"No one asked you, Fujimoto," snarled Ash, turning a page of his textbook with such ferocity that it tore and came half out of its binding.

"One needn't be asked to express an opinion, the subject of which is of interest to the general public."

Dustin looked up from his book long enough to raise an eyebrow.

"Me neither," Erik said, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had just read the same paragraph of Njal's Saga three times. Group studying, especially when the only class he had in common with anyone was Shakespeare with Ray, was idiotic. He marked his place and let his head fall onto the table. "The only people who care about that stupid class are you and Ash and Ash doesn't give a flying fuck what you think."

"Ash doesn't really like talking about exams before they're written. Lots of people don't," said Sarah absently. She was partially turned away from the table, working on her laptop. The comment had been one of pure reflex, excusing Ash's behaviour without being entirely aware of what was going on.

Being Ash O'Hara's girlfriend was obviously a total blast.

"Don't either of you go putting words in my mouth, especially when I'm sitting right here. I don't even know why I agreed to this goddamn waste of time." Ash slammed his textbook shut, causing the cups and glasses on the table to shake. Erik frantically grabbed his before it fell into his lap, the saving allowing half his book to become soaked instead.

Sarah reached out to grab Ash by the wrist as he rose. Her eyes were still on the screen. "Don't. The change in atmosphere is good. If you can study a single page in the face of all the noise you'll be perfectly Zen in the actual exam room, and by this point, the coffee is free."

"I don't drink coffee. Do you know what a metabolic poison that shit is?"

"I know. You've told me."

After a minute of standing like that, muscles tensed, Ash lowered himself back into his chair and Sarah released his wrist.

Thankfully, Ray did not make anything resembling a comment about Ash being whipped. He just sipped his coffee and continued speaking like he hadn't heard a word anyone else had said. "At most, you could construe my comment as a bit of friendly advice. Surely there are classes a damn sight more important than Rahaman's to focus your mental excess upon."

"I am not about to pretend, like you do, that a class on quantum theory and relativistic mechanics is easy." Viciously, Ash turned another page, but Erik couldn't tell from where he was sitting if a crude stick figure of Ray had been doodled on the page to be torn in effigy.

"I wasn't claiming that the subject matter is easy -- although at times I find it to be far less troublesome than trying to understand social control mechanisms as they actually are and what my sad sponge of an instructor thinks they are. I am merely stating that the good doctor has structured her class work in such a fashion that, assuming one has been maintaining consistent marks to this point in the class, one would have to be a true imbecile to muck things up now."

Ash grit his teeth. "You implying my grades are lacking, Fujimoto?"

"Nothing of the sort, my pugilistic friend. Quite the contrary: it is because I am certain you've been performing to your usual unsettling standards that I think you have little to worry about." Ray stirred his coffee with a finger. "Although, you might wish to address your attentions to listening comprehension. You do seem to be a trifle lacking in that area."

"That implies that anything you'd say would be worth listening to!"

"Keep it down, guys. It's embarrassing enough when we get thrown out of bars. I don't think I could look at myself in the mirror if we got banned from a family eating establishment."

"If you'd agree to leave," Ash hissed out of the corner of his mouth, but made no move to try and leave again.

"I might have to start thinking you a bit of a fool for not considering the opinions of others who are in the same damn class as you, however," said Ray, living on the edge of safety.

"I take my education seriously!"

"As do I, but you have fallen into the trap of taking everything seriously. It's very," Ray's smile was sharp and wickedly curved, "unhealthy."

"You don't have a serious bone in your entire fat body!"

"Actually," said Erik from behind the protection of his coffee cup, "he does. Unfortunately. But he's been less fucking insane this time around, so if you could please try to not set him off --"

"Shut up, Thor. No one asked you."

"I, for one, find this unprecedented display of loyalty touching. Thank you, Thor."

"Fuck," Erik muttered, and retreated to his cup.

Ray returned to haranguing Ash with a persistence that was remarkable, even for Ray. "The laboratory experiments alone amount to fifty percent of our final mark and I could hardly describe them as impossible tasks."

Ash grunted.

The smile on Ray's face grew positively evil. Erik wondered if he'd missed something to cause the malice to abruptly become two-sided. "Of course, I suppose you were conducting all of said experiments without the aid of a lab partner. Such a situation could, I suppose, complicate the endeavour a trifle. But, I'm sure your mark has not suffered excessively because of it."

"It hasn't suffered at all, you jackass!" Ash exploded, barely managing to remain in his chair. "My mark to date probably makes yours look like that of a retarded monkey, which would be fucking appropriate."

"82.7," said Ray coolly, tilting his chair back so that the front legs were lifted off the ground.

The corner of one of Ash's eyes twitched minutely. "83.4!" he spat.

Ray's eyes widened in mock surprise. "My word, Ash! You're right! Although I suppose retarded monkeys have always had a remarkable gift for theoretical physics, but you have, quite clearly, surpassed that natural talent. Bravo!"

"You probably cheated, anyway," Ash grumbled, reaching for his water glass.

"A ninja would only cheat if it were his duty. Or with the intention of having his mark reflect his true brilliance. Nothing less than 100% would do, under the circumstances."

"God, you're an idiot."

"Besides, I'm confidant that, if I exert myself a tad more than I intended to, my final mark will certainly surpass yours." Ray's smile was sunny with overconfidence, and Erik didn't know how he managed to avoid having Ash smash all his teeth in at that moment.

Ash's hand tightened around his glass, which was thankfully some kin of ugly shatter-proof plastic and not actual glass. "Wanna bet?" he hissed.

"Certainly! What shall we wager?" Ray tipped his head to one side and rubbed his chin, pretending to be deep in thought.

"Money. Your fat cheating ass has nothing else to offer me."

Ray nodded sagely. "A reasonable request. What say you to a sum of, oh, eight thousand dollars?"

Ash, who had just taken a sip of his water, choked. Erik sprayed a mouthful of coffee across the table. Sarah's head jerked up and away from her laptop to stare at Ray in shock. Dustin put his book down.

"Inadequate? I suppose I could bump it up to ten. Yes, let's do that. Ten thousand dollars would certainly be a valuable asset, in, say, paying next year's tuition. More than enough, I imagine." Ray smiled, his chair falling back to a stable position.

Ash coughed in an attempt to clear the water from his lungs. "I don't have ten thousand dollars to waste on this idiotic bet. No deal."

"You're the one who requested money, not I."

"So, what, you just wanna give me the ten thousand as some kind of prize for beating your ass down?" Ash snorted.

"That would hardly act as an incentive for me to push myself academically, now would it? But, no, I have no need of your money, my friend. Instead, should my mark surpass yours, what I will gain from this wager will cost you nothing at all. All I ask is that, for a twenty-four hour period, you do anything I request of you."

Erik pushed his cup away from him so he wouldn't be tempted to try and drink from it again.

"I'm not having sex with you, Fujimoto."

Sarah began shutting down her laptop.

"Who said anything about sex? Certainly not I. You flatter yourself, my friend. I need not put ten thousand dollars on the line just to satisfy my libido. No, I vow that during that twenty-four hour period, I shall be the perfect gentleman and do nothing to compromise your, ah, honour or reputation in such a crude manner.

Ash bit his lower lip until it was red with blood that hadn't quite broken through the skin. "Let's see it," he said finally.

"Beg your pardon?"

"The ten thousand dollars. I'm not agreeing to anything until I see proof of its existence. I want it in cash, Fujimoto. No deal until then." Ash looked smug.

"It's dreadfully unsporting of you to doubt me in that fashion, but I suppose it can be done." Ray stoop up. "May I have the keys to the car, Thor?"

Erik's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You gonna rob a bank?"

"Nothing of the sort, my cautious friend!"

Grudgingly, Erik pulled his keys from the pocket of his jeans. "No bank robbing, mind."

"Not to worry, Thor!" Ray took the keys with a smile and paused to beam fondly around the restaurant as a whole. "I do like this place. So agreeable of that young busboy to keep adding whiskey to the pot of coffee Thor keeps going to. Entirely worth the price. Alcohol does keep you so pliable, you know." Ray patted Erik's head as his favourite victim lowered his flushing face to contemplate his coffee.

Somehow, Erik couldn't find it him to be surprised, or particularly upset.

Ray returned so quickly that no one, not even Erik, could seriously think Ray had been robbing a bank, or doing anything more time consuming than running to the car and back. In one hand, Ray held a briefcase Erik had never seen before. Ray dropped it after clearing a space on the table. It made a solid thumping sound and Ray rapidly spun the combination to open it.

Inside the briefcase in neat, bound stacks was more money than Erik had ever seen in his life.

"Will this satisfy any fears," Ray leaned on the word almost imperceptibly, "you may have?" He thumbed through the bills absently, so all could see no bills of lesser denominations had been slipped in, although Erik imagined that would be hard with Canadian money. The stacks of reddish-brown notes left something to be desired, though. Maybe the Bank of Canada could consider making its $100 bills a shin gold colour.

Ray pushed the briefcase in Dustin's direction after replacing the stack of bills he'd been fondling. "Dust can count them to verify, if you wish. In fact, if you're feeling particularly suspicious of my moral values, I propose we charge Dust with keeping it. He, of all people, won't be tempted into doing something dishonest. Will you, Dustin?"

Dustin raised an eyebrow, surveying the briefcase.

"All there?" Erik asked.

Dustin nodded.

"Where," Sarah asked faintly, "did you get a briefcase with ten thousand dollars in it?"

"It was in the trunk."

Erik choked on air.

"You drive around in that shitmobile and keep a small fortune in the drunk?" Ash asked with disbelief. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that you never know when ten thousand dollars will come in handy."

"You make me sick," said Ash. "Fuck, McCloud, close that damn thing, would you?"

The briefcase was snapped shut, locking once more, but nobody did anything to move it off the table.

"So, do we have a deal, or will you take the coward's path?"

Ash stared fixedly at the briefcase. "I want you to swear," he said after seven minutes of tense silence, "that you won't try to welsh on this bet, and that absolutely nothing sexual will occur."

"Swear on what? In front of witnesses? Is that good enough?"

Ash scowled. "No. Something you'd actually place important on, although I'm fucked if I know what that is."

"The Bible," Erik said suddenly. "Have him swear on the Bible."

"I don't think anyone has a bible on hand, Thor," Sarah murmured.

"No, that'll work. It doesn't have to be present for people to swear on it. Do it, Fujimoto."

"I do think this dreadfully unnecessary, but as you wish." Ray held up a hand and intoned with great solemnity, "I, Raymund Ilario Fujimoto, do swear on the Bible, before God, that I will not do anything to free myself from the confines of the bet and should I -- if you will it, Lord -- win this wager, I shall demand no favours of a sexual nature. Nor," he said, casting a reproving glance at Ash, "do anything so dishonest as to cheat."

Ash grunted. "Fine. It's a bet. Don't know how you're going to find time to profit on it if you do win, though. I'm back home the beginning of May and like hell the marks'll be out before I leave."

"Don't let such things trouble you," Ray smiled. "I can provide incentives even an academic could be swayed by. But," he stretched and stood up, "I believe I must take my leave now. Thor, are you company? I think I'd best drive, though. You've had rather too much to drink, after all."

Erik contemplated his empty coffee cup, but stood up, his book dangling from one hand. He essayed a small wave, but everyone except Dustin seemed too stunned to notice.

"May the best man win, Mr. O'Hara," Ray said, once more flashing his sharp smile. Erik followed him out of the restaurant.

"Do you really keep that much cash just sitting in the car?" asked Erik as Ray unlocked the doors.

"Don't be absurd, Thor. I'm no idiot. I put it in there this afternoon, shortly after the fair Sarah called to propose this little jaunt. I foresaw the chance of a certain reticence on the fair Ash's part, after all."

Erik froze in the act of doing up his seatbelt. "You never planned that."

Ray smiled, adjusting his seat. "Oh, Thor, I begin to suspect that your faith in my abilities grows daily. My insides feel delightfully warm at this thought."

"Hardly," said Erik, wrinkling his nose. He lay his head against the passenger window and watched Ray, who was glowing with satisfaction. "So what're you going to ask for if you win?" he asked at last, unable to contain himself any longer.

"When I win, Thor. When I win. But," Ray held a finger up, "my prize is something I shan't reveal. At least 7% of the joy shall be the surprise." His smile was terrifying. "But, Thor my boy, you may rely on it: it will be a thing of beauty."

Exams had been done for a week and Erik was celebrating by lying in front of Dustin's television, watching him play through Sewer Jumper at high speed. He had a can of beer balanced on his chest and was still perfectly content to lie on the floor, thinking of nothing.

Sarah was kneeling on the couch next to Dustin, peering over the back to watch as Ash took a final inventory of his luggage. In two days, at some fucking inhuman hour of the morning, he'd be flying back to Newfoundland. No one had the balls to tell him that, whatever their final marks in Dr. Rahaman's class were and whenever they were finally released, Ash wouldn't be the de facto winner if he left before anyone knew one way or the other.

"Where's Ray?" asked Sarah abruptly.

Erik could hear the angry look Ash shot at her. "Who cares?"

"I try not to ask," Erik said, moving his beer to his forehead. "I usually figure I'm happier not knowing."

No one could argue with Erik's logic on that point and the only sound in the room was once more the cheerful beeps and flushes of Sewer Jumper.

Erik knew it couldn't last. Sarah may as well have broken out some ancient Satanist's cook book and started summoning the most terrifying thing in it. He kept glancing at his watch, wondering how many more minutes' peace he had, all of which he was going to squander by wondering how much longer he had.

It ended up being twenty-three minutes, so at least Dustin had time to finish Sewer Jumper before Ray burst into the room.

Sarah looked at him, instantly wary. "Hi, Ray. Didn't hear the doorbell ring."

"I wanted it to be a surprise."

"He wanted to make a dramatic entrance," Erik corrected. He drained the last drops of beer from his can and sat up.

"Did someone leave the door unlocked?" Sarah asked, a source of eternal hope.

"I wish," said Ash, slamming his suitcase shut.

"A ninja doesn't let a locked door stop him when he wants to be an asshole," said Erik flatly.

Ray pouted. "This is hardly the reception I had hoped to find, my friends."

Erik rolled his eyes. "What's the occasion, Ray?"

Beaming, Ray pulled a much-folded piece of paper out of his pocket. Slowly, with exaggerated care, he began to unfold it.

"We wrote the exam less than two weeks ago," said Ash, getting to his feet. "Those can't be our marks."

"A ninja has many skills at his disposal," said Ray with a modest smile. He smoothed the creases in the paper and cleared his throat, remaining silent until he had everyone in the room looking at him. "Fujimoto, R. I.: 89.2%." He looked up from the paper to smile at Ash. "An impressive feat for a retarded monkey, don't you agree?"

"Fujimoto," Ash hissed, his hands bunching into fists.

"Ah, but I forget myself." Ray turned his attention back to the paper, "O'Hara, A. S.: 85.9%. Excellent work, my friend!" He looked up from the paper and folded it in half. "But, alas, not excellent enough, although I'm sure it will look lovely on your transcript."

"Give me that." Ash snatched the paper out of Ray's unresisting hand and stared at the contents in horror. "You --"

"I swore on the Bible that I was going to do nothing dishonest to affect the results, my friend. That mark is the product of nothing but my natural brilliance combined with diligent studying."

Ash crumbled the paper into a ball and hurled it across the room. "You fucker."

"Ash," Sarah said softly from her position on the couch, "no one forced you to agree to Ray's bet."

"And it would be most unsportsmanlike for you to try and seek some sort of loophole -- which, I assure you there is not -- after the pains you took to ensure that I would remain faithful to our agreement."

Ash let his breath out in a hiss. "Fine. I'm not arguing."

"Wonderful! Now, let us say your terms of service start at, oh, 9:00 tomorrow morning. Just present yourself at the domicile of myself and the good Thor, and we'll get things started. No problems with that, I hope?"

"None," said Ash through clenched teeth.

"Perfect! Then, if you'll excuse me, I'll just go and collect my property -- In Dust's room, correct? -- and be on my way. I'd love to stay, socialize, and what have you, but, alas, I find myself rather preoccupied for the next few hours. And, of course, I must rest up before tomorrow. I'd feel quite the fool if I were asleep when you arrive tomorrow!"

Ash was silent, busy trying to kill Ray through sheer force of will. Ray, oblivious to these efforts, left the room at a leisurely pace and bounded up the stairs.

Erik stood up slowly and began edging to the door. "I'd better go, too. Kevin was talking about calling me to cover a shift at work tomorrow, if Andy flaked out on him. So, uh, I'll just go now ..."

Ash looked at Erik, ready to take out his aggression on the nearest thing to Ray that was in the room, but Sara chose that moment to slide off the couch and come up behind Ash. She hugged him, kissed his ear, murmured something Erik couldn't hear, and seemed to distract Ash from the idea of substitute homicide.

Taking time only to salute Dustin, Erik ran for it. He was just at the door when he heard Ash say, "What's the worst Fujimoto can do?"

Erik winced and ran for the car.

As he was unlocked the door, Erik looked up to see Ray climbing down the side of the house, exiting from Dustin's little mini-balcony. The briefcase was held between his teeth. Erik watched in fascinated horror as Ray made it to the ground unscathed, transferred the briefcase to his hand, and jogged to the car.

Wordlessly, Erik unlocked the passenger door for him.

"It seemed the best course of action under the circumstances. The fair Ash does seem a bit shocked by this turn of events," Ray said, after they were a block from Dustin's house.

"Yeah, he's pretty pissed," said Erik slowly. "He underestimated you, I guess."

"They always do," said Ray. He didn't seem very upset by this fact.

Erik nodded, still slow and deep in thought. "I think, he said at last, "that Kevin's going to call me to cover an early morning shift tomorrow. So, uh, I won't be around to see ... whatever it is that you have planned."

"Yes, you will," said Ray simply.

"No, I won't. I need the paycheque, I need the tips, and, frankly, I don't want to be at ground zero when Ash snaps tomorrow and kills everyone he can see."

"He will do no such thing. Remember, he has to do whatever I ask, and I certainly won't allow him to go on a killing spree. That wouldn't fit into my plans for the day at all."

"Yes, and I'm sure Ash will just happily swallow whatever you intend to make him do."

Ray sighed. "It is a matter of pride at this point, Thor. If the fair Ash were to go back on our agreement, he will look weak, a coward, a man whose word is no good. I suppose I can't expect you to understand. It has to do with machismo."

Erik scowled. "Don't care. I'm not risking my neck, especially when I don't know what you have planned."

Ray shook his head and busied himself with his briefcase, spinning the combinations on the locks and opening it. He fiddled with the contents for a few minutes before removing something and shutting the briefcase again. He made a fan of ten bills and waved them in Erik's direction.

"What?"

"You are the most obtuse -- very well." Ray leaned over and slipped the bills under Erik's shirt.

Erik nearly drove into a tree.

Once the car was back on the street and in the proper lane, Erik swallowed. "Fine. I'll tell Kevin something came up."

When Erik woke up at 8:30, it was obvious that Ray had already been awake for hours. He was too excited to sleep for long, and Erik stumbled out of the bedroom to find that the shower had already been used, Ray was fully dressed, and coffee had been made.

Erik felt like he was going to vomit. He swallowed the rising bile, thought of the handful of $100 bills now lining his wallet, and went to shower, shave, and dress before anyone arrived. He emerged, clean, wet, clothed, and with a bandaid across his chin, and sought refuge in coffee.

"Lovely morning, is it not, Thor?"

Erik grunted and inhaled his coffee.

"The sun is shining, birds are singing -- it is as though the universe itself is aiding me, an ally in my goals, bending itself to make the day one as perfect as can be imagined. This, my friend, is the definition of bliss!"

Erik slouched to the couch and slumped down as far from Ray as he could get. He was only halfway through his coffee when the phone buzzed, someone below demanding entry. A quick glance at his watch showed it to be 9:00 exactly. He gulped the rest of his coffee, burning his throat.

Casually, Ray got up and ambled to the phone, dangling his coffee cup form one hand as he pressed the button to unlock the doors. Setting the phone down, he moved to the door, sipping his coffee and listening with exaggerated nonchalance for the sound of footsteps.

When Ray pulled the door open, he revealed Ash, frozen in the position of one about to knock. Sarah and Dustin were with him. The last of the witnesses. Erik wondered if Ray had bribed them into coming, or if they both had some secret fascination for train wrecks.

It would certainly explain why Sarah was still dating Ash.

"Good morning, friends! Lovely day, is it not?"

Dustin's eyebrows rose, Sarah smothered a yawn, and Ash crossed his arms over his chest, glaring death at Ray. "Let's get this over with, eh? What're you wanting?"

Ray shook his head. "So impatient, when we have an entire day ahead of us. First things first, dear Ashley --"

"Don't you fucking start, Fujimoto!"

"That's a very unfortunate note for us to be starting on, Ashley. It seems silly to object to me using your name, especially under the circumstances."

Erik could hear Ash grinding his teeth from the other end of the room. "Fine. Let's get on with it."

"Of course, Ashley. If you'll just step into the bedroom --"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?! I said no fucking sexual favours Fujimoto, and I damn well meant it!"

Ray sighed heavily, putting his coffee cup down. "I did swear on the Bible that I would be on my best behaviour, did I not? We go to the bedroom not for reasons of impropriety, but for privacy. Come, now, Ashley, do be a good spot about this."

Snarling and casting venomous looks at Ray the entire time, Ash stomped into the bedroom. Ray flashed a smile at Dustin and Sarah. "Won't be but a moment!" he chirped before following Ash and shutting the bedroom door with a muted thump.

"So," Erik said slowly into the uncomfortable silence Ray had left behind, "anyone want some coffee?"

Mutely, Sarah and Dustin both nodded. Erik climbed to his feet and went to poke in the cupboard for backup mugs. He'd found two and was blowing the dust off one when a noise of pure rage roared from the bedroom, only to be instantly silenced.

Erik bent to pick shattered pieces of cup off the floor.

Sarah winced. "I'd been hoping Ray wouldn't ask for anything too awful."

"That sounds pretty fucking awful to me," Erik said, dumping the broken cup in the garbage and pulling out a replacement for that.

Erik was pouring coffee for Sarah and Dustin -- just like work! -- when Ray emerged from the bedroom, quickly shutting the door behind him. "Oh, good job, Thor! Displaying civilized manners at long last." He retrieved his cup from its spot by the phone and topped up the contents. "I think there should be time for a cup while we wait."

Dustin frowned at his coffee.

"Yeah, that's a good question, but don't look at me. He wouldn't tell me before. You want to spill now, Ray?"

Ray smiled over his cup and shook his head. "The spice of anticipation, Thor my boy."

"More like the glaze of horror." Erik decided more coffee would do him no good and dumped his cup in the sink. He lingered in the kitchenette, watching the bedroom door warily just like everyone else. It was impossible not to look.

After fifteen minutes of waiting, the door creaked open and out stepped the most beautiful woman Erik had ever seen. She tottered and wobbled in high black stiletto heels and Erik's eyes travelled up from her feet along the length of perfectly poised legs clad in sheer stockings until, after far too long, he hit the hem of the skirt. Black, clinging leather. Erik swallowed. There was a tiny, completely decorative belt of miniscule gold links around a thin waist, half hidden by the end of a green silk blouse. It was filmy -- diaphanous, his mind suggested, and Erik cursed every English class he had ever taken. The sleeves were short and ruffled, leaving the arms almost entirely bare, and a tiny white ribbon tied into a bow held the blouse closed around breastbone level. A tiny gold watch was on one wrist, a delicate gold bracelet on the other. One fine hand clenched a square of black leather -- a purse, he realized -- with a long chain of gold links acting as a strap. They probably couldn't have fit in the purse. Dangly clip-on earrings completed the picture, complicated twists of gold and green stones that almost brushed her shoulders.

Erik wondered when he'd sat on the floor, and snapped his jaw shut with a click that was audible in the stunned silence that had overwhelmed the room.

"Ash?" Sarah said, her voice choked.

Ash O'Hara stood, poised on high heels that brought him within a few centimetres of Ray's height, and vibrating with silent fury.

Ray beamed at the room and set his coffee aside. "I think breakfast is in order -- my treat, of course. Thor, if you don't mind, I'll use the car and you can follow with Dust and Sarah." He held out an arm, which Ash took. He looked beautiful and ready to tear the arm out of its socket. "Shall we go, Ashley?"

"I think this is my hell."

"It's Ash's hell, Thor."

"It's everyone's hell," said Erik gloomily. He walked with Sarah and Dustin, several feet behind Ray and Ash. Erik was coming to regret his choice of positions, though. He had a distressingly clear view of Ash's leather-clad ass, as things stood, and it was not something he had ever wanted to see in any situation, particularly when it swayed distractingly.

Dustin frowned.

"Well, maybe not his," Erik admitted, "but only because he's a sick fuck -- if that wasn't already apparent -- and I think he feeds on human misery."

Sarah frowned. "Like a vampire?"

"A short, fat, sun-browned misery-vampire. Yes." Erik hunched his shoulders and tried to pretend he was interested in the storefronts they passed, so he would have something else to look at. The sudden appearance of a lingerie store was the opposite of helpful and Erik fixed his gaze firmly on his feet. "It explains a lot about every interaction I've ever had with Ray, ever."

Dustin tapped his chin pensively.

"Yeah, right," Erik snorted. "What Ray's doing to Ash is about as helpful to him as platform shoes would be to me."

Dustin shrugged and Sarah was either too preoccupied with the current dilemma to press for an explanation or too accustomed to ignoring Erik and Dustin's portion of a discussion. Under the circumstances, it was almost certainly the former.

"Maybe it'd be best if you went home, eh?" Erik suggested. "Not like there's anything anyone can do at this point. Ash's committed."

Sarah's eyebrows rose. "Why don't you go home?"

Admitting that he had accepted a bribe to witness the entire, horrible thing was unlikely to raise him in Sarah's eyes. Erik knew that. So he said nothing and shrugged his shoulders, hands digging deep into the pockets of his jeans, a response which was sure to create a more favourable impression.

Sarah look unimpressed by the not-answer, but she didn't press any further.

"Why don't you go home?" Erik asked at last, unable to stop himself.

Sarah looked ready to shoot Erik's response back at him, but, after a second, her tensed shoulders slumped. "Someone's gotta pick up the pieces, eh?"

"Eh," Erik agreed listless, only to be jerked to attention when he realized Ray and Ash's ass were no longer ahead of them. "Where --"

Dustin pointed and Erik and Sarah followed his finger. It was directed at the next store ahead of them, a tiny hole-in-the-wall shoe store.

"Shit fuck," said Erik intelligently. "What is that asshat thinking?"

Dustin's eyebrows rose.

"Will you drop that stupid ass idea? Where the fuck did you put your brain today?"

Sarah grabbed Erik and Dustin by their hands and pulled them after her. "He's probably thinking that just walking around downtown Saskatoon with Ash on the edge of killing him gets boring after a while. Let's go."

Erik barely had time to wish that this minor physical contact with a cute girl had occurred under happier circumstances before he was dragged into a store that may as well have been another world.

It wasn't a shoe store. It was a fucking shoe boutique. Erik could hardly be described as someone who was good with words and his experience with shopping were certainly limited, but he knew what a fucking shoe store was, and the pleasantly scented little hole-in-the-wall Ray had ducked into wasn't a store.

Erik sneezed.

There were low, fat black leather couches to lounge on which weighing the pros and cons of a certain kind of shoe versus another shoe, possibly with some trying on of said shoes, assuming the store hadn't run out of its scented footwash and silk wiping rags. The shoes themselves were elevated off glass shelves that surrounded full-length mirrors to Erik's right and left, as though each shoe had somehow been the winner of its own shoe race or shoe beauty contest.

The two people working in the temple of shoes deported themselves as though they were the priest and priestess of the shoe god. The priestess was tiny, barely taller than Ash and Sarah, although that was booster marginally by tiny heels -- not that it would help her against Ash at the moment. She had a halo of red hair, a short black skirt that looked positively demure when Erik's unhelpful mind compared her to Ash, and a flowing white shirt that was cut in such a way that it seemed to frame her cleavage.

The priestess looked putout, however. Possibly because the priest had abandoned her to wait on Ash and Ray.

Ray stood casually by one of the lounging seats with his hands clasped behind his back. He surveyed the shoe temple with a proprietorial air. Ash was sitting with frozen furry, his legs crossed demurely. The demureness was forced, Erik realized, by the shortness of the skirt, unless Ash wanted to give the priest, kneeling before him, an eyeful.

Erik scrunched his eyes shut in a desperate attempt to think of nothing and let Sarah lead him closer to the tableau of horror. When Ray's words pierced his brain, Erik knew he was closer than was safe.

"-- a few different things. Obviously, we're in no shoe emergency, but what girl can resist an excuse to expand her shoe collection with another pair or two?"

Ash looked incredibly pretty when his face was suffused with rage, the casual observer likely to confuse the sudden colouring for a girlish blush of embarrassment. The priest, his face rapt upon Ash, and barely hearing Ray, nodded dumb agreement.

"I was thinking a pair of flats might be in order," said Ray thoughtfully, rubbing his chin with one hand. Relief and slight hope dawned foolishly on Ash's face at these words, until Ray reached to squeeze his shoulders. "I know you're inclined to feel self-conscious about your height, Ashley --"

The relief vanished, replaced by pure hatred that did nothing to reduce how irresistibly alluring Ash looked.

"-- but I hadn't realized at the outset of the day how lovely it was going to be. In weather like this, it is impossible to resist the siren song of leisurely walking to the majority of our destinations of the day, and I do think you might find the excursion just a trifle easier without heels. Besides," Ray let his smile grow stupidly fond, "you know how I adore a diminutive woman."

Ash snapped. "Dammit, Fujimoto --"

Ray's smile grew sharp. He waved a hand, as though dismissing a repetition of an argument he'd heard many times before. "But, who am I to argue with your desires and preferences, dearest Ashley? You have made your opinion on heels plain so often, and I shouldn't try to override your aesthetic sensibilities."

"Indeed," said Ash tightly. He ground his teeth, clenching them shut on some invective or threat of bodily harm, and swallowing the words he wished to roar at Ray.

"You," Ray addressed the priest, "seem like a lad of excellent taste. I'm sure you can find a few things to delight my Ashley." His eyes gleamed with the promise of what Ash could face if he tried to break character again. "High heels, mind," he said as the priest stumbled to his feet. "We do feel there's no point to the things if they're only a few centimetres in length, so if you can find a variety in the proper size of significant height, do be sure to bring them. We're in no hurry, after all." Ray watched happily as the priest raced to a back room -- the shoe boudoir -- and the priestess followed, looking ready to give him a meal of her mind.

Erik grabbed Ray roughly by the shoulder and dragged him around to face away from Ash once the two temple dedicates were out of the way. "What are you doing, you idiot?"

Ray blinked up at Erik, nonplussed. "Buying shoes, Thor." His voice dropped to a whisper, "You see, this? Is a shoe store." He reached up to pat Erik's hand and pry his fingers loose in a matter-of-fact way. "Now, let go of me, there's a good boy."

"Ray, I know you won the bet fairly and all, but I really don't think it's fair of you to ask Ash to spend his own money on things, just so you can have a laugh. That's way out of line," said Sarah. She was frowning sternly, but her attention was focussed on Ray. She didn't allow herself to look in Ash's direction.

Ray looked shocked. "These accusations wound me, Sarah!"

More foolish relief was palpable from everyone in the small group. Sarah's frown relaxed. "So, you're not planning to --"

"A gentleman would never ask a lady to pay for products to enhance her beauty when he could make a gift of it."

Everyone winced and Ash's voice rose threateningly from the couch. "Fujimoto --"

"Ah!" Ray spun around. "Our aide's adventured to the hidden chamber appears to be a success!"

The priest was returning, his arms full of a daunting number of boxes. His sullen companion was nowhere in sight, having apparently chosen to remain in the shoe boudoir and sulk instead of watching her strapping and handsome friend pant with unconcealed lust over Ash.

"I knew this was an establishment of the highest calibre the moment I set eyes on it," said Ray, surveying the boxes that the priest set before Ash with wicked approval. "Did I not say as much when you were lamenting the fact that most shoe stores of high calibre were distressingly stingy when it came to stocking attractive items in your size, dearest Ashley?"

"Oh, yes, Ray," Ash said flatly, surveying the boxes before him like a condemned man.

Silently, Erik, Sarah, and Dustin all sank into seats near Ash. Erik perched on the edge of his. His knees were uncomfortable high because of the lowness of the couch, but he was prepared to flee at a moment's notice.

The priest opened the first box, kneeling once more before Ash, and the parade of elegant horror began.

The priest gallantly slid each shoe and sandal onto Ash's foot himself, trying, without success, to get a look up Ash's skirt each time Ash had to uncross and re-cross his legs. Ray gleefully played the part of the boyfriend so enraptured with his girlfriend's beauty that he was oblivious to the lecherous gazes of other men. Part of his happy boyfriend routine involved making Ash stand up, walk around, and pose before a long mirror in each pair of shoes. Erik peeked through his fingers to watch in horror throughout the entire thing. The shoe priest was so captivated by the view that Erik's behaviour, strange in the presence of the most beautiful girl in the world, didn't even register.

Forty minutes, six pairs of shoes, and two pairs of sandals later, Ray called a halt to the parade of footwear. "Those are perfect!" he declared as Ash stood, glaring balefully at his reflection, poised on the latest pair of heels. "You must allow me to buy them for you."

A muscle in Ash's jaw jumped but he managed a restrained, "Oh, no, Ray, I couldn't let you do that for me."

"Nonsense! I'd be a fool not to! Your legs look like those of a goddess in them. Doesn't she look exquisite?" he asked of the priest, who nodded mutely, wiping a bit of drool from the corner of his mouth.

"Besides," Ray said, moving to stand by Ash and lightly squeezing his arm, "they make you almost exactly as tall as I am."

Through his fingers, Erik could tell that Ray wasn't exaggerating. The pair of heels Ash had on were even higher than the original pair, the top of Ash's head less than a finger width from the top of Ray's. Keeping his hands locked in place, he tipped his head to boggle at the sight and wonder how Ash was managing to stay upright, let alone so perfectly posed and balanced in shoes that had made him appear almost half a foot taller.

"Oh," Ash said flatly, "so they do."

"I know what a weakness you have for stilettos that tower so and I can't deny you a thing." Ray waved at the priest, "We'll take them. No," he held up a hand as the priest eagerly stumbled forward, "don't bother packing them up. I can see my Ashley is delighted by the prospect of displaying them to the world immediately."

"Thrilled," Ash deadpanned, his dull tones doing nothing to distract the priest from Ash's taut, stocking-covered legs.

Erik closed his fingers and never wanted to look at anything ever again. He wondered if Dustin would help stab his eyes out if he asked.

"Exquisite," he heard Ray murmur, his voice dripping appreciation, "just exquisite."

Erik might have remained, hunched miserably on the couch, had his arms not been seized by Sarah and Dustin. They steered him gently -- out of the store, presumably, although Erik refused to open his to verify this.

At least, he thought desperately, now that Ray had set the tone for the day, and shown Ash what would be in store for him if he openly protested Ray's bizarre torture, things could hardly get worse.

"This isn't going to end well," Erik predicted gloomily. He stood, hunched and miserably out of place, in a store that was fitting with Ray's chosen themes of the day: elegant, trendy, and expensive. This one was packed to the rafters with clothes that Ray was happily making Ash model for the enjoyment of himself and the clerk who couldn't have been pried from the scene with a crowbar.

Currently, Ash was strutting before Ray and the clerk in traumatically tight white pants that ended abruptly at mid-calve level and a pink tube top. No one seemed to notice -- or if they did, they didn't care -- that Ash didn't fill the top out in the slightest.

"Ash can't kill him," said Sarah. She stood behind Erik with her arms crossed, staring out at the street. "Well, he could. But he won't."

"Some sort of evening wear, I think," said Ray, his voice a purr. "You'd look simply smashing in that glittery little red number, Ashley dear." The clerk was waved away to fetch a version of the garment in Ash's size.

When the clerk's back was turned, Ash rounded on Ray. "You --"

"Of course, I know nothing here is quite perfect and you're wanting something to dazzle everyone at the rehearsal, but it's an amusing diversion before lunch. I'll give the seamstress a call before we go -- I imagine I can convince her to see you on short notice." Ray reached out to take Ash's hands in his, patting the topmost one fondly. "As you know, Ashley, I can be very persuasive."

"Oh, yes," said Ash tightly, yanking his hands free from Ray's grasp and strutting furiously after the clerk, towards the changing room, to attire himself in the next garment of humiliation.

Dustin's eyebrows rose.

"He probably won't kill Ray," Sarah corrected herself unhappily.

"No matter how pissed off he gets, I think he's smart enough not to try and kill Ray, or do anything really serious that'd attract the law's attention. But still, man, even if Ash sucks up whatever Ash throws at him for the entire fucking day, all bets are off when the day's over. Don't think there's a fucking thing in the world that'll save Ray then."

"After this? I think he deserves what he gets."

"Well, yeah," said Erik. He tried to blink sparkles and confusion out of his eyes when Ash returned in the distressingly slinky and seductive little red dress. He rubbed the last of the shimmer out of his eyes with a finger and looked the other way. "Ash didn't have to take the bet, though," he blurted and knew he had just doomed any lingering, impossible chance he might have had.

Sarah frowned. "Ray offered him more money than anyone could earn in a summer. Are you saying you wouldn't have jumped at a chance like that?"

Erik shook his head, frantic in his denial.

"Bullshit."

"I have a sense of self-preservation," Erik muttered defensively. "It's like a well-tuned instrument by this point. I can think of nothing more dangerous or terrifying than making any kind of wager with Ray. No matter what happens, he'll win."

Dustin's eyes narrowed.

"Shut up," Erik suggest sulkily.

"Ash is going to kick his ass when the day's over, if not sooner."

"Maybe. Probably. But I'd bet you anything that Ray's got something up his sleeve. Fucker always does."

"You give him too much credit, Thor."

"And Ash gives him too little; look where that got him."

