(For the arrest of Frogger that led to this thread see here.)


It was a few days after the failed hit on Frogger and Mina was by now quite annoyed. The slime had hit her not a few hundred feet out of the warehouse. She'd been lucky that she'd gotten to a place the cops hadn't checked until she came down. Her employer had gotten impatient and demanded a status report. That had gone about as well as could be expected. Mina had to make this guy dead or her reputation was going to be shot. All in all she was very ready to make a certain cop pay. That cop, she'd learned from her information dealers, was one Ryan Doyle.

Ryan Doyle frequented a bar called the Black Horse Pub. Ryan Doyle was in for the surprise of his pathetic little life tonight. She was decked out in a red leather outfit that would have looked excellent with a motorcycle if she had one. However Mina thought she could carry it off from the driver's seat of her jaguar. She'd seen to it that she was, in her own opinion, hot. After all, her plans included catching that detective's eye.

With that in mind Mina pulled up to the curb at the bar in question at 9 pm. The jaguar was placed such that it would get attention but wasn't just begging to be stolen. After exiting and locking the vehicle Mina strode into the bar with a confident smile on her face. She looked around, meeting any eyes that sought her, before heading to the bar. She wasn't going to seek the man out immediately. That would be too suspicious. No, Mina would bide her time at the bar, get a drink or two, and make her move a little later. Provided, of course, that he didn't make a move first.

"You gonna finish it this time Doyle?" The bartender of the Black Horse pub asked as he slid Ryan's usual bottle of Bushmill's whiskey over the counter and into the detective's waiting hands. Even thought Ryan didn't usually finish an entire bottle, some would say Ryan Doyle had a drinking problem. Most of those folk kept that to themselves, but to the few that had informed Mr. Doyle what they thought, the man would simply reply "Oh no, I have no problems drinking. I'm actually quite proficient at it. Now f*** off."

Ryan shrugged and gave a nod, indicating he wanted to build up his tab more rather than pay. Although he was an accomplished annoyance, pissing off most people he came in contact with, Ryan was smart enough never to get on the bad side of a bartender. No respect, no tab. Even he knew that.

It was then that the woman in red entered the bar. If asked, Ryan would have come clean and admitted that even he stared at her as she walked through the pub. Dear God! Ryan shook his head and turned back to his whiskey. No way was she for real. This was a cop bar for crying out loud. Either she was some lucky b***ard's wife, stupidly low on self-esteem, or lost. Ryan cursed his cynic mind, and threw back a shot, pouring another.

"Yeah, I'm finishing it tonight."

A smirk curved her lips as she sat at the bar, waiting for one of the inebriated men to work up the nerve or the alcohol poisoning to try and talk to her. She'd spotted Mr. Ryan Doyle just down the bar. She'd also seen his eyes on her when she walked in. Her body at least had his attention. That was good. Tonight she had decided that her name was Sarah Princeton. She was an accountant who worked for a fairly well off couple that paid her to keep track of their finances. She also had a thing for cops. Or at least, that's what she'd say when someone asked what an accountant was doing dressed like that in a cop bar.

After a few minutes she was finally approached by a spindly little man in horn rim glasses who sounded like he was talking to her more because of drink than because of any courage he actually possessed.

"Sho hot schtuff" he hiccuped, "Howsa bout you n me?"

Mina closed her eyes as she was forced to endure the near overpowering smell of beer on the man's breath. She knocked back the rest of her drink, a glass of some expensive liquor or another, before eying the man.

"How about you go eat a breath mint and call me when you're sober."

Mina smiled brightly at him while the men nearby either winced or chuckled. The man in question flushed with anger, lurched forward, and then promptly fell to the floor when the cheap beer he'd been drinking finally over powered him. Mina simply raised an eyebrow at the prostrate man and turned to the barkeep, who was looking at her curiously.

"What's a gal like you doing here?" he asked as he refilled her drink after receiving a nod from her that it was ok to do so. Mina smiled coyly at him and responded with a wink.

