A Black Lincoln Towncar emblazoned with the logo of Metro Cars pulls up in front of a building that is just outside of Delray in Detroit, Michigan. The driver doesn't look like he enjoys being in this part of town. The only reason he was there was because of his passenger, Edie Raymond-Ellis.

'Lady, are you sure that this is the right place?' the driver asks as he looks down at the map that he brought with him.

Edie thumbed the eyeglasses up her nose, frowning slightly at the rotund driver. 'You have no idea how many times I have asked that question myself, sir.' Her voice is quiet - like her sister's - but it's not rough like the boisterous Charlie Ramone. She smoothes her mousy-brown hair down and considers asking the driver if she looks OK. She resists, though.

'Well, I guess it's time to let you out.' Edie opens the door and gets out of the car. She then heads up to the door of the warehouse and knocks. There is no answer. She then pulls on the door. It was locked. She notices a buzzer. She presses it. Once again, no answer.

She bangs on the door full-on. 'Jason! Jason, open the door!'

Still, there was no answer. The driver yelled out through his open passenger window, 'Lady, I think this is just another abandoned warehouse.'

'It's...it's not, though.' She glances down the street. 'This was Jay's place, right?' Doubt crept into her features.

The doubt though was quickly dashed as she heard the familiar rumbling of a Harley Davidson coming from behind where she is standing. Edie turns and looks, not noticing that the large metal door that was next to the door she was knocking on started to open.

She squints her eyes against the blinding light on the front of the bike, her form slight against the massive warehouse. The motorcycle roars past her and into the warehouse.

“Whoa.” the driver says as he looks on with an astonished look on his face.

“Well, you going to come in, or what?” a familiar, yet slightly muffled voice calls out from the inside of the building.

She leans into the window of the car. 'Thanks so much for waiting,' she says. The look on the driver's face leaves little doubt as to what he thinks of nice girls meeting guys in warehouses. ('Porn!';-))

Her steps are quickened, the ease of which is made from no heels, as she heads into the warehouse.

The large metal door starts to close behind her as the man on the bike takes his helmet off and places it on a metal bench that’s behind a black and red Jeep Wrangler. He takes off his gloves and tosses them on the bench as well.

“So, what brings you to the Slums of Detroit?” Draven asks without turning to face Edie as he opens the door at the back of this garage and enters the Warehouse. Edie follows behind and notices that there are drops of blood forming wherever Draven steps.

'Jesus Christ! What happened to you?' She's at his side before she realizes it, hand to his shoulder.

Draven looks down and notices that his shin is bleeding. 'Tire must have kicked up a rock. Sometimes that happens when you wear shorts and ride.'

Edie frowns (it's an expression she makes a lot around her sister), shoving the larger man in the arm. 'Well, then...don't...don't do that.'

'Too nice of a day to wear pants.' Draven says as he walks towards the metal staircase that leads to the apartment. 'Besides, I didn't feel a thing. That's the great thing about having all that power between your legs and you can control it. Nothing seems to hurt afterwards.'

Her grin is as sudden as it is impish. 'Is that a metaphor for something, Jason Ryan?'

'Yeah, a metaphor for 500cc of Milwaukee steel between my legs.' Draven retorts as he opens the door to the apartment and heads straight to the kitchen, passing a jewel case with a note on it from Edie as he heads to the refrigerator.

She's trailing in his wake - she's always trailing in someone's wake, even if that 'someone' is usually her sister. 'You...you haven't looked at the disc.'

'Between visits from Constance Black (See GCW RP 'Dust to Dust' for more details), the NME, and meeting up with some endorsement people, I haven't even had time to watch my soaps.' Don't laugh, Jason Ryan watches General Hospital.

'You...' Her fingers linger on the jewel case. 'You may want to. It's...Charlie's going through some things.'

'When I get around to it. Though, I don't know why you want me to watch it. The note you wrote me asked me not to.'

Her voice quiets head down. Is that a sniffle? 'I don't want anyone to. But...you've been good to her, Jason.' She leaves the 'and to me' part out. 'And you have a right to be part of the...the family.'

Draven then picks up the disk, pulls it out of the jewel case and takes a look at it. 'Well then, there's only one right thing for me to do then.' Without hesitation, Draven bends the fragile plastic of the disk until it snaps. 'I guess I can't watch it now.'

When she looks up, her smile is sad. Her eyes are shining. 'You...people don't give you credit for being as nice as you are. You'd better be careful or I will tell everyone.'

