...two men sitting at a desk talking, against a colorful background...

FLIP

...a woman spinning a giant numbered wheel while a man holding a metal baton looks on encouragingly...

FLIP

...more people talking, this time in a darker setting.  The women are very pretty.  They seem to be debating something important.  Someone has an outburst and is subdued and handcuffed...

FLIP

...a couple in a comfortable environment, talking, maybe arguing.  There's a crowd's laughter from someplace unseen.  More talking, followed by more laughter...

FLIP

...a cartoon girl with huge eyes and dark hair is dancing with odd-looking creatures...

FLIP

...an unclothed woman and an unclothed man are engaged in some kind of rhythmic physical activity involving her mouth and his whatever-it's-called.  His grunting and facial expressions make it look either painful or enjoyable, without certainty.   She looks like she's enjoying herself...

FLIP

...a band of musicians playing and jumping about while looking back at NotBetty through the screen...

FLIP

...a woman in a beautiful white gown, angry, her face red...

FLIP

...three immature people, somewhere between a child and an adult.  Four legged animals, dogs.  Many many dogs...

FLIP.  FLIP.  FLIP.  FLIP.  FLIP.  FLIP.  FLIP.  FLIP.

...sleek, brightly colored, cars.  Fast.  Very fast.  Dueling to be first as they raced down the highway, in and out of other cars.  The view alternating between drivers, controls, the street view.  Emotions were high, intense, the sound was roaring and vibrating the the floor slightly from the speaker.  The silent twin kept it on this channel and began turning the volume up, louder and louder to help drown out the cries of distress that were coming from the stranger in the other room.
 

Tom hurriedly shut the door behind him, the noise from the television pounding through the house was almost drowning out the sound of Bob's yelling. Almost, but not quite. He saw that Betty was a bit more appropriately dressed (and this was a good thing, because there's only so long a man can master himself around so much lovely bared female flesh), and she was standing in front of Bob, who looked livid and scared, all at the same time. "Can someone please turn down that damn noise?! You can hear it all the way out to that roadway!" the older man thundered. He let out a "hrrumph" and took in the tableu: the Asian and the Orang were staring at the communications device and speaking quietly enough that he couldn't make out what they were saying over the noise of the box. Al was looming over their captive. By all that was just, how had he gotten himself mixed up with these people? 

"We need whatever device he uses to open the convayence. It is sealed against us at the moment." he said tersely, wanting nothing more than to go back outside to reclaim the peace he'd lost. 

Tom moved next to the chair, wondering what was going through the Bob's head. What part he played in all this. Would they ever really know? "It's an ugly situation, but we're all in it now together son." He looked at Al and Betty. "We're going to have to let him out of this chair eventually, if only to operate the machine outside. Can whatever it is you do keep him calm and compliant? I somehow doubt he's open to trusting us after the poor treatment we've shown him." He snorted again. "If ever that was even possible to begin with." 

"It's not too late, I can still help you" Fox chimed in grim earnest.  "You're obviously lost.  If you release me I can arrange a meet with whomever you want.  You set the terms and I'll deliver the message."

"Tell me, what did my companions find in your communication device? What is your purpose here, your true one? Let's start there." 

"The simple truth is I don't know.  Like I told... her... before, I was tasked to make contact with you, assess your strengths and weaknesses, and report back to my handlers.  The only intel I was given were pictures and codenames for each of you."

"Codenames? And what were those? What is mine, for instance?" 

Fox gave his head a sideways spin.  "You, you didn't have one, just the head shot.  I don't know why.  His was 'Bulwark'," he said, gesturing with his head at Al.  "His was 'Ghost'," he said with a gesture this time at the Asian.  "The monkey's was 'Nine', and there was only one picture for the twins.  Their codename is 'Princess'.  If you have the monkey check my phone you can verify that what I'm telling you is the truth."

The Asian smiled. Ghost. He liked that. A name. How it fit he wasn't sure, but the moniker definitely pleased him.

