"OW! What did I do? Insult your mother?" Duck batted her aside.

"No," Dawn said with a giggle of hysteric relief.

"Maybe I should have," he grumbled. He looked down at his buck naked body, then looked up at the chaos, and grimaced. He had let himself go a bit, sure, but he didn't expect people to run at the sight of him. Maybe it was time to try manscaping. Then his mind snapped back to the present. Casters. Demons. Cults. Oh my.

He followed Dawn's flicker of a glance, and the sight propelled him to his feet. He ran, pulling Dawn along behind him, knocking aside women in heels as he fled.

There! By the entrance! Duck spied his pants. He didn't have time to put then on, but he could take them with him at least. As they ran past the stragglers, he bent down to scoop them up.

Outside, they ran into a wall of people funnelled by barricades. Patrol had set up a perimeter.

"Demon worshipers!" Duck screamed at the nearest Patrolman whose look of suspicion turned into amused contempt when he recognised the shadechaser.

"Caught with your pants down?" the officer quip.

"Oh, haha. If you're such a funny guy, why don't you go inside and make the demon laugh," Duck formed a fist with his free hand.

Dawn pulled Duck aside before he could throw the first punch. "Save it for the demon," she said. "It's going to come after you."

Duck took in her words with a strange calmness. The mixture of anger and exhaustion was quickly depleting him of fear. Dawn was right – he could still feel the demon's hunger.

"Not going to bloody happen, because I'm going to get it first," he said, turning back to the entrance. "You got verve left, girl?"

"Does the pope shit in the woods?"

Duck nodded. He held out his hand. "Hand it over, princess."

Usually, the act of even asking was a punch-worthy offence, especially when it came from a letchy, naked, older man. Even the nearby Patrolmen looked uncomfortable. But after what they'd just been though, Dawn didn't hesitate. They grasped each other's forearms and she pushed through as much of her energy as she could. The taste of gold and blue had Duck grinning like a teenager after his first kiss.

The giddiness quickly faded as Duck turned his attention back to the matter at hand. He checked the pockets of his pants and found them weighed down by verve grenades. As he ran back to the door, he balled his pants up into a makeshift football. The demon had finished with Madame. It trained its bright eyes across the empty foyer at Duck.

He racked his brain for something witty to say, and failed.

"Go back to hell!" he shouted instead, because one had to shout something when throwing a bunch of explosives at a demon. When the package got close, the demon snatched it from the air. Perfect. Duck brushed the grenades within borrowed verve.

He ran quickly, but not quickly enough to outrun the force of the explosions. For the second time that night, he was sent flying, along with the other unlucky lingerers at the door. Patrol helped its own. Duck was left to get back to his feet himself. His body was one big bruise, imbedded with flakes of debris. But he was alive.

Patrol was busy herding the crowd into awaiting vans, or venturing into the hotel. This left Duck to meander around until he found Dawn by one of the vans. She was using a Patrolman's phone. She tossed him a coat. It was expensive, likely sometime confiscated from the crowd. Duck slipped into it, revelling in the warmth and security of once again being clothed. With the coat on, he almost felt human again.

"Game wants to see us." She hung up the phone.

"Wants to see us, or wants to kill us?"

Dawn smiled. "Got any verve grenades left?" She looked around. "Let' commandeer that car." Her eyes were set on a low set, modified sports car driven by a Patrolman.

"So I should just flash them some tit then?" Duck mimed a seductive reveal.

"Let's hope it doesn't get to that point," Dawn said with a straight face. "Besides, they don't have a choice. Threat's gone, and the cultists are detained, which mean that this is Mindsweep's jurisdiction now." In fact, there were already Mindsweep vehicles on scene, but it seemed that Dawn was on a mean streak.

On the ride back, Duck took an unbashful nap, his mouth agape. Minutes later, the sleek vehicle was parked illegally outside the best frozen yoghurt shop in town. The two shadechasers perused the selection inside.

"Let's get one for Game," Dawn suggested. "I don't know what he likes."

"What?" Duck frowned. "It's raspberry and coconut!"

Game did indeed like the flavour, or perhaps he liked frozen yoghurt in general for his mood improved significantly when the shadechasers arrived with tubs of it in tow.

"You disobeyed a direct order," he said. The effect of his glare was somewhat dampened by spoonfuls of bright pink yoghurt.

Dawn was quite. She had no defence against Game's reprimand. Every word of it was true.

But Duck didn't take it lying down. "Welcome to the real world, kid," he said with a shrug, followed by a grimace at the pain the movement created. "You issue a dumb order like 'don't rescue your friends', and you're going to get something thrown in your face."

Game turned to Duck. "That's rich. And surprising. Coming from you. You're not the hero type."

Duck went red. "I... It was..." he scowled. "Owed her a favour," he muttered.

Game massaged his neck and sighed. "You're dismissed. Go to the infirmary. It hurts to look at you."

"What about Dawny?" Duck crossed his arms, then immediate uncrossed them when the movement caused a tear in his upper arm to scream in pain.

"What does it matter to you?" Game asked, which again had Duck fumbling for words.

A smile darkened on the Game Master's face. "Well, if you want to stay, I won't stop you. But if you don't leave now, you'll be a part of whatever comes next."

"Come what may." Duck puffed out his chest and glanced at Dawn who rolled her eyes.

"You get no rewards for discovering that nest of vipers," Game began. "Patrol now believe that Casters may be more prolific than previously estimated. They are organized, secretive, and powerful. In contrast, our organizations are still in their infancy and we are woefully underprepared to dance with them without major Patrol casualties."

"So send the cannon fodder," Duck muttered.

Game spoke over him. "I got a call from Annis before you arrived." Calvin Annis was the head of Patrol, Game's counterpart. "He congratulated me on my two experienced operatives who led Patrol to the largest operation yet against the Casters."

"Oh no," Duck and Dawn said in unison.

"Oh yes." Game's eyes dance with wicked, vindictive delight. "Congratulations, my soldiers. You've just volunteered for Mindsweep's first ever Caster Taskforce."

The news was too much for an injured and exhausted Duck. He lowered himself to the floor and lay down.

"Game, we barely survived," Dawn said. "This is a death sentence."

"With double the remuneration and command privileges," Game countered.

"Triple the salary!" Duck said from the floor.

"Done."

"...Quadruple the salary!"

"Done."

"And I get my guns back," Dawn added, warming to the idea. "I'm useless without them."

"Of course."

"And I get to choose a better call sign for myself!"

"Declined."

Duck shrugged and closed his eyes. "Worth a try."

The office to the infirmary, to Dawn's blue hatchback, to his apartment, to his bed, was all a blur for Duck. All he knew as he lay in bed was that, against all odds, he had survived yet another day. To what purpose? He did not know. Tomorrow he might call his mother to hear her voice. He might ignore his orders and sleep in. He could go and eat sushi and burgers. He could do a great number of things. That was the great thing about the future – it held infinite possibilities, some of them not half bad. As Duck drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep, a pair of orange eyes watched him from the shadows.

Author's Note

Finished! Finally! I thought I'd never get there! This story was one of the first I posted here, but then I got sidetracked by the contests, some developing into multi-chapter stories. Game in Play, the first story I posted here, is still not complete. But I live in hope. I'm getting a lot better at completing things.

Thanks to everyone who came along for the ride. Sorry it was in fits and starts. Reviews appreciated. Nitpicking welcome.

As always, hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing!