The Courier

He didn't say anything, but it looked like he was glad she did. For all the voices Alex had in his head and his overall misanthrope tendencies, he was not a solitary creature. As long she was there, they were an unbeatable team.

Even if it meant cutting back and living a life on the run.

Alex walked into the room, glancing around before he settled his eyes on her.

"What are you thinking about?"

Dana smiled wistfully. "Our life", she said, "And the weird-ass turns it had taken."

Alex frowned. "I could ask-"

She waved him off. "Nah. Not this again. I know Jim's going to be glad if I wanted to live with him and help him with Maya, but I don't want to intrude into their family. Plus- you need me more than he does."

Alex tilted his head. "I can deal with my stuff on my own", he pointed out.

Dana smiled at him. "And we both know you would just end up murdering the first person you disagree with. Let's face it- without me you'd be fighting everybody and Blackwatch would be on your trail faster than I could say 'Told you so'."

"Would not", Alex replied.

"Would too", Dana answered.

"Would not."

"Would too."

Alex held her gaze for a moment before he huffed out. "Fine. Be that way."

"I knew you would see things my way", Dana grinned.

Alex stepped to stand next to her, but in a way he could not possibly be seen from outside the window. Dana looked outside. "I guess this place is pretty okay", she explained. "Not too expensive, and the city's nice."

"If you stay away from the slums", Alex added gruffly. "That place isn't secure."

She shrugged. "It's a big city. Ten million people. You know how humans are- there are always fucktards around."

A sinister smile was on Alex's face. "I know", he said, "More than enough to blend in with the crowd and vanish. More than enough scum."

To eat, but he didn't say that. Dana knew it, but it still felt wrong, even if they deserved it. Alex tried to work subtle, though. He never left any trace of them, and he took care to take their money for them too. As long neither of them would be investigated too closely, nobody would be suspicious. And maybe they could slow down slightly.

She glanced at him. "Do you think we can stay here a while longer than just a few weeks?"

He frowned again. "I think", he said, "Blackwatch's still looking for me, but last Cross told me was that they're looking in the wrong direction." He sighed. "As long we don't fuck it up, I think we can stay a bit longer before they become suspicious."

"And you know what that means", Dana reminded him sternly.

Alex huffed out. "I know. No wallrunning during the day, trying to land as softly as possible, no over-the-top violence...This takes all the fun." He glanced at his sister. "You know, I would have more fun if we went into some other country, like some South American one. Brazil's supposed to be nice. Or Mexico."

Dana made a face. "Alex, I already told you, I can not survive in a place like that. There are fucks everywhere, and even with my self-defense classes I can't stand against an entire gang and you can't be around me 24/7." She nodded to the city outside. "Here I just have to be careful about going into the really dark places, as long I stay in the bright areas, nothing will happen."

Alex frowned at her. Dana shrugged. "Don't look at me like that- denial is my best friend after Manhattan."

"I'm not sure that's healthy", he mumbled. His sister cut him off. "The whole world isn't healthy, Alex. We can just roll with it."

"Maybe", he agreed, "But sometimes we have to do something about it."

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

The sun was shining through the single window of the bedroom. It wasn't a very large room, though. A single bed took over most of the wall beneath the window, a small night table that had been scavenged in some yard sale was next to the head end of the bed, and a plywood wardrobe that had seen better days was placed against the wall next to the entrance. An ugly carpet was on the floor, covering the even uglier floorboards with its shabby appearance.

The single occupant of the room was already awake. Had been for several minutes by now, hadn't moved, though. He blinked at the pale light, then slowly moved his gaze to the battered radio clock sitting on the nightstand.

Satisfied that he wasn't too late, he sat up and stretched his body with a hearty yawn, before he slipped out of bed and padded out of his room towards the kitchen.

After throwing a glance into the fridge, he decided that eggs and bacon were okay for breakfast. His girlfriend was always on his case that his particular choice of breakfast was too greasy, but he was leading an active lifestyle so he did require a lot of energy. Plus, eggs and bacon were about the only food he could prepare without setting the kitchen on fire.