"Orangutan," Tom said distractedly, annoyance warring with puzzlement over what Bob was saying. "He's an Orangutan, not a monkey. At any rate," he sighed, " can you confirm this, Mr. Nine?" 

Mr. Nine? It seemed to tickle something in the back of the orang's mind, but whatever it was failed to materialize beyond a vague recognition and a feeling that perhaps it wasn't quite correct. The Orang shrugged it off and focused his attention back on answering the question. "Yeth, the images downloaded to his devithe were of uth and included the names he mentioned. His handlers theem to be athothiated with an organization he abbreviates to BK. For example, BK That uplink, BK OPth Control, BK Tac Com. Using logic, I would gueth that the That uplink is thome thort of Data link to a communications thatellite, perhaps in geothynchronus orbit. Ops control would be Operations Control, and tac com, would be Tactical Command. Has a militaristic feel to it."

Tom nodded. Military. Satellites. Orbits. An organized group with knowledge on all of them enough to track them here. Ah yes, it just kept getting worse.

The Asian--Ghost--spoke in low tones to the Orang. To Nine. "We should find another residence," he said. "Some place like this but unknown to anyone who might be after us. Or, at the very least, some place we are less likely to be observed and questioned." He nodded his head to Fox. "Wherever he may lead us, it will by definition be compromised. We must find a hostel or an abandoned location, a place we can use as a base." He was silent for a long moment. "Or so I believe," he added. It was as conciliatory as he could be.

"That's a good plan.  Take a look at the maps, the information device."  Al paused for a moment.  "See if you can find somewhere close.  They'll probably have a means of tracking both him and his vehicle."

The orang - Nine - nodded. "The thell phone has a themi-thophithticated gpth navigation thythtem. I would athume it could be tracked as well, for it would have to put out a locator beacon in order for the navigation thythtem to function properly. I could probably dithable it, or thwitch it with another module with little effort and wihtout ruining the devithe, though I would thay that thimply powering the devithe off would do for a thtart. The vehicle, however, would take more time and effort to determine if it is trackable, and how." Fitting actions to words, Nine powered off the device the Asian, Ghost, had appropriated from Fox, and as an extra precaution, slipped the battery out as well.

He returned his attenthion to his comrades, "I'm not sure the computer's data thtore would give that information, but I'll do my betht to find thomething. Our betht courthe of action, in my opinion, would be to thimply travel around until we found a likely location. Thith would have theveral benefits," the orang paused, before he started ticking the points off on his long dextrous fingers, "we'll be mobile, harder to track,  we can gather visual data on our thurroundings, learn the lay of the land tho to thpeak, and locate a likely bathe of operations."

"Bob," Tom said, squatting down in front of the man, but far enough away that should their captive be able to free himself he would have room to maneuver. "Bob, here's the thing of it. You were hired to do a job, or mission if you like. I understand the lies you told, and also the perdiciment you've found yourself in. You've been told we're violent people, and certainly our actions would lead to confirmation of that. Still, when we leave, and that will be in the next few minutes I assure you, we have a choice. We take you with us and worry about you escaping every moment of the day. At which point you'd no doubt inform your employers of everything you know and have heard." Tom grimaced. "I don't like that at all, but it is what it is. The second choice is to kill you, and stop those tracking us from learning any more than you may have already told them. The trail would stop here, as it were, and your death would mean that they'd have to start over." 

He looked at Bob in a most direct manner. "I don't want to kill you Bob. You're just doing your job. Tell us how best to avoid capture from your employers, tell us what you would do if you were us, and we'll simply render you unconcious and leave you here. What do you think, Bob? What would you do, if you were me." 

"Let me bring you in," Fox replied quickly.  "There's no upside in killing me.  I told you, my handlers were explicit in that they wanted you unharmed.  Regardless of what you do to me, they will eventually come with enough force to take you on their own terms.  If you let me bring you in then I can arrange a meet at a place and time of your choosing.  If you kill me they will just send someone else and believe me, they will find you."

