The unwritten handbook of life states: “when in doubt, and called by others who have authority on a questionable situation, obfuscate.”

In other words; lie, lie, lie.

I had several minutes to create a believable lie, and my mind was racing. When lying, the simplest one is often the best. Simple lies made it hard for anyone to gainsay you, and hard for you to forget what you said later.

So when Pearce finally walked up, lagging a bit behind the rest of the team (busy securing the site in between shooting me concerned looks) I discarded the first five ideas I'd had and said the first thing that surfaced, right as he opened his mouth.

“A human was in danger.”

He closed his mouth, looked around, then opened it again.

“And where is this citizen somehow missed in the sweep?”

I pointed to the summoner. He stared at me.

“So you risked yourself, and the operation, in order to save the life of the summoner? Is that what I'm hearing here?”

I nodded.

“He is still a citizen, isn't he? Didn't you say to avoid citizen casualties? Well he still counts, summoner or not, right?”

Wow, that stare was pretty good. I felt lower than pond scum when he stared at me like that. He'd make a fine mother or something.

“No, the summoner does not count; for future reference, if the situation arises again, you keep yourself safe, and let the summoner die.”

I nodded, trying to look contrite. I don't think he was buying it, but the excuse would fly in our world, where our kind were notoriously twitchy, and he knew that. At least, he knew that judging by his sigh.

“Look on the bright side! Now we have a moron to question about how he managed to get a hold of summoning rituals. He had to get them from somewhere, and now we can track them down before he dies!”

Sarah walked up.

“Or after. Snow's right boss, she did good. Maybe we can plug this leak we have, before it becomes a flood. This way we can make sure the demon doesn't devour the soul before we ask the questions.”

The point was conceded.

“I know, just, try not to make a habit of it. I really hate replacing you people, and so far you're the most sane I've seen, even fresh out of the program.”

Is he kidding?

“Are you shrooming? I've seen an imp twerk in a bikini; no way in hell I'm sane.”

No way anyone could be, after that. I stand 100% behind that reality. Pearce paled. Sarah paled. Cords, who had been easing closer while checking something or other with a strange device, paled.

“Dear god, they do it to themselves.”

I knew just what to say to put the fear of God into them all.

“Ask the captain, he was there.”

I only thought they had paled before; I was fairly sure all the blood they possessed was in their shoes now. Sarah was actually swaying on her feet.

“Hey calm down, sheesh; you guys act like you had seen it first hand or something; relax.”

Cords was first to speak, voice an octave higher than normal.

“Sorry, that is... just not a pleasant image.”

“Tell me about it. So um, do we need to stick around? We already have copies of the circle and samples of all the fluids. Anything else we need in order to be proper police persons?”

I had sketched the circles to compare them to the ones I knew later; and Cords had taken photos with a massive camera. The fluid samples I'd taken and tagged, using small vials most summoners carried. Usually though crime scene investigations were not our forte. I was just curious.

“No, we're good. You can do what you want, we're just securing the scene till SWAT and CSI get here.”

“I can do what I want?”

“Well, summoners frequently do. Most of them wander off after the excitement is over; not entirely sane, remember?”

Nice, it seems being crazy had it's advantages.

“I suddenly feel the urge to run around screaming... in the direction of that coffee shop we saw on the way in. Any objections?”

I was in awe when he waved me away with shooing motions. The power summoners possessed, just to get out of work. With my team as willing accomplices. This was... crazy. Left unspoken was the trust; they trusted me not to flake out if I sensed another demon, and were giving me a pass.

Or they were testing me. I had a feeling the tests never stopped. Either way, I wasn't going to object. But I was going to stay close.

The coffee shop was closed of course, the people that had been evacuated only now being allowed back in. For some reason, this annoyed me. For some reason, it took actual effort to suppress the annoyance. I wanted to just break in and take the coffee, and leave the money on the table. Entitlement, after a fashion. I might have even done it for one white hot moment, except I realized while I fought the feeling that I had no money. Just my standard debit card.

Was this what all summoners felt? This sense of entitlement? I'd just saved your lives from a demon, you owe me a coffee? It felt right, the emotion... But I knew it wasn't. Oh, in a way it was; I'd been forced into this job by the population at large, and it was their fault for all that had happened to me, whether I never met the vast majority of them or not.

I was destined to die horribly and have my soul sucked from my still new form with some sort of demented straw of the damned, but it wasn't everyone else's fault. It was just fate. Well that and my mom. At least I could tell her what a bitch she was when we burned together.

Even if I became as successful as her in the business, and demons at large hated us both equally, surely they wouldn't pass up that chance to spit in her face by plunking me down right beside her as a constant reminder of who she was, and had been.

And now I was back to fighting that sense of entitlement again. I'd have to speak to someone about it. Karen? She was our psych, but that idea was cringe worthy. Who else could I trust to keep it kind of quiet though? That raised another issue.

The military and police were all of my world now. Somehow it had just happened. I hung out with either the task force, some few hardy regular cops that weren't repulsed by me, or my squad. My father, just a little. He was still angry about what I'd done to mom, and that I wouldn't apologize for it, even though he understood. I had become isolated in the last six months, to a rather frightening degree.

There was little trace of the person I was anymore.

I had done a few discrete checks; most of my friends were out of town at college, or already part of the work force. Precious few of any of our class had stayed here, something I understood. Except for the base, there were no true careers around this area. Aside from the military, there was no future here.

The only ones left were former annoyances. I couldn't even call them enemies, they lacked the hatred and ability to qualify as such. They were beneath me now. Those and people from my peers I'd never really known... also beneath me. I no longer had anything in common with anyone normal anymore.

Even the normal beat cops were a little too world weary to be considered normal; and they wouldn't hang out with a crazy robe wearing white haired girl in any case. Hell, more than a few of them ran. I could almost hear their mental screams sometimes.

How long could I withstand it? The ostracism, the casual hanging out with those (and only with those) who were clearly insane before I cracked completely too? How long had the rest made it? Had they ever been sane at all?

Had I ever been sane at all?

Being sane was a state of mind, which eased the facilitation of certain members of the human race with each other. Looking back on it, there was a very good chance that I had never been sane from the start. Or maybe it was the worlds fault.

Or maybe I was just thinking way too much.

An almost marching cadence of footwear to pavement and a hum that rapidly grew to a dull roar alerted me; there was a veritable throng of people headed my way, chatting at each other without a care. At every business some would break off from the human wave, and enter. There was no sign of a police escort, and yet the mob was orderly and composed. Or as orderly and composed as a mob could get.

These people had just experienced a demon attack, thinning their number. From what I understood, several pharmacists from the corner chain drug store, along with a few patrons. I couldn't see it from here, but I was willing to bet that the place was still cordoned off, the crime scene investigators gathering whatever evidence they could.

I'd also guess the bodies were still being carted off. This casual dismissal of death seemed both brave in it's way and a full on denial of the facts of life. It smacked of complete disrespect in a way. Or maybe it was just me. Could it just be me?

“Um, excuse me?”

I looked up to see the herd passing, a few of it's members standing in front of me. The one who had spoken was a mousey little brown haired thing sporting glasses I couldn't properly see through. She was cute, in that nerdy way young women with glasses can be.

Behind her was an older, tall and gaunt man with sporting a mournful expression and many lines on his face. Behind him was a blond guy with surfer good looks, bouncing on his heels. He seemed very far from his natural home.

All three wore matching uniforms, with their names and the name “The Grind” on them. The brunette was Patricia, the lurch wannabe was Abe, and the beach bum was Darren. Patricia was the one standing in front of me, mouth open, and key in hand. I realized belatedly I was leaning against the door. The door to the coffee shop she wanted to open. I stepped aside in a hurry.

“I'm sorry.”

She seemed startled. Was it that odd to apologize for standing in the way of someone trying to work? Were people in this town that rude? Or was it just summoners? Or was it just the reputation of summoners? It could also be the fact that a rogue summoner had just killed a few people, but the licensed ones shouldn't be tarnished due to that, should it? I mean after all, I'd just stopped the demon. I'd done it quickly professionally (at least as far as anyone knew).

Patricia unlocked the door and hurried inside, followed by Abe and after a short delay Darren; Mr. California living was trying to check me out through the robes and hood while standing in the doorway. He finally gave it up just slightly after it was obvious and hurried inside himself.

Patricia was already behind the counter and clicking buttons on the register; Abe was just crossing the divider and the beach bum almost blocked my view of the establishment... and the establishment's view of me. But Patricia looked up and spotted me. And then she gave another start, more violent than the one outside.

“I'd like a caramel machiato, please.”

She actually stuttered while Abe started one of the machines. Darren started wiping down tables, trying to pierce the veil (or robe) again.

“R-r-right, coming right up!”

They took their time, working in silence. Patricia fumbled more than once while ringing me up, but Abe was rock solid behind the machines. Soon enough the drink was served up, and it was... heaven. Pure heaven in a coffee cup. Well worth the tip I'd just signed off on. Literally the best I'd had.

“Thank you Abe, that was the best caramel machiato I've ever had.”

My thanks seemed to stiffen up Patricia's spine.

“Um, excuse me... are you the summoner that stopped the demon?”

I nodded.

“yes I am.”

I prepared to hear the worst, or just to be dismissed. Patricia had a pleasant suprise for me.

“Um, thank you. For stopping it, I mean.”

“Sure, just doing my job.”

I waved, and was almost grinning when Darren ruined it, sort of.

“Damn, she's hot!”

Apparently he'd finally been able to catch that elusive glimpse. He was brave in his own way; most people wouldn't try. I couldn't be happy I had just been complimented... could I? Should I? Damn it. Another blow to the person I was, while the person I am was happy I was attractive enough to turn heads.

I knew I wouldn't be happy until I had adjusted, and I knew all the time training had hindered that process, but this was getting awkward. No more second guessing; it wasn't healthy. My early new years resolution.

My phone chirped.

“Yes?”

“It's Pearce. Where are you, Snow?”

“In front of the coffee shop down the street from the garage, near the corner of Piedmont.”

“Right, stay there, our ride is picking you up.”

“Understood.”

I didn't have to wait long, even with the resumption of traffic and it's snarls, very few people stayed in front of an ADTF transport. Traffic on my side flowed away from the garage, but that was no problem fro Judge. He just stopped in the middle of the road. Not a single car horn sounded. I stepped out into traffic and again, nothing.

I looked carefully both ways, and walked nonchalantly across the street, past the stopped cars. Normally I'd have insisted he just swing by, get the team, and get me on the way back when it wouldn't break the law. But he was already here and stopped, and already causing the disruption. Best to minimize it. Even the cars in the lane nearest me wouldn't move until I was safely out of sight.

Judge was going to hear it though. Stepping to the back, I found that Cords was there with a hand, which I took... mostly because mounting little steps in robes could be time consuming and balance challenging. Stepping on the hem of a robe sucked, it wouldn't tear or give... which meant you could end up on your butt.

“What the heck, Judge? You couldn't just get the team first and swing around? Pretty sure that what you just did was illegal.”

“Following orders Snow, and I quote: 'go get little Snow first; she's all grown up now, but it's still a dangerous world out there.' Not sure why you were a priority myself, but I do my job. I don't like the idea of being homeless in the desert.”

I scoffed at that idea. I was pretty sure Sarah would never let him stay on the streets. Of course, I wasn't sure he knew that, but the torch carried was probably big enough to light up an opera hall or a theater.

“Whatever. I'll just bug Pearce.”

“No no, Snow, those orders didn't come from Pearce. They came from the Captain.”

“The captain is here? I thought this was just a squad operation?”

Cords interrupted.

“No he's not here, but he was monitoring the chatter. He called me, I called Pearce, Pearce called you and then Judge.”

Wow, that seemed... terribly inefficient.

“That seems like a huge waste of time.”

Judge felt obligated to answer the question laced into my tone.

“Proper channels, Snow. Still a rookie I see. Got to go through proper channels because it could be a demon mimicking our voice on the walkie or the phone. If I call you directly, and say the captain told me to pick you up, then you should be cautious. Pearce is your boss in the field. No one else.”

Cords interrupted again.

“And when you get enough experience, Pearce won't be your boss anymore, you'll be making decisions alongside him. Then you'll answer only to the Captain.”

I shook my head.

“Well that day is a long way off.”

“Just don't get impatient, you'll get there. You have the talent. After all, the demon today didn't even lay a finger on you, did he?”

Was he trying to butter me up for tonight or something? It was kind of sweet, in a way, praising my skills as a demon touched 'killer'. I was happy no one other than Grex and myself knew the truth; I wasn't sure it mattered how I did the job, but letting a demon go back to it's realm after it had killed a dozen or so people likely wouldn't sit well with the brass.

Even if I had made sure it couldn't come back unless summoned by one of us.