He usually ate alone, not because he lived alone, but rather because his roommate wouldn't crawl out of bed until noon. Still, after he dropped his dish into the sink, he went to his roommate's room and peeked through the door. "Yo", he called out, waiting for the grunt of acknowledgment. "I'm going out, Zek. Food's in the kitchen."

"Mrgh", the other muttered. He turned around and hugged his pillow closer. The other pulled back with a snicker and went to the bathroom to wash up and brush his teeth.

A quarter of an hour later, he left the apartment building, pushing his bike out of the basement. Empire City was lively, but in the early morning hours, most people were still asleep. He liked this time, mostly because that also meant that there were less idiot car drivers to run him over. After that one meeting with a freight truck, he was more careful about things like that.

He pushed off and pedaled down the street quickly. From their apartment, he headed north, then slightly west to get to the Fremont Bridge. It was a cool morning this late spring day, but it didn't bother him very much. His trademark yellow and black jacket would keep him warm.

He drove over the large Fremont Bridge, silently thanking whoever was up there that there weren't any trucks around at the moment, before he turned slightly and rode past a large parking garage to pass by the tall Stanton Building.

The Historic District wasn't a very expensive area, but it was too much for him or Zeke to pay for an apartment there, since both were College dropouts and scraped by with odd jobs (Zeke) or a simple courier job (like his). He didn't complain though, this was what he's chosen for himself.

And he was damn proud of himself too.

His girlfriend had supported him on his entire way, told him that it didn't matter how much he made because he was all that was important. His own folks had been less supportive, and he knew that his parents both did not want to believe the truth. Well, tough. That wasn't his problem and this wasn't their life. If they didn't like it, then they could screw right off.

He turned his bike to head into a small apartment area. He knew the way by heart, since he would head here nearly every day.

His wheels screeched when he stopped in front of a ten-story complex, and he hopped off. He locked his bike, then went to ring at the doorbell.

"Yeah?" A sleepy female voice asked after a moment over the intercom.

"You should know by now who I am", he replied.

The voice scoffed, then the speaker's tone changed. He knew that she would turn around. "It's your boyfriend!"

The intercom was shut off and he simply waited outside. It didn't take very long for the door to open, revealing a slim brunette with short hair and a wide smile on her face. She wasted no time latching on him and pressing a kiss on his lips. "Good morning, Cole."

"Mhm. It's always good when you are around, Trish", he replied with a grin.

"Egh!" The first speaker groaned. "Can't you guys trade spit somewhere else?"

Trish glanced back and glared at the younger woman. "You are just envious that I got a hot piece of ass and you don't, Amy."

Amy threw her arms up. "Yeah. God damnit, everybody else in this blasted city is either taken, an idiot or-" She shuddered, "Dunbar."

"I hear you", Trish lamented. "But don't speak ill of my boyfriend's best friend."

"Nah", Cole threw in. "You can speak ill of him as much as you want, Amy."

"Niceness will not change the fact that I loathe you for taking my sister away from me", Amy gave back. "But I can't do something against it- you guys stay together even after Monopoly, and that means something." She huffed. "Get her back by nine- she still has a job to do, unlike you, MacGrath."

Trish rolled her eyes. "Amy. You know he's a hard working member of society. Also, we are just going to jog around the block. Not going on a wild tour."

"Bike Courier isn't a real job", Amy sing-sang and vanished back into their apartment on the second floor, before any of them could reprimand her.

Despite her harsh words, Cole didn't rise to the bait. He turned his attention to Trish instead. "Ready?"

"Yup"

They moved to the sidewalk before they set into motion. For a few months now, they would jog together before they had to get to their respective jobs, no matter the weather. Cole was the better runner, but Trish was determined to keep up with him. As long he didn't start climbing buildings or surf on top of trains, it was easy enough.

"I heard you have a free day soon?" Trish asked after the first mile, slightly out of breath.

"Yeah. My boss allowed me to take a few days off." Cole wasn't even winded.

"Anything special planned?" She asked with a wink.

He shrugged, a motion that melted seamlessly into the movement of his upper body as they moved along. "Hanging with Zek", he said, "Or maybe I'm going sit on your doorsteps, wait for you to get back home and give Amy cash to go to the movies, so I can have you all to myself."

