The lack of any moon meant it was a really dark night, much too dark to be comfortable about. At least, for some people, it would be. For others, it was like the warmest, most embraceable blanket, even though in winter the temperature was about 20 degrees. One of those people happened to be driving a 2004 Greyhound Himalayan into a poorly lit gas station with only four pumps.

The car stopped quietly. The man slowly got out, showing he was as good-looking as his vehicle. He stretched. He breathed in a good lungful of cold air and then coughed it out, smiling at the refreshing quality of it. He put his left hand into his right pocket and took out a quarter. He gripped it fondly. Then, he began the business of filling up his car while another car pulled into the pump across him. He raised his eyebrows. Two cars at a gas station this late. Surprisingly busy. Then again, what did he know; he didn't know this place very well.

As he finished thinking and put the nozzle into his slim ride, he inconspicuously noticed the other car's driver door open and a man get out. He also heard his quiet voice: "Don't worry, baby. I know you're upset, but it'll just be really fast and then we can go, okay?"

Another voice responded. The eavesdropper's eyebrows raised a little further; it was clearly a woman talking now. "I'm not upset baby, I just wish we thought this through. Come on, the longer you stand there, the colder both of us are gonna get."

So, he thought.

A couple.

Seth Fraser did not want to be doing this right now. He wanted to be at the hotel he and his new wife, Aveva Fraser, were staying at for the second night of their honeymoon. He wanted to be in a nice warm bed. But they hadn't gotten gas last night, which they should've. And so they were getting it now, and the bed was about ninety minutes away.

It was okay, though. Not a big deal. He would just fill 'er up and then they'd get going again like nothing happened. Just a small hitch, nothing to get super worked up over. He flipped open the small hatch on the side of his car and fit the nozzle to pump the unleaded in when a small roar met his ears. It was distant at first, but grew louder and demanded his attention more and more until he gave it. He lifted his head and looked to see bright headlights right in his face.

"Tsk." He covered his eyes. Wasn't there already another car here? He looked over, and sure enough, there was. Then this was a third car. Actually, no, it was a motorcycle. The headlights turned off, and he could see a woman in a police uniform get off. He knew he hadn't done anything wrong, but it got him a tad jittery anyways.

He shook his head. Just fill up the car, Seth, he told himself. It's that easy. He pressed unleaded. The gas started pouring in. He relaxed. Then he shivered from the cold. He had his jacket on, too; it was cold. Then he relaxed again. He wished he was in the warm inside of the car with Aveva. Then...

"Hey, big boy. You trying to drive off without paying?"

Some people have the flight instinct. Some have the fight instinct. And some people just freeze. Seth fell into the third category in this respect, and it showed; he stopped like a dead man when he heard this. Quickly, he realized two things. One – the voice was that of the police woman who had just gotten off her motorcycle. Two – she wasn't talking to him. He could hear her voice coming from the opposite stall, where the slim, slick-looking low-ride was. This both relieved and intrigued him. Securing the nozzle in his vehicle, he took a half-subtle peep over at the woman.

She was talking to a man.

"You?" The man was surprised and annoyed; why was she here? Why was she here now? His left hand gripped his quarter a little tighter.

"Hey there to you too, buddy," the woman responded in an almost seductive fashion that confused the man even more. She put her elbow firmly on the open window of the driver door and leaned in. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again. How's it going?"

"What are you doing here?" It appeared to both that the roles of the two this time around were somewhat reversed. They were taking it perfectly in stride, however, like true actors.

"Funny, I don't think you're in much of a position to ask questions, seeing as how you've just been caught red-handed stealing gas by a police officer." She leaned in a little closer and adjusted her belt. She didn't get this opportunity often, and it was her favorite part of the job. "Pretty bold move, I must say. But I guess I shouldn't expect much less from a bona fide gangster."

The man saw right through the clever dodge to his query, but decided to let it slip. Smiling, he spun his prized coin for show, then clenched it again while putting his other hand, his right hand, on his hip, which had a noticeable bulge. "You know what conceal carry is, don't you?"

After a few seconds in surprise at the threat, the woman laughed in amusement. "I'm an officer, big boy. Of course I know what conceal carry is." Very noticeably, she put her own right hand on her hip. "I prefer open carry myself, however. Comes with the job." She knew he wasn't bluffing. He wouldn't. "Tell you what. You're going to go over there to that stall and pay for your gas, alright? Then I'll lay off the handcuffs and you and I can go back about our merry little ways. How's that sound?"

The man considered his situation while a small breeze sent cold into his car. It wasn't good. If he started his vehicle and ran away right now, it would make things much worse in the end.

"I'm not foolish." His tone was dull. "I will accept defeat. I will accept it this time."

"Good boy." The woman retreated from the car door, allowing the man to get out. She then turned him around and began leading him to the stall. Three steps there, though, the man stopped. She stopped too. She followed his gaze and saw he was looking at the man next to the car that was parked across them. Having been caught, Seth flushed, jumped, and shivered from cold.

"Uh... I – well, I'm sorry, I, uh, hmm, err..."

"Just married?" The man tilted his head a little.

Seth was very startled at this. "Uh... yes. Yes, that's true." He felt intimidated by having these two figures who clearly felt stronger than him stare him down.

The man nodded after a bit. "Take good care of her." He then resumed walking, the woman following a split-second after.

All in all, Seth was still confused. He knew it wasn't his business, but it was so fascinating he couldn't keep out of it once he started eavesdropping.

