Rollie Tyler, master of the FX, sighed deeply and rubbed his aching temples as the sound of the door being slammed shut reverberated through the old converted brewery. His partner, Angie Ramirez, was on the warpath with him and headed for yet another blind date. After the way this week had gone, Rollie wasn't sure if Angie should have kept this date. After all, her record for blind dates was remarkably bad. Almost as bad as his own. He had sworn off blind dates long ago, and unlike Angie, had stuck to that promise through all the finagling and pleading of all his friends. It had been a bad week, a hell of a bad week from day one. And Rollie knew Angie had every right to be angry, at least from her point of view. It was a viewpoint the Aussie fully sympathized with and shared, but he knew that realistically, if he wanted Tyler FX to keep this job, it was one he couldn't act on. After all, the real root of most of the problems for the past week was the star of their latest job, Jacob Whitmore. And since the star was the star and a close personal friend of the director, Porter Kingston, there was no one Rollie could complain to about all of the "problems". So he, and unfortunately Angie by extension, suffered.

The week from hell started on Monday when Angie found the hard drive on the computer in the FX van had crashed. While Rollie Tyler handled the "first day" work on the set of their latest movie, Angie Ramirez spent the entire day and half the night replacing the hard drive and rebuilding the data. First from the backups Rollie had done this past Friday and then laboriously redoing all of Saturday's work. That was Monday.

Tuesday, Angie, grumpy from almost no sleep, laughed with everyone else on the movie set at the presence of a whoopee cushion that startled her boss and partner when Rollie sat down for their first break of the day. The lanky Aussie jumped, blushed, and sheepishly joined in on the laughter. She wasn't laughing that evening when they found the rear tires on the large black van mysteriously flat. That delayed their leaving the set by a couple of hours while Rollie re-inflated the tires and checked them carefully for leaks. Angie grumbled and moaned and complained about the flats all the way home. That was Tuesday.

Wednesday, Angie wore a new shirt to work and got "bit" by the practical joker when she took a drink from Rollie's soda pop and it had dribbled all over said shirt. While the crew laughed, Angie glared at Rollie - as if it was all his fault! And Rollie got a sinking feeling as he remembered the stories whispered about the star of the movie. Jacob Whitmore was about five foot eight inches tall and hated people who were taller than him. Rollie realized that at six foot two, he was over qualified on that score. And the actor was a notorious practical joker, with all of his pranks aimed directly at anyone with the bad taste to qualify on the height point. Angie had just gotten the fall-out from being too close to the target - one Rollie Tyler. That prank was followed by a water balloon that soaked Rollie and the powder of the charges he was carrying at the time. That night Rollie worked late, replacing the ruined charges.

Thursday, Rollie strapped his PDA to his right arm as usual and got down to work. All was fine, until an itching sensation started to build where the PDA was strapped. Unfortunately, it happened while they were in the middle of filming a highly explosive scene and Rollie had been unable to take the time to remove his PDA until over an hour later. Everyone, including Angie, laughed when Rollie jumped out of his hiding spot like a jack in the box, yanked the PDA off, tossed it aside and ran to the van, scratching like crazy at his arm. His right forearm and wrist were now red and extremely irritated from the itching powder that had been planted on the PDA's straps. Rollie slathered ointment all over the red marks, gritted his teeth and went back to work. But the fact Angie laughed at him along with everyone else had hurt! Angie gave him no sympathy whatsoever and told him point blank that he'd asked for it by not complaining about all the other pranks.

Friday had been the kicker though, the icing on the cake that was the week from hell. Angie apparently hadn't learned her lesson from Wednesday very well. The day was suppose to have only fairly simple special effects and nothing about the FX was supposed to be messy. "Suppose to"... So Angie, who had a blind date that night, decided to save time by wearing a nice outfit. A nice outfit that included a new blouse. It was her favorite, one she had wanted for a very long time, but hadn't bought because it cost too much. The blouse had finally gone on sale at clearance and Angie happily added it to her wardrobe. This was her first time wearing it. Unfortunately, the prank du jour was a stink bomb in the FX van. It got Rollie, Angie and her new blouse. And Rollie got the reaming of his life! Angie yelled at him for a full hour and by the end of the day showed no signs of forgiving her boss for his "missing backbone" as she put it.

Angie took a shower at the workshop, changed into some clothes she kept there and angrily tossed the ruined blouse into Rollie's trash can before storming out to meet her date. Rollie rubbed his aching head, sighed, dug the blouse out and wondered if there was any way in the world to salvage it. He decided to take it to the dry cleaners down the block tomorrow after work. If it could be salvaged, Mama Rosa would find a way. She had gotten all sorts of things including blood, real and fake, from his "good" clothes. Mama Rosa was a real miracle worker when it came to removing stains and such. He prayed she could pull another miracle off because he was pretty sure it was his only chance to get a truce with his extremely infuriated and irritated partner.

And that was it for the Friday of the week from hell, or so Rollie thought, until there was a knock on the door. Grumbling at the interruption, he answered the door to find a FedEX courier with an envelope for Angela Ramirez. Rollie signed for it and took it inside. He looked curiously at the package wondering who had FedEXed Angie at the loft. That was when Rollie realized the week from hell had just gotten worse, much worse than he ever thought possible.

Rollie's heart sank as he recognized the return address. The Aussie knew he had three envelopes with the same return address upstairs. All were for a firm in California - Marin County, California. A firm that recruited almost exclusively for one very special set of companies. Rollie shivered. It was an invitation. Once upon a time, Rollie thought, he would know Angie's answer to this particular envelope and request. Now, he was no longer sure.

After the week from Hell to remind Angie of all the little reasons... With her normally mild, but now thoroughly aggravated dislike of the slime, gunk, blood and other messy things they dealt with almost daily... With her perfectly normal wariness of the explosive and pyrotechnical special effects... With an offer of a steady paycheck - a large steady paycheck... A paycheck that far and away exceeded anything Tyler FX could offer in the short term... With the opportunity to specialize in her beloved computer effects... There wasn't a single, solitary reason Rollie could think of that would cause Angie to say no to an offer of a job with ILM. The holy grail of special effects, the big shot of the movie special effects industry, Industrial Light and Magic had sent Angie a job offer with impeccable timing almost guaranteed to get a resounding yes!

For one selfish moment, Rollie Tyler sat at his desk and gave serious consideration to "accidentally" burying the envelope under the pile of mail on his desk. At least until Angie had a chance to cool off, hopefully sometime this millennium, not the end of the next one. Rollie stared at the envelope then dropped his aching head in his hands. He couldn't do that. Not to Angie. He had gotten his offers and made his choices. Choices that had been right for him. Well, choices that Manny, Angie's father and his mentor, prodded him to take or at least to make. Now it was Angie's turn. Her turn to fly out of the nest and prove herself. As he had left Manny, so now Angie would leave him. Rollie just wished it could be on a happier note.

If Rollie was honest with himself and he felt he owed honesty to both Angie and Manny, this was the perfect job being offered to Angie. Practically everyone in the special effects field dreamt of working on the next Star Wars and here was Angie's chance - to really work on the next Star Wars. Angie, always more of a specialist than himself, could now specialize in what she loved best. She would receive a large steady income with no fluctuation because of an off period. There wouldn't  be any dirty, dangerous work helping the police to do something HE had no business involving them with in the first place. And she would still be a partner in Tyler FX. There was no stipulation that she had to work at Tyler FX after all. A single hot tear fell unacknowledged on to the envelope. Rollie stood and carried it carefully up to the clean room. He placed it prominently on the keyboard where Angie would see it the minute she got up there. Rollie stared at the envelope with a heavy heart, then went back downstairs to work on the effects that had to be completed for next week.

Rollie looked up, startled, hours later, when the door to the workshop was slammed open, then slammed closed. He'd buried himself so deeply into his work, time had slipped away from him. Angie had returned and apparently the blind date had been worse than he had feared it would be. One more nail to seal his and Angie's fate and future. "Um, so how was the date?" Rollie asked tentatively, even though he knew he shouldn't ask. It was like seeing an accident on the side of the road, you didn't want to look, but somehow you couldn't stop yourself.

"Don't you dare go there, Rollie Tyler! Not ONE word!" Angie fumed, her earlier fury fueled to even higher heights by an incredibly bad date. It was the worst on record for her and that made it number one with a bullet as the date from hell! She stormed up to the clean room in pursuit of something, anything, to remove the foul taste of her blind date, the week from hell and Rollie's cowardice from her mind.

Rollie watched Angie go up to the second level with tired, sad eyes. He shivered even though the night was warm. Soon... it was the beginning of the end.

Angie froze and stared at the very visible FedEX envelope. What? Now she had to take care of Mister Tyler's mail, too! She reached out to grab the envelope and toss it downstairs when she realized the name on it was hers. Oh great! Who would FedEX her? Looked like she was in for even more trouble now! The petite blonde took a deep breath and opened the envelope. She pulled the letter out and read it warily. What?!? That couldn't be right! She must be dreaming, she couldn't really have a job offer from ILM! Could she? Angie read the letter again, more carefully. She pinched herself and then rubbed her arm because it hurt. Yes, she was awake and the letter, the incredible, wonderful letter was real!!! Angie didn't know whether to laugh or cry, to jump or shout, or run screaming into the night. ILM was offering her, Angela Ramirez, a job! A job!!!

Angie started to run downstairs to tell Rollie, then froze again. Why should she tell him? He had allowed those stupid pranks and that idiot prankster to run rampant all over him and, more importantly, her. It was his fault her favorite blouse was ruined! So why should she share her good fortune with him? Rollie didn't appreciate her anyway. She was sure of that, look how he treated her, ignoring almost everything she said. Running off to play cops and robbers with his police friends, leaving her to do the dirty work that paid for his living and to pick up the pieces when things fell apart. Well maybe that would change now. Here was a perfect job being offered to her on a silver platter. She read the letter again, Yes, it said ILM would cover the cost of her flying out there and interviewing. They would pay all of her travel expenses. Obviously, ILM appreciated her talents, unlike Mister Rollie Tyler. And she was positive that they wouldn't stick her in the cargo hold like Rollie had done that time they had gone after Telemark. No, ILM wouldn't do that to her. She would no longer be taking the back seat to anybody. It was time for the world to take notice of what Angela Ramirez could do, not the wonderful Rollie Tyler!

But how was she going to get out there? That was the question. They had just started working on their newest movie, "Deadly Fate", it would be weeks before she could get time off. Or would it? This week had been bad by anybody's standards. She hadn't taken vacation in ages. Angie didn't want to wait weeks for fear the offer would disappear like one of Rollie's illusions. Maybe, just maybe, she could talk Rollie into giving her a couple of days off. A quick trip to California and... yes, that was the ticket.

Angie strolled casually down the stairs, the all important envelope and letter hidden safely under her light jacket, "Oh Rollie?"

"Yeah Ange?" Rollie carefully kept his head down and concentrated on the terminal in front of him. He didn't want Angie to see his expression. He didn't want her to know that he knew.

"Um. I'm sorry I flew off the handle at you like that." Angie hardened her heart against the part that told her to be honest with her best friend and partner.

"Yeah, well I can understand where you're coming from Angie, it's just..." Rollie shrugged helplessly. "Struth, my hands are tied."

"Yeah. Um. Well I'm tired, you know. So much has been happening lately. I... I think that's why I overreacted like I did." Not! Angie thought.

"There has been a lot going on." Rollie hesitated, then decided to get it over and done. "So, you want what? Some vacation time? It's been a while since you took any time off." He peeked over his terminal at her, waiting for a reaction.

Angie gave herself a mental high five. Yes! I should get an Oscar for this performance. "Uh yeah, I was thinking maybe... just a couple of days. You know to get over the week from hell?"

"I guess we can afford for you to take a couple of days off. Why not start tomorrow, it's scheduled to be pretty light anyway. With Sunday, Monday and Tuesday, that's four whole days. Will that do?"

"That'll do just fine, Rollie! Thanks!" Angie grinned. "So, I'll see you Wednesday then. Bye!" She called cheerfully as she darted out the door. Anxious to get away, before Rollie got suspicious or changed his mind. Four days to get to ILM and interview! Four days to change her life!

Angie's spirits were flying higher than the jet on the return flight to New York City, late Monday night. Her return ticket had been for Tuesday morning, but she decided to change it to an earlier flight. She had called the number in the letter Saturday, right before lunch. They immediately arranged for her to fly out to California later that afternoon. For a change, everything had gone like clock work. No bother at all for her. The only thing she had to arrange was someone to tend her cat,  Chiops. A call to Rollie had covered that detail easily. She told him truthfully she was going out of town for her mini vacation and would he please take care of Chiops? Of course Rollie said yes. When he did, she felt a twinge from her conscience, really she should tell Rollie, but decided to stay her course. Time enough for that later, after all, nothing was decided yet. Her hotel room proved to be more of suite than a room, large and luxurious by her standards. A young man (cute) met her early Sunday and took her on a tour of the ILM facilities (fabulous) and (glory, oh glory) Skywalker Ranch itself. She, Angie Ramirez, had actually gotten to say good morning to George Lucas himself! She had even been allowed to see some of the secret special effects work being done for the newest Star Wars movie!

Monday, Angie interviewed with three people. They were well acquainted with the work she had done for Tyler FX. All three heaped praise on Angie for her work. They offered her a large salary (extremely generous), great benefits, moving expenses, help to locate living quarters... and in general made her think that she, Angie Ramirez was important to the future of ILM. When it came time for Angie to leave, they simply told her to take a couple of weeks and think about the offer. Plenty of time to break the news of her new job to Rollie, Angie thought happily. All in all, the entire trip was absolute heaven for the beautiful blonde.

Angie stretched in the roomy first class seat and casually looked around the cabin. She liked to look at people on long flights and try to decide what they did for a living. This time though it was a pretty blonde girl about eleven years old that caught her attention. She reminded Angie of herself at that age. The special effects expert thought about what her life had been like at eleven. Would the child Angie have dreamt then about what her future held now? She hadn't thought about that time in ages!

At eleven years old, Angie was small for her age and a total tomboy. She traveled with her father wherever his work took him. She learned her school lessons from tutors on the movie sets and spent her spare time watching her dad work and helping him. Manny Ramirez was a special effects artist and what he did was real magic as far as his daughter was concerned. Ever since she had lost her mother, Angie dreamt of the day she would be her father's partner. It was her DESTINY!

That was why Angie was shocked by what happened on the movie "they" were currently working on - "Gangster Alley". A young stunt driver caught Manny's eye. He watched the stuntman carefully and noted the care and exquisite eye for detail the young man exhibited with his work. "That one, Angel. Now that one will be something special. I wonder..."

Angie merely looked at the stunt man and shrugged. He didn't seem special to her.

Then came that fateful day, when Manny approached the stunt driver. "Good morning."

"G'day, Mister Ramirez" the young man looked at Manny with bright brown eyes. He pushed his shaggy brown hair away from his face. "Can I help you, sir?" Respectful, but eager as a young pup, his voice lightly accented.

"Manny, please." The special effects expert smiled up into the taller man's curious eyes. "Tyler, isn't it?"

"Uh, yeah," the Australian smiled warmly, "everyone calls me Rollie, though."

"All right, Rollie it is then," Manny looked casually around. "So how do you like stunt work?"

"Great," Rollie grinned happily, pleased to make a new friend., "it's exciting. Rick says I'm a natural."

"Hmm, could be, Rollie. So what do you think of special effects?" Rollie's excitement was plain and he eagerly asked questions of the older man. Manny casually asked Rollie if he wanted to help with some of the effects. Rollie's eyes lit up like a kid with a new toy, the best toy in the world! And Manny gave himself a mental pat on the back. Bingo! Manny thought, looks like I found me an assistant and apprentice.

Angie stared disdainfully at the intruder when her dad introduced him. Who did this character think he was, taking her spot?!? She was suppose to be her dad's assistant. Not this... this... stranger!

With all the fury only an offended eleven year old could muster, Angie proceeded to make Rollie's life miserable. When they shared a meal at a table, Angie kicked one of Rollie's legs repeatedly, until he learned to tuck the long limbs carefully under his chair and out of Angie's reach.

When they went into town for something, Angie talked the young man into buying her ice cream and gleefully found Rollie had an in-bred something against waste. If she didn't eat it, he did. So she proceeded to request, receive and reject the oddest flavors. Angie paid particular attention to which flavors Rollie seemed to dislike. Her crowning glory of that particular trick came when she got Rollie Tyler to eat four very different and far from complimentary scoops. The man threw up later and was sick for the rest of the day. Not because of the flavors unfortunately, but because of the quantity.

From there it went on to simple pranks, like water buckets balanced over the door and other petty annoyances. She even got to short sheet his bed once. The only good thing, Angie could say about Rollie Tyler was he never complained about her antics to her father.

Angie was very happy to see their stint on "Gangster Alley" end. Finally! They could go home and forget about Rollie Tyler. Her dad would return his attention back to where it belonged - to her.

A week later, that bubble of happiness popped, when Rollie Tyler arrived at Manny's workshop with a battered duffel bag and an even more battered knapsack. Her dad called eagerly, "Look who's here, Angie. Rollie has agreed to be my assistant! Isn't that wonderful?" He was totally oblivious to the look of pure fury she projected at the Australian.

Rollie's new home was a tiny corner tucked away under one of the stairs. His bed was an old mattress with pillow, sheets and blankets. His bags served as his closet. It was temporary until he had the money for an apartment. It also gave Angie more opportunities in her "war" against the intruder. Blood packs mysteriously went off in Rollie's bed, usually right before he was going to sleep after a long day. His food was always too salty or too peppery... too something, making it close to inedible. Manfully, Rollie ate as much as he could stand, but he still lost weight.

Angie would ramble through Rollie's belongings when she was alone in the workshop. One search revealed Rollie's stash of cash. She counted it carefully, it was a lot of money - at least to Angie. She virtuously returned the bills to their hiding place. She wasn't a thief. Angie made certain she checked on his bankroll at least once a week. She was puzzled when the wad shrank occasionally with no sign of anything new to indicate where the money had gone. Idly, she considered what could cause the reduction. Her vivid imagination decided for a while that Rollie Tyler had a drinking problem or a drug habit, sure to cause failure in Manny's world. But there was no indication of either, no signs of hangovers or drug daze. She discarded the thoughts that Rollie would fail on his own with no help from her. Once in a while, when she was short for something special she wanted, she would sneak a little bit off of the roll of bills. A couple of dollars here, a five there, never enough to be noticed in her mind. She convinced herself she wasn't stealing, because she tried to replace the money from her allowance later. And if she missed restoring some of the borrowed cash, well, Rollie Tyler didn't belong here. He owed her!

In a move Angie considered brilliant, she liberally poured honey into Rollie's bags and smeared it all over the contents. Unfortunately, the jeans and T-shirts were easily cleaned. She took malicious joy in gluing the pages of a large battered book together with the sticky substance. That would not be so easily resolved by Rollie Tyler. Angie didn't know why that old book was so important, but it's importance to it's owner was obvious. The dilapidated book was wrapped in several clean cloths, carefully protected against the battering of being lugged around in Rollie's worn knapsack.

When Rollie discovered the honey and the damages to his possessions, Angie watched him closely from the safety of upstairs. As she peered down on the brown haired man through the metal steps, Angie saw him carefully place the book in the center of his mussed bed and walk out the door. Without a word to her father, Rollie Tyler had just walked out. Angie Ramirez felt a pang of conscience as she observed those actions, obviously the book, whatever it was, was even more important that she had originally thought. She shook it off angrily, this was WAR! There was no room for Rollie Tyler in her father's world, only her. If this was what it took to drive the intruder out, so be it. To her great disgust, Rollie Tyler returned, serene and confident, determined. Obviously, it hadn't been enough, she would have to find another tactic.

Angie winced as she remembered the thefts and the honey incident, she hadn't consciously thought of her actions since the day she accepted Rollie. And she still had no idea what that book was. She hadn't bothered to try and read it, not even the title. Her intent had been to do as much damage as possible without getting caught. Not once in her assault on Rollie's presence had he complained to Manny. To her knowledge, the book incident and the money were never mentioned. Angie had a sneaking suspicion, Rollie still possessed that book, as useless as it must be now. And she had never apologized to him, not for the money or for the book, not even after...

A week after the honey attack, Manny yelled angrily at his assistant when some squibs Rollie made up did not go off the way they should. After testing, every squib failed. Rollie hung his head in shame, while Manny berated him for failing at something he should know how to do thoroughly by now. Angie listened gleefully from her upstairs refuge. That would show Rollie Tyler! After a few minutes, her father told Rollie to clean up the workshop, they would discuss it later. Manny had a meeting for their next movie and would be late if he didn't leave now. Angie listened as the door closed on her father.

Cautiously, she crept to the edge to spy on her enemy, Rollie Tyler. The Australian was standing there, his hands curled into fists. Shudders ran through that tall, too thin frame. With a nod to himself, Rollie slipped into his corner. There were quiet rustling sounds. Less than ten minutes later, the brown haired man walked out the door, knapsack on his back, duffel slung over one shoulder. YES! She had WON! Rollie Tyler was in full retreat!

Ten minutes after Rollie went out the door, Angie walked downstairs, determined to confirm her victory. She went to Rollie's little corner to snoop around. She didn't have to snoop though, the proof of her success was prominently displayed on Rollie's pillow. Angie picked up the letter addressed to her father and bounded back up the stairs. She opened it eagerly and read the results of her successful battle campaign.
 

Dear Mr. Ramirez,

    I apologize for wasting your time. Obviously, I am not cut out to be a  special  effects expert. Thank you very much for trying to help me succeed in  my dream.. I truly do appreciate all that you have done for me. I think it  would be best if I return to doing stunt work. It is the only thing I am good at, I know this  now. Special effects was a silly dream with no chance of success, I don't have the talent for it. My failure is strictly my fault. You did your best for me. Thank you very much! By the time you return and read this, I will be on my way back to California. Do not worry about me. I'm certain Rick can find me  another job. Thank you again and I am sorry I wasted your valuable time.

An hour after Rollie left the workshop, Manny returned. The telephone rang just as he walked in the door. He tossed his jacket over the back of a chair and grabbed the phone. "Manny Ramirez, can I help you?" Angie listened from her upstairs perch. She wondered how long it would take her father to discover Rollie Tyler was missing. "Steve! How's it going?" He listened to the person on the other end. "Damn, I knew something was bothering Rollie. I... I yelled at him earlier. I was pretty hard on him. I should have known something had distracted him, he's too good to have messed up like that." .... "Yeah, I wish he'd said something. Losing his mother that young, it can't be easy for him."

Angie felt cold at those words "Losing his mother", what did that mean? She remembered the pain of losing her mom. It hurt SO MUCH, it still did! She missed her mom. Angie cried herself to sleep so often... Apparently, the man she had driven away knew that pain as well. Tears leaked from repentant blue eyes. "Losing his mother"... She hadn't known!

"I know Angie's had a hard time since" .... "Yes, I miss her too. Still, I better apologize to Rollie. Maybe I can get him to talk. I hope I can help him."

Angie slipped silently down the stairs and out the door unseen, her father still talking on the telephone. She had to find Rollie, explain and apologize... make him come back. She hadn't known Rollie had lost his mother too! She had to tell him she had made the squibs fail, not something he had done! Angie looked around uncertainly. She tried to think where Rollie would go. It wasn't like he had any friends he could stay with in New York. He'd said he was going back to California. Okay, that meant the airport. She jogged toward the subway, hoping she had enough money for the fares involved, hoping she could find Rollie before it was too late.

While Angie was waiting for the next train, it dawned on her that Rollie didn't have the money for plane fare to California. She didn't know exactly how much it was, just that it was a lot. And Rollie's little bankroll had been sadly depleted when she'd checked it a couple of days ago. So where?  That left the bus or train station.  But which one? She only had time to reach one of them. If she guessed wrong... Rollie Tyler would be gone. Forever. Her heart ached at the thought. She remembered Rollie mentioning he liked trains to her dad once. She'd find him there. As she rode the subway, she realized that train fare would be more expensive than the bus... wasn't it? She'd go to the bus station, hopefully she'd find Rollie there. Please! I have to find him!

