Cat&&Mouse;; [NEIL]

[MICHAELA GRAVES]

Boredom was a most aggravating feeling. Michaela sat in her office, no appointments to deal with, no shady deals that could be dealt in the middle of the day. She had spent the morning listening to a woman who had heard of her more...illicit endeavors, whinging about her fiancee. It started with her complaining that he bought her engagement ring at Tiffany's, instead of DeBeers, and how she couldn't very well wear it, they had mold in their cases, can you imagine?

Well, she couldn't necessarily imagine that, so she spent her time imagining all the ways she could end this woman. For two hours she heard about this womans issues which boiled down to 'I wouldn't even be marrying him if he wasn't completely loaded.' Then the woman asked for the assistance she came for. A hit, planned on the date of their one year anniversary, to avoid suspicion. It would look like a routine mugging as he was on his way to their anniversary dinner, and this woman would walk away a widow, showing a brave face and wiping her tears away with an estimated 2.7 Million dollars.

Well, she might have been annoying, but Michaela liked her intelligence. She agreed to it, with a hefty bill. 'One million dollars is almost half!' The woman had protested, to which Michaela said simply 'Well if you feel like I'm shafting you on the price of a planned hit, you're more than welcome to go to the police.' Less than 20 minutes later, the woman was out the door, and Michaela was putting five hundred thousand dollars into her hidden safe. All was well.

But that was then, and this was now. She lamented her lack of people to play with and things to do. Murder was starting to lose it's edge, and that was frightening to her. She needed a new project, something that would last a little longer than her usual exsanguination.

Telling her simpering assistant that she was leaving early, and to take her calls, Michaela strolled out of her office building and onto Fifth Avenue. It was warm out, a staunch 82 degrees, and anybody else would be sweating in the heat. Michaela fastened her coat and headed towards the Park. Time for thought.

The park, not unlike the streets, was crowded with the usual: Bohemian couples smoking weed in the grass, a ball game, endless tourists. How quaint. Finding a bench between the pond and Wollman's rink, Mich sat and watched for something or someone interesting to come into her life. She had been toying with the idea of corruption, but most of the people she saw were already corrupted in some way or another. No, she was looking in the heart of New York for something near-mythological.

A Pure Soul.