Erik making an accurate point was a momentous occasion that visibly unsettled Sarah. "Well, as long as the cops don't show up," she said, finally.

"That'd be nice," agreed Erik, wondering how some people could not only manage optimism, but optimism in the face of all facts, logic, reality, and Ray.

Dustin cleared his throat.

"Oh?" Erik reluctantly refocused his attention on Ash, who was storming off again. "It's possible, I guess. Not like we can just hang out here all day."

Sarah looked at her watch. "We've been here for almost an hour. They must be almost done."

Ash returned, but not in the mini-skirt and blouse he'd started the day in. The little red dress had been exchanged for a different dress, this one far more modest. The skirt was full and reached Ash's knees, the sort of thing that would billow attractively if there was a slight breeze. Ray proved Erik's unspoken observation by saying or doing something that resulting in Ash pirouetting in front of him. When Ash stopped and, prompted by Ray's encouraging/commanding gestures, smoothing the dress' skirt back into some semblance of order, Ash looked attractively dishevelled.

Erik swallowed. "Almost done, but not quite. Wrong again, Dustin."

Dustin shrugged.

"Are those flowers?" Erik asked after a moment of intense but purely scientific -- he'd swear it on anything anyone cared to name -- scrutiny

"Oh, God," Sarah muttered, putting her hands over her face.

Pulled by a curiosity likely to prove fatal, Erik edged closer. The dress was white but the wind-friendly skirt was dotted with tiny pink rosebuds and green leaves. The puffed sleeves and the pink ribbon -- knotting, Erik could see, into a bow when Ray made Ash spin again -- around Ash's impossibly slim waist completed the picture of some kind of china figurine with a hint of inappropriate sexiness. Cautiously, Erik took a few backwards steps, retreating to a safe distance once more.

"I don't know which is worse," Erik whispered so Ash wouldn't overhear. Hoping Ray wouldn't overhead was futile. He would probably know what Erik was talking about if Erik was outside and the door was shut.

Sarah rubbed her forehead. "I don't really want to talk about this in detail sufficient to distinguish which is worse, Thor."

"Do you think Ray's recording any of this for posterity?"

Dustin shrugged.

"Not if he has any sense of self-preservation," Sarah said.

There was a pause and Erik turned to look at Sarah as she turned to look at him. "Shit!"

"I bet he has a camera in his cell phone, the fucker." Erik shot a dark look at the back of Ray's head, which unfortunately brought Ash back into his line of sight, although that furiously pristine figure was once more marching back to the dressing room.

"Maybe he's been too preoccupied to think of it."

Dustin shook his head.

Erik had to agree. "The man is a fucking elephant, especially when someone else's pain and suffering is involved."

Sarah rubbed her face and pushed her hair back, the picture of defeat. "We shouldn't have let discomfort keep us at a distance. Damn cowardice on our part."

"Like us hovering right over Ray's shoulder would make him exercise some kind of self-censorship. It would probably just make him more likely to do something idiotic."

Sarah brightened. "That's true."

"Besides, he's a ninja. He probably thinks he has a camera in his tongue."

The faint smile Sarah gave in response to that bit of inanity was almost worth it.

Dustin straightened from his habitual slouch, putting Erik on alert. He peered over his shoulder. Ash was back, once more in the blouse-and-miniskirt combo, and Ray was getting to his feet, gallantly offering Ash his arm. Ash took it with a sick smile, but Ray's smile didn't waiver. He strode proudly -- to the door, not the till.

"Thank God," Sarah breathed. She tried to compose herself, but froze when Ray pulled the feared cell phone from his pocket.

Ray fiddled with the phone for a minute, but there seemed to be no gloating, lingering contemplation of digitally captured images, not that this proved anything definitive. Ray simply pressed a few more buttons, and then used the phone for its intended purpose, pausing before the door and moving his arm to wrap chastely around Ash's shoulders. He smiled indulgently at the group, as if to say "Just a minute, I have to deal with a little something, sorry for the interruption."

"Hello?" Ray's attention focussed on the phone. "Very well, thank you. My name is Fujimoto" Ray was silent for a minute, tilting his head to one side. "Raymund Fujimoto." Another pause. "F-u-j -- look, never mind, it's of no importance. I imagine you've lost the recording of my appointment." There was another pause and Ray rolled his eyes to show what he thought of this service. "No, the appointment wasn't for me, it was for my fiancé. She was to come by to have her measurements taken and try on a few things."

Ash choked.

Ray frowned. "This is dreadfully inconvenient for me, you know. I made that appointment months ago."

Erik's eyebrows rose. He shared a look with Dustin, who shook his head. Under the circumstances, Dustin was probably right, this time.

"I suppose that could cause you to misplace or lose appointments, but it's dreadfully unprofessional of you." Ray rubbed Ash's shoulder in unasked for consolation. "I could always take my business elsewhere. I'm a very busy man, you know."

The unspoken "I'm a very rich man" hung in the air, so heavy even the poor unfortunate Ray was talking to must have heard it.

"I suppose I might reconsider if you could find time for us today around, oh, 1:30 or so. Not what we had planned, of course, but a tolerable alternative that I'm sure would be more than sufficient for all of us." Ray nodded several times, making little positive notices into the phone until some agreement must have been reached, because he smiled brightly and said, "Wonderful. Lovely speaking to you. So glad we were able to reach a mutually satisfactory agreement. We'll be there at 1:30 on the dot. Do have a good day."

Ray snapped his cell phone shut, pocketed it, and smiled effusively at his dumbstruck audience. "Now, who's for lunch?"

In a spasm of partially purchased disloyalty, Erik thought the food sitting lumpishly in his stomach would have been better than his dad's if it weren't for the aforementioned lump properties given to it by pure terror. Erik drank the last of the expensive wine like it was water and kept his eyes fixed on the sane painting of a baby moose that he'd been looking at for the past half-hour. He'd watched horror movies that kindled his appetite more than Ray's hell lunch.

Ray had spent the entire meal -- over an hour -- dominating the conversation with all manner of insanity and lies by virtue of being the only person capable of saying more than three words every ten minutes or so. He handled the waiter with typical Ray arrogance and had ordered enough alcohol to intoxicate an elephant, in addition to enough rich food to feed a very fat army. He'd cheerfully ordered for Ash, who was probably now starving after only having been given a small salad, devoid of croutons, cheese, meat, or dressing -- Ashley was very conscious of her weight. Ray also hadn't seized the opportunity to get Ash drunk, instead choosing the more insidious route of providing Ash with ice water and lemon, managing to imply without every saying anything so crude and blunt that the lovely Ashley had to be considerate of the baby.

If Ray really were a ninja, game designers could definitely use a few pointers on how to make their mysterious ninja characters truly terrifying.

"Nothing like a good meal to give one energy for the remainder of the day," said Ray, beaming benevolently at Ash over his wine glass.

"Like anyone could move after eating all that," said Sarah, slouching in her chair and looking pained, one hand caressing her stomach.

"Like anyone but you had enough of an appetite to eat anything," said Erik, pushing the remains of his meal around the plate with a fork.

"Like some of us were given anything to eat," said Ash, staring with something like lust at the remains of Erik's steak.

Dustin traced a finger along the rim of his wine glass.

"The true tragedy -- one from a long list, mind -- of your country is that its people grew too accustomed to the hardships of colonizing and living on the frontier, and have forgotten how to enjoy the most basic of life's pleasures," Ray said with a sigh. "At times you are downright Spartan. But never fear, Ashley dear. Once we're married and living in Italy, you shall have plenty of opportunities to become accustomed to the finer things in life, as your dazzling beauty has always destined you for." He patted Ash's hand over the table and gave it a little squeeze.

"Joy." Ash, Erik suspected, would not appreciate knowing that on him, even nausea looked hot.