The chain of command tidbit rang true in a way; while it wasn't official, only the stupidest of ADTF members ignored the advice or orders of their summoner on scene. The only reason I was taking orders at all in fact was because of my rookie status.

I didn't want to discuss it anymore; we were at the entrance to the parking garage, and my team was waiting. Cords was monitoring comms again, so I opened the door for them, and they piled in. I had to ask the million dollar question.

“Well, anything unusual?”

Head shakes all around. Pearce clarified.

“Nah, standard stuff. Just had to wait for the crime scene people before we could scrub the place. Clean up was pretty easy for a standard site, the concrete patched fine and the blessings were quick. Father Arnold does good work.”

Father Arnold was our foremost resident catholic priests; he knew all the rituals to stave off possession and demonic attack, as well as the proper rituals to cleanse sites of demonic influence after we had done our job. Did it work? No. But it did help the populace feel better about going back into places that used to be frequented by demons.

At least Father Arnold and a few others we called we actual accredited priests. There were actually scammers out there that just recited mumbo jumbo and collected a fee. People truly were amazing sometimes. The fact that we even had to call priests in after taking care of a demon, even though they were powerless to stop demons, spoke volumes about faith and delusion.

“You alright Snow?”

Pearce, breaking me from my musing.

“Yes, I'm fine. Just heavy thoughts, you know?”

“Yeah I do. Your first demon is always the worst. It's one thing to train for it, it's another to have the demon right in front of you and know that this time isn't an exercise. Off the record you did well though, the demon didn't even touch you. If you don't mind my asking, what exactly were you thinking of?”

I knew a trap when I saw it, but I'd have to be blind to miss this one.

“Just how if Father Arnold could do his job properly, we wouldn't have to.”

Sarah and Pearce both winced. There were no atheists in foxholes.

“Sorry.”

He waved me off.

“No need to apologize; you're right. It's a placebo for the masses. I think God is out there, he just doesn't like us very much at the moment.”

“Moot point either way; if he's not going to help, we need to help ourselves.”

And Sarah had just encapsulated the entire summoner creed in a sentence. I'd been fed that line for months, well years. Perhaps even my entire life. I even believed it.

“So, any other thoughts? How did you take care of the demon, anyway?”

Urk.

“Time dilated it, then banished it.”

I could all but see the disapproval in the air like a hatred heat haze as that question crackled in the air.

“Not killed?”

“I wasn't sure I could hold it in place long enough to destroy it, and banishment seemed a more secure option than just hitting it while it tore apart the summoner. It was after all, what I'd trained for. I wanted to save him and see where he got the information he used. Some of it looks like what we use.”

Glad I didn't tell him how it really happened. He'd likely be even more pissed.

“Whatever; not like it matters, the hordes of Hell are far more numerous than we are anyway. It's just the unofficial stance of this department that demons be destroyed whenever it's feasible. Something to remember for next time; just don't risk yourself or the team for it.”

“Duly noted.”

The rest of the drive was finished in silence, though not a heavy or angry one. Instead it was more a sense of contentment, of a job well done. For that I was grateful. In truth there wasn't a department or military squad that didn't have that unwritten rule. Whittling down the numbers of your enemies was always a sound and prudent policy.

I just hadn't wanted to kill. I'd have to get over that, as well as make sure no one ever found out about my momentary lapse. I wasn't too sure what the fallout would be if someone learned it, but I knew it wouldn't be good for me.

I looked up as we drove inside the police parking garage. I really needed to stop zoning off; even here, surrounded by my team, I wasn't truly safe. No summoner was. Pearce, already up, opened the door and jumped out.

“Alright, home again home again, deedely do.”

Well that was odd. Especially from Pearce.

“Alright Snow, now the fun begins. The after action report and briefing.”

I groaned, That report was 4 pages long! There was even a spot on it that asked what you had for lunch that day! Why did the brass even need to know that? At least it was all computerized. I'd really hate to have to type such a thing by typewriter or write it by hand.

I'd have to ask my dad. Whenever we started talking again, that is. He wasn't exactly a fan of mine for how I left mom that day. Or for my continued refusal to speak to her.

Once on our floor, I made a beeline for my desk and went right to it, firing up that 10 year old dinosaur they saddled me with. The form was on the desktop, placed and titled prominently so that even a complete computer illiterate could find it.

“Hey Snow, how'd it go?”

