A light rain began to fall, and Hank convinced Rio to hurry back to Milton's car. As they sat together in front, with Bumbles pacing the back seat, it rained more heavily.

"What are you waiting for?" Rio asked, as Hank didn't start the engine.

"I don't know. It's kind of nice. I like the rain sometimes."

She pursed her lips. "Hmm. Me too. But know what I don't like? Cars."

He ignore her gripe. "I'm finding out things about you I didn't expect."

"Yeah. I'm pretty deep."

"You are. When I see you one way, you show me another."

"Thanks." After the silence that followed, Rio asked politely, "Dōzo? Can we go?"

Hank stuttered. "I wanna, ah… you know. Talk."

"You've talked to me all day."

"I know. Um… but not like that. Not like following you around looking for Milton." He stared straight at her, but her gaze was elsewhere. "I think it's important."

"You can come inside. We'll talk at my place."

Hank contemplated the offer. "Leanne's a bit much," he said. "You know?"

Rio paralyzed him with a death-ray glare he hadn't seen since the day they met. "What's wrong with Leanne?" she asked.

"Nothing! I mean… come on. She really likes to talk."

"She's been gone for days. She misses me."

"I know!"

"And I miss her. I want her to talk."

Hank gathered up some courage, to match Rio's rage. "Look, Rio-san. I know. I like her too. I do. But… I want to talk to you." He tried pleading next. "Can't we go somewhere and talk?"

"We can talk right here. Hurry up."

With her laser-guided missile eyes locked onto Hank's face, Rio reached in the back and grabbed Bumbles by the collar, making him hold still. As she arched her back, her prominent bosom swelled through the opening of her leather jacket. The upper half of her white blouse was made transparent by the rain, and Hank had to choose between looking at the murder in her eyes or the beauty of her body.

"Okay," he said. "Tell me about the bad guys."

"They want to kill us all. Especially me."

"Ah… and why is that?"

Rio let go of Bumbles, as the dog behaved. "How the hell should I know?"

She looked out her side window at the shops, which were closed for the night. Hank took the opportunity to admire her—so well-built, so strong. So small and sad and scared.

And so soaking wet. "Please tell me how you see them."

"Here is how it works, okay? I'm going to tell something the great Hank-sama ought to know."

Despite her sour puss, Rio expressed pleasure over having someone show an interest in who she was. "I pluck each little piece," she said, forcing down a smile. "Each Reality, and lay them out, like on cloth. I can line them up by color or strength or size, and say, 'Oh well, here's a bunch real nice, and they're all different colors. They're by people working together to make the world a better place. And look, here's a big Reality, but it's only got one color, so this guy's not into making little Realities, just this great big one. Or this person, she's got lots of them, all are different sizes, and they poke out all over! She is very powerful! And this guy's Realities, they grow, and this guy, well, they're dying.'"

"You can see all that?" Hank asked, intrigued.

"Yeah, yeah! Can you see it, too?"

"I think I kind of get it. It's very interesting."

Rio's heart skipped with joy. "Do you really get it? Do you?"

He enjoyed her enthusiam, and agreed for her sake. "You see the world as pieces twisted together, making big things out of little ones."

"Yeah, yeah! And I can pick them out, you see, and say, 'Oh! Here's Realities, all nice' or 'These are weak and don't work right' or 'This guy has no power.' Sometimes I help them grow, or find bad ones and say, 'These have got to go!' And rip them up and throw them in the garbage."

She laughed, and he joined in. "Ha ha!" she said. "Fuck you, rotten bastards! It's really nice and all, helping good guys win, but it's lots more fun wrecking bad Realities, to piss off pricks who make them."

Hank forced himself to keep from laughing further, as Rio suddenly went silent. He liked it, a little, when she acted psychotic, but he was pretty sure most people did not. She stared out the windshield, seemingly in thought, until he shook her shoulder to get her to look at him.

She straightened her round red glasses. "Okay, tell me this," he said. "You can tell what a person does, but you can't tell who they are?"

Rio's smile showed how big her mouth was. "Hai. So?"

"So you could be, like, standing by a bad guy and not know he's right there?"

Rio's smile disappeared. She grumbled before speaking. "Why would you say that? Do you hate me that much?"

"No, no! I'm really very sorry! I'm just… I want… How do you do it?" Rio stared at her lap glumly as Hank apologized again. "I'm very very sorry. Don't get mad at me."

She dug in her pockets until she found her new pack of bidis and opened it, throwing the wrappings on the floor.

"Turn on the car," she groused. "I'm freezing."

Hank did as he was told. Rio rolled down her window, just enough to let in rain. She stuck her face in the crack, working to light her cigarette. A cloud of oily smoke drifted into the night before she cranked up the car heater.