Angie rubbed her eyes and sniffed as she climbed the steps into the daylight. She looked around and headed toward the bus station. It was a big, bustling place. She hoped she could spot Rollie's tall, thin figure in the crowd. There! There he was, stepping away from one of the ticket windows. She squeezed and wiggled through the press of people, trying to reach him before he could climb onto a bus and disappear forever. Angie came out into a quieter area with fewer people. She looked around wildly, trying to spot the Australian. Just as the small blonde thought she'd lost him, she spotted the familiar brown mop of hair. She started to yell for him when a large, meaty hand clamped hard on her shoulder. Furious, she shouted, "Let me go!" and glared back at whoever had grabbed her. An overweight old man with straggling gray hair grinned maliciously at her. "Who are you? What do you want? Let me go!"

The grin widened and he chuckled ominously. "I don't think so, girlie. You're a pretty little thing. You're coming with me."

"I'll scream!" She threatened, trying to pull away.

"Scream away, no one will pay any attention." His gesture indicated the people around them who were ignoring her struggles. "I'll just tell anyone who asks you're my granddaughter and always screaming about something. Shame how parents let their kids get away with such behavior now a days." He dragged the blonde girl into a dark, quiet corner well away from the crowds and yanked her close.

Angie took a deep breath and opened her mouth to scream for help when his mouth closed on hers. She choked at the slimy feel and the sour taste. NO, part of her mind screamed and she wriggled and kicked, trying to get away! NO!!!  She screamed dizzily inside.

Abruptly, the nasty man moved away, letting her go. Angie opened the eyes she hadn't realized she'd closed to see a furiously angry Rollie Tyler punch the man in the mouth.

The man rubbed his mouth and glared at the taller, thinner man. "What do you think you're doing? This isn't any of your business."

"Yes it is!" Rollie spat out. "Angie's my friend! You keep away from her! Even if she wasn't, it's not right to treat young girls like that. You..."

The man hit Rollie in the face and he fell back slightly. The stranger turned to grab Angie again, but she kicked him in the shins. Rollie grabbed her hand and pulled her after him. They ran, hearts pounding, away from the man who had snatched her. Hands reached after them, trying to grab her again. Angie saw a hand snag Rollie's knapsack. One of the straps snapped, but Rollie never slowed down. He pulled Angie out into the crowds and the sunlight. Panting, they moved only slightly more slowly to one of the doors on the far side of the bus station. No one looked at the scared duo, everyone was too busy with their own business.

Anxious brown eyes bored into her scared blue ones. "Are you okay, Angie?" Rollie asked, his voice trembling. "I'm sorry I didn't reach you sooner! I..."

Angie gulped as she shivered at the close call, if Rollie hadn't... She stumbled to an open alley and threw up. Rollie's large hands steadied her and kept her hair out of the way. He rubbed her back until she stopped when there was nothing left to come up. She allowed Rollie to guide her steps away from the alley and toward the subway. Her heart slowed as she realized she was going home... THEY were going home. She smiled shyly at the Aussie. "I'm okay now... I think." That had been terrifying! Rollie stood close by while she rinsed her mouth out at a water fountain and sipped some of the cold liquid. She was so glad Rollie was here.  Rollie found them a seat on the next train and she snuggled close to his side, her cold body seeking the warmth there. A long thin arm reached around her shoulder and held her tenderly. It had been close, so close. Angie closed her eyes and breathed deeply, comforted by Rollie's warm and gentle presence.

Rollie gently tugged her up and off the train. They were almost home, Angie noticed, exhausted. She wasn't sure she could walk the rest of the way. Suddenly, strong arms scooped her up. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms and legs around the thin, sturdy body of the man carrying her. Trusting, Angie rested her head on his shoulder, feeling safe and secure. Home, Rollie was taking her home.

Manny looked up startled when Rollie staggered into the workshop carrying Angie. He quickly lifted his baby from his assistant's arms. Examining her carefully, he looked for an explanation. "Angie, angel, are you okay?" He looked puzzled at the tired young man and his daughter. "What happened?" His questions were sidetracked as Angie, safe in her father's arms, burst into tears.

Her father never did get a clear story from her about that day. Angie wondered if Rollie had ever explained about what happened or how he'd gotten his black eye. To her knowledge, Manny never realized Rollie quit. She thought she'd told him about the horrid old man and Rollie's timely rescue. But... she realized now, she'd never apologized to Rollie or explained about what she had done. And the incidents had never come back up, Rollie simply stayed and she stopped her attacks. They became friends, allies... family.

It wasn't long after that, Angie realized that her relationship with her father hadn't changed. His love was there, just as it always had been. Rollie Tyler had never been the threat she had thought him to be. And now she had someone else to rely on, to help her and yes, to love her. Rollie became a protective and proud big brother, as pleased as her father, if not more so, when she got high grades or did something well. Angie smiled as she realized Rollie had been prouder than she was herself at her college graduation. Everyone who would listen heard him proudly and eagerly proclaim, "That's my partner!"

Angie discovered she could take her troubles and fears to Rollie. That he was a refuge in what could sometimes be a cold, cruel world. Someone she could talk to and cry on when she missed her mother or a thousand little things went wrong. She had needed someone to talk to about her mom for she had been unable to bring herself to talk to her dad. Manny was always so sad when Angie mentioned her mom. Rollie had also taken it upon himself to teach Angie how to defend herself. He showed her how to make a proper fist, so she wouldn't break her thumb. He taught her just where to kick so it would hurt an attacking male the most. The Aussie nursed more than one bruise and deep ache from those lessons, but they didn't stop until both were satisfied Angie Ramirez could take care of herself. Further, he helped her grow up into a woman. When Angie needed answers about her changing body, Rollie took her to the library and together they sought out the answers to her confused questions.

The adult Angie sighed as she realized she wasn't being fair to her best friend. She would call Rollie after she got home and they would talk about Industrial Light and Magic's job offer. Angie was no longer so certain it was right for her. It would take her from Rollie and New York... from family and home. Rollie could help her see clearly and make this important decision.

Angie frowned thoughtfully during the taxi ride home. She owed Rollie several apologies. She also owed him money and more for the grief she had caused him. She needed to explain about the money, the squibs, and apologize about her attitude over the past week. Possessing a deeper knowledge of her Australian partner, Angie knew the reason Rollie's bank roll mysteriously shrank was most probably his father, Dingo. At the time, he could ill afford her depredations or the unused and non-refundable bus ticket. She needed to apologize and replace the funds, even though Rollie didn't really need the money now. She also owed Rollie for the sabotaged squibs and the book. Angie had a suspicion she could never make up for the book. Rollie obviously cared for it deeply, but she hadn't seen it since that day with the honey. Maybe instead of mentioning the damaged book, she would snoop around his loft and see if she could find it. Maybe she could replace it or get it repaired, if Rollie hadn't already done so.

Satisfied with her decisions, Angie paid the cab driver and bounded upstairs. It was good to be home, back in NYC! Sunny California was nice, seeing Skywalker Ranch was great, but this was home. Angie quietly opened the door to her apartment and was surprised to find Rollie sitting on the floor, leaning against her couch and playing with her cat. Chiops had his head buried under one of Rollie's arms, a paw resting on his shoulder and Rollie was stroking the cat's back gently, softly speaking nonsense to his furry playmate.

Rollie started at her cheerful greeting of "Hello Rollie!" and Chiops jumped away, running to her, rubbing his head and back against her legs. She frowned as she got a good look at her boss. There was a bruise on his right cheek and a bright blue brace on his right wrist. She moved closer and sank to her knees beside him. He looked like he hadn't slept much either. Gently, she picked up the injured limb and examined it. She hissed as she saw the vividly colored and painful looking bruise, visible at the edges of the ace bandage and brace on his wrist and hand. "Rollie, what happened?" She paused, then added when her partner made no move to answer. "And what're you doing here?" She craned around to check the clock on the mantle. "Aren't you suppose to be working?" That was the schedule, she was sure of it.

Rollie cleared his throat and shifted uneasily, obviously uncomfortable at the questions.

"Rollie?" Angie stared at him, determined to get answers.

Not looking at his partner, the lanky Aussie picked at a thread on the couch and spoke softly, embarrassed. "I got fired."

"What?" Angie was surprised, Rollie was the best. Why would they fire him? "What did you do?" She asked, suspicious. She remembered him blowing up a drug stash once, thereby losing them their job on "X-treme Dreams". Not that she blamed him for that, but still...

"Nothing. Honest!" Rollie assured her. "Saturday, Whitmore asked me where you were. I told him you'd taken a couple of days off and would be back Wednesday. He yelled at me for giving you the time off. I told him you'd earned it and it wasn't any of his business anyway." Rollie shrugged. "I think he likes you, Ange."

Angie blinked in surprise. What? Jacob Whitmore liked her? He sure had a funny way of showing it, pulling those pranks on her boss and her.

Rollie took a deep breath and raised his right hand. "This happened Monday. Something, uh... um... I slipped and fell off the ladder to the roof." He wasn't about to tell Angie about the slippery substance on the higher rungs or that it was the roof of a one story building, not the van. No way. The situation was bad enough already. "Good thing it wasn't a higher fall." He looked at her, uncertainly. When Angie didn't say anything, he continued. "Then, after I got back from the emergency room, Kingston told me I was fired. He didn't need someone as clumsy as I was doing special effects. I might harm the star." Rollie grimaced as he mimicked the arrogant director. It had just been an excuse really. Kingston heard the rumblings of the film crew after Whitmore's last prank actually injured the FX man. Since he wasn't about to fire or punish his friend and star, he simply fired Rollie Tyler. End of problem.

Rollie peered into Angie's eyes, worried by her continued silence. Ouch, he winced, there was a rage in her eyes he seldom saw. If Angie had been furious before, she was a hundred times more angry now. Rollie wondered what he could say to still the anger inside of his partner, then he wondered why he should bother. Star and director had asked for it. After all, HE hadn't done anything wrong. Rollie just hoped she wouldn't cause too much trouble. Tyler FX didn't need a lawsuit or criminal charges filed against it or any of it's employees.

Angie knew Rollie wasn't telling her everything, but remembering the pranks of the past week, she had her suspicions of what had occurred. She was furious! How dare they?!? So Mister Whitmore liked her, did he? Well, he wouldn't like this! She carefully rubbed the brace on her partner's wrist, Angie was going to go over there and give Mister Kingston and Mister Whitmore a piece of her mind and then... and then, what? What would she do? Angie smiled as she suddenly knew exactly what she would do. Rollie deserved a treat and she owed him an apology, what better why do both than to take her boss out to his favorite expensive restaurant. She felt Rollie shift nervously beside her and her smile broadened. "Go home and take a nap, Rol. Be ready to go out by six," she eyed his normal casual attire of jeans and T-shirt thoughtfully, "wear something nice." Maybe they'd go to a movie after they ate dinner.

"Angie?" Rollie asked nervously. Now what was she up to? Just when he thought he had her pegged, she pulled something different on him.

"Just be ready. Don't worry, I promise I won't cause too much mayhem." Angie smiled and gently kissed his bruised check. "I'll be there by six."

Rollie sighed and after a last uncertain look at his partner, he left her apartment. Okay, so she was going raise a row, he knew that. But why did he have to dress up? Puzzled, the lanky FX man headed home.

Angela Ramirez slipped quietly into the old converted brewery that once upon a time belonged to her father. It had felt good taking pieces out of the two men. Their behavior had been juvenile and unforgivable. The memory of their mouths hanging open when she left was a good one. The only thing that could have made it sweeter would have been having Rollie there to witness it. Careful consideration told Angie that he would have been embarrassed and so it was good that he had missed the event. After ripping star and director verbally to pieces, she returned to her apartment, showered and changed. She thoughtfully picked out a soft taupe pant suit. A compromise between dressed up and casual. Rollie would be more comfortable if he didn't feel forced into a tie. This outfit would show Rollie he could dress in a suit with an open necked shirt and not have to worry about the constricting neckwear.

Blue barked a greeting to his mistress. "Hey Blue, where's Rollie?" The little robot dog looked up toward Rollie's loft. Angie climbed the familiar stairs and found her partner still asleep. For a moment, she watched the Aussie. He slept in a tidy bundle, buried under the covers. Angie chewed her lower lip as she considered letting the tired man sleep himself out. Rollie had really looked exhausted. A good night's sleep would probably be welcome.

Just as she decided to leave quietly, the Aussie woke and peered at her groggily. "Angie? What time is it?" He looked at the clock next to his bed. "Damn. Sorry sweetie, I didn't think I'd sleep that long."

"That's okay, Rollie. Go back to sleep, we can do this some other time."