He shook his head.  "You can't run from these people."

Tom nodded and stood. "There's logic to that statement. IF he doesn't betray us when he makes his call, we can choose the where and the when. And as he said, they sent him to find us through science or arts unknown, but send him they did. They most assuredly could do so again." He looked back at Bob. "For what it's worth my friend, I'm sorry you got involved in all this. But no doubt you knew the consequences and risks. How much time can you buy us?"

The trussed man shrugged.  "Twenty four hours?  I really don't know, but my people will be much more patient if you let me make the call."

"Again, reasonable." He sighed sadly. "Are you lying about this Bob? If we, let you make the call, will you betray us? Think carefully before you answer, because the Princess here will soon be discerning the truth of it for us." His voice had gone cold, eyes flat. "I'd not like to think that you'd lie to me now, Bob." 

Nine spoke up before the bound man could answer. "Who or what is BK? Your phone records indicate they are these handlers you mention. The ones we can't run from. What does BK stand for?" 

Fox didn't answer.  He seemed preoccupied with Tom's last threat, and with avoiding looking directly at Betty. 

"Please... don't do that," he asked quietly.  "I've told you the truth.  Just keep her away from me."  His voice was barely audible over the noise from the television in the other room.  The silent twin had begun flipping through the channels again, so it was a little less distracting now than the movie she was previously watching. 

A sly grin crept across Princess Betty's face as she took a slow step closer to Bob.  She liked the power she had over this man, and the ability to make him fear her.  "Answer the question Bob, what does BK mean?"  Betty's voice was gentle, and she did not force him to make eye contact with her, not yet anyway. "You need to cooperate with all of us now Mr. Fox."

The closer Betty got the more his head turned away.  He happened to be facing towards the other men while looking down at the floor.  His expression was of a man cornered.  His wheels were turning as he considered his answer, clearly reluctant to answer at all yet also knowing she had some way to make him talk that he'd never encountered before, even during his time spent training to resist interrogation.

"Black Knight," he finally said.  "I work for Black Knight."

Finally, an answer that he could work with! Nine nodded to himself in satisfaction. Without another word, he headed quickly back into the living area where the small computer was located. As he entered the room, he spoke encouragingly to their young Mimic. "It's mothtly over, we'll be moving on shortly. You can lower the volume, there should be no more violent or loud epithodes. He was not harmed." 

If the quiet twin heard him she didn't acknowledge it.  Instead she continued her pattern of flipping through the channels until something caught her attention, and then remaining there until the short informationals would interrupt them.  She was currently watching two men dancing around each other and grappling in an area boxed off with ropes.

Nine turned his attention back to his task, quickly and efficiently opened several search windows, in the first he processed a general search for the name Black Knight. In the second he narrowed the search a little further, to Black Knight + Business. After the results for both searches came back he organized the screen by resizing each window to allow both search reults to appear side by side and a third search window to be available underneath, allowing him to use cross check results and process an even narrower search. He idly wished he had a multi-screened apparatus, but forced himself to focus on the task at hand. One must always work with the tools provided, and the most important tool was his own mind. The database however limited would serve only to provide the data necessary to allow his mind to provide answers.

Most of the intitial entries were fantastical in nature, involving what looked to be an ancient cultural myth surrounding a fictional figure named "the Black Knight".  This individual was, based on the accumulated accounts, a fierce and invincible warrior who used his might for conquest and drew his name from the dark metal armor he wore.

The business entries mainly focused on an entity known as BlacKnight Industries LLC.  It was a 'limited liability corporation', which was apparently some kind of representative group ownership with built-in risk mitigation.  The entity itself was based in an unfamiliar land named Scotland and, based on a very slick presentation page, was involved in a myriad of business ventures, all on massive scales. 

BlacKnight itself was a conglomeration of smaller corporate entities: BlacKnight Energy, BlacKnight Aerospace, BlacKnight Defense, BlacKnight USA, BlacKnight Transportation, and so on, each focused on a particular industry.  There were various articles on the corporate's page about contracts with various governments, successful energy ventures, various philanthropic efforts, and so on.