Charlie, the other summoner on shift. He would have been on standby. He showed no evidence of being annoyed at having sat in a hot transport only to turn around and come back, like I would have.

“Imp, a strong one with flight and claws. Tricked some poor shmuck into summoning it somehow. Can't talk, typing.”

There was something he saw in my eyes he didn't like.

“Ummm, right. I'll leave you to it and ask later.”

“Thanks.”

The report only took a good twenty minutes. Most of that was trying to describe the scene in the parking garage. I mean I couldn't just say 'heartbreaking' and leave it at that, could I? I couldn't say heartbreaking at all in fact, so I settled on a description of the surroundings.

I also had to make up the fight I'd lied about; I said the summoner had discovered he had been duped, and attacked the demon out of spite, and the demon had been able to retaliate. A side effect of being improperly bound. All bunk of course, but they couldn't disprove it. I hoped. I recognized the circle used, and it was a pretty lax one, easily used for all kinds of summons and full of all kinds of loopholes when improperly etched.

Freshly copied report in hand, I went in search of the boss. I found him talking to the chief. Of course I couldn't walk in on that, so I waited. I did not have to wait long; he strode from the room in his usual larger than life manner some five minutes later.

“Captain.”

“Yes, Snow?”

I help up my report.

“Right, that goes to me. You could leave it on my desk next time.”

“What about the after action briefing?”

“Postponed pending our investigation. The prisoner is catatonic, and the evidence recovered is kind of suspect, so we're still sorting that out.”

Uh oh.

“You didn't notice anything unusual, did you?”

“No sir. At least, I don't think so.”

He muttered, shaking his head.

“Of course not, this was your first demon after all, you wouldn't have a frame of reference for such things.”

He muttered a bit more that I didn't catch before speaking up again.

“Alright, make more copies of your report and circulate it through the office. One per desk; we need to make sure everyone gets the word on what happened.”

I all but saluted from his tone alone.

“Yes, sir. The others too?”

It might help to have the other points of view. He bobbed his head before striding off. A bit abrupt of him.

I returned and made my copies. Distributing them, I saved Cords's for last. I knew I'd be seeing him tonight, and I really wanted to be a bundle of nerves about that, but I needed a place to relax now, someplace with a friendlier than just work acquaintance face, and his office would do in a pinch. At least wondering what had raised the Captain's suspicions made me view the date with more perspective.

Ugh, wait a minute. I'm going about this all wrong. Time to find the Captain, again.

I found him this time getting a coke from the machine a floor down.

“Captain.”

“Yes?”

“You said something was unusual about the call today; I've tried but I can't place what's wrong. At the risk of sounding stupid, what did I miss?”

“Come this way.”

He led me into a nice handy out of the way alcove in the hall.

“I know what you're thinking. No one here is questioning your performance. The demon is gone, the civilian summoner was caught, lives were saved. You did good, and are not in any kind of trouble. You didn't miss anything, you simply don't have enough experience yet. The fact is the circle used is an old one. Very old, but you see them all the time... at the front.”

I pondered that.

“Which front?”

“Eastern.”

So, Nazi, and not Russian. What was an old Nazi summoning circle doing here?

“Yeah, you see the problem now. Furthermore, it fell out of use because it was Swiss cheese, as circles go.”

“I thought it looked familiar, but couldn't place it. So it was one we used at one time, but fell out of favor?”

“Possibly, more your field than mine. But you see that exact circle scrawled all over the remains of the Germany, if you can make it that far.”

Wait, that was odd.

“Down to the line?”

“Yep, exactly, you're getting it now. Makes the living dead man you brought in even more important than he otherwise would be.”

He slapped me a comrade like slap on the back which had me windmilling for balance.
“You do good work Snow, don't stress so much... you'll turn your hair white.”

He set off on his next destination with a wave. Grinning bastard. Oh well, it was infectious. I'd been too paranoid, perhaps. For some reason thinking everyone was out to persecute me in various ways, over my choices or set me up for my mistakes.

Or maybe it wasn't really paranoia. Maybe they were out to get me.

Why did I feel that way? Like a soldier behind enemy lines? The feeling had only been getting worse lately, and as far as I could tell, there was no call for it. Summoners were in fact, subject to some forms of betrayal (or at least I considered them betrayal) but it seemed to early for the powers that be to decide I was a danger to humankind, or something similar.

