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“‘In that direction,’ the Cat said, waving its right paw round, ‘lives a Hatter: and in that direction,’ waving the other paw, ‘lives a March Hare. Visit either you like: they’re both mad.’

‘But I don’t want to go among mad people,’ Alice remarked.

‘Oh, you can’t help that,’ said the Cat: ‘we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.’”

- Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland

Present Day

Oz was feeling slightly better today.

Not great, mind you. There were still some problems. The rooftop he was lying on was probably covered in asbestos, despite his best efforts to cover the surface up with a sterile biohazard tarp.

The air in this area was certain to be among the most polluted, and all of that stale, contaminated sludge was doubtlessly filling his lungs up like mud coating the inside of a water bottle.

The cold was probably going to give him early arthritis, its frozen grip slowly tightening on his joints like the icy hand of death.

He could feel it. Every second he remained here, it was one second closer to his horrible demise.

And, obviously, his partner was still MIA. Which was his biggest concern at the moment.

It wasn’t that Natalie wasn’t trustworthy, it was just that she always thought she knew better than anyone. So, she wasn’t someone who took advice well and she certainly wasn’t someone who ever thought she needed to be protected.

He didn’t necessarily disagree with that.

Natalie was the strongest, most capable woman that Oz had ever known.

But her own fractured mind and her piece-of-crap ex had damaged her.

She was strong… but she was also delicate.

Far more than she thought she was. If Oz did something wrong… she’d break .

She’d break, and there’d be no coming back from that for either of them.

So Oz spent most conversations with her willing himself not to do something to screw things up. He needed to keep himself under control and calm. He needed to keep her calm.

She’d undoubtedly spent too many years with someone telling her what to do. Putting their hands on her without consent…

The idea made Oz’s fists close tight enough to cause the material of his gloves to strain under the pressure, popping the stitches.

He made a face and promptly replaced them with another pair from his pocket.

It wasn’t that she was weak, it was that she was important .

At the moment, she was literally the hero of his life-story. And Oz knew, on a deep elemental level, that he could easily become the villain of it, if the circumstances were right.

In either case, his partner had pled for “five more minutes” of sleep this morning and to go on without him, and Oz was so utterly charmed by her sleepy and disheveled expression, that he’d agreed.

He found it very difficult to ever say no to that woman, particularly when she looked so adorable.

That was three hours ago though. And Natalie still hadn’t shown up.

He wasn’t worried, he knew she was fine.

He hadn’t heard any sirens or explosions.

And she wasn’t a woman who could be taken in a fight without at least one or two things blowing up first. Plus, he’d stationed Traitor and Flimflam in the apartment, ensuring that she didn’t go anywhere.

Not that he trusted Traitor, obviously, because that would be nightmarishly stupid, but Flannery was usually dependable in regards to such things.

Still, he was getting worried.

If she wasn’t here in the next ten minutes, he’d have to leave.

He had traced their leading suspects, the Mastersons, around the city for most of the morning.

They were paranoid and tried all sorts of techniques designed to ditch any suspected tails, but Oz was a very observant man.

They might have been professionals, but Oz was a superhero .

He’d managed to follow the men just fine.

They had eventually made their way to this otherwise nondescript and fairly isolated seven story building far across the river.

There were several open blocks between the building and anything else, and everything about it was utterly ordinary.

Everything, that is, but the guard booth and thinly disguised Agletarian military patrols which circled the complex.

Oz was fairly sure that whoever was in charge of the Agletarian side of the attack was in that building, which was one of the reasons why he was so hesitant to leave.

In his mind, solving this situation immediately was the best course of action.

He’d take out the Agletarians and then use them to track down Mercygiver, and then Natalie would be safe.

It was a good plan. But it was messy.

Oz hated messy.

He shouldn’t have left her alone. Even with five other members of the Consortium guarding her, in a location that no one outside of their organization knew.

That had been a mistake. He’d known it when he’d done it, but he’d been working under the assumption that “five minutes” actually meant five minutes, and that keeping an eye on the assailants would be keeping her safe, since he’d know exactly where the men were and if they moved against her, he’d be the first to know.

