The waitress.

The hot breath against your ear wakes you as the waitress whispers in your ear, her lips barely brushing against your skin, “So, did you wait for me, or were you just tired?”

Bolting upright your eyes scan the room in near panic, your hand leaps down to the prototype between your legs, the other goes for your gun. Finding both still there you look around remembering where you are as you hear the pleasant sound of laughter coming from the girl. “Yeah, I waited for you, I was just resting my eyes.” As if to make you look even more stupid you feel a drop of drool on your chin and try to wipe it away as nonchalant as possible. “Damn I just had the weirdest dream. I was a guy working at a mall. Weird?”

She stops laughing finally and grabs your hand, “Yeah cool, tell it to your shrink. Come on, lets get you cleaned up. You look like shit.” She drags you out of the bar and you have to shield your eyes for a second as the bright sun hits your face. She looks around the parking lot before looking back at you, “What did you do walk here?”

“Yeah, well more like ran but yeah. My car is a bit over a mile from here. Can you give me a lift.” You wipe the sleep and grime from your eyes and look around. You don’t really seem the worse for wear considering last night. In fact you actually feel like you could run a marathon. Absent-mindedly you scratch your left arm and when you notice the gunk under your fingernails you make a disgusted face before trying to hide it. “Yeah I am pretty gross huh.” Quickly, without any real effort you call up your computer and scan quickly for any mention of your activities last night, and find nothing. Another quick check tells you that all the money you have is the tiny bit of cash you have on you. Then you catch a glimpse of the cute waitress with the sun playing in her blond hair and that subtle heat seems to wash over you that you know is desire. But you really do need to get to the drop to get paid.