Trish chuckled and swatted his shoulder. "Aren't you a charmer?"

"I'm always on my best behavior around you."

"You aren't. You snore."

"I don't"

"You do."

"...Ah, damn. Then Zeke was right. Now I owe him five bucks."

"You know, I could also be lying and this could be a pre-arranged act between him and me to get you to pay him five dollars."

"You wouldn't dare."

"You know nothing about me, MacGrath."

He looked slightly offended. "Four years, Trish, and yet I still don't know everything about you?"

She grinned at him. "I have to keep some secrets."

Cole snorted amused, but didn't answer. When jogging, it was better to preserve breath anyways.

They reached a small park area (really, it was more of an unkempt ex-garden) until something stopped their trek abruptly- It was a yellow object, that hit Cole's head at high velocity. Cole flinched back with a swear, but caught whatever just attacked him.

He and Trish both blinked in confusion at the object.

"Is that...a tennis ball?" Trish asked.

"It is", Cole replied, frowning. It was slightly battered already. "Uh...where did it come from?"

Trish was about to answer, when a thunderclap shook the air around them. They both jerked back startled, realizing a second later that it wasn't thunder, but rather a dog bark. From a dog. That just shot towards them.

Going thirty miles per hour.

"Holy!" Cole managed to gasp before the dog collided with him, sending him sprawling against the floor.

It was a pretty large dog, nearly the size of a small bear, with pitch-black fur. Cole wheezed, trying to push it away so he could get back up, but the dog seemingly decided that the guy who stole its ball wasn't allowed to stand up.

"Cole! Is everything all-" Trish cut herself off with a surprised noise. Then her voice pitched. "Commander! Where are you coming from?!"

The dog, recognizing her, stopped trying to get to its tennis ball and turned its attention to her with a friendly woof, tail wagging. Trish chuckled and scratched the dog's massive head, while tugging at its collar. "Heyyyy, haven't seen you in a while", she cooed, "I know you're a good boy, but what about getting off my boyfriend?"

The dog complied, easily stepping away from Cole before it sat on its haunches and eyed her. Even sitting, it was a damn huge thing.

Cole sputtered. "You know this monster?"

"Yup", Trish grinned, "Amy and I sometimes get to dog-sit him. He's a nice enough guy." She frowned. "Where's your mistress, hm?"

The dog barked once, moments before a disheveled, blonde young woman wrestled her way through the shrubbery with a muffled explicit under her breath. Cole was just dusting himself off when she noticed the three of them and jogged towards them. "Fuck", she exclaimed, "I'm sorry. I didn't look where I was throwing that thing and I'm kinda lethal with throwing..."

Trish waved her off. "Nah. Don't sweat it. Cole's tougher than he looks and Commander didn't harm him."

"Can I complain, though?" Cole piped up. "I have just been mowed down by a bear in a dog disguise!" He glared at the owner. "So you owe me."

She held his glare with a sharp look of her own, before Cole grinned and patted his would-be assaulter. "Just joking. I mean, it's a dog and accidents happen, right?"

The other woman relaxed slightly. "Yeah. Sorry about it- but I was kinda afraid you'd kick me out of this place here too." She snorted. "Got booted from the park because a lot of cranky old ladies complained about Commander. Were afraid he'd eat the kids or something."

Trish frowned. "Him? He's the nicest dog around. Way nicer than those little yipping mutts at any rate."

"See? I tried to tell them too. Besides, he doesn't eat kids. He eats kibble, squirrels, shoes, drug dealers and burglars."

Cole frowned. "Trish? Would you maybe introduce us? Because I'm kinda missing the whole picture."

Trish blinked. "Oh. Of course." She pointed to the blonde woman. "That's Christine. She mans the front desk at Bayview for the night, so we always meet each other when I have the night shift."

"I'm more of a glorified secretary at the moment", Christine explained with a shrug. "But hey- whatever earns me money." She eyed Cole. "So this is the boyfriend you've been talking about?"