'I figure if you wanted me to know what was on that disk, you would have told me.' Draven states as he drops the remnants of the disk into the trash compactor.

'I...apparently, Krissy has a bad history, let's put it that way. I think it's something she's trying to work through, but it's not something that Charlotte is ready to deal with.'

Draven walks up and puts his finger up to Edie's lips and then walks back to the fridge and pulls out a bottle of cheap vodka. He takes the top of the bottle off and sets in down on the now empty jewel case.

Edie shakes her head softly. 'I don't...I don't drink. My sister is...unruly...enough that I have learned to be the designated driver.'

'Funny, you were drinking up a little bit down in Mexico. But that isn't what this is for.' Draven then puts his foot up on the table and pours some of the vodka onto his bloody shin. He winces a little from the sting.

'That was different. That was... Mexico.'

'And Chicago if memory serves correctly.'

'OK, fine, Mr. Remembers-Everything. I'm a little wussy girl and I don't like vodka.' She folds her arms, as 'playful' as you'll probably ever see Edie Raymond-Ellis. 'Fine, just take away all my hardcore cred.'
'You seem for forget that weekend in Miami, when you were trying to get me.....well......what do you think Grey Goose is?'

'Jesus Christ, do you remember everything?'

'Uh....where are we?'

'In a warehouse?'

'Never mind, Edie, the joke went over your head.'

She hmpfs and folds her arms. 'I...I'm not really sure why I'm here, to answer your earlier question.'

'OK, that's good enough for me, if it's good enough for you.' Draven says as he walks into the living room. 'Is there a reason why you tried to look like you belong walking along Michigan Avenue?'

'I had a meeting today about Charlie's show with representatives of...' She affects a British accent. 'The Kent Fusiliers.'

'The Kent Fusiliers? For some reason, I think that name should mean something to me, but it just es......wait, are they the guys who, you know.'

She sighs out, waving her hands through the air; it's a frustrated motion. 'They apparently bought SCCW from STD while no one was looking. I was stonewalled pretty heavily.'

“No more Smitty Transmitted Disease. Shit, now who can I fuck with. Well, there's always Jon Kitna.'

'His name's Barry.' The response is immediate; she's not a football fan.

'Since when to the Lions have a twerp of an interviewer as their starting quarterback. I was using the Chargers all last night to sack his ass. Maybe I should hook up to XBox Live and get a roster update or something.'

Tiny hands go to her hips in fist-shape. 'Jason, quit talking about stuff you know I don't know anything about.'

'So this means I shouldn't tell you about how, when a man and a woman love each other very much - '

'JAY!'

Draven just looks at Edie with a sly grin on his face. 'Why so serious? Edie, don’t take this the wrong way, but I think you might be just a wee-bit jet lagged.'

'It's just been...been pretty stressful with Kristina and Charlotte's thing and I heard that Sabrina was attacked and...it's very hard being the normal one.'

'I wouldn't say normal.” Draven says as he takes a drink of the clear liquid. “By the way, who's Sabrina?'

'Kristina...Krissy's ex-girlfriend.'

'Edie, I mean this in the kindest way, but I think you need to sit down. Before you worry about anything else. I'm afraid the stress is getting to you.' Draven says as he starts to walk into the living room.

She blows a really big sigh. 'Fine. Maybe you can show me this video game system you...' She glances at the entertainment center. 'You apparently don't have here.'

'Yeah, you definitely need to sit. Let’s throw on a movie. Maybe make some popcorn. Then you can tell me about who the hell the Kent Fusiliers have put me against.'

'If you have fresh cracked pepper for the popcorn, I just may have your babies.'

Draven replies with a subtle hint of sarcasm, 'Uh, Edie, it's a little too soon for me to have another baby. You forget, my daughter is less than two years old.'

'Now maybe you should sit down, Mister I-Can't-Tell-When-Edie-Is-Joking.' She drops heavily onto the couch.

'You pick a movie, I'll make the popcorn.' Draven says as he walks back into the kitchen.

'That means I have to get up!' she whines. 'And I don't know anything more about Equinox than you do.'

'If you want fresh pepper on your popcorn...' as Draven talks, the soft whir of a hot air popper can be heard, 'you'll pick a good movie. Otherwise, you're getting it my way. Extra butter.'

With a short sigh, she rocks up out of the couch, skimming the DVD library. 'How about...uhhh...man. You've got a lot of stuff.' Lower lip gathered in her teeth, she pushes the hair from her face. 'I'm thinking, like, Memento?'