"No, no," Rollie stretched and pushed the covers back. "I'm awake. It'll just take a minute to get dressed up."

"Okay," Angie told him, "take your time, there's no hurry. Give a yell when you're ready." Before leaving her apartment, she had called Rollie's favorite restaurant and made reservations. The maitre d' assured her that he would hold their favorite table until seven thirty.

"Yeah, okay. I'll take a quick shower then." Rollie headed for the bathroom, while Angie went downstairs.

After fussing around downstairs for a few minutes, Angie headed up into the clean room. She was surprised to find a large, tastefully wrapped present in her chair. The wrapping paper was silver and the ribbon was gold. She picked up the gift and sat down in her chair. She regarded the offering thoughtfully. That it was from Rollie was obvious. What wasn't obvious was why he felt the need to give it. She carefully unwrapped the present and stared in greater surprise at the beautiful blouse. It was a rich blue and very similar in style to the ruined blouse she had... Angie blinked her eyes to stop the tears... that she had thrown into Rollie's trash can. Apparently, Rollie felt he had to make amends for the blouse and this was his way of doing it. She lifted it from it's place in the tissue paper and noticed another small box tucked in with it. This one was a small black velvet jewelry box and had a white ribbon tied around it. She regarded the tiny box thoughtfully. Angie carefully changed her blouse for the new one. One hand brushed the soft material. It felt wonderful.

"Angie! I'm ready." Rollie called from the first floor, bringing her out of her thoughts.

"Coming!" One hand grabbed the little jewelry box. "Rollie?" She stared uncertainly at her best friend, a few steps from the bottom.

"Um," Rollie regarded Angie in her new blouse for a second, then ducked his head. "I... uh, I tried to find another one like the one you... had, but... they were sold out. That was... that was the closest I could come to it. I'm sorry I couldn't find the same style. I know... I know you really loved that blouse. I..."

"Rollie, hush!" She tenderly smiled at her partner. "I love this one! I really wanted one of these, but I knew I could never afford it. Thank you, you shouldn't have done it, but thank you!"

Rollie smiled boyishly and looked up at her shyly. "You like it then?"

"Yes, I really do! Thank you," Angie looked at the unopened box in her hand, "but what's this for?" She held up the box for Rollie to see.

Rollie squirmed like a little boy and looked away. That had been an impulse, he'd seen the jewelry on the way out of the store and decided to buy one for his best friend. He blushed. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times, but nothing came out. How could he tell her it was a going away present? That he knew she would be working for ILM now.

"Should I open it?" Angie asked her speechless boss.

Rollie nodded mutely and watched anxiously as she carefully removed the ribbon and opened the box. Part of him relaxed at her pleased gasp. He hadn't been sure if she would like it. It really had been an impulse.

"Oh Rollie!" Angie lifted the pendant up to catch the light. The silver angel with blue eyes was beautifully detailed. "Put it on for me?"

Rollie nodded and moved to stand by his partner. Angie came down so they were on level with each other and he carefully fastened the delicate chain around her neck. The angel nestled perfectly at the base of her throat. Rollie felt his own throat close at the sight. He hoped Angie never discovered the "silver" angel was white gold and the eyes were Australian blue sapphires. Rollie had searched uncertainly for the perfect angel for his angel among the ones displayed in the jewelry case. It hadn't been until the saleslady led him to a case of more expensive jewelry that he found it. The small white gold angel took his breath away and the Australian sapphires seemed to clinch the decision in his heart. Blue eyes for his blue eyed angel. This way, Angie would take a little something to represent the large piece of him that would go with her when she left for her new job and life.

Angie touched the small angel gently and smiled at Rollie. She kissed his bruised cheek again. She didn't know why Rollie had gotten the pendant, but it was beautiful and she would treasure it forever. She watched him blush again. "Come on, I made reservations at Aureole. Let's go eat!"

So, they were going to celebrate Angie's new life, Rollie thought, as he offered his arm to her. He escorted her to his sports car and opened the passenger door. After helping her into the car, Rollie moved to the driver's side. He would be glad for her, when she told him. He would, he pledged to himself, even as his heart was breaking. It would be so lonely without Angie here. Rollie took a deep breath to prepare himself for the evening, Angie mustn't know how much saying good-bye hurt him. She had to go joyously to her new life and not be held back by him. He opened the door and climbed in behind the steering wheel.

Angie watched her unusually subdued partner covertly. Something was going on. She didn't know what it was, but something had taken the spirit out of her best friend and partner. She just hoped she could put some of the spark back into his eyes. This evening together should help. They seldom got chances to be together like this, just the two of them, even though they both enjoyed the quiet moments.

While they sat waiting for a traffic light to change, Angie spoke softly. "Rollie..." she cleared her throat awkwardly, "Rollie, I have to apologize."

Rollie blinked and looked over at her, slightly surprised. Did Angie feel she had to apologize for living her life? He opened his mouth to say something, but stilled when she placed a hand on his arm.

"Let me say this, Rollie." Angie looked at her hands and fidgeted nervously. "I... When we first met, I was so rude and mean... and I never... I never thanked you for helping me that day. That's not all. I... um... I borrowed some of your money. I always meant to pay all of it back and I will... I'll pay back what I took and for the ticket..."

Ticket? What ticket? And what day? Rollie wondered, bewildered. What was Angie talking about?

"The bus ticket you didn't get to use, because you had to rescue me... me..."

Oh, Rollie thought, that day! That ticket! "I... um... that's okay, Ange. I sort of forgot about that ticket. It wasn't your fault that... that... bastard grabbed you." Thinking about it now, he began to wonder about something else. "Angie, just what were you doing at the bus station?"

"I had to stop you. It was my fault and I couldn't let you go... I... I... never told you... the squibs... the squibs that didn't work... I... sabotaged them. I knew it would make Dad mad if they didn't work. I..."

Rollie sat considering, the squibs hadn't worked because she had sabotaged them... him? Angie had sabotaged his squibs when she was eleven years old. That was... a bit of a surprise. It certainly wasn't what he expected her to say. She'd been wrecking merry havoc with his life at the time. "Angie, thinking about it, I can't say I'm... totally... surprised, but why did you have to stop me? You didn't even like me! You..."

"I... heard Dad talking on the phone to... He said... I found.... That's when I found out you had lost your mother, too. I couldn't let you go like that then. I didn't know until... that..." Angie stumbled to a stop. She hadn't expected her apologies to go like this, she sounded like she was still eleven!

Rollie took a deep breath, then startled by an angry honk behind him, realized the light had changed. He drove on. "Oookay. You found out my mum was dead and you felt bad because you sabotaged the squibs... And you nicked some of my money...." He glanced over at her. "Is there anything else?" He asked, curious about how far Angie would go with her confessions.

Angie considered briefly the possibility of mentioning the book. Rollie was taking this pretty well, all things considered. Maybe mentioning the book would be a mistake. That it was important was plain to her now, but... "Um, no.... no, I don't think so. Except that I'm sorry I was such a brat last week. You deserved my support, not more grief."

"Yeah, well I won't pretend that some of that didn't hurt, Ange. Yeah, some of it was kind of funny, but... we should stick together in those types of situations."

"You're absolutely right, Rollie and I am sorry!" Angie rubbed thoughtfully at an imaginary spot on her knee. "It won't happen again!"

Rollie pulled in front the townhouse that held Aureole and smiled with artificial brightness at his partner. "Well, here we are!"

Angie thoughtfully watched Rollie give his keys to the valet and come around to open her door. She was well and truly puzzled now, Rollie should be happy. He loved eating here, but he was acting like he was... like he was meeting backers or something. Was going out with her such a chore? And she'd just apologized! She'd even eaten crow for her bratty behavior when they first met. Why was Rollie still so upset? Losing the job on "Deadly Fate" shouldn't be bothering him this much. They had lost jobs before. So what was wrong with him? She wanted this to be a perfect evening and it wouldn't, unless Rollie gave her a little cooperation here.

Rollie gallantly escorted her inside and the maitre d' showed them to their favorite table. They sat and read the menu, like they didn't already know what they'd both order. They didn't come here so often that they ever strayed from their favorite selections.

Angie watched Rollie pick at his food, not really eating. She was getting really tired of him... sulking? pouting? Just what was Rollie doing? She considered the possibilities as she picked at her own food. The lobster was delicious, but she just couldn't eat it. Grieving? Angie sat up straighter as she realized Rollie was miserable and sad. He was trying very hard to hide it and he might get away with it with someone else, but not her. She knew him too well. But why? Had something happened while she was gone? Why hadn't Rollie told her? Suddenly, she had a horrible thought. What if... what if Rollie knew somehow about ILM's job offer? Did he really think she'd just leave him like that? Remembering the past week, Angie decided that's exactly what Rollie would think. She hadn't given him a reason to believe otherwise. How could she expect him to think differently? After all, Rollie expected everyone to leave him... sometime, a legacy of his mother's death and Dingo leaving him behind so often. Even Manny, in a way, had left him, when he pushed Rollie to strike out on his own. Angie remembered that particular conversation, she didn't think the men had known she was there. Rollie wanted to stay with Manny, he was perfectly content working with the older man. Manny had told Rollie he needed the experience and the reputation he would acquire working alone. Rollie had finally, reluctantly, agreed to go. Angie had doubted the wisdom of her father's act that day and she knew now that she was right. Though he never said a word, Angie knew Rollie had felt abandoned yet again. Rollie never complained about being left, he accepted it and now he felt she was leaving him too. Well, I don't think so Rollie Tyler, this time, there is someone who will stay with you. In this single quiet moment, Angie's decision crystallized. As attractive as the offer from ILM was, she was staying with Tyler FX. It was where she belonged and more importantly it was where she was truly needed.

"Rollie?" Angie began quietly.

"Yeah Ange?" Rollie answered. Here it comes, he thought pensively.

"You know that FedEX letter I got? And those days I took off?"

"Yes, Angie, I do know." Rollie shoved the pain down deep inside and prepared to reassure Angie about her decision. "I know it was from ILM. I also bet they made a great offer. It's a wonderful opportunity for you! You'll do great!" He ended as enthusiastically as he could.

"Um, Rollie. I'm not accepting the offer." Angie hoped Rollie believed her and would feel better.

"What?!? Angie are you crazy? Industrial Light and Magic is every FX artist's dream!"

"Not yours." Angie spoke, suddenly certain.

"Well, no. But that's because I never wanted to specialize. I... I enjoy doing everything. But, Angie, you wouldn't have to do any more of the messy stuff. Just think, no more explosions or fake blood in your hair or..."

"Rollie. Shut up." Angie smiled and teased. "Are you recruiting for ILM now?"

Rollie blinked startled. "Well no, but it's a great chance for you! You can show everyone what you can do in computer effects!" He hesitated a second. "And you wouldn't have to deal with the um, Batman and Commissioner Gordon stuff. Just think, no more cops and robbers."

Angie regarded the man sitting across from her thoughtfully. So, Rollie had been listening when she objected, he just did it anyway. "Maybe. But then I'd be worrying long distance. About you getting into trouble and who would get you out if I'm not here."

"You don't have to worry about me, Angie. I'll be okay. I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself. Angie, please! Don't let me stop you from doing what's right for you. Please. Manny would never forgive me for getting in your way."

"You're absolutely right, Rollie. I shouldn't let you get in the way of what's right for me!" Angie responded, determined. She saw Rollie's shoulders slump a bit, though he tried very hard not to let her see his reaction. "And what's right for me is Tyler FX! Not Industrial Light and Magic!"

"Angie."

"No! You listen to me, Rollie Tyler. I say Tyler FX is where I belong and I mean it! There's still a lot I can learn from you and... I'm not leaving you."

"Angie, don't. Don't make your choice so hastily. ILM is a great opportunity. You'll get to work on the Star Wars movies. State of the art equipment! No more scrounging and making do."

"Rollie. I said I'm staying and you are not changing my mind. I know what my father did to get you to leave and it won't work with me."

Rollie stared at Angie like she had suddenly grown another head. She knew? Oh dear, he hadn't expected that. What else did Angie know?

"Rollie, I think what Dad did was wrong. I think he should have let you stay, but I can't change that. It's over and done." She stabbed the air with her fork, emphasizing each word. "You. Will. Not. Change. My. Mind. And it isn't a 'hasty' decision, I've been thinking about this ever since I read that letter." She checked carefully to see if Rollie had gotten the point. Considering that he looked like a fish trying to breathe out of water, she thought it was time to change the discussion a bit. "How did you know that letter was from ILM?"