That was a bridge I could only cross once I actually came to it. The feeling of hidden depths, and monstrous undercurrents was another impression that was only getting stronger. Politics was a shark infested ocean, and I was a mere guppy here. The more immediate fears I had were eased however, so it was time to return to my earlier mission; delivering my report to everyone.

It was time to hand this silly report to Cords and then veg in his office to some silly show.

I arrived and immediately knew something was wrong. The lights did not work; only a single candle illuminated the darkness. That candle was on top of a cupcake; chocolate with strawberry icing unless I missed my guess. “Whose line is it anyway” was showing on Cords's main computer screen, and he was nowhere to be found.

I took the hint however and sat, placing my report in his much abused paperwork inbox. Honestly it looked like there were reports from a year ago in there. At least it wasn't as bad as his outbox.

I'd just settled in and began to laugh crazily – the props section always got me – when the door opened. A hand holding a large Mountain Dew snaked it's way past my head, and set it's cargo down next to the cupcake.

“Sorry, you're a bit early, and I got caught talking about comm protocols with some of the 911 responders. Seems one of them has some ideas on how to make our panic button system faster.”

“No problem;' I pointed a the cupcake. 'What's the occasion?”

“Coming back alive from a demon hunt. That and cupcakes always go better with this show. If it was Top Gear, I'd have pretzels.”

Um... OK, Whatever. He saw my look.

“I'm just kidding. I just felt you'd need it. If you don't want it, it's fine.”

“No, I do, was just a bit curious is all.”

The cupcake was good mix of flavors, and with the candle stuck in it blown out, we were mostly in the dark. I didn't mind, my eyes could see in it just fine. I don't think Cords minded either; the way he stared at the screen with fixed determination was kind of endearing.

Before I knew it, our shift was over. Kind of ironic that with my power over time, time had somehow gotten away from me. I don't think I'd ever get over the irony of that one, no matter how many times it happened. Cords shut down the computer he used to entertain us. I knew he didn't like the next shift guy (a guy with the nickname Cable, oddly enough) messing with it so he pulled the power supply out of it. Every night. And like most nights, I watched him do it this time.

“So um, how do you want to do this?”

I considered for a moment.

“Well the tickets are for the private viewing for 7 tonight, right?”

He nodded.

“Isn't the guy supposed to pick the girl up?”

“Yeah, he is, but could we skip that part? To be honest, where you live kind of makes me nervous.”

Darn.

“Yes we can; where do you want to meet up? The museum?”

“Let's try meeting up here, then I'll drive you to the museum, and drive you back here.”

That seemed convoluted and wasteful as heck, but whatever.

“Sure, that's fine. See you around 6:30 then?”

Why did he look so nervous? Hadn't we been hanging out for months?

“I'll be here.”

I finished off the drink and walked out, throwing the can away with practiced aim on my way out the door. I wasn't going to leave a mess around.

Of course I'd gotten no farther than my car before Karen caught up.

“Get in, Get in, I'll meet you at your place, we need to hurry!”

And before I could respond to that she was gone. Seriously, I was beginning to think she had time warping powers of her own. She was that fast; like a chipmunk on speed. I wondered what her issue was; did she want to discuss the demon attack, or something else? What was the rush?

The drive home was therapeutic; traffic was terrible of course, but people had long since started recognizing the car. No one really wanted to get in the way of Snow White. I wasn't nearly as recognizable, but having the car linked to any summoner meant I could park it in the worst neighborhood in town with the keys in it, and it's still be there when I got back. It also meant my back bumper stayed clear of other vehicles seeking to merge with it.

Of course, Karen was at my door, hopping from foot to foot like... well a demented chipmunk on speed. I needed to come up with some new material; even my own head was getting bored with my lines.

“What are you doing?!? Come on, we need to hurry, if we don't you'll be late!”

Wait, was this about the date?

Karen had evidently lost patience at one point; she already had my lock picked. I knew this because she dragged me through my own door while I was fumbling with my keys.

“Come on, we need to get you cleaned up first, we don't have much time.”

“Karen, stop pulling already! What's the rush, I have an hour.”

“You spent all day running around in a dirty parking garage in sweaty robes fighting demons. Now strip and get showered while I pick something out.”

She switched from pulling to shoving. I still couldn't understand how someone smaller than me could be stronger. Maybe I just didn't have enough rage.

“That's a gross exaggeration, and you know it.”

“Go get clean.”

I had my own bathroom door slammed in my face.

