."

Loki smiled.

"Are you pleased?"

"Very, Sigyn. You are an impressive woman. Do you have news of the progeny of Fenris?"

"Yes, my dear Prince. All is as we've planned it twenty-four years ago. The werewolf, Rufus, has met the doomed tribe of Iceland. I gave him love and took it from him. I feel that it was extremely effective and may do it again."

"Do you have a love interest in mind?"

Kiko grinned. "Of course. I will encourage him to find love with the succubus, the one creature who cannot return his love. When their emotions are heated, I will order Tamamo to give the succubus love with another by whatever means necessary. Then I will take from the werewolf whatever he holds most dear. And, when he's a broken shell of a man, I will crush his spirit so he'll have no desire to fight back against us. That way, in the end, he'll be more likely to work _with_us."

"Outstanding, Sigyn. This werewolf, Rufus... I choose him to be the earthly vessel of my son. When Fenris is able to walk the earth again, in spirit, he will be able to finish our work, free me, and devour Odin. And then we will be free to topple the Celestial Bureaucracy."

"And what of Falcon? Do you have plans for him or will we kill him?"

"No. He will be rewarded." Loki grinned. "Let him live beneath the sea, living out his life exploring the heart of the First Age. But we'll never let him discover everything. It would be more amusing to always keep things just beyond his grasp. After all, we can't have him learning of our origins, lest he try and become one of us. So far as the rest of Earth, above the ocean surface... that will be ours."

"I love you. I will go and take care of Reno Nevada."

"Remember, we cannot have him standing in our way. Dead or alive, he needs to be put into a position where he becomes benign, harmless."

"He's become a wildcard in a short time. I cannot properly plan if he is interfering. I prefer that he simply dies, Loki."

"I have an idea."

"Oh?"

A grin crossed his lips. "I will start an argument with my so-called brother. With Thor riled, there will be the proper conditions for a storm. Have one of your messengers send for him."

"You wish to quarrel with Thor Odinson? You are foolish."

"No, my dear. A proper act of nature will kill any man except the anomaly. And now that that man is dead and gone, the power of lightning belongs solely to the gods once more. I will anger Thor, there will be a positive charge in the atmosphere, and it will mask however you wish for this man, Nevada, to die. Let a gunshot be obfuscated by thunder."

Kiko grinned. "Perhaps it would be even more fitting for him to be struck down. With ten tails, I have the ability to bend an element to my need. I will return to you soon, Loki." She leaned besides him, brushed her lips against his then said, "I will return to you soon with good news. When Nevada is dead, we will celebrate."

"Oh?"

Her grin turned to a flirty smile. "I will perform my wifely duties for you. With the death of Nevada, I will feel comfortable with turning my eyes from the Earth Realm for a while. See you soon."

"I look forward to it," he leaned up and returned her kiss.

Kiko stood, adjusted her robes and made her way out of the hot springs grove.

From behind trees wrapped in ivy, across the hot springs, Tamamo-no-Mae turned to Inari with a frown. He gestured for her to follow. They quietly left the grove together. Once away from Loki, he said to her, "I do not trick; I do not manipulate. But I know it is natural for the fox spirit to clearly out maneuver another. I've spoken to the appropriate deities and put things into place."

"As you may remember, my Lord, I prepared for this last season. Sinopa helped usher in the preparations."

"Yes, a wise strategy. You've always had a calculating mind. I did notice when you placed the board with Sinopa, the succubus, the Great Anomaly, and the lawman. I was proud of you when I saw that your plan worked."

"When Mister Nevada met and touched Nathan Carrington? It was my crowning moment. My greatest and proudest moment in recent years. I can only hope that it plays out the way I intended."

"Time will tell. And now we must observe the practiced and time-honored virtue of patience. Tamamo, you've been brave to continue working alongside of Kiko Sigyn. She claimed she rescued your soul from being lost and dragged to the land of the dead by placing you into the stone. I know you hold a grudge for her and I appreciate you working with her as a spy."

"Hai, Master. I harbor a deep hatred for the way she tricked me into being imprisoned. I am forever in your debt for guiding that Buddhist Priest, Genno, to help release me. For you, I will practice duality for the sake of information and honor... but I have one favor to beg of you, Master Inari."

"I will indulge your favor. You only need speak such."

Tamamo bit her lower lip. She reached back and fidgeted with one of her many tails. "Forgive my shame, but I have fallen in love with my student. I do not wish to pursue a romance with Sinopa-chan, but I have feelings of affection for her and crave her happiness. I broke the treaty and spoke to an oracle concerning my pupil. She will outlive her current mate. I know not when, but I know it will be painful and sudden." She trailed off, licked her lips and clenched one of her tails in her hands.

"I've never seen you anything less than confident, Tamamo-san. Please, tell me your favor. I do not judge your feelings or emotions. There is no need to be nervous."

"I'm asking something that is forbidden, Master Inari. I'm asking for a promise that Sinopa will not be slain. I will mourn with her when she feels her heart break the day she outlives her mate. But I am selfish. I cannot mourn her death. Ever. Again, I would never seek a romance with her. I am not attracted to her. But I do love her. I am in love with her. Deeply. She is the only one that can upset me, who can 'push my buttons' as the mortals say... She infuriates me, and brings me a feeling of immense pride. I hold my breath when I see her in danger. I raise my voice to her, I cry for her, I give her silence when angry with her. I cannot control my emotions around her. So, with all that I am, I ask that you break the law because of my selfishness and adoration for her."

Inari stopped walking and turned to face Tamamo. She lowered her gaze in reverence. Inari lifted her chin with a graceful touch. "You are a simple messenger and not privileged to the brooding and plotting of the court of gods... Sinopa is fated for great things. She is too important to die."

"Was... I not too important to be struck down by Miura-no-suke's arrow?"

"Jealousy is beneath you."

"I... please, I wish to understand."

"There is nothing you could have done during your time on Earth that would have helped or hindered the Earth Realm. That makes you no less important to saving it. You have your part and without you, Earth would be in danger and Sinopa would surely die. I meant only to say that the court quietly agrees Sinopa must live. You are tasked with insuring she lives. We will do everything in our power to keep her alive, but if Loki and Kiko have their way, they will become all powerful and we will be forgotten... then we cannot protect her or anyone."

Tamamo licked her lips. "Very well. I appreciate that she has your blessing. I admit, though, that I wish I didn't need to die in the physical realm. I miss the pleasure of Earth realm. Eating food, making love, the feel of silk on my body, the feel of the sunlight warming my pelt in a forest clearing."

Inari cupped her face briefly then leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "You will again feel romance one day in the future. And he will grow to return your affections. You have my word. I must attend to business of late November harvest. As you know, it is a busy time for agriculture."

"I appreciate your promise of love. Master Inari, am... am I important?"

"Hai, Tamamo-san! You shouldn't need constant adoration or reminder of your importance in order to feel important. You are equally appreciated. Your job has not been easy. You're serving me, you're tasked with a duplicitous mission, serving to aid Kiko Sigyn, and you're teaching Sinopa Crevan, who is still too young to properly give you the respect you deserve. But, like any child who doesn't understand their mother's suffrage, you have a duty to her so you can bring out the best in her. Go in peace and prosperity, Tamamo-san. And walk with your head high. You are important, I promise."

"Domo arigato, Inari-tenno." She stood there, watching as her god walked away. She released her seventh tail. It returned to the cluster of nine. She rubbed her face then headed for the Hallway of Reflection, the portals to the mirrors on Earth.

Moments later she approached one that held an image of Karla Howard. Tamamo settled before it, watching the succubus friend who has, for decades, come and gone from Sinopa's life, whether or not either woman realized or remembered it.

The succubus preened for the reflective surface, never knowing that she was face-to-face with Tamamo. The kitsune shifted back into her natural form of a small white fox. She curled her nine tails around herself.

From the other side, Karla pranced about, speaking to a male friend. "What should I call the yacht? S.S. Succubus has a ring to it, but I think this ship needs a truly proper title. Something more clever or, at the very least, something more catchy."

"Throw some ideas at me, and I'll see if one stands out." The voice belonged to Fox Parker. Tamamo watched him from her side of the mirror and shook her head, knowing exactly who he is and exactly why he was important. She sighed.

Karla put her back to the mirror then leaned on the dresser, nearly blocking what Tamamo could see. The succubus stretched then said, "God this is so hard... The Lucky Lass? The cleavage cruiser... Why am I trying to alliterate words together. God." Karla shifted her backside up onto the dresser, pressing herself against the mirror. "I need to speak to the gods of the seas and ask them for a proper name. Ohmmm. Ohhhm."

Fox Parker groaned. "Christ, please tell me you're not serious."

"Shut up, Fox, I can't hear the gods' reply if you're complaining, goober."

Tamamo sighed again. She reached up and placed her velveteen-padded palm against the portal, touching Karla's shoulder. Her eyes became half-lidded and she spoke through the succubus. "Call the yacht, 'The Busty Belle.' It meets the requirement for alliteration, and is a clever name in regards to a well-endowed female captain." She drew her paw back from Karla's shoulder.

Fox cleared his throat. "I like it."

"Like what?" Karla asked. She slid off the dresser and rubbed her forehead. "Sorry. Brain-fart, kiddo. One of those weird déjà vu moments, where... hey, what if déjà vu is where you died, used one of your continues and you get reset to a save point. Wouldn't that be weird?"

Fox eyed her. "Say what? Karla, life is not a video game. Anyway, I liked what you said a minute ago. You said we should call it 'The Busty Belle' and I like it."

Karla ran her hands up over her face then pushed her hair back behind her ears. "I did? Yeah... Wow. You know what, I like that, too. Funny how I had a brain-fart at the moment I came up with the perfect name. I think maybe I hopped down from the dresser too suddenly. I don't know. The blood rushed to my head and I got lightheaded for a second."

"Really? Must be the blond roots. You were thinking too hard. That would explain the lightheadedness."

Karla smirked at Parker. "Smart ass. Fine. We'll call her 'The Busty Belle.' I like it. Come on, let's go register the name."

"Right now?"

"Sure, why not." She walked past Parker, took him by the forearm and led him from the room. "And when we get back, we can do some training. You know you wanna break a sweat with me, babe." They headed down the hallway, and out of Tamamo's line of sight.

"The fate of the world rests on a small group of people," Tamamo said with a grumble. "And one of the key players is an airhead. Amaterasu help us."

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Next chapter: https://www.sofurry.com/view/572153