"Yup" Trish grinned. "Don't think about trying to woo him though- he's mine."

"Don't worry. Commander would probably throw a fit if I meet with other people. He's very protective", Christine chuckled, petting her hell hound.

Cole frowned. "Uhm- asides from the whole question why the hell you have such a beast of dog- why is his name 'Commander'?"

Christine shrugged. "He's part shepherd."

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

It was night. There was no moon and the stars were covered by clouds. Not that they would have been visible otherwise- this city rarely sleeps and the perpetual light swallowed up whatever natural illumination was there.

Alex Mercer was crouched on the tallest building, watching the bustling life below. This place was so different from Manhattan- and yet exactly the same. It didn't look like there were many possibilities to make cities different from each other, he assumed, so in the end all the large cities looked similar.

Tall buildings (though not as tall as in Manhattan), public places, parks, cars, public transportation, millions of people- criminals and slums. He'd seen it all. Of course, this place was not as bad as some other cities he'd been in were. Detroit came to mind, but the district to the west was close enough.

Alex liked the western district the most out of the three of this city. There were the slums, and the prison. There was more than enough prey to satisfy him.

He had been careful, though. Unless he wanted Blackwatch to know where he was, he couldn't cut loose anymore. It didn't bother him too much, though. He got enough excitement from stalking his would-be victims, so he didn't need wide-scale slaughter. Not to mention that there weren't any large groups of perfectly viable targets, like the streets full of infected or Blackwatch compounds for him to go all out. Alex didn't enjoy killing civilians, especially not innocent civilians, so he hadn't had many chances to stretch his claws in...forever. Taking out gangs and drug cartels, like he did in Detroit and Miami, could only be done for so long until someone would get suspicious. Until he and Dana were forced to relocate.

Dana had wanted some stability, something to stay for a while before they inevitably fucked up, so Alex was determined to allow her relax and keep up the facade for a bit longer. For Dana, nothing was beyond his abilities.

For now, though, he had free range and could do whatever he wanted to do, as long he kept it overt.

He glanced down, checking whether anybody was going to notice him, before he leapt off the building and snapped his arms back, soaring through the dark sky. Tonight he wasn't going to head to the western district, though. Picking off the many homeless and criminals there was easy, but if he didn't take care he would become sloppy. So he decided to go to the southern district and look for a few of the many drug dealers there. And the salt water river between the districts wasn't anywhere deep or wide enough to hinder his movement anyways. Hell, heading over to the main land was laughable easy too, and that little creek wasn't going to stop him. So when he reached the southern district, he was still high enough to pass across the subway tracks before he touched down with a resounding thud. He pushed off the roof at the same moment though, idly noticing the single sofa, the TV, fridge and other objects he knocked over. If the occupants were to check for the source of the crash, he would be long gone. But knowing humans, they probably wouldn't. They have been ignorant to him and the Infection back in Manhattan, they never managed to put two and two together in Miami or Detroit, and even Blackwatch never seemed to figure out his pattern.

It was hard to believe that they were actually a threat to him. In fact, to him they weren't. They were only dangerous to Dana, and it wouldn't matter whether he was still with her or not- if Blackwatch would find her, then they would harm her to get to him.

Alex snorted and headed atop another rooftop, taking care to jump across the building's facade instead of wall-running to prevent a tell-tale track of footprints up the wall. Even when nobody ever seemed to notice it, it was better to not push his luck.

He glanced down, watching the dark streets below for viable candidates for consuming. Unlike in the slums, in this district it was slightly harder to figure out where to find his prey. The drug dealers he looked for didn't appear in open areas like the hooligans in the slums did, but he had been chasing after scum like them long enough to have figured out their patterns. They usually hung around alleys and derelict buildings, but close enough to public places to sell their wares.

He stopped, half-hanging by one hand off the rooftop. His eyes narrowed, focusing on a guy lurking in the mouth of an alley. He wore a hoodie, a baseball cap, worn jeans and sneakers. Alex pushed off and soared lower, carefully landing on the rooftop above the man. From here, his sense of smell could pick up traces of drugs. Cocaine, Meth, even Crystal. He didn't smell like a junkie though, and he had a poorly concealed handgun in the waistband of his pants.

He smirked and got up, right arm writhing and changing into a twisted mess of strands in red and black, tipped with five silver claws. He pulled the Whipfist back and flung it to the front, claw slicing through the air at an incredible speed. The dealer was send sprawling to the front when the talons connected with him, before Alex yanked and dragged him back. The rapid change of direction knocked all wind from the man's lungs, preventing him from screaming.

Alex didn't give him a chance to. As soon the man was close enough, Alex slammed him hard into the roof, snapping his neck and killing him. His feeding tendrils connected, drawing the man inside with practiced ease. The viral weapon huffed out, letting the new set of memories implant themselves into his mind. Another dealer, like he already had so many of. It were different faces, different cities, different gangs- but this guy was just the same as all of the others. For being the most innovative and intelligent species on this planet, humans were incredibly bland and boring.

He glanced at the cracked roof tar. He wondered what he should do now? Use the guy's memories and track down the others? He could do it. It would be easy, but then he would have to lie low for a week until something else took the public's attention away from the sudden disappearance of several dozen men before he could continue.

Should he allow himself two or three more before he'd call it a night and return to Dana? He could return the next night and continue feeding, so it wouldn't be too obvious, but then maybe the leaders would go into hiding once they notice their numbers dwindle.

He pondered for a moment before he began moving. He would take out the whole gang, feed off them and replenish his Biomass, then wait for a few days until grass had grown over the whole deal.

Alex dropped to the floor, careful to glide for the last distance to prevent cratering, and quickly shifted into the dealer's shape. With a small grin, he walked deeper into the alleyway, vanishing in the darker areas of the district.

Empire City was about to lose a part of her 'undesirable' population.

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

Cole frowned, puzzled, at the mess on Zeke's rooftop. The couch lied on its side, the fridge and TV had been knocked over, the various empty take-out cartons were strewn about. He had heard something of a heavy thud in the middle of the night, but hadn't been sure whether it had been a dream or if in some neighbor's apartment something fell over. But now he had to realize that something had hit their roof hard.

He scratched his head in confusion.

"Hey man", Zeke called out, walking through the door to meet him. "Here you are. I have been lookin' for you." He halted in his movement when he noticed the state of his roof. "Have you been doin' a little redecoration?"

"No", Cole replied. "But in the night I thought I heard a bump. Didn't think too much of it and went to sleep again." He shrugged. "Today I went for groceries after meeting with Trish and remembered it. Came up here, found that."

"Dude, I don't think this had been a tornado", Zeke pointed out.

"It wasn't" Cole went to the middle of the roof. "See that? All your stuff has been flung away from this point. Plus-" He tapped the flat depression with the toe of his shoe, "This looks like an impact crater."

Zeke furrowed his brows. "So, you wanna say that we got hit by a meteor?"

"Maybe", Cole shrugged, "Though I'm not seeing anything."

"Yeah. Guess it doesn't really matter", Zeke agreed. "We could just, dunno, put a carpet on the hole and everything's gonna be okay."

"Think so too." Cole walked to the back of the roof and rummaged through the plastic box there, pulling a beaten and moth-eaten rug out of it. Together with Zeke, he put it over the crater. The courier then threw a glance at the upturned sofa. "Come over here and help me with this thing", he requested. "I'm not going to lift it on my own."

"Aw, man. I'm not the muscles. I'm the brain, you know?" Zeke complained.

"Less talking", Cole replied, "More lifting." He glanced at his best friend. "Might help you get that tub of lard off too. Then you'll maybe get girls." He paused with an amused smirk. "If they actually dig an half-assed Elvis impersonator with a horrid sense in fashion and humor."

"Oh hey!" Zeke pouted, but still helped Cole lift the couch and put it back. They then proceeded with tidying up the roof, placing the television and the fridge back and removing the takeout packages. Then Zeke threw a look at his watch and uttered a startled yell.

"Oh Hell! I'm gonna be late."

Cole frowned. "Late for what?"

"I wanted to meet with Dwight", his roommate explained, "Wanted to stay the night too. He found some awesome stories."

