Emme was breathless by the time she reached the Coop, the broken-down boarding house where Annie supposedly lived.

The sign definitely had a rooster on it. Were it not for the gravity of the situation she might have smiled at the rustic touch to the derelict symptom of big-city sprawl, but she didn't have a moment to spare as she ran to the door. Rapping with her knuckles, she waited desperately for someone to answer.

In a few minutes' time, a squat and thoroughly disgruntled woman opened the door, pointing a shotgun directly at Emme's forehead. The witch squeaked in terror.

"Please!" she whispered, frantic. "I'm supposed to wait inside here for someone...Annie..."

"Like hell y'are, witch," said the woman. "We don't take homeless in here - wait, you say Annie? Annie from 3C? Well, why the heck didn't ya say so? Come on in, mum."

Mum? thought Emme, as she was ushered in to the warm but dusty hallway. Do I really look that old in this shawl?

Annie waited a few moments before quietly opening the backdoor. Just in case there was somebody lurking, somewhere. You never can tell nowadays. People lurk all over the place 'round here.

Sneaking a peek into the kitchen, she saw Emme waiting and looking very conscerned. "Psst!" she hissed. "Come on, follow me. The stairs are back here."

Annie led the girl up the stairs, turning back every so often to talk. "We don't have too much time, just enough to grab some supplies. I don't think I unpacked my bag from the last trip I made--ironicly enough, twas lookin fer info about yer whereabouts. Kinda funny how things turn around on ye, ain't it?"

Opening the door to her room, Annie ushered Emme inside and closed it behind them. She turned back to Emme with a questioning look. "Where would they never think to look for ye? Because ifn you ain't got any ideas, I might."

"You were...looking for me?" said Emme in disbelief. "Why? I mean..."



She twisted the hem of her shirt around nervously.

"I'm not truly sure," she said quietly. "I know sometimes when people go on the run, they go to Old Rose to lay low. I don't know anybody there...I haven't any money. But if you can help me, Annie, I swear to you I will make it up to you."

She frowned, wishing that the urge to cry would stop rising - hadn't she done enough of that already? But she couldn't help it. Was she being a coward, running away like this? Was Serro right? She had felt like a symbol during that Rally, all those people cheering and yelling. She had the chance to turn the public to the resistance, to push back once and for all against the people who had killed Willy.

Willy...what would he think of her?

I'm such a coward...

"Because you're my friend, and you were missing. Hania and Jott were scared silly, and you ain't the kinda gal to run off fer no reason. It's the kinda think what friends do, Emme."

While Emme talked, Annie went through her stuff, looking for things to pack. Gotta be quick, gotta pack light. Just a few things, make us look different. She grabbed a skirt, an extra pair of pants and a few scarves. "That's it?" she said to herself. "I have got to get a bigger wardrobe!"

"Old Rose, eh? I've never been, m'self. Not had a reason to, really. But ifn ye're lookin to hide, it's a good place to start. I like it." She checked her coinbag--plenty to make it through a coupla weeks, ifn we're careful enough--and made one last visual sweep. There wasn't anything else they needed, and her plant...well, she could always grow another one. Maybe. With a sigh, she draped her trenchcoat over the back of her desk chair and placed her fedora on her bed. Best not to take these, just in case.

Annie shouldered her pack and turned to Emme. "This is your chance, Emme. Are ye sure ye want to do this? Once we walk out that door, there ain't no turnin back. We head to the river and hitch a ride outta town, and we don't come back til the coast is clear."

Emme blinked. "Wait...you're coming?" she said, again not quite believing what she was hearing. "But your job, your...home..."

Annie chuckled and shook her head. "In case you haven't noticed, there ain't much comin out of the Post nowadays, what with this new 'no news that is news' policy bein stamped on our heads. What good is writin a story ifn nobody's gonna read it? No, kid, you need me a lot more'n they do. I might not be the smartest wick on the block, but at least I've been on the block. As fer this place..." Annie waved her hand at the shabby excuse for a dwelling. "Mildred's used to me comin an' goin. I leave some coin on the table and she keeps it til I get back, no matter how long that is. We sorta have this whole barter system goin, where if somehow I don't leave enough I make it up to her upon my return. I've done my fair share of laundry 'round here, let me tell you!" The reporter paused to leave said coins on the table by her bed before continuing, "I don't have family 'round here, Emme. I have contacts, and up until recently that's all. But now there's you, and Khymarah, and Fion...that squeak Tito...heck, even Scarlett! I have friends--real friends!--and they're more important to me than anything else."