"Seth? Hey, baby?" He heard Aveva calling him. He turned around and saw her leaning all the way towards the driver door. "What's taking so long? Is there something the matter? I should've come out there with you..."

Seth took a second for himself, then shook his head and removed the nozzle from the car. "No, sorry. I just, uh, spaced out. Looking up at the stars made me space out."

"Oh really?" She tried to look up. "Which one?"

Seth got on face level with her and arbitrarily picked a star for her to wow at. "Uh, that one. I think. Lost my place, I guess. They look all alike at this distance anyway. C'mon, let's get back in your seat now. I want that hotel bed." With that, the two got settled, Seth started their car, and they drove off, happy as newlyweds could be.

The woman rapped on the stall window, where a stereotypical shortish fat nerd with glasses sat in his chair snoring. His snoring stopped, his eyes opened a little, and then he shot up stammering. "Wh-wh-what's going on? Is there a problem?"

"No problem," the woman responded, casting a very obvious look at the man next to her as if seeking confirmation of her statement. "This guy right here just needs to pay for his gas."

"You know, you can pay at the pump- "

"He's going to pay right here. In cash." She kept staring at the man next to her, whose head remained high. Suddenly, it clicked for the clerk.

"Oh." He nodded in acknowledgement. "Um... okay."

The woman pushed the man. He put his hands on his nice clothes, gently feeling around them until he came up with his wallet. He took out money.

"This will cover it," he said while pushing some bills under the glass.

"It'll also cover a pack of cigarettes, won't it?" the woman asked the clerk as he popped open the cash register and fit the bills in. The clerk stopped, took the bills back out, looked at them, checked the price of the cigarettes, and then finally shrugged and said, "Uh, sure, why not."

The man's atmosphere changed to be almost identical to his surroundings: cold. She was checking his ID. She was good. But he was not one to worry; he had it. He opened his wallet again, found his driver's license, and showed it to the clerk, who confirmed he was 21 and then slid the cigs to him.

"Good job, big boy," the woman said in satisfaction. She patted the man on the shoulder before thanking the clerk. "My work here is done now. I'd best be going back to the station. Have a good night, you." With that farewell, the two males watched the police officer walk to her motorcycle, start it, and loudly roar away into the continual night.

The clerk leaned forward on his chair. "Mind if I ask a few questions now?"

A short silence occurred, followed by the reply: "No."

"Is that your girlfriend?"

"No, although we will meet again somewhere. I'm sure."

"You really smoke?"

"She was checking my ID. I would've been arrested if I was under 21."

"So you were really just gonna fill up your car and drive off without paying?"

Making direct eye contact with the chubby attendant, the well-dressed man grinned and winked. "It's what us gangsters do. We wouldn't have you thinking any less about us."

It was the man's turn to leave. The clerk watched in utter awe as he cooly walked back over to his car. Then, he slumped back in his chair and made a decision about what had just happened:

His nap wasn't over yet.

The man stopped before he reached his car, having seen two people standing beside it, waiting for someone. For him. He looked around. The one car from before was gone, and it was replaced with a beat-up truck that pretty likely belonged to the waiting pair. The motorcycle was gone. He sighed. He shivered. The night wasn't over yet.

The man made direct eye contact with the two. They looked back as if to confirm he was the one they wanted. A little reluctantly, he finished the walk to his car while analyzing the new strangers. He gripped his quarter again, more tightly than before.

There was a man and a woman. The man, by his quick estimates, was about two inches taller than him, definitely better built, around his age by about a year, and looked like he knew how to fight, even though his eyes did not say so. The girl looked strong too; this worried him more than the fact that the man looked fit. She was about four inches shorter than him, wore a smile that he might have been fixated with in another time and place, and looked... maybe 20. Clearly younger than her boyfriend. Or fiancé.

"You're not here for gas, are you?"

"No. But we don't want any trouble. We just have a question or two for you." The male of the two dug out a picture from his alright-looking jeans and showed it to the other man. "We believe you may have a relationship with this man. Do you know him at all?"

Although he kept his poker face well, the man's insides jumped. It was his best friend, the actual gangster John Buddy! How – no, what would they want with him?

"Before I tell you if I might know who this is," the man said slowly, "could I be entitled to the information regarding what you want with such a character?"

"We want to have a little talk with him," the female answered from about a foot behind him. He was surrounded. "Business. You understand, don't you?"

The man bit his top lip. "Yes, I do. The last time I saw him was... 11 days ago. I was with him at the A.X. Nightclub. He goes there... often enough. He's never alone. And he's always armed, just like me." He patted his hip. "Do you know where that is?"

"We can find out easily enough," the man smiled. "Thank you. I promise, only in the most extreme of circumstances will we have to resort to killing him. Your info is much appreciated."

"Trust us," the woman continued for her partner. The man turned around and saw she was showing her previous smile more broadly now. "We don't want to hurt him. He's only in a little bit of trouble."

"Hm." The man broke. He couldn't help smiling with them after that comment. Sounds just like him. Take care." His hand relaxed. The quarter was free to breath now.

Was it over now? The night itself had to be wondering at this point. Could it go back to sleep? Sure enough, it was that way. No goodbyes were said; instead, the pair of ninjas (for they really were ninjas) returned to their vehicle, and the gangster (or at least the wannabe one) allowed himself one more big breath of cold, cold air before getting in his Greyhound.

The car and the truck both started.

They drove softly and carefully into the dark in different directions, solidifying the end of the whole incident at the gas station. All was now back to being quiet.

All except for the clerk, who was back to sawing logs. He had fallen back asleep very quickly.

THE END.