"As long as we're in the area of that happy topic, I suppose now is an appropriate moment to sadly inform you, my friends, that we must part company for a time." Ray lifted a hand, summoning the waiter with the bill. Actual cash was produced, something which was barely a blip on Erik's radar anymore, and slipped without comment back to the waiter, enclosed in the little black ledged to keep prying eyes from seeing it and mentally calculating what else Ray might be carrying in his wallet. The waiter, in a burst of sensibility and Ray-suspicion that made Erik warm to instantly, peeked at the money and mentally calculated the total in case Ray was a master of slight of hand.

Then the waiter's eyes, previously fixed in a position of languid boredom, bugged out with an intensity that would make a cartoon character jealous. He managed a barely coherent word of thanks in Ray's direction, wished everyone a good day, and staggered off to collar another waiter. From his suddenly animated gestures, he was eager to convey the story of his impossible good fortune.

Ash's eyes had narrowed at Ray's announcement and he wrapped his fingers around a nearby fork.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," said Sarah cautiously.

"I'm not sure the city will stay standing for very long if we let you guys out of our sight," said Erik, although presented with the possibility of temporary release from the moving hell Ray had created, he had to wonder how much he liked Saskatoon, really.

"Now, I know you've all been having a lovely day in my always charming company -- and Ashley's, of course -- but I really must insist that we be given a few hours to ourselves. There are certain subjects, certain errands that a young couple must do on their own, without the companionship of their dearest friends. It is only proper."

There was no hateful uttering of Ray's name from Ash, or low-voiced curses. The hand clutching the fork simply shot out, swift and deadly, aiming for Ray's throat.

Sarah barely had time to gasp and tell Ash not to do it before it was all over.

Somehow, the fork had gone from nearly puncturing Ray's neck to vibrating harmlessly in the ceiling.

Ray flicked an imaginary speck of dust from his sleeve and smiled benignly at the sunned Ash. "Now, as I was saying, I believe Ashley and I need some time alone to deal with a few things. It may take longer than I'd originally thought, so let's say you meet us outside the aesthetician's on 4th avenue in, oh, three hours. I'm sure you'll be able to find something to keep you all amused during that time."

There was only one safe place to wait for Ray and Ash to finish whatever diabolic plans Ray had that required a modicum of privacy. After much debate, they all managed to agree that Ray was unlikely to drag Ash into the Midtown Plaza's inherently retro arcade. Ray's mood for the day seemed to have settled on "pretentious", so he was unlikely to set foot in something as low class as a mall; even if he did, Ash had willingly, if grumpily, entered arcades before. His being in a miniskirt was unlikely to provide that much more entertainment.

Sarah monopolized the latest import, Ribbon Drivel, chewing the inside of her chew and not tearing her eyes away from the screen to look at either Dustin or Erik. Dustin was counting something Erik couldn't be bothered to notice, his lips moving silently. Erik settled for grumpily slouching against the Ribbon Drivel machine, casting the occasional wistful glance at the guy playing Parasite.

The arcade was dark and scarcely populated. Nothing was stopping Erik from slipping away and finding something to amuse himself, but he felt compelled to stay with Sarah and Dustin. If there was some movement to dessert Ray or start a Ray rebellion of some sort, Erik wanted to be in on it.

"This is idiotic," Sarah said at last, releasing her death-grip on Ribbon Drivel's controls.

"Well, I think it's too late to do anything now. We don't even know where they are," said Erik, adjusting his slouch so he wouldn't have to look at Dustin's informative raised eyebrow.

"I meant the game," said Sarah sharply. "I don't think the Japanese have ever hit on a more appropriate English title for something."

"Oh," said Erik. So much for the rebellion.

Sarah's hand was suddenly on Erik's arm. She tugged him away from his comfortable slouch until he was standing almost upright. "You play for a while," she suggested. It was the sort of suggestion Erik didn’t' think it would be prudent to argue with. "It seems more like your sort of thing anyway."

Erik made a face. "Thanks for that bit of flattery, Sarah."

Sarah shrugged, unrepentant, and took up the side of the game that Erik had vacated, although she actually position herself so she could watch the game, her elbows propped on the edge of the control panel and her chin resting on her hands. She was not, Erik realized unhappily, as distracting as Ash's presence would have been, but he tried to focus on the disdained game anyway.

Ribbon Drivel was weirdly RPG-like for an arcade game, which explained Sarah's dismissal of it. Erik had been unfortunately aware of Sarah's opinions on RPGs for some time. In light of the fact that the choice of controlled characters were a twelve-year-old girl in a pink confection of a dress with a high cheerleader ponytail, an impossibly large-breasted sixteen-year-old with too much hair in a fetishized schoolgirl outfit, and a ten-year-old dressed like a maid with cat ears and fairy wings, Erik thought describing the game as his sort of thing was one of the worst insults he had ever received from someone who wasn't Ray, Collin, Aunt Janet, his Glendower grandparents, or any girl he had ever asked out on a date.

Erik chose the girl in pink, not because she was the least emasculating, something he thought impossible with Ribbon Drivel, but because she was the default character and going with the default character seemed preferable to showing some kind of preference.

Even if the girl -- inexplicably named "Forgive" -- did seem to use a sparkling gymnast's baton with foot after foot of streaming pink ribbon attached to either end.

"What the fuck was he thinking?" Erik asked anyone who might be listening as he moved the surprisingly detailed pixels that were Forgive onto the world map.

"I wish I knew. It doesn’t seem to be in his best interests, in the long run, to do something like that to Ash. We all have to be back here in the fall, and it's not like campus is so big we'll never bump into each other again, especially with Ash living with Dustin and Bob, and Dustin being your best friend. Unless he's planning to transfer schools. Or Dustin's planning to move or something."

"Mm, no," said Erik after flicking his gaze away from the game long enough to make eye-contact with Dustin. Then he quickly turned his attention back to the game. Forgive had just fallen into her first random battle, which resolved into something more like a 2D fighter than an RPG, with Forgive wobbling on one side of the screen, her ponytail bobbing, the folds of her skirt rustling, and her breasts bouncing -- stupid graphics -- and a small -- pink, naturally -- gelatinous blob with googly eyes and a happy smile on the other. "I was talking about whatever idiot paid good money to import this piece of shit, though."

Sarah wrinkled her nose at the game as Erik shot off Forgive's long-range attack, which involved spinning and firing a stream of sparkling, bubble-like hearts, which somehow melted the pink slime. "Maybe this was Ray's idea, too."

Despite the way the day had been up until that point, and the way it would be when they left the arcade to meet up with Ray and Ash on 4th avenue, Erik couldn't help smiling. He aimed Forgive in the direction of the village just visible on the corner of the map and moved her forward. "Yeah. Maybe."

"I'm going to regret that come laundry day." Erik flexed his hands, trying to work out the Ribbon Drivel induced cramps.

Sarah shook her head. "You're being overdramatic, Thor. You're the only person I know who seems to have a portal to the world of infinite quarters in his pants."

"Only because the people at work tip crap," Erik sighed. A brief glance at a street sign revealed that they were approaching the return to horror, which subdued his mood further.

"I think this is the place." Sarah stood on her tiptoes and squinted at the tiny sign above the door. The storefront was opaque and mysteriously uninformative as to what might be on the other side of the glass. "Can't tell if they're still in there, though."

Erik sat on a convenient bench that was only slightly sticky. "They're in there. They just aren't done. If they were, they'd be waiting out here. Ray wouldn't risk losing us, after all. We should probably just be glad we can't see inside. We'll be finding out all about it too fucking soon what they've been up to."