Annie walked to the door and lay her hand on the doorknob. "Right now, one of those friends has asked fer my help, and I aim to give it. Are you ready?"

Emme's jaw dropped during Annie's confession. Boy, that girl could monologue! She wanted the floor to swallow her up as she listened to the sad story, especially the part about friends - here she was, dragging Annie away from them...

"Yes, I'm ready," she said in a small voice. "But...do you have a pair of scissors, Annie? Before we go?"

*(Yeah, I do tend to do that sometimes, don't I...)*

"Sure, they're around here somewheres." Annie rummaged through a few desk drawers before turning around and handing them to Emme. "Whadya need 'em fer?"

Emme steeled herself. But this was important - sacrifices had to be made.

Her long hair was pulled into a front ponytail - her whole life she'd grown it out, like her mother told her to. It was dull and boring, like the rest of her. But it was easily recognizable, and she had to do anything she could do avoid being seen. She grit her teeth, closed her eyes and closed the scissor blades.

The bundle of hair came off neatly, and she was left holding several feet of hair. Her neck felt very cold, her head light, as though a great weight had been lifted off her.

Shocked at what she had done, she handed the scissors back to Annie.

"Well," she said, shakily. "That's that."

Annie stood there, mouth gaping, eyes bugged. Did I really just see that? Emme was handing her something. The scissors. The scissors she'd just used to...

Taking a deep breath, Annie shook her head to clear away the violent shock factor. "Uhm, ok. Yeah. I suppose that's a good decision..." Blinking a few times, she took back the scissors. "I ain't no hairmaker or nothin, but we can at least even it up a bit." Annie trimmed a bit around the edges, making sure Emme's drasticly new short hair was short all over. She stood back, surveying her work. Emme's long, thick hair was now a delightfully short pixie cut. It don't look that bad on her, really. Hmm. Maybe I could...not think about that anymore. Yeah.

Annie looked at the floor. It was covered in hair bits. With a casual shrug, she kicked most of it under her bed. "I guess we're good now, eh kid?"

Crossing back to the door, she opened it wide and made a sweeping motion towards the hall. "After you, oh ye of little hairs."

"Thanks," she said, still a bit shaky from the drastic haircut. Inwardly, she bemoaned the loss, but it was freeing, in a way. She shook her head and felt the swish of hair around her neck. What a strange sensation...

Stepping through the door, she looked back at Annie.

"We'd better take the main roads to the harbor," she said. Her voice seemed a bit stronger now, more grown-up, as she felt her confidence returning. "The brigk...I mean the Seventen are patrolling up and down the street. They won't stop two nobodies. But the party will be looking through the back alleys."

As she felt her way down the dark stairwell, she pulled her hood over her head once more.

Annie shut the door behind her, and followed Emme down the stairs. When I signed up to be a rovin' reporter, a life on the run ain't 'zactly what I had in mind, but it sure beats typin up baby dedications fer a livin'.

Although Emme couldn't see, Annie was smiling. "Aye, that's sound logic t'me. The closer we are t'danger, the further we are from harm. 'Sthe last thing they'd 'spect, that's fer sure. Good idea." Man, if I knew a haircut made folks confident, I'da shaved mine a long time ago. Who knows, maybe this whole 'playin' keepaway' thing'll do Emme some good. Lord knows I won't be able to take it ifn she starts cryin again.

Annie tied her hair back in a scarf as they walked. She regretted not having her camera with her, since it could potentially come in handy once they arrived at Old Rose. Cameras were conspicuous, however, and it made sense to leave it behind. 'Sa shame, really. I'da liked to have proved I'd been there.

The two wicks entered into the kitchen, and Annie gave a polite not to Mildred, who was still awake. "Be back sometime, Millie. You know what t'do." Mildred nodded and continued polishing her gun, and Annie opened the front door. The street was quiet, but not completely empty; all the more reason for them to walk faster. She turned to Emme and shrugged in the direction of the main road. "C'mon. Let's make like a tree and get outta here."