"You mean conspiracy theories", Cole pointed out.

"They're not theories", Zeke argued. "They're true!"

"Sure. And Abstergo abducts people off the street", Cole deadpanned. He paused and glanced at Zeke. "Wait. Dwight?"

"Yeah?"

"The Dwight that, I dunno, stole your car and sold its parts?!"

Zeke shuffled his feet. "Yes?"

"Zek, I thought you were done with him. You said you never wanted to see him again."

"C'mon. He's my best friend besides you."

"He stole your car, Zeke!"

"That was in the past."

"He has a serious drug addiction!"

"He has a hot sister."

"...I worry for your mental health." Cole threw his arms up in defeat. "Fine. Go then. If you get back here wearing nothing but your glasses because he sold your stuff for a shot, I'm going to tell you 'Told you so'." He turned to head back inside the building. "Meanwhile, I will enjoy my day off with a cold beer and Super Mario."

"Don't have too much fun without me", Zeke called after him.

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

Cole was draped over the sofa in their apartment, head rolled back and eyes closed. The television was on, and the words 'Game Over' flickered over the screen. The controller sat forgotten on the cushions besides him.

He had made it halfway through the first three missions before the entire amount of exhaustion that had accumulated throughout the last few weeks hit him. His job as bike courier was demanding much from his body, so most of his free days he spent actually sleeping it off.

The ring of the doorbell startled him out of his sleep, so bad he flailed off the couch and hit the floor with a pained yelp.

He groaned and glared at the closed door, wondering just who it might be.

The bell rang again. He grunted and climbed to his feet, then shuffled over to the door with a yawn.

"Zeke, I told you not to let Dwight cheat you out of your stuff", he grumbled as he swung the door open. "If you lost another key, I won't pay-" He cut himself off, eyes wide in surprise.

"And hello to you too, Cole", Trish grinned at him.

Cole blinked, mouth opening a few times until he managed to work his tongue. "Trish?!"

"Yes"

"I thought you were at work?!"

The nurse smiled. "Surprise! I got the day off." She lifted a plastic bag. "And to celebrate it, I got your favorite snacks. And beer."

Cole blinked, then a huge grin appeared on his face as he stepped back. "You always amaze me, Trish."

"I know."

She set the bag down on the low coffee table while Cole went to get a bowl for the snacks. When he returned, he noticed Trish browse his and Zeke's gaming collection.

"Looking for something special?"

"Just dirty secrets", she explained, "Like those Japanese Porn games."

"Nah. You won't find them here", he replied, "They're too expensive for us. We only have second hand games."

"Really?" Trish pulled out a copy of Street Fighter. "Then I do hope you're ready to get your ass kicked, MacGrath."

Cole set down the bowl and picked up the controller. "Prepare to get beaten. I am lethal with Chun Li."

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

It was early in the morning when Zeke came back home. He remembered why he avoided Dwight. Not only that he tried to tap him for money, but his apartment also smelled like fry fat and stale smoke. And he had the incredible ability to suck up spare time like a vacuum cleaner, making both of them forget to eat or drink aside from an occasional beer. Not that he had much else in his apartment- Dwight was known for being constant broke.

Oh God. Zeke's eyeballs were itchy, his mouth felt like old leather and his brain felt like jelly. Alcohol, dehydration and the latest gossip about secret governmental projects were a bad combination. Also, Dwight had found the blog of somebody called Athena, and those things had been gold. They hadn't slept at all, and around six in the morning Zeke finally decided that he should return home.

It was Sunday, and thus, it was very calm. Nobody disturbed him as he stumbled home.

He really needed greasy eggs and bacon. Hopefully Cole would be already awake and prepare him some breakfast and coffee. Lots of coffee. Black.

He needed longer than usual to unlock the front door, but once he did, he staggered inside.

Chaos greeted him.

Zeke blinked dumbfounded. Hell, this looked like a few cupboards exploded. There were two controllers thrown on the couch, an empty gaming cartridge lay in a corner, the game itself peeked out of their gaming station. The television was off, though.