Sarah had to concede this point and sat down on the only part of the bench that wasn't sticky. Dustin remained standing, wandering vaguely along the sidewalk and getting in the way of late-afternoon shoppers as he inspected cracks in the cement. Sarah watched him for a few minutes, silently trying to figure out what he was doing, as though he were some sort of human logic puzzle, before she gave up. Twisting in her seat, she watched the congested traffic over her should, instead of watching the door to the hard to read aesthetician's. That job fell, unasked, to Erik, who slouched down so far that his head was nearly level with Sarah's. He kept his eyes pinned to the door like a fatalistic hawk. Whatever happened, Erik didn't want to be surprised.

Then the door opened.

Erik choked, tugged insistently on Sarah's sleeve, lost his grip, and fell off the bench with an audible and painful smack.

Sarah looked. "My God," she breathed -- stunned, horrified, amazed, Erik couldn't tell.

"Oh, hardly that," said Ray with a modest smile. A small black plastic bag swung from one hand, kept carefully out of Ash's reach.

"Got that right," said Ash in the voice of one who's been completely defeated.

Ash looked different, although the word was inadequate. It wasn't just the fact that Ash appeared to have given up on murdering Ray. Ash's already bombshell appearance seemed to have been multiplied. Dragging himself to his feet and rubbing his ass, Erik tried to get a better look without Ash -- or anyone else -- noticing.

"Are you wearing makeup?" Erik asked before his brain could intervene.

Ash pursed impossibly rosy lips. "Yes," he said discouragingly.

Ray smiled, wrapping an arm around Ash's waist and squeezing. "Dear Ashley has just been so wonderfully behaved all day that I thought she could do with a reward. A makeover seemed like just the thing to relax her after all that strenuous shopping and looking at rings and getting fitted for her wedding dress, although everyone agreed that it was quite a challenge to make her yet more beautiful."

"Yes," Ash confirmed dully. He was going to great lengths to avoid making eye contact with anyone.

"Yet somehow, they managed! The women who work here are geniuses! Worth every penny!"

Dangerously close inspection revealed that Ray must have paid for everything imaginable to be done to the defeated Ash. He was wearing blush to heighten his already glowing complexion, mascara that made his long, thick eyelashes look even more so, eye shadow, and, when he lifted a hand to push a bit of hair out of his eyes, it was obvious that a manicure with pink nail polish had also been provided. Ash's normally shaggy hair had been cut, too, styled and fluffed and feathered and highlighted to something inarguably feminine.

Ash looked like a glamorous movie starlet.

Ray looked smug.

They all began the slow trek back to where the cars had been parked, with everyone but Ray uncomfortably giving Ash space. Inviting collisions with people, posts, and cars, Erik kept his eyes firmly on the clouds.

"Oh, my will you look at the time!"

"Is it midnight yet?" Ash asked.

"Ah, such a sense of humour!" Ray laughed. "Not hardly, my dear Ashley. But, you've been such a sweetheart about this whole thing that I think we'll just do one more thing before we bring an official end to the day. You do have an early flight, after all. What do you think of that, sweetheart?"

"Wonderful," said Ash flatly. Here was clearly a man who, sensibly, put no faith in any promises that Ray might issue that pain and suffering would soon end.

"So," Ray pulled out his wallet and dug out a fist full of bills, all hundreds, "what I want you to do, most lovely of Ashleys, is to go forth into the world and, staying in character, buy me a case of Sky Trail beer." He opened Ash's purse, pulled out Ash's tiny wallet, and tucked the money inside. "When you're done, you meet us back at King Place."

"And how'm I supposed to get to an LB or back to your place if you're taking the cars and Thor with you?"

"Oh, I'm sure you can use that delightful brain of yours and your feminine wiles to think of something." Ray patted Ash's hand and released him. "Now, run along, there's a love."

Pausing only to shoot a dully irritated look at Ray from large, beautiful eyes, Ash turned sharply on his heels and strutted off with tiny, quick steps to begin his quest.

Erik swallowed. "Sky Trail? Are you insane? There's maybe, if you're lucky, one store in the whole fucking city that sells the stuff."

"Well, it would hardly be much of a quest if it were easy."

"I suppose he'll probably appreciate the privacy," said Sarah uncertainly.

"Oh, maybe," said Ray dismissively, Ash's feelings evidently not having been a factor in his decision.

They had walked another block when a cab pulled up and Ray opened the back door, hopping in without an explanation.

Erik grabbed the cab door before it shut. "What are you doing, Ray?"

Ray blinked innocently, peering out at everyone. "Oh, didn't I mention? Family matters are calling me back to Ottawa for a short while. I should be back in a week or two. My flight leaves in a few hours."

"You're leaving?"

"Yes, Thor."

"What about Ash?"

"Well," said Ray, prying Erik's fingers one by one from the door as he spoke, "assuming he comes back from his little quest, you tell him to keep the change and leave his clothing folded nicely on my bed. I'll see him in the fall, I suppose." Erik's hand removed from harm's way, Ray slammed the door with a cheerful cry of, "Enjoy the beer!"

"Well," said Erik, watching the cab drive away, "I told you he had a plan."

They sat, frozen with terror, on the couch in apartment 306, waiting for the phone to buzz. Erik was trying to figure out which parts of the city, if any, would still be standing. Sarah was picking loose threads out of the couch. Even Dustin was nervously drumming his finger on his leg and staring at the ceiling.

It was almost nine when the phone buzzed. Erik stared gloomily at the door and made no move to get up. "He's going to be pissed, even more than he would have been if Ray was here."

"Yeah," Sarah agreed softly, twisting the latest thread between her fingers.

"Maybe if we just ... didn't let him in?" Erik suggested weakly.

"That's stupid," said Sarah. "I'll let him in." She stood up and went to the phone, pressing the button that unlocked the security doors that probably wouldn't have offered that much protection from a pissed off Ash O'Hara.

There was a knock on the door far too soon.

Sarah let Ash in, since Erik was still glued to the couch.

Ash hadn't seized the escape from Ray as a chance to change, probably guessing that Ray would know and find some way to extend the torture if he did. Still attired in the miniskirt and heels, Ash dumped the case of Sky Trail on the ground, the bottles clanking, and glared at the room, avoiding Sarah's eyes. "Where's Ray?"

Erik swallowed and stood shakily. "He, uh, he's on his way to Ottawa."

"What?"

"He, uh, he had a flight to, um, to Ottawa to catch, so, uh, he, um, left." Erik tried to remain upright in the face of gloriously furious starlet stalking towards him with murder in his eyes. "He, um, said you could keep whatever money you had left, and, uh, leave the clothes, and, and stuff on his bed ..."

Erik got no further because Ash nailed him in the stomach with such intensity that it was clear Ash had decided Ray's roommate would make a suitable substitute in the absence of the real thing. Erik wobbled, fell to his knees, and threw up the expensive meals Ray had brought for him.

Sarah winced at Erik's prone form. "Ash ..."

Ash said nothing. He certainly didn’t' apologize. He simply stormed to the bedroom and slammed the door.

Erik lay on the floor, whimpering, and was nearly crushed by Ash's foot when he emerged from the bedroom. Ash had changed back into his own clothes, but the makeup, the manicure, and the new haircut remained. Ash looked like nothing so much as a girl who'd thrown on her boyfriend's clothes after misplacing her own during a particularly passionate night.

Ash bent down so his angry face was near Erik's. "You tell your lunatic fucker of a roommate that he is fucking dead when I see him again, you hear me?"

Erik whimpered agreement.

Deciding either that Erik had suffered enough -- unlikely -- or that removing the makeup and washing the product out of his hair were far more pressing concerns, Ash stormed out of the apartment. Sarah looked over her shoulder, mouthed an apology, and ran to catch up with Ash before he tried to punch King Place itself into submission.

"There's no fucking justice in this world," Erik moaned into the carpet, hugging his stomach.

Dustin nodded sympathetic agreement and pulled Erik up by his elbow. He steered his friend gently in the direction of the shower to wash off the vomit that had dripped down his shirt.