Rollie blinked and shook his head. "Um. Well."

"You were offered a job with them too. Weren't you? When?" Angie asked, suddenly excited again. Obviously, they were doing even better than she thought if ILM had tried to recruit both of them.

"Well. Yeah. I, uh, I got three letters from them." Rollie stared at his plate, not really seeing anything. "The last one... the last one was a couple of years ago. It was sort of an open invitation."

"Rollie! That's great! Why didn't you say something? What did you think of Skywalker Ranch? Did you meet George Lucas?"

"Whoa, whoa! Hold it, Ange. I got the letters, yeah, but... I never had time to visit and check them out. There was always something else to do." Rollie sounded wistful. "What was it like? Did you see George Lucas?"

"Oh yeah! Oh man, Rol, it was great!" Angie answered, enthusiastic and happy. Rollie had accepted her decision, she could tell. She gladly shared her visit to ILM and Skywalker Ranch with Rollie in between bites of her lobster.

Rollie began to eat his dinner, asking an occasional question about something she said, obviously interested in her answers. He laughed when she told him one of the aliens in the creature shop reminded her of his Beanie Baby, Patti Platypus.

The dinner ended as perfectly as Angie could have wished. They companionably shared a delicious chocolate desert, a specialty of the restaurant, and cups of coffee. Both of them were full and content by the time they ate the last bite.

Angie looked up at her lanky partner as they waited for the valet to return with Rollie's red Acura NSX. The Aussie's eyes were drooping, obviously he was ready to go to bed. No movies tonight, she thought to herself. Maybe next time, promising herself there would be a next time. They should do this more often. "Maybe I should drive?" Angie offered.

Rollie regarded the blonde thoughtfully. He opened his mouth to object, but then shrugged. "Sure, if you want," he told her, just as his car stopped in front of them.

"I want. I like my drivers awake, thank you very much." Angie got in the driver's seat while the valet held the door. She adjusted the seat for her shorter legs and looked over at Rollie, making certain he fastened his seat belt.

"Sorry. It's been a long week. I hope I didn't spoil your evening, Angie."

"Not at all, Rollie. It was perfect. We should do things like this more often." Angie echoing her earlier thoughts as she pulled into traffic.

Rollie nodded, content that his partner was staying with him. He yawned. "Sorry."

"Stop apologizing and get some sleep tonight, Rol."

The brown haired man nodded in sheepish agreement.

"So, since we're out of a job, what are we suppose to do tomorrow?"

"Work on the never-ending project?" Rollie offered tentatively, referring to the virtual reality game they were developing for Osaka. It was perpetually changing to the demands of the Japanese electronics firm. Rollie had a sneaking suspicion that the project really would never end, the suits just took what he and Angie developed and incorporated the latest developments into their newest games. Since they paid well and were perfectly happy with the results, he didn't object, especially since they no longer gave Tyler FX deadlines to meet and allowed them to use the results as well.

"Sounds good to me."

The rest of the drive was quiet. Angie was wrapped in her thoughts and when they reached the workshop, she saw Rollie had fallen asleep. He looked so peaceful, Angie decided there was something... childlike and innocent about Rollie asleep. Awake, he was boyishly enthusiastic and occasionally juvenile, but he seldom displayed his innocence as he did now. She smiled, then reluctantly reached over to wake him. "Rollie. We're home. Wake up." The blonde spoke softly, not wanting to startle her friend, shaking his shoulder gently.

"Huh? Wha'?" Rollie woke and yawned again. He blinked owlishly at Angie. "Sorry."

"Go to bed, Rol. I'll see you in the morning."

"Hmm. Okay. Take the car, Ange. It's kind of late."

Mildly amused by his protectiveness even while falling asleep, Angie agreed. "Okay. Good night, Rollie. Sweet dreams."

"G'night, sweetie. You too."

Angie waited until Rollie ambled inside before leaving for her own apartment and bed.

Angie bounded inside the brewery around nine thirty, happy to be back at work and no longer facing the prank du jour. She was a little surprised to find Rollie awake and talking on the phone. His hair was still damp from his shower and he was waving a coffee cup around in his hand. She eavesdropped on Rollie's half of the conversation while she poured herself a cup from the freshly perked pot of coffee.

"Yes, Mister Crown." ... "I understand perfectly." ... "Today? Well I don't know. We just..." ... "Oh?" ... "Well, yes, I can make it now." ... "Yes. Good bye." Rollie hung up the phone and shook his head, sighing.

"What was that all about? Who's Mister Crown?" Angie asked curiously.

"Mister Alexander Crown and his brother, Richard Crown, own and operate Crown Brothers Industries."

"CBI? Cute." Angie was amused by the acronym. It sounded like one of the acronyms writers came up with for an alphabet soup law enforcement agency.

"Anyway, they, among other things, manage The Questions."

"The Questions? Rollie, I love their music! It is so cool!" Angie bounced excitedly. "They have the perfect blend of rock, blues and jazz! They're suppose to have a new album coming out soon. I can't wait to get it!"

"Yes, well, I may get a sneak peak at some of the music," Rollie teased and tantalized his partner.

"Rollie? What? Come on? Tell me! Stop tormenting!"

"Seems the Crown Brothers and The Questions like the work Tyler FX has done in the movies. They're thinking about using us on their next music video." Rollie stated casually.

"Yes!" Angie danced happily around the lounge area, much to Rollie's amused delight.

"It's not set yet, sweetie." Rollie cautioned. "I have to go talk to the Crowns and then, well, we'll see what happens."

"Rollie, if you screw this up and we don't get the job," Angie mock threatened her boss. She made wringing motions with her hand, clearly implying her hands around Rollie's neck. This was so cool! They'd never done a music video and it was one of her favorite groups too!

"Yes, well, we'll have to see. I guess I better change into suit mode." Rollie laughed as he went upstairs to change from jeans and T-shirt to a more business-like attire.

Rollie paused on the way out for Angie's stamp of approval for his black suit and shirt. Having received it, he departed, humming one of The Questions' hit songs.

Angie managed to wait a full five minutes before tearing upstairs. Now was her chance to look for the book and she didn't want to waste this golden opportunity. The blonde hesitated at the top of the stairs. Where would Rollie put a book that he valued, but was probably unreadable? She searched his closet, though she knew she'd never seen signs of it there. She'd been in Rollie's closet many times before - getting him a change of clothes because his had been ruined as the result of an effect gone awry, packing a bag as Rollie dashed out of town for an "urgent" meeting with the "big shots" or for a stay at the hospital, or just finding some odd something for a new effect that Rollie had stashed there for want of a better storage place. As she expected, nothing.

She sat on Rollie's unmade bed and considered her options. Where would Rollie put something like that? He'd want it close, she decided, but out of the way. It was personal, so that left out the rest of the brewery. It had to be in his living quarters on the third level. But where? The open area of the loft didn't provide a lot of storage space or hiding places. There was his chest, where he kept the things that didn't fit in the closet, but she'd been into it as often as the closet. There was even less room for Rollie's book to be hidden inside it. She didn't think he'd keep it in his bookshelf. It had to be unreadable after her abuse. She bounced thoughtfully on the bed, then stopped. Under the bed? She didn't keep anything except dust bunnies under her bed and the occasionally lost cat toy, but... It was a possibility, being one of the few places she hadn't looked for anything in the past.

Angie got on her knees and peered under the covers hanging over the edge. Darn, it was too dark. She'd need a flashlight and maybe a broom if it was pushed back further under the bed. She went downstairs to collect the needed items and looked again. There was what looked like a box near the head of the bed and in the middle. It might be big enough for the book and a few other things. She pushed and poked with the broom, prodding the box out on the other side of Rollie's bed. Blowing the dust off the cardboard box, Angie hesitated. This was Rollie's privacy she was violating. Did she really have a right to search this box? Didn't Rollie deserve to keep some things to himself and not have his nosy partner poking around in them? Angela Ramirez knew that if the situation was reversed, she would be furious with Rollie Tyler for searching her things. The blonde chewed her lower lip thoughtfully, considering. She didn't know when she'd get another chance to do this and she really wanted to do something about the book. It's significance had grown tremendously in her mind since last night. She wanted to do this for her partner, her best friend, her family. She just hoped Rollie would forgive her when he found out. She'd just look for the book, that would be immediately noticeable, and not look at anything else. Decided, Angie opened the box and looked inside.

Rollie walked toward the skyscraper containing the CBI offices. He didn't want to be late. Angie had been so excited by the news, it made him really want this job. It would make her so happy and it would be a new field for Tyler FX. They'd never done a music video. If this went well, it could open a whole new avenue for their work. He didn't pay any notice to the two men who joined him in the same compartment as he entered the revolving door, his attention focused on the upcoming meeting. He was startled when they pushed the door around too fast to get out. What?!?

"Tyler... Rollie."  Porter Kingston started uncertainly, no longer arrogant. They needed this man. The word had come from on high. The only special effects crew the backers would pay for was Tyler FX.

Rollie Tyler stared mutely at the men. His mouth thinned in fury. Porter Kingston and Jacob Whitmore. What did they want? Hadn't they done enough already?

The men stopped the revolving door, effectively pinning Rollie without an exit. He wasn't big enough to bully his way out. Not with the heavy director on one side and the actor on the other. "What?" Rollie asked angrily, unconsciously backing against the wall and cradling his injured wrist. He didn't trust or like this pair.

Jacob Whitmore looked at Rollie's bruised face and the slight lines of pain etched around his eyes. He flushed and looked down at his feet, abruptly ashamed. He winced as he remembered the lecture Angie Ramirez had given them yesterday. Was it only yesterday? His latest prank could have easily resulted in far more serious consequences. Rollie Tyler could have been permanently injured or killed as the result of that fall. If he hadn't had stunt experience to help... Whitmore swallowed nervously, very aware of his unprofessional behavior. His actions had been petty, foolish, juvenile... unforgivable. He had allowed his insecurities and paranoia to rule, instead of his head. Okay, so he'd faced problems with a couple of bigger boys bullying him growing up. Did that mean he should sink to their level now he was an adult? Tyler had been nothing less than professional. He'd also been friendly and helpful. It was a wonder, Rollie Tyler wasn't threatening to sue both of them. How could they ask this man to return? He looked uncertainly at his director and friend and frowned.

Porter Kingston looked at the angry man in front of them and groaned to himself. He hated swallowing his pride like this, this man was nothing. His type were a dime a dozen. He was the director, damn it! A good one! Special effects crews were readily available and yet... yet his backers, the men paying for his movie, insisted they use Tyler FX. Why? Why weren't they supporting him and his star? They were the irreplaceable ones, not Rollie Tyler, not Angie Ramirez. Nothings! Little fish! Unimportant! His arrogance was returning, stronger than ever. He opened his mouth to bully the FX man, to make him return to the movie, when he felt a touch on his arm. He looked angrily over at Jacob Whitmore, who shook his head in warning and his ego deflated again. He flushed, embarrassed all over again. He should never have fired Rollie Tyler in the first place. He should have put a stop to the pranks from the start, he knew that. It was part of his job as director to keep cast and crew together as a team. HE had allowed friendship to blind his professional judgment. They were in the wrong, not Rollie Tyler, not Tyler FX, and they did need Tyler FX, the backers were right. They were the best of the independents. That was the reason for hiring them in the first place.

The remaining crew were being... indifferent. Not that they weren't doing their jobs. No, never that, they just did it... reluctantly. Well, not that either, they acted like it was unimportant, just a job, getting each day over and done with... the spirit, the essence and teamwork of a good film crew had left with Tyler FX when Porter Kingston fired Rollie Tyler - unfairly.

Rollie took a deep breath to calm himself. "What do you want?" He pronounced each word clearly. He was proud of himself that he hadn't yelled or screamed. "Mister Kingston?"

"I... we want you to come back to work on 'Deadly Fate'. We... I didn't really mean it when I fired you. It was a mistake." There, he'd actually said it.

Suddenly amused, Rollie shook his head. "And why would I do something like that, Mister Kingston? It was not a good experience all around. I don't need jobs where I get hurt by the people I work with. I have to trust them." His face hardened and he continued coldly. "That last prank could have hurt someone else, seriously. Even my partner if she had been there. I don't think I want to come back to that chance. I won't risk Angie. You're both lucky, I was the one to fall, not someone else."