The coffee table stood at a wrong angle, as if it had been pushed away from its original position. There was a half-eaten bowl of snacks (those little salted dog-shaped crisps Cole seemed to like so much) and a lot of crumbs. Several empty bottles rolled around on the floor.

Zeke frowned as he moved further inside. He found Cole's shoes in different corners of the room, as if they'd been kicked off. On the couch was his yellow and black jacket, and his T-shirt hung over the arm rest.

Besides the couch was something white. Zeke went over and picked it up, blinking in confusion at it. It was a white blouse, but too small to be Cole's.

Also, it was a woman's.

Right. Trish. Trish was here?

He blinked again, noticing the trail of discarded clothes going in a straight line to Cole's room.

Yup. Trish's definitely here.

Zeke sighed and went to get himself a mug of water. He wasn't sober enough to face his best friend. Not right now. Cole would murder him if he went on to disturb them. Not something he wanted. So he stayed where he was, drank his water in slow sips and started to clean the living room.

He also prepared breakfast, fried eggs and bacon and grilled some toast.

Three hours later, Trish was the first to arrive. She looked disheveled, with her hair sticking out at random angles. Her clothes were a mess and didn't look like they've seen an iron lately. Zeke briefly wondered where she got them, because her stuff was in a pile on the couch- but then he remembered that Trish, and Cole to an extent, had some of their stuff stashed at each other's apartment.

She had reached the kitchenette and slumped at the table with a groan, then reached blindly for the glass of orange juice.

"Mornin', angel", Zeke greeted her way too chipper.

"Morn'" Trish muttered. "Ugh."

Cole came in next, dropped into his chair and snatched a strip of bacon off Zeke's plate, then chewed it slowly and with the uttermost care.

"You guys had a party", Zeke whined, knowing fully well his pitched voice hurt their ears, "And you didn't invite me."

"Private party", Cole grunted.

"You weren't allowed", Trish added. She groaned again and eyed the collection of empty bottles at the counter. "Shit. How much did we have last night?"

"Dunno", Cole replied. "I stopped counting after the fourth bottle." He paused, frowning. "I think it was the weird stuff Zek cooked up in that microbrewery across the street."

"Remind me to never drink with you again", she murmured.

"Not my fault. Chun Li made us do it."

"I'm a nurse. I should know the dangers of drinking unregistered stuff. We could be blind, you know?"

"Pf", Cole waved her off. "Then you would've been the last thing I ever saw and it would've been perfect."

She slapped his arm and Zeke groaned. "Really guys? Not only you were all over each other like a couple of randy teenagers, but you also have to rub it into my face that I don't have a girlfriend? I don't even have a girl for friend."

"Because you are repulsive", Trish cooed.

"Drop a few pounds and get some common sense", Cole added, "Then maybe."

"I hate you so much", Zeke grumbled.

Cole's phone suddenly started ringing. Loudly. He and Trish both cringed back with a swear.

It kept on ringing, until Cole had enough and stomped over to it with a glare.

He answered it. "Yes?" Okay, maybe he was a bit too aggressive.

"MacGrath" Oh joy. It was George. His boss.

"What?" Cole growled.

"Lose that attitude", George told him, "I have a package for you here."

"It's Sunday. I have the day off."

"Look- the client said it is very important."

"So? Get Bud on it. He has the Sunday shift."

"Won't work. He was very specific. It has to be you."

"The client can screw himself", Cole hissed.

"Then you can kiss your job good-bye", George replied with an equally sharp tone. "You either come over here and deliver that package, or I will fire you. And then good luck trying to find another job with that shit certificate of yours."

Cole's teeth ground together. He noticed the glances of his friends, before he bit out, "Fine. I'll be there in two hours."

"Make it one hour."

"Fine" He clicked his phone off with way too much force. Great. Wonder how much that client paid for this job. Must've been a Hell lot, because otherwise George would be a little more approachable.

"You heard that?"

"Yeah", Trish sighed. "Sounds like a fun boss."

Cole exhaled sharply and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look- I'll get over there and finish this job", he grumbled unhappily. "It's just one package. Shouldn't take too long."