"I happen to like cops...and I hear tell this is a good place to meet them."

Ryan awarded himself $5s as the drunk man slurred his nonsense. He'd bet himself that amount, predicting the time for a man to hit upon this lady in red down in almost the second. Both pleased that he'd won and annoyed he'd lost, Ryan bemused over his drink.

"How about you go eat a breath mint and call me when you're sober."

Ryan tilted his head slightly. Why did this sound so familiar. Was it... the voice? The tone? The cantor in the words? Was it... yes, it was!

She'd quoted some song by that gothic pop band, Evenwhatever it was. Ryan was a bit ashamed of his knowledge of the fact.

The drunkard hit the floor almost exactly on the dot. So, she wasn't lacking self confidence, and most likely not someone's wife. Lost? Probably.

"I happen to like cops...and I hear tell this is a good place to meet them."

Oh, she was lost already, but not geographically speaking. Ryan couldn't hold back a slight snort at this. The lady in red must have overheard this, and looked towards him. He decided what the hell, and retorted.

"You like cops eh? You poor poor soul."

She did in fact over hear Ryan Doyle's snort in response to her words and shoot him an innocent look. It was entirely unbelievable compared to what she could pull when she needed to. This was meant to be falsely innocent.

"Why would that be? There's a certain amount of bravery required to be a cop and face down the scum of society day in and day out. I find that attractive."

Mina could feel the stares on her and Ryan Doyle as she spoke. This was now a bar full of predators and they were listening and waiting for their chances to strike. She smiled brightly at Ryan Doyle, picked up her drink, and found a stool next to him.

"So what about you? Why are you here if you're so down on cops hmmm?"

She played the part of the curious and attractive woman. The rest of the men in the bar would be put out that he'd gotten her attention with such a tactic, whether he meant it or not. She fixed Ryan Doyle with a inquiring look and waited to see if he'd respond to her. She'd come here again and again if she had to. The man had screwed up her hit and tried to arrest her. She wanted some payback for that and a simple bullet just didn't feel quite sufficient. Smart, clean, and effective yes. Sufficient for what she wanted? No.

Well look at this. Crotchety Ryan had attracted the fly with his sour, bitter honey. This result certainly came out of left field. The detective wasn't one to complain about this, mind you. She was fairly fantastic upon the eyes, and Ryan certainly wasn't about to spoil a good view. Or at least not intentionally.

"So what about you? Why are you here if you're so down on cops hmmm?"

Ryan set down his glass and reached into his coat. His badge made a slight thump against the wooden bar top as Ryan set it down, showing the lady in red who/what he was. A slight smirk twitched upwards upon his lips before resuming their standard scowl.

"Bravery? Yeah, sure, I guess. But being brave and being heroic ain't the same thing love. Every one of us, and I mean everyone goddamn one, ain't doing this for the good of the people. Don't you listen to this lot either." Ryan thumbed behind his shoulder as those within earshot muttered. They'd all heard Ryan's shpeel before, and had grown to ignore it. Mostly.

"Redemption. Glory. Power. Self-Esteem. You name it. Cops aren't heroes by job description, just enforcers. Every now and then one gets it in his head that taking a bullet for a kid in the streets is the right thing to do. Whatever, kudos. But attractive? Lady, you got magnificent legs, but your taste don't match. By the looks of it." Ryan threw down another shot into the back of his throat, sliding the bottle towards the crimson clad colleen. "Besides," Ryan finished, picking up his badge. "This is the only bar around the serves that."

Mina let him get the vitriol out of his system before she grabbed the bottle by the neck, took a look at it, and then took a good long pull from it. After a time she sat it down on the bar with a thump that matched the one his badge had made.

"Good stuff." she commented before pushing the bottle back to him and looking at him.

"I never said I was looking for a hero. Heroes get killed too quick. I just like a man who's got the...nerve to do what needs to be done."

She smiled at him before taking a drink from her own glass.

