"Even when it does is fine with me, Cynthia. I'm a devout coward, in case you haven't noticed."

"Nonsense! Look how much fun we've had!"

"Is that before, during, or after the torture sessions?"

"Details, details!

"My goodness, where would we be without a sense of adventure!"

"You can have my share, kiddo."

"Getting too old for this stuff, are we?"

"I think I was born too old for this stuff."

"Unfortunately, my dear, it's a little too late for such afterthoughts."

"What afterthought? I always thought that!"

"Nevertheless, you are as prime a target for Mr. Buck's nefarious attentions as I.

"Sad but true, I'm afraid."

"Why is it, Cynthia, that I keep getting the impression that you are not all that unhappy that this crap with Buck is heating up again?"

Cynthia grins.

"The man you love to hate, I guess.

"I simply love fucking him up."

"Yeah, right.

"The only problem with the way things have gone so far is that it's always our necks and skins on the line, while Buck's defeats are kind of like a rich man's losing at cards.

"Sure, his feathers are a little ruffled but, basically, he's none the worse for wear, while we come within millimeters or milliseconds of getting our asses blown away.

"I swear, Cynthia, sometimes I think Buck hasn't lost at all, that he's just playing some kind of deadly game of cat and mouse with us."

"Which, on balance, is better than not getting to play at all, Isn't it?"

Nancy just looks at her.

And the suspicion mounts that she is a mere mortal, trapped between two struggling super-maniacs.

When whales fight, the shrimp get killed, as the old Chinese saying goes.

And right now, she is feeling very shrimpy indeed.

"Tell you what, Nance," Cynthia says, "suppose you move in with me again, for a while?"