"Be careful, brother", Zeke told him. "You look like you have a Hell of a hangover."

Cole grunted in reply, then went to the bathroom for a shower.

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

Cole swore his skull was about to explode on him. He actually hoped it would, because then the headache would stop and he would be relieved of his problems. The trip to George's office had been Hell. The boss of Fast Track Parcel Services had chewed him out for back-sassing him, then shoved the package into his hands and told him to get to 19th and Sloat a.s.a.p. to meet with the client, some guy called Kessler. Cole had half the brain to not tell him to screw himself- George was paying his bills, after all- so he had begrudgingly accepted and rode his bike over to the Historic District. The package itself wasn't too large, but pretty heavy.

Cole's brain pounded against the inside of his skull, worsening his mood. He trod into the pedals faster, just wishing to finish this tour so he could get back home. Halfway over the Fremont Bridge, however, he realized that at the intersection of 19th and Sloat was no building. Where was he supposed to bring the package then?

Better not, though. Because the client was always king, so he could have him fired. Cole growled under his breath, and rushed past a traffic light that just switched to red. No time for stopping.

19th and Sloat- Cole kicked the brakes and his bike stopped with a screeching noise, startling a few people around. He got off and glanced around. Now, who could this Kessler person be?

He hoisted the package off the carrier and looked around once more, frowning at the people. Deciding to take his chances, he picked up his voice. "Fast Track Parcel Service!" He called out, "Uhm- I'm looking for somebody who wanted a delivery."

Nobody bothered to acknowledge him, though, just continued on their way to do whatever so many people do at Sunday morning.

Cole tried it again. "Anybody? C'mon, I don't have all day." His head hurt again, but he couldn't lose it now. So he turned to a woman in a pink dress. "Hey"

She glared at him as if he'd personally insulted her and her entire family. "Look, do you maybe have an idea who could have ordered this? I'm supposed to meet them here."

"I don't", she snapped at him. "Get lost."

He blinked, and tried very hard not to snap. "Look", he tried to reason. "This is the address they gave me. Name is Kessler."

The woman scoffed. "And I'm telling you- you got the wrong address!" She stalked off, leaving Cole puzzled.

Looks like George gave him the wrong information. And that meant he would be too late. And that meant he would probably get fired for it.

A plethora of explicits and possible swears ran through his hungover hurting brain, and condensed into a single "Shit."

His phone rang. Cole exhaled to curb in the possible tantrum that was building up and picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Is this Cole MacGrath?" Somebody asked. Cole shivered at the sound of the voice. It was a man, but he didn't know him. More even, he could probably disarm an entire army with his gritty voice. Still, he had to remain polite, even if he didn't really want to. "Who's this?"

"My name is Kessler", the man explained, "I believe you're holding a package for me."

Cole scowled at his phone. "Look, I have been here on time", he explained, "It's not my fault the address is wrong."

Kessler chuckled slightly, and it made Cole's back crawl. "No. You are exactly where you should be." Cole blinked. Then where was he? Was this some sort of joke? "Can you do me a favor and open the box?"

Cole growled. The first most rule of his job was the never open the package. "Why?" He snapped, "So you can get me fired? I don't think so."

Kessler didn't miss a beat. "I'll pay you five hundred dollars."

Cole paused. If that guy was telling the truth, then it would be grand. Five hundred bucks was a lot of money, after all. And all he had to do was to violate the first rule.

But then again, he never liked rules that much. He had a few run-ins with the law and cops already because of it. He scowled, but put the package down, pulling his box cutter from its pouch against his leg and carefully sliced the duct tape open. To his surprise, there was a metallic orb inside. He wondered about it. Was it a bowling ball? Maybe some piece of modern art?

He frowned for a moment before he scowled at the unseen client. "If you don't pay up, I'll kick your-"

Kessler cut him off. "See you soon, Cole" Cole froze. Why the Hell did this sound so ominous?

And then the orb suddenly flashed brightly. He jerked back, hit the floor and tried to scramble away from the bright shine.

He was too slow. Within moments, the light swallowed everything around. Cole was sure he was screaming, because then there was only a white-hot pain.

And then nothing.