But it had been a mistake.

Oz’s breathing quickened, panic building.

He became even more aware of the trillions of horrible microbes which surrounded him, like someone slowly turning up a spotlight on them, overshadowing the world of humans.

And then the fact that the roof under him was undoubtedly both toxic and on the verge of collapse.

He’d soon plummet through it as the supports gave way, then the cloud of asbestos would choke his lungs with cancer, and he’d be forced to watch, bleary-eyed and retching up bloody globules of cancerous lung tissue, as assassins sped from this hideout to go kill Natalie!

It was happening. He could feel it. It was happening right now…!

One-two-three-four-five-one-two-three-four-five…

A moment later, he heard someone vault up onto the roof behind him and he instantly turned over to face the attack.

“Fuck mornings and everyone involved.” Natalie intoned darkly, making her way across the roof towards him.

He opened his mouth to point out that it was three in the afternoon and could in no way be considered “morning,” but was struck silent by Natalie’s outfit today.

She was costumed as a Playboy Club bunny, complete with heels, bow tie, and ears, carrying a large case of some kind. Her eyes were covered with goggles, each of which featured the Killroy symbol etched into the opaque white plastic.

The outfit was… surprising. Technically, it probably covered more skin than her “Jungle Lass” attire, but the addition of fishnet stockings and overtly low-cut bodice made it far more… sexual.

It was attractive in a way that made professional thought impossible. It invited nothing but distraction, and the need to dwell on the intricacies of her curves.

Oz was fine with that.

As it happened, dwelling on her curves had long been one of his favorite pastimes.

His eyes traced their way up and down her, marveling at the steady way she was able to walk across the roof in high-heeled boots so quickly. Her legs were muscular but slim, and he imagined them spreading open to…

“What?” She asked, noticing that he was staring.

“I didn’t say anything.” He defended, looking away and feeling embarrassed.

“No, but you were thinking it.” She frowned, her expression darkening. “You have a problem with me?”

“No, I’m…”

“ Because I’m getting really sick of your attitude today, Oz. ” She snapped.

Oz squinted in confusion, trying to determine which of the precisely fifteen words he’d said to her today had been so over-the-line.

She gestured to her sexy rabbit attire and held up a machine pistol. “Today I am….” she paused, “ Hare Trigger! ”

Oz snorted in amusement, despite himself. “Okay. Good to meet you.”

“Just a warning: I’m not a morning person, Oz. Just don’t even talk to me until I get a couple of cups of coffee in me, or I can’t be held responsible for what I do to you.”

He shook his head. “I don’t have a coffee maker up here. Or coffee.”

Her beautiful mouth turned down at the corners, forming an angry but oddly sexy frown.

“I’ve killed men for less than that, Oz.

” She flopped down onto the roof next to him, as he went back to observing the activities at the base.

“I still don’t understand why I had to come all the way out here on a frozen morning, just to deal with this. ”

“It’s the afternoon.” He felt the need to remind her.

She simply stared at him, continuing to frown. Apparently, “ Hare Trigger” didn’t like to be corrected.

“I thought Monty was in charge of the Agletarian side of things?” She finally asked.

“He is.” Oz agreed.

“So why are we here?”

“Do you trust him with your life?”

She snorted at that idea.

“Exactly.” He carefully recorded the guard’s movements in his logbook, pleased that it was keeping to the exact schedule he’d anticipated. “Did you bring Hazard and Tyrant with you?”

She shook her head, absently tossing pebbles across the roof.

“Nah, Stacy got back from visiting that ice skating zombies bitch, and she wanted them to go play some stupid card game.” She paused.

“Tyrant and Hazz, not the zombies, obviously.” She heaved an elaborate sigh.

“This mission requires a certain level of finesse and down-to-the-bone badassery which they lack anyway, so I think we’ll be fine.

” She absently looked back at him rather than at the soldiers trying to kill her, as if she trusted him completely to deal with that for her.

“Plus, the book club is reading that stupid book about the fucking rabbits again and they’re both so over-emotional.

They’d probably just start bawling if they were here. Fucking babies.”

“ Watership Down ?” Oz guessed.