Angie was fast asleep when Jim finally arrived, sometime after two in the morning. Rory woke her with a gentle shake and a kiss.

"Jim's here."

"Oh, great. Uh, thanks."

He was already up and into his jeans, but no shirt. The long scar was very clear.

"I meant to ask you, if you don't mind. How did that happen?"

Their eyes met for a moment, he shrugged.

"When I was twenty, you know, kinda stupid? Got in a fight outside a bar over in Newburgh. Some guy opened me up with a ratchet, never even saw it happen. I was about five minutes away from bleeding out when they got me into the hospital."

She reached out and touched the firm muscle there, ran her fingers down the length of the scar, keeping her face full of tender concern.

"Ohmigod, that sounds terrible." Her hand reached his belt and flattened against the sixpack there. "It would've been such a waste." She grabbed his crotch, squeezing hard, laughing.

He pulled back, laughing too. "I knew it, you can't trust a woman...."

"Well, some women, maybe, but honey, you can trust me not to waste your talents."

"Mmmm, I guess I do." They kissed, and for a moment she wanted nothing more than to pull him back onto the bed and have him again. But, Jim had arrived. She had to get ready.

"Damn, I don't really want to go right now, " she murmured, as Rory kissed her breasts.

"You could stay."

She could, she knew that. But then again, she knew she couldn't.

"No. Not tonight. Another time."

Their eyes met again. This was really something. She hadn't had anything like this since....she shook her head. Couldn't go there.

He grinned. "I know, it's the way women are."

They both laughed.

She dressed quickly. He watched her. She found herself enjoying the attention. Of course she was used to it, top dollar clients wanted to worship a really good looking female. And she'd dieted and exercised and undergone micro-medical attention for decades to keep herself looking great, but still, this was different. This was not some client slave with a wad of cash for her performance of his dreams.

But, her cautious instincts arose like vines under the sun. This was all happening very quickly. She had to get away from this redneck paradise and have a quiet think about what had gone down here. This had been a complete surprise, and she had a strong feeling that her life might easily take an unpredictable turn here and before that happened she needed to think it through carefully.

Because, as she knew, they, whoever they were, were watching and waiting for her to make that one mistake that told them where she was.

Dressed, she took her bag, found the door, turned back to Rory,

"We'll talk, soon. You sleep now." She blew him a kiss.

Outside, the night was full of the sound of insects. A breeze was blowing, leaves were rustling and the moon was rising above the dark mass of leaves.

Jim was there, standing beside a boxy looking vehicle with huge headlights, turned way down low.

"Jools, how you doin'?"

"Great, Jim. My stuff gonna be okay here?"

"Course it will be. You've met Rory, right? Took care of you I hope."

"Uh, yeah, of course." She shot a sideways glance at Jim. Was he playing with her? But Jim just opened the driver's side door of the vehicle and climbed in.

"Come on, girl, I'm runnin' late. Sorry to leave you dahn 'ere so long. Couldn't be helped."

"That's okay. I had a great time. Had dinner, helped make it, too."

"Yeah?"

"They talked about you." She put a hand on Jim's forearm. "In the nicest way. You brought them some whisky or something?"

Jim chuckled. "Oh, blimey, I'll nevvuh live it dahn. You'd fink they'd nevvuh seen the bloody stuff before."

"Yes, so I heard."

"So you met Mama T?"

"Everyone. They were nice. Well, that doesn't do it justice. They're authentic people."

"Aufentic?"

"Right. They just seem more real than city people, I guess."

"Yeah? Well, maybe, I dunno."

The vehicle coughed into life, engine grumbling and Jim reversed it, turned and drove out of the compound and down the track into the trees, the huge headlights showing the way.

"'Ow did it go, earlier, like?"

"The truck worked out perfectly."

"Good. My boy Danny swore it were a good un'."

They slid through the narrow places, with vegetation pressing against the windows.

"They're really hidden away in there," she murmured.

"You bet. Done a great job. That boy, Rory, really knows wot e's doin' if you ask me."

"I guess."

Except that she wasn't exactly sure what he was doing.

Organic farming? Except there wasn't anything remotely farm like about the place.

"You know, Jim, I don't think I quite understood what it was all about in there. You know, the girls with guns and stuff."

Jim looked at her. "You not pullin' my leg are you?"

"No." She stared back at him.

Jim turned the truck out onto the road. There was a field opposite filled with dark, spiky plants.

"They grow drugs, Jools. But they do it clever, like. Gene-mods, right?"

Drugs? She felt her draw drop. Of course, and there was Mr. Chaga, who sold the drugs.

"What kind of drugs?"

Jim smiled. "Only the organic kind." He chuckled. "Look, it's like this, they switched the genes out of marijuana, right? Put 'em in other plants, fings wot nobody would ever fink were drugs, right?"

She stared at the field. Fortress in the woods. Rory's eyes and ears.

Ohmigod, these people were like, drug lords. Except they lived in a way that she'd never imagined drug lords to live. Like old timey farm people.

What had Rory said, oh yes, produce, they made organic produce. Well, shame on her for being slow on the uptake, or just blinded by handsome, hunky Rory.

"Great people, Jools. They don't make anything that does real harm, none of this modern shit, you know?"

She was still floundering. How could she have been so dense? It wasn't like her to miss signals like that.

"I guess. I mean, I've smoked weed. It was, like, what everyone did for a while there. I mean, everyone in the state of California smokes it, or takes the oil or inhales vapor, or whatever. At least that's what it seemed like sometimes. It didn't even really seem illegal"

Jim snorted with amusement. "Effin' daft business that, if you ask me. Makin' it illegal, like. But, gotta say, it makes a good living for some."

Indeed. She recalled the good times around that dining table, the fine bottles of wine, the cheerful clan cameraderie.

"I guess I've never met anyone, uh, socially, who was in that business before. That's all."

"Heh, well, you 'ave nah."

Out the window they passed another field full of unidentifiable plants, looking dark and mysterious under the moonlight.

She had, and she knew she would meet him again.