With a shrug I did as ordered, trying not to think of how Karen was even now going through my closets, no doubt trying to find the most embarrassing thing she could to wrap me in.

It seemed like no sooner than I stepped into the shower, than whirlwind Karen was through the door yelling at me to get out. The door I was sure I locked before I got in. Glad I wasn't really dirty.

“Come on, hurry up! We need to get your hair dried, make up done, and dressed in 40 minutes! Sigh, never enough time.”

She started dragging me again, snagging some towels on the way out. At least she let me wrap a towel around myself. She didn't let go until I was safely plunked down in one of my kitchen chairs, a large mirror I didn't possess in front of me. She handed me a hair dryer, and then picked one up herself.

Two hair dryers.

That was all I saw for a bit; Karen was trying to strangle me with the towels she grabbed. Either that, or trying to give me the biggest towel noogie she could. It really could go either way.

It seemed to take forever before she was satisfied, and let up. My glare didn't seem to phase her at all. I obviously needed more practice. I tried to grab my brush, and she smacked my hand.

“I think the simple approach is best here. We'll go for a nice loose cascading waterfall effect. Shouldn't need much. Trying to put all that up or braid it would just take too long.”

What? Cascading waterfall? All she was doing was brushing it out. The same thing I did everyday. Only she was counting brush strokes. I thanked whatever powers that were responsible (probably Grex) that my hair was hard to tangle; at the rate she was going a tangle would yank my scalp off.

Then out came the make up; I had hidden the large kit well in the back of my closet under my shoes, but Karen had found the thing.

“Shouldn't I get dressed first?”

She gave me her best 'are you stupid?' look.

“And chance getting make up all over your dress? I think not.”

Wait a minute, dress?

“What dress?”

“The LBD we got you months ago; this is a black tie affair. We don't get many of those here, I'm kind of jealous. A mecca for arts and learning we are not. Cords probably had to pull a string or two among what passes for the cities' rich and obnoxious.”

“Oh? Cords is connected?”

“No, not that I'm aware of. But how else would he get tickets?”

Sigh.

“Pay for them?”

She actually stopped for a moment, shocked.

“But those tickets are like a whole twenty bucks! It says “invitation only” right on the invitations! The mayor will be there!”

I rolled my eyes as hard as I could. She didn't notice, but started pulling out the crap I almost never used.

“You know I hate you right? You don't even really need concealer or foundation.”

That said she proceeded to apply it anyway.

“You know I can do this, right?”

I received another 'don't be stupid' look for my trouble.

“Keep your hands away from your face, and the makeup.”

She started playing with highlighter and a contouring brush. I couldn't see how it looked exactly, she was blocking the mirror.

“Hmm, I think blush might be a bad idea, you're too vampire like. It'll be noticeable.”

Was she kidding?

“All of this will; it feels like you shoved my face in mud or something.”

She gave me a dirty look, then pointedly applied some blush. When she pulled out the eye shadow and liner, I decided being still and thinking nothing would be a good idea. At least, as rushed as she was, she took great care moving that pencil around my eyes.

A quick touch of the mascara brush and I was done. Without a word, Karen finally moved out of the way.

I'd been expecting a dark brown face with visible powder, and a black goth eye job. Perhaps a raccoon look. What I saw was my face, perhaps just a shade darker, but with my eyes popping from it. My cheekbones showed their edge, and my cupid's bow looked different somehow. Karen broke my vision again before I could decide whether I liked the effect or not, this time to apply a dark glossy lipstick.

“I wish we could do something about your earrings. A good trade out to something different might do you a world of good.”

“I'm not risking it; are we done?”

She grabbed my hands, then my feet.

“Hmm, looks like the nail polish is holding up. Yeah we're done. Time for the dress. Oh and, use the lingerie I set out. Go! Shoo, shoo.”

The nerve, to make shooing motions at me, as if she weren't the one wasting all my time.

The lingerie was the small slinky sheer black stuff with lace. The dress was black, little, and would barely hide the bra. At least lengthwise it would be to mid thigh, so I could sit down without flashing people. If I was careful. The fishnet tights were also sheer. I knew when she picked this out months ago I would eventually get blackmailed or bullied into wearing it. I had just been hoping to be a nice flabby 80 at the time.

I was likely to turn heads worse than my mom in this.

“Come on, get out here, there's no more time!”

The door was all but kicked in, and Karen was well inside my personal space, staring at me.

“Good, you didn't smudge anything. Now let's go, shoes and purse are by the door, get out, you've less than 20 minutes to make it!”

I swear, she spritzed the air with perfume as I went by; I didn't recognize it, but it was a light airy sort of spicy scent that nonetheless clung to me... She would definitely pay for that.

Less than 20 minutes to make a thirty minute drive. This would not end well. Time to cheat, perhaps. The shoes were those stupid three inch heels I had had to practice walking in for hours to make sure I didn't break a leg in them. The purse was a small black one inset with sequins that matched the whole thing. So tonight I was half knockout, half mortician. I still didn't understand the point of putting fragile (and easily ripped off) lines of cheap sequins on a small cloth purse. Perhaps it was to charge more? This thing hadn't been cheap.

I wasn't about to kill myself trying to run in heels, and I was sure Karen would know somehow if I ran in my tights and got them dirty... so it was cheat time.

A little focus, a little drawn will, and as soon as I was out of the apartment (shoes on, and checking to make sure the stuff I needed was in the purse) I dilated time. With time slowed to a mere fraction of what it normally was, I was free to walk carefully down the stairs and to my car. It took 3 seconds.

Now came the tricky part. I couldn't just walk to the cop shop, it was too far away even with time dilated. My car however, was awfully big. Could I even manage this?

Placing my had on the door, it was actually rather easy to extend my own immunity to the dilation field I was generating to the car. I barely broke a metaphorical sweat. Holding the concentration required while driving would be interesting however.

I decided to take the less traveled roads. A mostly immobile set of two cars side by side would ruin the plan after all, and I had time.

It worked; I could weave my car in and out of traffic, blow stop lights, and drive on the wrong side of the road with no consequences. It would take one of those special cameras to even catch on that something was there. If caught I'd admit to it of course; no one told me I couldn't do this. It may be common sense, but today already illustrated that summoners had wiggle room (perhaps too much) to play fast and loose with such things.

The entire drive took seven minutes. By the time I pulled up to the police garage, I was beginning to feel the burn of keeping my dilation field up. The slight headache just beginning to form was a warning of overuse. Still, I had to be careful about this.

I released the field slowly to make sure I wasn't slammed into by a driver/fellow cop not seeing me sort of appear and slamming into me. The slow dial up proved my fears groundless however, though the blue guarding the gate did a pretty comical double take when he looked up to see my car.

I flashed him my badge and put a finger in front of my lips, not quite touching. Then I hit the door signal to the arm (under my steering wheel, looking like a normal garage door opener), and drove by as he gaped. The rear view mirror saw him studiously go back to his reading material, some magazine or another that I wasn't sure I wanted to recognize.

And my assigned parking space was empty, something that wasn't always the case. Charlie liked taking it cause it was closer to the door than his; I didn't normally mind since I never came here after my shift unless dragged kicking and screaming (in fact, this was the first time) but tonight it was clear.

I had a sneaking suspicion the cop gossipy grape vine had struck again. But whatever, I'll deal with it tomorrow. I decided I'd just wait here, in my car. I could walk back out and stand on the street to make it easy for Cords, but that felt a little too much as if I were going to display myself to the world. An idea I wasn't keen on.

I wasn't left waiting long, thankfully. Jut the very moment I found a good song on the radio, lights were flashed into my eyes. I got out to find Cords just stepping out of his Ford focus. The idea that he was a gear head and liked that car amused me.

Then he stepped into his own headlights and I got a good look at him.

He was in a tuxedo, an honest to God white tuxedo with a crimson cummerbund and handkerchief folded neatly in the jacket for color. His hair was even better kept than this morning, and his shoes were so shiny I could see myself.

He cleaned up really nice.

Of course I realized while I had been checking him like a side of beef at the market, he's been doing the same when I came out of it and realized we hadn't spoken for a good thirty seconds. He flushed and spoke first.

“Wow... just, wow. You look amazing. More than amazing.”

I said what I thought as well; at least I was a bit more coherent about it. My, this garage was hot this time of year.

“You clean up well yourself.”

“So... been waiting long?”

“No, not at all. Just parked and settled in when you pulled up.”

He approached and butterflies started multiplying in my stomach. He held his hand out in a chivalrous gesture and while I probably should have been mad, I wasn't.

“Well, shall we go?”

“Yes, let's. It wouldn't do to be late.”