The waitress cleared the table, asked if we wanted anything else. After she left, Sneaker said, "Do you think they have any Black and Blue wine in back?"
     "I doubt they have that kind of liquor license," I said.
     Sneaker slumped back, hands in pockets, legs stretched onto my seat. The interview was about over for her, whether I was finished or not. I wanted to ask at least one more question while I had the chance.
     Destiny is the Hell Cop all others look up to. You know him better than any. What do you think is his destiny? Will he really retire, or die in Hell. Is he Hell Crazy?"
     "He's not Hell Crazy. He doesn't think he's a frickin' demon. He retired as a Hell Cop, but apparently not from messing around in Hell. And he's too damn stubborn and too damn smart to die in Hell."
     She sat up then. Took a last sip of water, put on her cap and sunglasses. "Orbuck told me that Getter was
important to Hell, but Destiny was more important than that. I think the Cosmos or the Powers That Be or whoever runs the Big Show, has something in mind for the both of them. And seeing as they don't really get a long, I bet it's going to be interesting."
     In one effortless motion she slid out of the booth. She stood over me, stuck her hand out. "I gotta go. Thanks for lunch."
     I took her hand, tried not to wince. "Thank you. I appreciate your taking the time to speak with me. Maybe we could talk again sometime?"
     She took her hand back, stuck both hands in her pockets. Even through the sunglasses I felt the weight of her scrutiny.
     "You're going to present this as fiction, right? Not as if it's real. Right?"
     "Pretty much. Nobody would believe it anyway."
     "I don't do fiction. Keep in touch."
     She walked out of the room grace, courage, beauty, determination personified.
     All eyes followed her.
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