Chance sat in the rental car in the middle of the empty lot. Around the perimeter, factories that were bustling with trucks and workers during the day, stood dark and empty of life. A few low wattage lamps surrounded the lot, and beyond the aura from the city melted up into the night sky. An early arrival had assured him that, at least for now, he was alone. It seemed an eternity and yet somehow also, yesterday, since he was here last for a meeting with Doc Regan.

He checked his watch and smiled grimly as the headlights of a vehicle cut a swatch across the cinder lot. The car slowed and coasted to a stop next to his driver's window. In the light of the dashboard, Chase could see the lined features of Emile Regan, so many years his employer handler.

He lowered his window and waited while Doc did the same. "On time, as usual."

"And you're here first - as usual." Doc replied.

"You broke your word, Doc." Chase stated, his eyes flitting about the lot.

"I believe that honour goes to you - two years ago."

"Actually, if you recall, I turned you down, but you insisted. I told you I didn't want any part of it."

"You weren't in any position to say no to me," Doc snapped back. "You were given an order."

"One that I refused." Chase watched Doc carefully, his restrained body language with his hands out of sight. "You on the other hand, gave me your word."

"Based on a lie you told me." The look was danger tinged with pity.

"And here we are." Chase stared back.

"You have caused and cost me a lot of trouble, Chase."

"Seems to me it was your choice. You could have just accepted a loss for once." Surprisingly, Chase felt, it seemed Doc had come alone.

Doc gave a soft snort. "Has my niece been grateful for your cavalier actions?"

"Honestly? She's been a pain in the ass – but she was never deserving of your edict."

"Such principles for a stone killer."

Doc shifted in his seat and Chase tensed. "Such behaviour for a blood relative."

The sudden move prompted his own; both men acting in tandem, the muffled snicks of gunfire was the only sound. He sat there for a few minutes staring through the windshield, experiencing a final tug at his emotions. He started the car and took a last look across at Doc Regan, head tilted against the rest, blood trailing down over his nose from the hole in his forehead.

He put the car in gear and drove slowly off the lot, a lifetime of memories skipping through his mind, then fading quickly.

******

Paula almost went into shock when he stumbled back into the room, his jacket stained in blood. She did an awkward pantomime, guiding him to the bed and dashing around for a towel and water.

"What happened? Oh, my God, is it bad?"

He shrugged out of the jacket, letting it fall to the floor, and looked down at his shirt, fumbling at the buttons.

"Help me out of this." He clenched his teeth as she slipped the sodden shirt over his shoulders and down his arms. Her gasp at the sight of the bleeding made her straighten up, a dizziness attacking her balance. "Don't faint on me now, Ms Regan. You need to drive me to the hospital. That bullet has to come out."

She listened to his instructions, moving robotically, her mind an explosion of confusion. In the car, she struggled to adjust the seat and the mirror while he shook his head and leaned it against the passenger window.

"The hospital has to report gunshot wounds, you know." She turned briefly to look at him.

"That's fine. I was the victim of a random shooting." He grunted and winced as they hit a pothole.

"You think they'll believe you?"

"I can make them as long as you don't say a word about what I tell them. You need to keep your pretty mouth shut and your face straight." Another wince and he slid a sideways look at her. "That pothole was on purpose."

******

The lab technicians had gathered around the large table at the end of the room, all hushed mutterings and laughs as they awaited the honoured guest. The lab doors swung open and Paula walked in, accompanied by a small group of Rytex management. A short cheer went up from the technicians and was silenced with a wave of the hand.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the silver haired man, speaker of the group began, "this is a proud day for Rytex, as we celebrate one of our star researcher's departure from our laboratory, to undertake a freelance position. Ms Regan will be the new field representative for Rytex in collaborative research potential concepts.

Fancy title, I know, but it means she will be tracking down research that could be maximized through collaboration, bringing new and exciting discoveries in the field of curative medicines." He reached out and took Paula's arm, pulling her closer to the table. "This little send off was your lab group's idea, Paula. They wanted you to know how much you have been appreciated here."

She smiled, a little embarrassed, and thanked them all, joining in a glass filled toast. "I hope this wasn't brewed in here," she questioned, to a loud cheer.

******

"How did it go?" Chase was putting things in his pack as she entered their apartment.

"Very nice – a little sad that I won't be seeing them every day. What are you doing?"

"Business trip." He closed the pack and smiled at her.

Her features darkened. "A business trip." His eyebrows lifted. "Will you be gone long?"

"Hope not. I want to join you on that first trip your new position requires."

She took off her coat and hung it on a wall hook in the entry. "I didn't think – I wasn't expecting things not to change, Chase, just maybe not quite so soon."

"Are you having second thoughts?" He leaned on a chair, watching her.

". . . no, not really." Her face closed. "Well, maybe a few . . ." Is that true? Can I accept that I have fallen helplessly in love with a man who kills for a living?

"Paula, please make a final decision. I don't want to be a sword over your head in this relationship. The arrangements I made won't alter no matter what you decide. We discussed all this."

She made fists and banged her thighs. "I don't care about your arrangements. I told you before, I don't want your money."

"And I explained my side. You need to come to terms with yours." He picked up his pack. "I love you, Paula, that's my bottom line."

"And you I love you. I just – I can't let what you do change my whole concept of- of right and wrong."

He hung his head and tossed the pack on the chair. "Then don't." The words came out softly. "We'll go forward under the guidance of Rule Number Three."

She stared at him. "What's rule number three?"

"Be selective."

"Selective."

"Yes. Together, we'll make considered selections."

"We'll what? Are you suggesting--"

"Ms Regan it's time for another watering I think."

Her expression went from a slight frown to a slow blink of understanding. "You mean we choose how we go forward?" Her finger alternated between them. "Both of us?"

"Definitely."

"Does this mean I would really have a say in any selection?"

"Is that what you want?"

"It's what I would make a dealbreaker."

A genuinely pleasant surprise turned his mouth into a twitchy grin. "Now that might require a Rule Number Four."

END