"Besides, why do the job if you don't like being the hero? You may say you aren't doing it to be the hero but a lot of the time that's what you guys end up as. The so-called everyday hero."

Not that she actually believed any of it. Cops were idiots that mostly existed to get cut down. For every one criminal they put away there were three or four others waiting to take their place. This cop in particular currently existed to be cut down by her. Maybe when the time came she'd drown him in his precious whiskey.

Ryan raised in eyebrow into an arc over his eye as if the Gateway Arch had moved from St. Louis to his temple. Bushmills was strong stuff, pure brewed Irish Whiskey, aged to perfection, and made to both pleasure your taste buds and knock you off your feet. Yet this scarlette downed it like a champ. Hot damn!

"Besides, why do the job if you don't like being the hero? You may say you aren't doing it to be the hero but a lot of the time that's what you guys end up as. The so-called everyday hero."

Returning to his own drink, Ryan grimaced. "When I said every single one..." He drank his shot, letting out a sigh of both contempt and disgust "I meant every single one." Ryan shrugged. "Redemption, I guess? Self destructive ways tempered by a life of tension and rotten bad luck? Boredom? Hell, I don't know myself I guess these days." Ryan stood up, slid some cash to the bartender, and tugged on the edges of his unbuttoned coat.

"I need a smoke. You can finish the bottle if you want, on me." Ryan handed her the almost empty bottle of Irish whiskey, running a hand through his swept back hair as he passed her. If she followed, hey, what the hell. If not, he sure wouldn't be surprised, nor would he care.

Mina's eyebrow headed upward herself as he reeled off possible reason why he did what he did. Mr. Cynical Sadsack or what? Well, smoke or not she wasn't about to let him get away that easy. Mina had plans for him and that didn't include letting him get away. She grabbed the bottle and tossed some bills down to pay for her own drinks before following him out the door. She could almost hear the sighs and murmurs of 'lucky s.o.b.' as she headed for the door. If she hadn't been in character she would have laughed about it.

"Mr. Redemption Seeker, I don't like drinking alone." she said upon catching up to him

He'd gather his own implications from that and she'd let him. If she laid it on too thick too quick a cynical man like him would suspect something in a heartbeat. This curious good girl persona was going to annoy her no end. However if it was what what was needed then she'd use it. She had gone to greater lengths in the past for other things. A little bit of acting wouldn't hurt her too much. She took a pull from the bottle he'd given her.

"So got a name cop? Or do I have to search you for your wallet and find out from your driver's license?"

The smell of tobacco and a series of smoke rings filled the air as Ryan fired up a Camel Original. The head rush he yearned for soon followed as the nicotine entered his bloodstream. His body shivered ever so slightly as he let out a sigh of relief. It was such a deadly pleasure, smoking as heavily as the detective did. Maybe that's what made it all the better?

Ryan turned to the jaw-dropped in red who still held the almost empty bottle of Bushmill's whiskey. The moonlight quite possibly made her even more attractive. Or was that the booze? The cigs? The fact that he hadn't had any... *ahem*

But goddamn she was persistent. Either that, or desperate. Ryan knew (in his mind) how humanity truly worked. Everyone wanted something for themselves. This woman wasn't any different; her motives were possibly countless. Was it really loneliness as she claimed? Attractiveness? Was there some secret hidden agenda that Ryan would never see coming? Perhaps. Being a detective, his curiosity screamed out to uncover "the truth." The unquenchable hormones shared this outcry, but anyway...

Ryan stepped out from beneath the awning. It had begun to rain slightly, and the almost invisible black-on-black clouds didn't foretell a good outcome. Smoke mixed with the falling drops of water, breaking up their chaotic trails into pockets of burning mist. Nearly a minute passed before Ryan responded.

"Doyle. Detective Ryan Doyle." Ryan made a point of expressing his title, as usual. "I might ask the same of you. Although I won't deny, having to search you for you wallet wouldn't be a deterrent." Moisture brushed off the mutant's well kept beard as he smirked ever so slightly, lips curling upwards as excess smoke leaked out from between them. "Also, don't think of me as dumb, as hard as that may be. You want something, and not just my horribly depressing company. I'd suggest telling me, to make things simpler."