Away from the company's page there were enough articles mentioning BlacKnight that Nine was able to deduce their relative importance within this culture to be fairly high, and apparently very well-connected.  some of the articles painted BlacKnight as a model corporate citizen of the world.  Others made it out to be the root of all evil. 

BlacKnight obviously used the imagry of the mythical figure as its own, with colors and symbology typical of the ancient time within which the myth had been born.  There was only one other extraneous factor that connected the real-world entity of BlacKnight directly with the legend.  BlacKnight Industries LLC was run by one man, Sir William Tyrion Black.  He was their leader and public face, a rugged-looking tall man with white hair and a face that gave no hint as to his age.  Based on the man's biographical information he was sixty-three years old, but Nine wasn't so sure he was quite that old after studying the picture.

One of the data links had drawn a direct line between Sir William and the mythical knight of days long past.  The link was for a group known as Merlin's Disciples, a group of ambiguous size and intent.  Much of their time had been spent building and making a case that Sir William Tyrion Black was either a direct descendant of this Black Knight or that he himself was somehow the actual figure living in present day.  Most of the evidence was circumstantial or unsubstantiated claims made by third or fourth-hand sources.

"A moment, Mr. Fox," Tom said politely, smiling but with very little humor. He approached the noisy image box in the other room and stood before it, examining it closely. There had to be.... ah.. there, on the side. He tapped a series of buttons that caused: the picture to change, the color to skew, the volume to go up even further, and then... silence. Upon the screens surface were the words "Video 3", floating on a sea of black.

Nodding, he turned to the more bizarre Princess. "This is not helping. Noise attracts attention. Come into the other area, it's your future too that is being decided." Then he returned to Fox, grateful that at least he could hear himself think. It probably wouldn't take her but a moment to figure out what he'd done, but maybe she'd pay attention and come join the others. And if she didn't, he'd put his damn foot through that device and silence it once and for all. 

She sat there unmoving for several moments, and placed the remote down next to her.  Her posture was slumped and a bit disheartened, but she made no attempt to turn the device back on.

The Asian frowned as he watched Tom and Nine continue their investigations. He stood quietly, arms crossed, and simply took everything in. If he had concerns or opinions on what they'd learned thus far he was keeping them to himself.

Al paced slowly behind Tom and Nine, occasionally glancing at the screen.  The information coming up suggested they were subjects.  Experimental subjects.  And that Black Knight had somehow lost them.  Or sent them here to see how they would react.  Now there was a retrieval team waiting to bring them back in - or eliminate them.  And if these code names meant anything, there were possibly others like them - Nine suggested eight others.  Predecessors?  Failed experiments?"

"I wonder if there's a Ten," he mused aloud.

Or a 20. Or a 30, Tom thought with a chill. Who knew where it began or ended.

Nine looked up at Al's comment, confusion in his eyes. It took a full second before he made the likely connection between his 'codename' and the monolith's comment. "Indeed." He said simply, trying to pick up on the big man's thought processes. Nine, ten, sequential numbers, as identification, 'codenames' possible experiment subjects. Objectify the subjects, adding a layer of insulation against attachment to the subjects would allow the experimenter greater ease and wider latitude in the experiments ha could run. Nine completely understood the methodology. If the subjects were mere objects, or base creatures, they're thoughts, feelings or reactions mattered not, other than pure data to interpret results of the experiment.

He turned to the information on BlacKnight industries, and decided they would certainly have the resources to put some osrt of plan like that in motion. For what purposes was anyone's guess, but it would fit with the desire to return them unharmed. Nine agreed with Fox's assessment. It was most unlikely they would be unable to hide from this corporate entity, gien the resources hinted at in the databases stores, and the information provided by fox. However, Nine disagreed with Fox's recommendation. It would be unwise to place themselves in this BlacKnights hands with as little information as they possessed. They needed time, the more they had, the better off they'd be. Ultimately they'd have to brace the lion in it's den, but they would do so fully armed, not as they were now. 

"It's time, gather up whatever is utheful, have Betty get a location from Fox, and lets leave. I believe Betty's thithster has learned enough to be able to operate his vehicle after we gain acceth. The thooner we leave, the more time we have to arm ourselves againtht the beatht on our trail.  However, thith beatht mutht eventually be fathed. I'd rather it be on our terms than theirs." Nine's voice was expressionless. The time for debate was over. He powered off the computer, closed it, and handed it and the electronic devices they'd gathered to the Asian, ghost. "Would you add these to your collection?" he asked, indicating the bag over Ghost's shoulder.

"Princess, if you would be so kind as to extract from Mr. Fox a suitable location?" Tom asked Betty formally. "You understand why we can't leave this one to chance, Bob." 

"Look at me Bob,"  Betty attempted to gain the captive's gaze without force.

"No...NO!"  The prisoner refused to look Betty's way, thrashing his head about to avoid it. 

"Mr. Fox, you're only going to make this harder on yourself" Betty bent and contorted her body to get closer to Bob's face.  She grabbed his chin gently with her hand, "Look at me Bob."

He shook his head violently and his eyelids mashed shut.  "No, God dammit! Don't do this!  I told you everything!  I said I'd help!"

"You also said you were just here borrowing a leaf blower," said Tom politely. "So much for what you say, Mr. Fox. Open your eyes sir, and this will be done." 

The Asian--Ghost--smiled ruefully and shook his head. "I am the villain of the group for wanting to inflict pain to extract information but everyone seems okay with the mental rape of that person's mind." He cocked his head. "We do not know what it feels like, we do not know what effects linger when it is over and yet," he shrugged. "This seems perfectly acceptable to you all." He made a spitting sound. "Pathetic."

He turned and left the room without waiting for a response. He paused ever so slightly in the front entryway before taking the stairs up to the bedroom areas.

Tom watched him go, but said nothing. There was nothing to say. If the volatile Mr. Ghost couldn't see the difference between the two, no amount of argument or explanation would help him to do so. Tom gave an inward sigh, wondering guiltily if he shouldn't just grab the damn sword and strike out on his own. No. That really wasn't an option. "And we do not seem to understand how to use contractions," he mumbled under his breath, knowing it to be a childish thing to say even as the words crossed his lips.  

Betty corrected her posture and turned to catch the Asian at the bottom of the stairs, "You want to volunteer for experimentation before I proceed with Bob here?"

"Only if you want to die when you're done," he replied matter-of-factly, meeting her eyes. After a moment he added, "Use it on him." He jerked his head at Tom, then turned away. 

Betty posed a questioning look to Tom, "Do you think maybe we could use my skill to learn more about ourselves, maybe the truth is hidden deep in our minds?"

"When we get somewhere safe, we try me."  Al stared at the Asian's retreating back.  Coward.  It's easy to criticise, far harder to actually do something about it.  "No, we don't know what side-effects there might be but we need to know."  He turned to Tom, smiled.  "Wish we'd thought of this sooner."

Nine spoke up, a smile on his maellable face. "I'd planned on thomething thimiliar with each of uth, depending of courthe on willingneth, to define the variouth extents and limits of our abilities, However, we need a thafe harbor, and I'll need much in the way of equipment. However, we've run out of time, and short of taking the occupants of the home hothtage, and trying to turn thith houthe into a defenthible bathe of operations, we need to leave, now. If you'd rather not use the princeth's talents to extract information, then gag the man, get whatever other devices are in his pockets, render him unconsciouth and let us vacate the premitheth immediately."

Tom nodded. "We should all see what Betty could pull from our minds. Very good idea that - and I'll be second in line right after you Mr. Bulwark - but Mr. Nine is right," he looked over at Bob. "Mr. Fox. We need you to open your eyes now, or we'll open them for you." 

Their prisoner's eyes didn't open.  Fox shook his head slowly from side to side and muttered, "Don't... do this."