"You're right." Jacob Whitmore whispered. "And I... apologize." He spoke more strongly. "I know it's too late, but my behavior was rude, childish, foolish and unforgivable. I... I can only say I will never ever do anything like that ever again. I'm sorry, Mister Tyler."

Rollie examined the chastened actor thoughtfully. It appeared Jacob Whitmore was genuinely repentant, but then he was an actor. It was what he got paid to do. "I don't care what either of you has to say. Tyler FX is no longer doing 'Deadly Fate'. Now, if you'll excuse me, gentlemen," Rollie spoke sarcastically, "I have an appointment and I don't want to be late." He tapped one foot impatiently. The Aussie hoped they'd back off, this pair could easily keep him here long enough to miss his appointment and blow this new job. He had a feeling they were petty enough to do it... and enjoy it.

"Tyler, if you don't come back to work on 'Deadly Fate', the studio will shut down the movie. I know you. Some of the crew are your friends. You want them to lose their jobs too?" Kingston pushed what he thought were just the right buttons. Everyone knew Rollie Tyler would go out of his way to help a friend.

"No, Mister Kingston. That was your decision, not mine. You have to live with the consequences. My friends will get other jobs. It's not the first time a movie wasn't finished and it won't be the last. Maybe next time you'll think before you act. I didn't ask to be the brunt of those pranks. Neither did Angie. I did nothing wrong. You fired me. Now live with it." Rollie held his breath. If they didn't back off soon he would be too late for his appointment. He hoped Angie would forgive him for blowing this deal. If only he had paid more attention, he wouldn't be trapped in a revolving door with these prats. How stupid could it be? Trapped in a revolving door, it belonged in a bad movie!

"No Tyler! You listen and you listen good. You are coming back to work or I'll see to it that you never work again! You hear me! You and that precious assistant of yours will be on the unemployment lines and welfare for the rest of..." Porter Kingston raged, trying to intimidate the lean Australian.

Jacob Whitmore tugged urgently on his friend's sleeve. "Port... Port! PORT!"

"WHAT? Jake, it's your job too if..." The director snarled.

"Port, you're causing a scene. People are looking." Whitmore hissed.

Rollie looked carefully around and noticed that people were staring and even better a burly security guard was on  his way over. Maybe there was still time to meet his appointment. "I think this discussion is over, Mister Kingston. Mister Whitmore. I think we should get out of this door and out of the way."

Kingston reached over and grabbed the lanky Australian's by his battered wrist. "Tyler, we need you or the movie is shut down! Don't you understand?!?"

Rollie gasped and paled as the pain surged up his arm.

The first thing Angie saw in the box was an old framed black and white photograph. It was faded with time, but she clearly recognized a younger Dingo. A dark haired woman stood beside Dingo, with a toddler held securely in her arms. Obviously, this short, smiling woman was Rollie's mother and the toddler had to be Rollie.  She felt a pang as she gently touched this young version of her best friend. There were other old photos, most of them not framed. Beneath the photos was the object of her search - the book! Anxiously, the blonde moved the photos so she could lift it out.

The rest of the box's contents were forgotten as Angie stared at the book she remembered from her childhood. It was more battered and beaten than it had been the last time she'd seen it. The cover had been taped near the spine, an obvious attempt to keep the damaged book together. The words on the front were faded and dull with time - "Australian Animals in Nature and Folklore". Carefully, she opened the book and read the inscription on the front panel - To Mary, with all my love, be happy - Mother.  Below that was the name, Mary Crews, and below that, in a different ink and handwriting, was Mary Tyler. The book had belonged to Rollie's mother. Positive now, tears of remorse filled her eyes. Angie wished she could have prevented her younger self from damaging the book. Determined to repair the damage she had done, Angie returned the photos to the box and the box to it's place under the bed. She gathered the book up and went downstairs to hide it in the clean room.

Angie returned upstairs to tidy away the signs of her search. Finished, she settled in to work on the virtual reality game and wait for Rollie's return.
 

Whitmore groaned and reached over, prying his friend's grip off of the injured special effects expert. "Enough Porter! You're hurting him."

"What?" The director asked, almost in a daze. As if seeing Rollie for the first time, the larger man saw the brown haired man was pale and leaning heavily against the wall, eyes closed. "Tyler! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to..."

"Shut up, Port. We've done enough." Jacob Whitmore guided the shaken Aussie out of the revolving door after they turned it to open.

The security guard extracted the injured man from the actor's hands and helped him to a nearby chair. "Sir? Are you all right? Shall I call the police?" His hard gaze was locked on the two men who were the obvious culprits. The warning was clear - stay put or else!

"No. No, it's all right." Rollie gasped. "They didn't mean any harm. They just wanted to talk." At least, he hoped that's all they wanted. Hoped that Kingston's talk was just talk and that he hadn't meant to grab him by his injured wrist. He looked cautiously over at the chastened director and actor.

The security guard, Samisen was on the name tag on his uniform, looked uncertainly at the man in his charge and at his assailants. "If you're sure?" came the soft words.

Rollie straightened up and searched the other men's faces. He relaxed slightly. "Yes, I'm sure. It was an accident. I'm sorry we caused a commotion."

"You don't need to apologize, Mister Tyler," Jacob Whitmore spoke. "We do. It was entirely our fault and I'm sorry you got hurt again. Maybe you should see a doctor?"

"Yes," Porter Kingston agreed. "It was our, no, my fault. I'm sorry. I should never have acted like that. I don't..." He fumbled to a stop, unsure what to say.

"I think you've said and done enough, Mister Kingston. You have my answer." Rollie breathed a soft sigh of relief as the two men turned and left. He thought that Whitmore was genuinely sorry, but he wasn't certain about Kingston's control. If they came back to see him, he would call the police and file charges.

"Sir?" Samisen regained Rollie's attention. "Should I call someone? Is there anything we can get you?"

"No," Rollie started, then winced when he shifted his wrist. "Uh, I don't suppose you have some Tylenol or something?"

The receptionist from the front desk handed him two pills and a paper cup of water. "Here you go, two extra strength Tylenol's. Anything else?"

Rollie gratefully took the Tylenol and drank the water. He looked up and groaned when he saw the time on a wall clock. "Damn, I'm late." The Aussie stood too quickly and swayed.

Samisen and the receptionist pressed him back down in the chair.

"Who are you here to see?" The receptionist asked.

"The Crown Brothers. I was suppose to be there fifteen minutes ago. I'm Rollie Tyler."

She patted his shoulder. "I'll call up."

Rollie leaned back and rested under Samisen's watchful eyes, while he waited. He hoped he wasn't too late.

The receptionist returned a moment later. "Mister Tyler."

"Rollie," the Aussie responded automatically. He sat up, anxious.

"I'm sorry, Rollie." She continued. "The Crowns just left for the airport."

"Damn." Rollie whispered, then more loudly. "Thank you. I'm sorry to be a bother."

"You haven't been a bother, Mister Tyler." Samisen smiled as Rollie started to speak. "Sorry," he apologized and corrected himself. "Rollie. Can we get you anything else?"

"No, thank you." Rollie nodded toward the nearby coffee shop. "I'll just get a cup of coffee and go home. Thank you for your help." He smiled at the man and woman. The Aussie slowly stood and made his way over to the shop.

Samisen shook his head. "Thanks for the help, Cheryl." They walked over to her desk.

"No problem, Sammy. I think he's cute." Cheryl tilted her head to one side. "I wonder why those guys were hassling him. And why he was here to see the Crowns."

"Don't know," Sammy smiled, "but maybe we're going to find out." He tilted his head significantly toward the small man leaving the elevator.

"Trotter! If anybody knows, he does. Think he'll share this time?" Cheryl commented as she watched the blond man appreciatively. The Trotter was the Crown Brothers' personal assistant and general gofer, a job he was well qualified to handle since he had a photographic memory and patience to match. He also acted as roadie for Rory Bastion, lead singer for The Questions. The five foot five, slender man with the single long blond braid was an interesting contrast to the six foot four, husky black singer.

Sammy gave her a look. "Hey Trotter! How's it going?"

"Fairly well, Sammy. Jimmy still want to be a roadie?" The much smaller man spoke with a light British accent.

"You know he does." Sammy laughed. His son, Jimmy had wanted to be a roadie from the first time he'd met the Crowns and their friends.

"You still don't mind? I mean he hasn't started college yet." Trotter questioned furthered.

"Nope. The way I see it, he likes the job and keeps at it or he doesn't and goes on to college without a complaint. Since Mister A insists the younger roadies go to school when they're not touring, I can't lose. Either way he gets more education than his old man."

"True." The small blond agreed. "Cheryl, why did you call the Crowns for Mister Tyler?"

"Some men were hassling him in the revolving door. They wouldn't let him out." Cheryl answered carefully. "Rollie was hurting when they finally came out."

Rollie? mouthed Trotter, one eye brow raised in question.

"Yes, well he said to call him Rollie. He was nice, very polite." Cheryl defended, then grinned. "Like you! He has an accent too. Is he English?"

Bemused, the assistant answered. "No, actually he's Australian." He relented and answered their unspoken questions. "Mister Tyler's company was being considered for the special effects on The Questions' newest video." He frowned for a moment. "Alex and Rich weren't impressed by his missing his appointment though."

"It wasn't Rollie's fault, Trotter. Those bozos kept him in that revolving door a good ten, fifteen minutes." Sammy gave the younger man a sharp look. It wasn't fair if the Crowns continued to blame the poor man for something completely out of his control.

Trotter nodded thoughtfully. "Has he left?"

"No, he went to get some coffee." The security guard answered. "Trotter, do you know why those men were giving Rollie such a hard time?"

"Not really, but I can guess. Were they both about five eight? One with medium brown hair, the other with black hair and fairly heavy?" At the twin nods, he continued. "Alex heard Rollie Tyler was fired from his last job by the director when one of his leading man's pranks misfired and hurt him. At a guess, they were trying to get him to come back to work on the film. Word is the studio won't pay another special effects company."

"That makes sense from what little I heard." Sammy straightened. "There he is."

"So that's Rollie Tyler." Trotter observed thoughtfully as he watched the dejected man leave the building. "Well, he certainly looks the worse for wear. Excuse me, Sammy, Cheryl. I have some phone calls to make." He turned to go, then paused. "Oh, and Sammy, tell Jimmy he has a job on the next Questions' tour, but he better be prepared to work his tail off."

Samisen laughed, "I'll tell him, Trotter. Thanks."
 

Rollie parked the car next to his pickup and rested his head against the steering wheel. Damn. He hated going in and telling Angie he'd lost the job. She'd been so thrilled by the opportunity and he'd stupidly blown it. All because he hadn't been paying attention! Oh well, he had to face the music sometime, and laughed bitterly to himself. Better to get it over now.  Rollie entered the workshop and called hesitantly. "Angie?"

"Hey, Rol! How'd the interview go?" Angie asked as she came around to the front of the workshop. She stopped cold when she got a good look at Rollie. He looked miserable and she could swear he'd gotten paler. "Rollie, are you okay?" She hurried to his side.

"I'm... Ange," Rollie stared hopelessly at her, then shrugged, "I missed the interview. We didn't get the job." He wondered over to his striped chair and sat down. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I blew it!" His head hung down and he didn't look at her. He couldn't look at her right now.

"Oh, Rollie. What happened?" Angie sank to her knees beside him and pushed his hair back, trying to see into his eyes.

"I wasn't paying attention! That's what happened!" Rollie exploded. If his wrist didn't hurt so much, he'd throw something. He was so mad at himself.

"Rol? Come on, tell me." Angie asked in a soothing voice.

Rollie took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Kingston and Whitmore cornered me on the way in. They want us to come back to work on 'Deadly Fate'."

"Well, I hope you told them no!" Angie asserted. The very thought of returning to the movie made her mad.

"Yeah, 'cept they didn't want to listen. At least Kingston didn't and I couldn't get away from them. We were in a revolving door and they wouldn't let me out." He hated admitting that, it was so embarrassing. Trapped in a revolving door by those prats!

"It wasn't your fault, Rollie." Angie assured him, patting his knee. "Are you okay?" She was still worried, nothing he'd said explained why he was so pale. He was hurting more than before, she could tell.

"Yeah, well, Kingston sort of...  accidentally grabbed me by the wrist. It bloody hurts!"