She blew a tiny puff at Hank. "Make your point," she said.

"Uh, gosh," Hank hedged, not wanting things to get worse. "I mean, how can you tell… you know… which Realities are mine?"

"You're sitting right there."

Hank rolled his eyes the tiniest bit. "But you can't tell if a person is making bad Realites. Not by looking at them. Right?"

As Hank blathered on, Rio puffed her bidi. She continued doing so long after he shut up, sticking her face in the crack of the window to blow out her smoke. He thought about the scent of cloves and anise she had on her breath the first time he held her, in her quarters at Milton's mansion. How she shivered then from fear, and not from cold and rain. How she dared Death to snatch her from his arms by arcing towards stone floor.

How she made his hormones race. "Right?" he asked again, craning his neck towards her to get her to speak.

Rio spoke around her bidi. "Hank?"

He answered after a timid pause. "Yes?"

"You're the stupidest Reality Maker ever."

He huffed. "Look, I just asked a question. I mean, gosh darn it, Rio…"

She pulled the bidi from her mouth. "Don't you mean goddamn it?"

"Yes I do. God and fucking damn it." He gave her a killer glare that rivaled her best. "I'm trying to get to know you. You're not an easy person. All I did was ask you something you want to talk about in the first place."

After a long silence, Hank spoke again. "I didn't do it to be mean. I did it because you're nice."

Rio rolled her eyes big time.

"You are. Your shit attitude doesn't fool me at all."

She released a sigh, flicking the butt of her bidi out her open window. "I fuck with people a lot," she said, staring at the rain falling on her knee. "It's what I'm made to do."

His mood grew gloomy as the night. "I don't deserve to be fucked with. I'm the nicest person you've ever met. You said so yourself."

"I said it was ridiculous how nice you are."

"Oh yeah? Well, if you didn't say it, I know for a fact you thought it."

Rio gave in. "Maybe I did."

"Maybe I'm not stupid, too."

"No Hank-sama. No, you're not. I'm sorry I called you stupid."

After a minute of silence, Hank spoke quietly. "Look. Milton's not here. But Leanne is and she misses you. Let me take you to her, and then I'm going home."

Rio stuck her hand in her pocket, feeling the smoothness of her new pack of bidis. She had just smoked one, and knew she shouldn't have another. Leanne was sure to scold her about the way she reeked already. She spoke to Milton's dog, sadness returning to her voice.

"Let's go home, Bumbles. Where is Milton? Hmm? Why can't we find Milton? Where is he, Boy? Where's Milton?"

Bumbles whimpered and whined. As the dog paced the back seat, Hank begged his heart to Rio.

"Can you please tell me how you know whose Realities are good?"

Rio spoke with more cheer than Hank thought he'd get. "Sure. Once an RMer is close, I see stuff coming out."

He sputtered. "What? That's gross!"

"Hai. But I don't know how to say it. Bad guys stink."

"Huh?"

"They stink. I hate the smell they leave in me. Have you ever had a dream, you see, or memory where you smell a thing that isn't there?"

"I dunno. Maybe. That sounds… kinda…"

"Weird?" Rio asked, finishing the sentence.

"Yeah. That sounds kinda weird."

"Hank-sama. Chotto. Don't be wussy when you speak."

"Don't be a bitch when I say things."

"It's not my fault. You're such a wuss."

"You'd better nice to me, or I'm going to hit you."

"Ooh! You will? Real hard? Maybe I will like it!"

Hank attacked, poking Rio in her ribs. "Maybe I will tickle!"

She snorted on her laughter while slapping at his hands. But she was no match for his long arms in the confines of a car and he soon took control, with Bumbles helping out by barking and jumping around.

"Stop!" Rio yipped, at both Hank and the dog.

"Be nice!" Hank demanded, still tickling and poking.

"I'll be nice!"

"Be real nice!"

Rio now guffawed, almost without breathing. She swung at the air blindly, her glasses down her nose, her hair in her eyes.

"I will be real nice!"

Hank held Rio down, protecting her from Bumbles, who wanted to leap into the front seat. "All right," he said to the dog. "Rio says she gives." He stroked her hair as she lay in his lap. "She's going to be nice."

A voice came from his crotch. "Oh, you think so, huh?"

He menaced her with a finger until she snorted on a laugh. "Yes. Because Rio wants Hank to be nice."

She took in his green scent before shoving him away. "And so," he queried further, as she sat up and composed herself. "Do I stink?"

Rio swooned as if she had the vapors. "Oh God. I'd eat you with a spoon, you smell so good."

"I beg your pardon?"

She spoke more properly. "You smell very nice."

"Hmm. And bad guys don't? Right?"

Rio moved in close, to fill her head with more of Hank. "Bad guys stink. Good guys smell nice. And you smell the best."