"Then give uth another alternative." Nine replied to the bound man, moving to his side."1 One that we can trutht. Allowing you to 'take uth in', is not actheptible. Twenty four hours is not enough time for uth to gather the data we need to thuccethfully defend ourthelves. You have the information we need, however the only way to ensure the data you provide is not compromised is to use our pretty friend's abilities. In our plathe, what would you do?"

"I... I don't know," Fox answered.  He shook his head slowly, staring into the middle distance, and then seemed to steel himself.  "Let's get this over with."

"Great" Betty was enthused by Bob's cooperation.  She leaned closer and drew Bob's gaze.  "How does this make you feel Bob?"  Betty tone was easy and coaxing.

Bob didn't answer right away, but upon meeting her eyes his seemed to lock onto hers, which appeared to be full of sparkles and glittery motes that danced in his vision.  His expression immediately started to soften, his mouth opening, his jaw slacking as he fell quickly under Betty's seductive spell.

"Feel...oh... you... good..."

"Bob, is there a safe location we can move to?  One where your 'BK' won't find us for the time being?  And how long will we be safe for there?  How do we get there?"

"Location...private..." Fox replied.  "Must be private... and provide cover from sattelites.   An abandoned building, or a safe house, maybe run a home invasion and commandeer someplace with supplies... follow someone home from the market, someone with lots of bags... eventually they'll tap the traffic camera network, but driving should be safe for now."

There was a pause as Fox was torn between thinking and the mind-numbing bliss that were his blonde captor's eyes.  "They'll get warrants, use the police, the FBI, make it impossible for you to buy food and shelter... force you to expose yourselves..."

"Where's the closest market? " Betty seemed to have a sudden thought, "or should we drive far away before we settle?"

"You should wait," Fox answered dreamily. 

"Alternately we take the food from this place. Better to be a theif only once than multiple times," Tom mused. He didn't like doing this, and the Asian did have a point - violation of mind was morally no different from violation of body. He disliked using Betty's power intensely - but not using it could mean their death. "A home invasion would mean the possibility of hostages, and that we should avoid." 

"Agreed.  We take what we need from here.  There should be enough to last us a while.  And I much prefer the idea of an abandoned building.  Something big.  Something we can fortify, multiple safe locations."  Al looked between his companions.  "Sound good?"

Nine had been listening very intently, his keen mind and curiosity focused on Gathering as much data from the use of Betty's, The Princess's, ability as he could using his own senses. He felt keenly the lack of ... something, possibly a lab, or equipment, something to help him analyze the data. Her power seemd to effect the pleasure centers and inhibition centers of the brain. He wondered idly if it was pheremone driven, or some sort of psychic manipulation. Her need to have eye contact could indicate more of a psychic ability, if it was pheremone driven it would affect them all with proximity.  He wondered how far away she could be, maintaining eye contact and still have an effect. He shook off the speculation and focused on Fox's last statement, ignoring his companion's words.

"Printheth, please athk Mr. Fox why we should wait, or what we should wait for, and for how long?"  

"What are we waiting for Mr.Fox?" Betty asked in a drole voice, taking direction from the monkey while acting as coduit to the hostage's mind was not something that thrilled her.

"No... wait..."  Fox seemed confused.  "Wait to get supplies," he explained.  "Don't wait to leave."
 
"Fine, good. I think we've asked what we can." Tom said. "I think we take Mr. Fox with us for a bit, then leave him somewhere he can be found and strike out on our own. Asking him for any more advice would be giving him the answers he needs to find us again." He grunted, then headed off towards the living area.

Betty chewed her bottom lip as she pondered her new found powers.  With the hostage still captive in her gaze she spoke very cleary.  "Mr. Fox, from now on when you hear my voice say your name, I want you to meet my eyes.  Where ever you are, you will meet my gaze when I say 'Robert Fox'.  Is that understood?"  Betty was unsure if the suggestion would work but hoped to avoid future hassles regarding eye contact.