"Oh, Rollie." Angie gently examined the injured wrist, trying to see if Rollie should go back to the doctor. "Maybe we should sue him."

"And accomplish what? No, Angie, we won't sue." Rollie reached over and placed his hand over her mouth before she could protest. "But, if they come back around and bother either one of us again, I will file a complaint with the police."

"You promise you'll actually do that if they come back around?"

"Promise." Rollie made a solemn "cross my heart" move with his left hand.

"Okay." Angie accepted the vow. "Do you think you should go back to the doctor's?"

Rollie shook his head, grateful Angie wasn't more upset. He still felt bad about blowing the job.

"All right, if you're sure. Do you want something? Some pain killers or tea or something?"

"I've already taken some Tylenol. I'll be fine. Some tea would be nice though."

"Okay, I'll make some." Angie moved over to the little stove on the first level.

"And I'll change clothes." Rollie went upstairs and changed back into his jeans and T-shirt.

The tea helped settle both of them and they got down to business, discussing ways to reduce the amount of heat put out by the microchip used by the virtual reality game. Osaka wanted the game smaller, but if they didn't do something about the temperature, it would continually fry itself. They'd been at it for a couple of hours, when they were interrupted by a knock.

Angie glared at the door. "If that's Kingston or Whitmore, they're going be sorry," she growled as she went to answer the door.

"Easy, Ange. It could be anybody." Rollie watched and waited, curious about who was visiting them now.

When Angie said a polite "May I help you?" part of him relaxed. She wouldn't be that nice if it was them. He was surprised when she escorted three men in. Two were a bit shorter than him, with short, light brown hair and very expensive business suits. The third was shorter than Angie, casually dressed in black jeans and T-shirt and had the longest hair he'd ever seen on a man. The blond hair was wrapped in a braid that fell to his hips. Undone, Rollie thought it might actually reach his knees. If it hadn't been for the third man, Rollie would have thought they were lawyers.

Angie grinned like a Cheshire cat as she announced their guests. "Rollie, Mister Alexander and Richard Crown, and their assistant, Trotter."

Rollie blinked in surprise, then leaped to his feet. "Mister Crown and Mister Crown. I'm sorry I was late this morning..."

"No, Mister Tyler. No need to apologize. We heard about that little, um, incident." The older brother, Alexander Crown spoke. "It certainly wasn't your fault." He regarded the man in front of him carefully. "Are you all right?"

"Please, just Rollie, and I'm fine. Thank you. But... I thought you'd left town. The receptionist said something about you being on your way to the airport." The Aussie said, a bit bewildered.

Richard Crown chuckled softly. "We were, but we delayed our departure. The Questions are very interested in your and Ms. Ramirez' work in special effects." He bowed slightly to the pretty blonde, flirting just a bit. "And if we're going to be informal, I'm Rich, and this is Alex." He grinned wickedly. "And The Trotter is always Trotter."

Angie smiled at the men. Usually, the people hiring them completely ignored her. The Crowns had obviously done a bit of research. A surreptitious glance at Rollie showed he was pleased by their acknowledgment of her work as well.

"Yes, well, I couldn't do half of what I do without Angie. She's the best partner I could ever hope for."

Angie stood a bit straighter at the praise. It was good to be appreciated and it was good to be called partner, publicly. She hugged the warm glow Rollie's words had caused deep into her heart. Not just partner, but "Best partner".

Rollie noticed Angie's response and promised himself that Angie would get more credit in the future. She deserved it and it was past time for the producers and directors to realize just how hard she worked. Tyler FX was a partnership, not a one man shop. Time for the rest of the world to find that out.

The Crowns talked with them for over an hour, going over the ideas that the band had about the video. Rollie and Angie pointed out some expensive difficulties some of the ideas could cause, and offered alternatives. Trotter listened to the discussion carefully. He knew that if Alex or Rich had questions about what the special effects people said later, he'd have to answer most of them. He'd probably have to explain it to Rory and the rest of the band as well.

"Well, Rollie, Angie. Thank you for your time. It's been a real pleasure." Alex stood up. It was time for them to get out to L.A., they'd delayed too long as it was. "If you don't mind, I'll have a contract drawn up and sent over for your approval." He smiled as he shook Angie's hand, and switched to his left hand to shake with Rollie as well.

Rich followed his brother and added. "We'll send over the story boards as soon as we get them. And Trotter will arrange our schedules so we can get the shooting done." He twicked the long braid on the smaller man.

"The shoot shouldn't take more than a week. I'm sure we can arrange everything." Rollie responded as they escorted their visitors to the door. "Thank you for taking time to come by. I really appreciate it, Alex, Rich."

As soon as the door was closed, Angie began dancing around the room. Releasing the excitement, she'd kept under total control. "Yes! Rollie, this is great. We are doing the newest Question video, mate!"

Rollie just leaned against the door and smiled widely. It was good to see Angie so happy.

Five weeks later, Angie Ramirez wasn't happy. She was worried sick, scared and furious. She'd been setting the effect for the last scene of the music video when a car careened through the shoot. She remembered the sound of the engine gunning as it headed straight for her and Rory Bastion. Stunned, they'd stood there like frightened deer caught in headlights, until Rollie slammed into them, knocking them out of the way. Putting himself directly in the hit and run's path. The ex-stuntman tried to roll with the impact, but was knocked into a nearby parked car. The sight of Rollie's still body had etched itself on her eyes and in her brain. No matter where she turned she still saw him... just laying there, looking like a discarded rag doll. Now, Angie waited anxiously for word on how badly he was injured. The only thing she knew for sure was Rollie had not regained consciousness when the ambulance left to take him to the hospital.

Alex Crown came over with a cup of coffee and handed it to her. He drove her here, following the ambulance as closely as possible, but in the late afternoon traffic, he'd been unable to keep up. One look, and he didn't ask her if she'd heard anything. He could tell she hadn't. He felt responsible for the accident. The street was closed, how did that driver get on it? It was his job to take care of the band and crew, to keep them safe. Right now, the crew included Rollie and Angie. He'd failed in his self-appointed task and he didn't know where he'd gone wrong. Rory was safe, thanks to Rollie, but at what cost? He fidgeted, then started pacing.

Angie watched him for a couple of minutes. Alex was making her even more nervous. She wished something would happen. Top on her list, was someone to come and tell her how Rollie was doing. But she would settle for any distraction at the moment. The man and woman that entered a moment later were a very welcome sight. Angie jumped up. "Francis, Mira! Thanks for coming." As if they wouldn't come, the detectives were Rollie's friends. They were worried too.

"We got here as quick as we could," Francis said, giving her a tight hug. "I take it you haven't heard anything yet."

Angie shook her head. If only they'd come with news. Rollie had to be okay! The longer it was taking, the more afraid she was getting that something was seriously wrong.

"Well, there's no word on the driver or car yet, but everybody's been alerted. We'll catch the creep!" Mira assured the younger blonde.

"I hope so, Mira. I just wish they'd come tell me how Rollie's doing."

"Angie." Alex called softly and nodded toward the double doors leading to the emergency treatment rooms. The doctor headed for the blonde.

"Ms. Ramirez?" The woman asked.

"Yes. Rollie?" Angie asked anxiously, "Is he okay?"

"I'm Doctor Catherine Sinclair. Mister Tyler is doing fine. He has a concussion and some contusions. We'll be keeping him overnight for observation, but he should be able to go home tomorrow."

"Are you sure?" Angie asked, not fully convinced. "He was still unconscious when the ambulance..."

"I'm sure. Mister Tyler woke up in the ambulance. He was unconscious less than fifteen minutes. He's also been asking for you, Ms. Ramirez. So, if you'll go and assure him that you're all right, the nurses will be eternally grateful. He's in room 716."

"Thank you, Doctor Sinclair." Angie answered, relieved. "I'll do that."

The others held back, allowing Angie to go in to see her partner alone. She smiled when she saw Rollie was awake.

"Angie! Sweetie, are you okay?" Worried brown eyes searched for signs of injuries or harm. "I'm sorry, I..."

"Hush, Rollie. It's okay, I'm fine." Angie soothed. "I'm just glad you're okay. You scared me, Rol. I was worried sick."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, sweetie. It's just..."

"Shhh. It's okay, Rollie. I know you didn't. It's just that you didn't wake up and I was so scared and then it took them so long to give us any news and..."

Rollie held his arms open, inviting Angie for a hug. He knew they both needed it. They both needed the warmth and the added reassurance the other was all right.

Angie moved quickly into Rollie's warm embrace and carefully returned the Aussie's hug. She needed the hug and so did Rollie, but she didn't want to hurt him or aggravate his concussion. It certainly wouldn't help if Rollie threw up.

"Don't fret, Ange. They'll let me out tomorrow. I'm fine. Struth, I'm glad you're okay! When I saw that car heading for you..." Rollie trailed off and shivered.

"Well, it didn't hit me or Rory, thanks to you. I just wish you'd learn how to yell, instead of leaping into things."

"Sorry, Angie. I just couldn't risk it. I had to get you out of the way."

"I know." Angie whispered as the others entered the room, then reluctantly pulled out of the hug.

"Hey Rollie. How you doing?" Francis asked, examining the taller man.

"I'm fine, Frankie. You know me. I've got a hard head."

Mira snorted. "You got that right, Rollie. A very hard head." She grinned. "Right, Angie?"

"Yeah," Angie replied, "a very hard head." Only Rollie heard the whispered, "Thank God."

Rollie pretended to pout a bit. But finally, he had to ask. "Did you get the driver?"

"No," Francis shook his head, "but there's an A.P.B. out with a partial tag number and description of the car. Don't worry, Rollie, we'll get the driver."

"How'd you get the tag?" Rollie asked, curious. It'd happened so fast, he barely remembered the car. Just dark and large, mostly. He thought it was a Chrysler, but wasn't positive.

Alex Crown chuckled, "Trotter saw it. And what Trotter sees..."

"Trotter remembers."  Angie remembered Rich telling them about the man's memory. "He really does have a photographic memory?"

"Yes, he does." Alex assured  her. "It makes life a whole lot easier for us. Rollie, I'm sorry about what happened. I'm glad you're doing okay. CBI will cover all the medical costs."

"It wasn't your fault, Alex. And we do have insurance, you know." Rollie cocked his head to one side, curious about the elder Crown's reaction.

"I know, but it'll make me feel better. Okay?" Alex told him.

"All right, if you insist." The Aussie surrendered, recognizing the guilt trip.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll let the others know you're all right." Alex turned to leave.

"What about the video?" Rollie asked. "There's only the one scene left."

Alex turned back, surprised. "It can wait, and... I'm not sure we'd feel right about..."

Rollie clucked his tongue. "Alex, Alex, Alex. You're old enough to know better. It'll be a good video. Angie can finish it, you don't need me for the rest." He glanced at Angie, his eyes urging her agreement.

"Yeah," Angie responded, "I can do it, no problem. Now that we know Rollie's okay, it'll be easy."

Alex frowned slightly, "I'm not sure."

"Come on, Alex. There's only one scene left, then it's done. All that'll be left is post production." Rollie sighed dramatically and tried to look pathetic. "Of course, if you want to waste all our hard work..."

"Okay, okay, we'll finish the video." Alex laughed and waved his hands in surrender.

"Good. Because it's going to be a great video." Rollie grinned. "Go finish up, Angie. I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay, Rollie. You rest." Angie smiled, then continued, teasing her friend. "You'll have plenty of people waking you up all night, better get some sleep while you can."

Rollie grumbled. "Don't remind me. I hate it! They always wake you up, asking the most asinine questions."

Angie kissed Rollie's forehead. "Don't give them a hard time, boss. They're just doing their job, taking care of you."

Rollie laughed lightly. "Go on, get out of here. And you get some rest too, Ange."

Francis hung back after every one else said good bye to the special effects expert. "You need anything Rollie? I'll be glad to get it for you."

"No, thanks Francis. Angie'll bring me a change of clothes in the morning. It's just one night, thank goodness."

"Okay, but you're going to look pretty suspicious by then." Referring to Rollie's beard.

Rollie laughed. "I know. I'll be fine." He turned serious and continued. "I hope you catch that prat, Francis. He could have killed Angie."

"Are you sure it was a man, Rollie?" Francis asked. They didn't have a description of the driver. Even the sex would help.

Rollie considered, trying to remember those hectic, terrifying moments. "Yeah, yeah I'm sure. It was a man. A white man, older than me, maybe in his late forties."