Rain started to fall in a slow even tempo as she waited for him to respond. He stepped out into it instead of staying under the awning. When he finally spoke he emphasized his title as though it were important. Mina had of course known his title but the emphasis he put on it made her smirk inwardly. The man was a bonafide drama queen. Sure he'd probably call himself a cynic or a realist but he made such a fuss about it that it just went into drama queen territory. Demanding that she tell him her plan, seriously? Most women wouldn't have one and those that did wouldn't say so.

However, Mina decided she could use this.

"You're right, I do want something." Her hand shot forward and twisted in the collar of his shirt. She tugged him in until he was inches from her face.

"Let me give you a clue"

Then she kissed him. The flavors cigarettes, whiskey, and rain greeted her for several precious seconds before she released him and stepped back.

"Does that answer your question?" then, as an afterthought she added, "Oh and my name is Sarah Princeton. I'm an accountant. Pleasure to meet you Detective Ryan Doyle. You're welcome to search for ID if you like."

A coy smile curved her lips. If he did search for ID he'd find everything in order. It would take some pretty heavy duty investigating to crack this identity since she'd used it before and it had all the proper paperwork to back it up.

Goosebumps covered Ryan's skin they kissed. Everything became enhanced in those brief moments. He could feel the rain splashing down from above; he could smell the intoxicating aroma formed from tobacco, booze, perfume, and the city itself; he could taste each and every crevasse formed by her lips against his, touching and intertwining. It had been far too long since the detective had felt the warmth of another body so close to his own; the stormy night's wind chilling both.

"Does that answer your question?...Oh and my name is Sarah Princeton. I'm an accountant. Pleasure to meet you Detective Ryan Doyle. You're welcome to search for ID if you like."

Ryan stood still for a few seconds, both stunned, shocked, and spellbound. He shook his head clear afterward, and for the first time fully smiled, actually holding it in place upon his rather attractive features. It made his cheeks hurt. He was very out of practice in smiling.

So, she wanted him tonight did she? Ryan mused over this, and decided what the heck. After all, each and every action made upon this world was done with a selfish motive behind it. Even Ryan's actions.

Like he cared.

"I'm sorry Ms. Princeton, but by regulations, I cannot search you at this current location. Maybe my place?" Ryan nodded to his right, just then noticing his arms had worked their way around her waist into an informal embrace. "Only a few blocks away."

Hook, line, and sinker as the saying went. Internally Mina was crowing in success. His arms held her loosely as a smile lit up his face and made her consider that as far as revenge conquests went he wasn't bad looking. She'd get her revenge and have some fun with an attractive man. Mina liked this. His attempt at officiousness made her laugh, genuinely laugh not the false laughter she commonly used.

"Well, we could walk or..."

Mina turned slightly and gestured to her silver baby, the jag, sitting streetside.

"We could take that."

She waited expectantly for his reaction to her car. It would be beyond the price range of any normal accountant. She was awfully fond of it. It cost a good amount of money and was a good car. Also, it was fast enough to put up a good chase if need be even though she didn't use it for that unless she had to. So Mina was fond of it, though not in any way sentimentally attached.

Ryan turned to the sleek silver Jaguar "Sarah" pointed out. Jesus Christ on a pogo stick. How the hell would an accountant be able to afford a car like that? Ryan's suspicion conflicted with his hormones. Cynicism versus sinful pleasure. It was a well fought battle, but the booze and legs that went on forever eventually won out.

"A car outside a cop bar ain't ever gonna get stolen." Ryan said, turning to walk stumble towards his flat. His arm still looped around the woman's waist, both helping keeping him upright and keeping the mood. "I hope you're not allergic to dogs..."

[FADE TO BLACK..... oooooh yeeeeeeeeah]

[To Be Continued]