Don't look at him.

Netta felt the very real weight of the arm on her shoulder. As soon as she felt it, she then became aware of a smell that she had believed that she had all but forgotten about.

A fresh smell of moss, covering some deeper, more pungent smell of decay. The smell of the deep woods, where humans felt a natural fear of treading through.

She felt Its stretch, that arm closing further on her. When It spoke, she could feel the rumble of Its voice from Its chest.

"It's been a while, hasn't it, Netta?" When she didn't answer, It continued, saying, "Why, yes, it has been, Mister Big Scary Monster, it has been a long, long long time since we've last seen each other." "Did you miss me, my dear, dear friend?" "Oh, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you at night." It paused, then in an irritated voice, It said, "What, cat got your tongue? Don't believe it's really me?"

It forced her forward with one sweep of Its arm, then bent down so that It was face to face with her.

For a moment, she was thrown off when she did not recognize his - Its - face. The voice was still the same – that deep, almost primal rumble.

This was no imaginary friend – Netta has always believed, if she had made an imaginary friend for herself, she would have created someone less – monstrous – than this "man" was. His face was not even the one that she remembered as belonging to that voice.

Since when did he have that perfectly kept blond hair, those – purple? - eyes? He was, in spite of his already great enough height, shorter than he had been previously. It still didn't make him any less of a tall - taller than her - presence.

And that face – an unfamiliar face. It was as if he had chosen it from some earlier time period when men's faces possessed a sort of soft, masculine character.

Showing her age, Netta's first thought was – I'm looking at James Dean.

And, no one else could see him. Well, It.

Netta looked down quickly, feeling a gasp tearing out of her.

Its chuckle, low and slow, rumbled against her. "You like this, don't you? You like this new face I made for myself?"

Netta couldn't resist it – or stop herself from talking out loud. "Same face you keep when talking to that little girl?" She, of course, immediately regretted talking aloud. Talking to yourself in public was a steadfast way of being noticed.

To make it worse, she never could win an argument against him.

She knew that It had gotten what It had wanted all along, heard it in Its triumphant laugh.

"Oh, no, I'm still a pretty good hand at channeling my inner child." Hearing It mention Its child's form made Netta flinch in unexpected memory. "You haven't made it easy to get to you, you know. I bet you're wondering how I side-stepped the curse you laid on me. The matter of that banishment." When Netta, now deciding that she had learned her lesson with talking, kept quiet, It kept going. "Well, it involved a lot of jumping from Witch to Witch, when their auras flared up enough for me to recognize them as such. You – you've camouflaged yours so well that I hardly could find it, even when I was right next to you. On top of you, you might say." Again Netta made a point of not saying anything. He sighed. "How were the dreams? I wanted you to be sure that you were never far from my mind -"

"How many Witches did you screw?" Even she was surprised when she said it - she wished, especially, that she could take back the biting hostility that she could hear in her own voice.

She could feel Its surprise in the silence. Then, irritatingly, It laughed. "You sound... almost jealous. You're not jealous, are you? Mmm..." It seemed to purr, the sound rumbling down her spine. "You should know that you're the only girl for me. You locked me out for over a decade now, and I've still come back just for you."

My god, how many women has he terrorized – just to get revenge on me? She wanted, badly, to ask him, but she didn't dare say anything more.

She thought that she could already feel the eyes on the subway on her, imagined what she must look like to all of these people.

She bit the inside of her cheek and felt as her foot began to tap a mad rhythm that she could not stop.

He - It - continued talking, so close to her that she thought that she could feel Its breath on her – could smell it. "Call me crazy, but it almost seems as though you're not excited to see me." He huffed, then his voice turned bright. "No matter, though. Cousin Ash is here for a visit, and he's going to work very hard at making it hard to envision how you've ever survived without him."

When she looked up at the panel to the right that described what station they were approaching, Netta felt a flush of relief beat on her.

She rushed to her feet so quickly that she nearly tripped on someone's feet, shoving past a man holding onto the grab pole to her right to stop herself from face planting.

As she made a dash for the doors, she could hear Its laughter as it boomed through the enclosed space of the car.

She didn't get far before encountering It again. She was rounding on her way to going up the cement steps that brought her out from the underground when she saw It sat on the wide banister. Sat so that his feet – clad in those Beatles-riffic Chelsea boots that It had always held a professed, vain affection for - were pressed against the column, he looked carefree. The effect was made only moreso by his clothes.

She hadn't noticed them before, the buttoned, blue linen shirt that was opened to well below Its chest (he's hairless now, there's another difference) and left untucked out of Its holed, faded blue jeans that looked effortlessly hip.

She tried to walk past It, and It was quiet. She was halfway up the steps when It called out to her, so loudly that it made her jump in shock.

"Hey, Netta, where are you taking me today? We're going to be stuck to each other for a good twenty four hours, right, until you can make me go away?" It yelled even louder then, bellowing at her retreating back. "Please tell me that it's some place where the job description requires you removing vast amounts of clothing, like a strip club or a place where they package cocaine."

Walking in the driving snow, once above ground, she was quickly re-acquainted with the experience of walking with the non-human. While she was miserable for a scarf as the wind and snow bit into her face, the creature that looked like a human was walking with Its hands in Its pockets. It hummed as he walked next to her, bobbing merrily.

Netta looked around, making certain that any other pedestrians on the street were too far way from her – and impeded by the wind to overhear her.

She turned to glare at It, then spat out, "Any reason why you're here? Because this is some really bad timing, even for you."

It cut Its humming off abruptly, turning to give her a grin. "Ooh, something happening?"

"No." She turned away. It was easy enough to lie to someone when you didn't respect them – but it was still a trouble to look at them while you did it.

It chuckled. "Well, if you're gonna lie to me, I guess there's no reason to look in your pocket, is there?"

She jerked, turning on It. "You didn't -"

It held the card up, the look of a magician that had just confounded his audience on Its face. "Handsy hands are better than just for fun. I was always good at keeping you honest." It turned away from her and seemed to ponder the business card.

Netta rounded on It, facing the creature. Her hands were reaching, trying to get ahold of Its arms. "Give – that back -"

It seemed to have finished reading the front, then It flipped the card over. "Uh-uh -" It flipped the card towards her, leaving Netta to scrabble to get a hold of it before it fell into the snow.

She shoved it back in her pocket, indignation burning through her.

"So, you miss home, too. Well, when's the road trip?"

She stared at It, so suddenly struck by the thought that It wanted to go – there – of all places with her - that all fear of public humiliation disappeared.

She jabbed her finger at that purposefully, inhumanely – handsome face. "You had no right to do that, and I will be going nowhere with you."

It looked down at her, skepticism in his heavy-lidded eyes. "You're taking me to your work right now. That is where you're going right now, to your Human job?" When Netta spun on her heel and started to walk away, It called after her. "I mean, I'm going to be stuck to you, and I plan to go and see if you can introduce me to the folks this time."

Netta, unable to not retort to that assurance, whipped back around. "Like hell you're sticking around once the twenty-four hours is up."

It rose Its arms up and gave her an almost carefree, apologetic smile. "Hey, need I point out that you called out for me three times on that train. It was the only way that I could have ever appeared to you." It scoffed. "Forgive me, I don't plan to make it easy to forget about me. I promise you right now, Netta, that we're going to get close – real close – from now on. Just admit it -" It gave her a lopsided, almost apologetic grin. "-you need me."

She stared at It – and, maybe it was because Its face was unlike angular, rough man that she had once known It as, and Its hair was light and not dark, but Netta found it easy to turn her back on It.

It shouted after her, "Hey! You keep avoiding me, this is going to get real nasty real fast. You're going to regret not giving this Human shit up when I gave you a chance to."

In spite of the way that she squared her shoulders as she trudged through the ankle-deep snow, Netta felt a twist of fear in her as she envisioned his threat becoming true.