"Can you remember anything else? Hair? Clothes? Anything?"

Rollie thought hard. "I'm not sure what color his hair was, but it was a lighter color and short. I don't remember anything else. Sorry, Francis."

"That's okay, Rollie. I'll add it to the A.P.B., it'll help." Francis patted his shoulder. "You get some rest. We'll catch this one for you."

"Thanks, Francis."

Mira joined her partner in the hall. "So what's up?"

"Rollie saw the driver. Definitely male, white, light colored short hair, maybe in his late forties." Francis caught his fellow detective's look. "Okay, I know it's not much, but it's more than we had. It'll give us more to go with when we check out those partials."

"Yeah, it will. And it is more than we had before." Mira slapped her partner's arm. "Let's go check out that list of plates."

Finishing the scene didn't take long. Angie was glad the day's work was over. She had a pick up to make. The blonde said good bye to The Questions, the Crown Brothers, Trotter and the rest of their crew. She assured them Rollie would be fine. One last promise to Alex to call if they needed anything or if there was any news on the hit and run. She left with the well wishes of their newest friends warming her heart. One last stop, then she could go home.

The day after finding and smuggling the book that had belonged to Rollie's mother out of the workshop, Angie had taken it to a book binder's on 5th Avenue. She had waited anxiously. Angie wanted to bite her nails, she was so nervous. Waiting for the verdict, waiting to find if the damage was repairable. The elderly man had clucked and fussed over the battered tome with loving hands. Each shake of his head and sigh made Angie feel worse.  Finally, the man looked at her with sad eyes and gave his answer. The book was badly damaged, but repairable. However, the process would be lengthy and costly. Angie mentally said good bye to her new computer for now and told him to fix it. She still remembered the stunned, but pleased look on the old man's face. He'd been positive her answer would be to forget it, it cost too much. Angie had left, certain she'd made the right decision and left it in the best possible hands. The book binder obviously loved books and would take good care of Rollie's. Yesterday, there had been a message on her answering machine. The repairs were done, today she could pick up the book! Angie knew this was the perfect present she could give Rollie when she brought him home from the hospital.

Angie was smiling when she parked the large FX van, near the book binder's shop. She literally bounced inside. After today's close call, she was so happy she still had Rollie to present the book to, that it wouldn't become a bitter memory for her in what would be an empty life. "Good afternoon, Mister Craigston!"

"Good afternoon, Miss Ramirez." John Craigston smiled at the obviously happy young woman. "Come to pick up your book, I take it."

"Yes sir." Angie bounced up and down, waiting while he went to get Rollie's book from the back. She gasped when he proudly showed his handiwork to her and she saw how well it looked now. The battered book was beautiful. It wasn't perfect, but it was in far better condition than she had ever seen it or ever expected to see it. The battered cover had been carefully removed and replaced. The exterior engraved markings had been meticulously replicated. The interior cleaned and mended. Torn pages had been repaired with thin sheets of onionskin. She carefully turned the pages, examining some of the etched art contained in the old book. "You did a great job, Mister Craigston. I never dreamed it would look this good!"

"It was a pleasure, Miss Ramirez. I really didn't expect you to allow me to do this service. Especially, since it's really not a valuable book. Young people today have so little appreciation for older volumes."

"It's not for me, sir. It's... it's for a friend. He's like my family and this book belonged to his mother. At least I think it did. It'll mean a lot to him. This book has always meant a lot to him. Thank you!"

The old man beamed at her. He seldom saw such generosity. "You're more than welcome. Now, we must protect it and since it's a gift, we need a box. Wait here."

Angie waited patiently, reading some of the text. Some of the misconceptions made her smile. The old book was funny when compared with today's knowledge, but the artwork was beautiful and lovingly rendered. Modern books just weren't the same. No wonder Rollie loved the old book and kept it. She was startled when Mister Craigston placed an oak box next to the book. It was just the right size to hold the large volume. "Oh, Mister Craigston! I couldn't!" The box was plain, but the shine of the warm wood was beautiful. She could imagine Rollie opening it and seeing the restored book. His brown eyes would shine with warmth and delight.

"I insist. I've put a lot of work into this book and you're paying for that work. This book must be protected for it's owner. There's no extra charge. It's just been collecting dust in the back anyway."

Angie knew that was a lie, there wasn't a speck of dust on the golden wood and it'd obviously been lovingly polished many times. "Mister Craigston..."

"Please, I want to do this. It will give me a great deal of pleasure."

Angie hesitated, then nodded agreement. The appeal in his eyes was unmistakable and undeniable.

"Good. It was ordered by someone else over two years ago and they never collected it. Now, it will go to protect this lovely book. In a place where the book will be well loved." Mister Craigston carefully placed the book into it's new home and wrapped it in a rich green gift paper. He handed Angie a gift card and a fountain pen to fill it out and sign it.

Angie thought for a bit, uncertain what to say. Then she decided that simple words said it best. She wrote what her heart said and signed it with a flourish. It was the first time she'd used a fountain pen. The weight felt good, maybe she would get one. Angie watched as Mister Craigston carefully blotted the excess ink, blew on it gently to dry it and placed it in a envelope. She wrote Rollie's name on the envelope and watched as he blotted it and blew on it. A cream ribbon was wrapped around the gift, holding the card in place.

Mister Craigston presented it to her with a small, elegant bow. "There you are, all ready for your friend." He beamed at her, pleased with this customer. It was good to see young people show such care and generosity. So many brought books to him only for their market value, their investment worth, not for love and friendship.

"Thank you, Mister Craigston!" Angie spoke as she wrote a check to pay for the restoration. There was a warm glow in her heart, a glow that said this check was worth every penny. This would make Rollie so happy!

Ten o'clock the next morning, Angie hurried to Rollie's room in the hospital. He would be anxious to leave. A check with the nurse's desk on her way out yesterday had gotten the time of his release. "Good morning, Rollie!"

Rollie sighed in relief when he saw his blonde assistant. Finally, now he could get out of here! "Good morning, Angie."

Rollie smiled at her, but Angie saw he was tired. Well, it was hard to get a good night's sleep when someone is waking you up every couple of hours. Necessary with a concussion, but not conducive to rest. Tonight would be different, tonight Rollie could sleep without any interruptions. She'd be there to field anyone wanting to disturb him. It wasn't the first time, she'd spent the night on one of Rollie's couches and it wouldn't be the last. "Here's your clothes. Has the doctor been by yet?"

"Not yet, but she should be here in a few minutes." Rollie went to the bathroom and changed. He was running a hand over his beard when he came out. She hadn't bothered to bring Rollie's razor with her. He could deal with that when he was home. He stretched carefully and gave Angie a hug. His bruises were more painful now and made him stiff, but that would wear off as he moved around. Nothing serious, nothing to worry about. And no new jobs for four days, just post production stuff, thank goodness. Plenty of time to recover.

Doctor Sinclair came by five minutes later, checked Rollie over, read the notations from last night and cleared him for release. She handed Angie a paper with symptoms to look for in case of complications and went on her way. Angie glanced at the paper and realized there wasn't anything new. Same instructions they always got for dealing with the aftermath of a concussion.

An hour later, Rollie breathed a deep sigh of relief as he walked into the workshop. "I am so glad to be home!"

Angie smiled, "I know you are, Rollie. I'm glad you're home too. Why don't you take a nap?"

"Nah, too restless." Rollie stretched carefully and fidgeted a bit. He looked around for something he could do, something Angie wouldn't fuss at him for doing.

Angie was wondering how to present the book to Rollie when there was a knock on the door. "Come in!" She called out.

Francis and Mira entered with big smiles.

"Good news!" Mira told the special effects experts.

"You caught the driver?" Rollie asked cautiously.

"Yep. Got him." Francis grinned. "He admitted everything. It was almost like he was waiting for us to get there. The idiot was on drugs. He was also glad you're not dead. He thought he was facing vehicular homicide charges."

"That's a relief. I kept worrying about him hitting somebody else." Rollie admitted.

"Yes, well, we can't stay. We just wanted to let you know the news." Mira told  him. "If you need anything..."

"We'll call, Mira." Angie promised. "Thanks for the news. We both appreciate it!"

The detectives said their good byes, then headed off for other cases. Pleased Rollie was okay and the hit and run driver was caught.

"That was almost too easy," Angie complained.

"What? That he was caught so quick?" Rollie smiled. "What did you expect, a high speed car chase across Manhattan?"

"I don't know what I expected. But they're always talking about rewards and it seems to take forever on the news."

"Normally, it probably does, sweetie. Remember, this time they had a partial tag number, a description of the car and a partial description of the driver. That's more than the police usually have to go on."

"Yeah, I guess." Angie put a hand on Rollie's arm and guided him to his striped chair. "Here, sit down." She shifted uneasily in front of him. "I... I've got something for you."

For a moment, Rollie got a sick feeling that Angie was about to hand him her resignation, but he shook that off. They'd settled that, Angie was staying with Tyler FX. "A present? For me?"

"Not exactly, wait here." Angie went up to the clean room and came down with a large wrapped gift and handed it to Rollie.

"Sure looks like a present." Rollie stated. He liked the wrapping paper, it was very tasteful and not at all frilly or too modern. "Kind of heavy," he added, surprised by the weight. Rollie couldn't remember ever receiving something this heavy, except the mortar Rick Forsaythe had given him and that really didn't count. After all, how could you get something heavier than a mortar? He opened the gift card and felt his throat tighten with emotion.

"Open it," Angie urged, anxious to get it over with, hoping Rollie would be pleased, afraid he'd be angry about her invasion of his privacy.

Rollie nodded and pulled the wrapping paper off. He was surprised to find a wooden box. Rollie smiled as he ran his hands appreciatively over the warm, smooth, polished wood. "This is nice. I like it. It feels good." He looked up at Angie.

"Open it!" Angie was really antsy now. Why did Rollie have to drag everything out?

"Open it? You mean there's more?" Rollie thought the box was enough, it was extremely well built and beautiful. What else was there? He found the small latch that kept the lid shut. He unhooked it and opened the box. Rollie stared, stunned, at the contents. He couldn't take his eyes away from it.

As the silence in the loft lengthened, Angie became afraid that she'd done it all wrong. That Rollie was really mad at her now. "Rollie?" She asked in a scared whisper.

Rollie looked up at his best friend and Angie saw the tears filling his eyes. He gulped, forcing the emotion back down his throat. "How?"

"Oh Rollie!" Angie hugged him. "I... I found it that day you went to talk to the Crowns. I wanted... I needed... to get the damage I'd done repaired if I could. If it could be repaired. I'm sorry! I'm sorry I searched your bedroom, but I just..."

"Shhh. Shhh. It's okay, Angie. It's just I never thought anyone could fix it. It's beautiful!" Rollie reassured her, returning her hug. The book was beautiful, he'd never seen it looking so good.

Rollie smiled at Angie and she saw all the warmth, love and joy she'd hope to see in the depths of his brown, tear filled eyes. "Rollie, I love you and I'm sorry about damaging your mother's book."

"Angie, sweetie. I love you too, but you didn't have to do this. You really didn't. I..." Rollie touched the book gently. "I rescued it from the rubbish heap. They'd thrown it away after mum died and I... I wanted to keep it. To..."

"To remember her. I had to do it and I'm glad I did." Angie assured him. "Did you really take it from the trash?"

Rollie nodded. "They didn't think it was worth anything, but it was worth something to me. I didn't let Dad see it for the longest time. I was afraid he'd throw it away again."

Angie smiled gently at her best friend. "I'm glad you saved it. It's an interesting book. I've never seen one like it." She hesitated for a second. "Read to me?"

Rollie nodded and they moved to a couch where they could sit close together and both see the pictures. "The stories of Australian animals are many and varied as the animals themselves. Their differences from those of the rest of the world..." Rollie began with Angie snuggled close to his side, his arm wrapped warmly around her shoulders.
 

The restaurant, Aureole, is a real NYC Midtown restaurant, but I made up the lobster and chocolate dessert. I expect they have both, but I don't know it for a fact.

The book that belonged to Rollie's mother, to the best of my knowledge, does not exist. I made it up. The story about the book really happened to me. Not the honey part, the getting it off the trash pile. Except it belonged to a great aunt, not my mother. It was a book about animals in general and it doesn't contain folklore. One day, I'm going to take it to a book binder and get it repaired.