'Don't got it. I let your sister borrow it.'

'Oh, man. I learned in the fifth grade to never, ever, ever let Charlotte borrow anything. Die Hard it is, then.'

'Works for me. By the way, the popcorn is almost done.'

THURSDAY NIGHT

Sunset.

The wheels of her suitcase scraped across the concrete sidewalk outside the warehouse home of Jay Draven. She looks back over her shoulder towards the oranges and purples of the setting sun, squinting against the headlights of an oncoming car. Was that...? The car drove past, not even slowing, and the honey-haired blonde rifles fingers through her curls as she approached the door. The driver had wanted to stay, wanted to wait, wanted to make sure that she got in all right. She'd paid him extra, given him her sunniest smile (which was quite a smile indeed), and pretended not to notice that he was still parked around the corner.

The girl wasn't particularly tall, but she was striking, that blond hair held back by dark sunglasses, making due as a makeshift hairband. Her smile was sunny and bright, but there is a...heaviness...around her as she raises her left hand to knock at the door, a quietness to her posture that put somewhat of a different spin on that genial smile.

She knocks softly on the door, keeping her silhouette flat against the warehouse, not hiding, but not standing out.

Another set of headlights comes down the road, passing by the warehouse. Another set of headlights comes by as well, but instead of passing by, are joined by a set of red and blue pulsating lights.

The blonde swallows hard, trying to recall her lessons. Ignore the policeman, don't look like you're causing problems, remember - you're a pretty girl and pretty girls never do anything wrong.'

She knocks again, louder, but without swinging her arm much further.

'Come on, be home, dammit...' she murmurs under her breath.

As the cops pull up, another set of headlights hit the large metal door of the warehouse. Only this time, the door starts to open. The blonde doesn't realize it as she's seemingly scared shitless because of the cops. Pulling in past her is a red and black Wrangler as a cop gets out of his car.

'Is there anything I can do for you, officer?' Draven asks as he gets out of his Jeep, carrying a bag from National Coney Island.

'Well, we were...'

'This young lady is a friend of mine, I invited her over. Isn't that right, Edie?'

Her smile is as instant as it is bright - there's not any reluctance before she's slipping right into the role. She steps to Draven's side, pulling the bag open and peeking in.

'Only if you've got a dog in there for me. Otherwise, I am so out of here, dude.'

Ignore the policeman, don't look like you're causing problems, and remember you're a pretty girl and pretty girls don't do anything wrong.

She smiles again for the officer - though it would probably be more proper to say she never stopped. 'Am I right or am I right? You know I’m right. After all, what kind of guy goes out for franks and leaves his buddy out of the order?'

'You like extra onions, right?' Draven looks right at the officers. 'As you can see, officer, this young lady is a guest of mine. You don't believe that I live here, run the name Jason Ryan in the computer, and you will come up with this address.'

'You know I do, silly!' She smacks him in the arm playfully.

The policeman nods, gravel crunching under his boot, as he climbs into his car. The blonde steals a French fry from the bag, not losing her chummy disposition (which she, thankfully, didn't have to fake) until the cop pulls out of the lot.

'Oh, those are good fries,' she says softly, stepping around the larger man towards the door again. 'You'd better really have bought enough that I can have some.'

'Well, there goes the plan of not cooking tonight.' He doesn't move forward, though. He's going to make her say it - she can see it in his eyes.

'I don't know what you've heard, but - ' Kirsten Pendleton (AKA Krissy Jamison) says softly.

'I don't care. All that matters is that you fucked up.” Draven looks down at the luggage, “I take it you need a place to stay.' Draven walks back into the garage and pulls a beat up gym bag out of the front seat. 'Come on, I don't want my Coney's to get cold. You know how to cook, right?'

'I'm not a complete disaster in the kitchen, no.' She leaned back against the wall. 'I just need somewhere to...to lay low for a few days. Maybe until you leave for Cleveland for the show.'

'You may want to stay longer than that. I leave tomorrow.'

'Oh. Well.' She looks past him, towards where the policeman had driven off. 'That may not be enough time, no. Perhaps you'll give me a key?'

'We'll talk about it. But first, come on in. There's a storm brewing. Should be nasty.'

Kirsten-Krissy-nods silently, rolling her shoulder along the wall to face the door.

Unfortunately, Jay Draven has no idea how right he is.