Fox just stared at the sexy young woman for an amatory moment, his eyes all glassy and wide, his mouth hanging slightly open.  That he was compleletly submerged and infused with whatever was inside of Betty's eyes was obvious.  "Understood," he finally said with a heavy, devotion-laden voice.

Nine watched with intent fascination as Betty started an experiment, very similiar to the one he had thought of. It'd be interesting to see if she could provide any lingering suggestion while he was in his entranced state. If successful, Nine thought he might bea ble to suggest a way for them to divest themselves of Fox, without worrying about the information they'd inadvertantly given him. Strong hypnotic suggestion could cause false memories, even forgetfulness. Though Fox seemed to recall his answers after being released.

"Tom" he said, trying not to distract Betty and her subject. "minimal supplies please, time is dwindling fatht. We can rethupply later." 

Still focused on her subject Betty inquired, "Bob, what is your deepest fear?  What are you most afraid of?"

Fox's head swayed as his addled mind turned the question over.  "No... no..."  He seemed to grow agitated, upset.  "No...control."

?

* * * * *

As Tom entered the other room, he found the quiet twin sitting on the floor.  Her posture was slumped and the only thing she was doing, was tracing her fingers along the hard wood floor.  "I need your help," he told the dejected, miserable-looking twin. "We have to gather things to eat. Things that will last if we take them with us. Can you identify those things for us?"

The twin seemed to perk up at the sound of a voice in the room and turned to regard the bald man.  She stood up and slowly approached him, her eyes showing a glimmer of understanding.  Despite her lack of a verbal response he could tell that she was willing to try and help.

Tom gave her a quick smile, grateful that she was engaging. "Good. I'd like for you to go through the cubicles and holding bins here and pull out things that won't spoil. As much as you can. I'm going to go into the outer chamber and find something to hold it all. Ok?"

"Eat."  She nodded her head once and walked towards the kitchen.  As she walked she averted her eyes away from the prisoner and kept close to the wall, leaving as much distance between herself and the disturbing scene as she could. 

Tom watched her move to the kitchen, noting the near wall-hugging avoidance and rolled his eyes up towards heaven, muttering either a prayer or a curse to whomever might be listening - even he didn't know what it might have been at this point. Whatever or whoever he had been before all of this, he was obviously paying for it now. He headed off towards the outer chamber to gather up whatever containers he could.

Once she arrived at the kitchen, something seemed to trouble her and she began looking around frantically, her eyes flitting from one face to the other as she processed the fact that the Asian was no longer in the room. With a small whimper she took off towards the stairs that he had gone up before, but when she got to the top she found that he wasn't there.  Another more urgent whine escaped as she turned around and hurried back down the stairs, looking around frantically.

* * * * *

[OOC: Seems like a good place to stop for the moment in case our illustrious (and stern) GM wishes to interdict]

?

* * * * *

The scene with the stranger forgotten, the quiet twin ran to the front door and opened it wide.  She quickly decided that the outside was too big, and shut the door some to help shield herself, but she scanned the area thoroughly, making absolute sure that her anchor hadn't left the house.

Al followed her outside.  Gently, he laid a large hand on her shoulder.

A startled cry escaped her as she spun around, crouched low in an interesting defensive position.  Her hazel eyes were wide and in a way she looked very much like a frightened animal.  She looked towards the street, and then back to Al's enormous frame as if she was trying to decide which of the two evils was more easily conquered.  It was the soft and careful sound of his voice that calmed her.

"He's upstairs.  Come on, I'll show you.  Then you can show me what we need in the kitchen."

Slowly the stiffness fell away from limbs and she stood back up.  She was still leery of him but she was eager to have what he had offered.  "Good. I want." 

Carefully, slowly, he led her back into the house, followed the sound of Ghost's quiet footsteps upstairs to where he was rummaging through drawers and closets.

"See?  He's safe.  Now.  How about you show us what's good to take for food?"

Al turned Not-Betty around, started to guide her toward the stairs, the kitchen.