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[His lighter appears as if by magic]

That's my cue.

Well hello Mr. Marlowe.

[Her tone could have been annoyance, could have been amusement, it was hard to tell with her.]

[Deliberately so, naturally. But then again, at least she was interesting]

Hello yourself. Fancy meeting you here - I'd call this place a dive by your standards.

Oh I don't know, this place isn't so bad. Then again you look awfully at home here.. Maybe the place grows on you after a drink.

I'm awfully at home anywhere I can get a drink, Mrs.Rutledge. This one has the benefit of giving it to you in the dark and leaving you be to drink it. You know how it is, some nights.

I'm afraid I don't know, Mr. Marlowe. But that's what men like you are for isn't it? To know the shadows, where to find people and how not to be found?

[It was a rather deliberate attempt to wound him, he felt. She was the type.]

Oh, that's us alright. As far up as they go, and as far down. You might say we get a front-row seat to life, or at least to human nature.

[Vivian was the type, but she had her reasons. The fact that she'd gone out of her way, and her comfort zone to find him here said a lot.]

You don't have to be droll Mr. Marlowe, I'll get to the point and be done dancing. Dad's ill, you know, well he's getting worse and fast. You're one of the few men he likes and it would be a great favor to me if you'd visit him.

[They were...well, he didn't know what they were, the two of them. There was something there, but it was ill-defined, a bit strange. Story of his life. But at her mention of the General, he simple went still for a moment, then pushed away the remnant of his drink, standing up and tossing his money on the bar. He respected the old man.]

Let's go.

[Ill defined meant no strings, no structure and a level of freedom that was appealing; at least to her. Vivian rose with him, surprised at the swiftness if not the decisive nature of his response]

I appreciate this, I know dad will too.

[He nodded, shrugging on his coat against the gathering cold as they exited the bar.]

I like your old man, and I don't say that about too many people. If he wants to see me, the least I can do is show up.

[She paused a moment before walking on to her car. Her hand sat gently on his arm.]

My family isn't known for getting along with a lot of people, we have that sort of reputation. It says a lot if two Sternwood's like you. I suppose it also speaks well of your level of tolerance.

[That was all the humility an iron back bone could allow and Vivian was walking swiftly after she said it, fishing keys from her purse.]

Either that or it speaks to my thick skull and stubbornness, Missus Rutledge.

The Marlowe clan is well known for its ability to bite down like bulldogs and not let go, even when it makes sense to do so.

[One could call it a sense of honour, or decency. But it had knocked him around enough he didn't try to dress it up in fancy words anymore]

You don't give up on things, even when you should?

[There was a trait that had interest for her, it had quite particular interest.]

I think by now, you know I don't. Believe me, my head and whatever other parts end up bruised and battered wish I would.

[He settled into the car with her, the gun in the shoulder holster under his jacket a quiet reminder of what his life was.]

On most people I would be able to tell, with you... I never know quite what to make of you.

[She started the car and pulled away from the club]

I never thought I would like not knowing.

[He cast a wary but interested eye at her as she pulled away]

Certainty's a useful thing, Missus Rutledge, so long as you're certain of the right thing.

And with you I'm certain of nothing. I suppose at this point given the nature of you association with my family, we could drop the formalities; call me Vivian.

[She was still coming to terms with a man who had the guts to call out her or anyone in her family. But dad liked him and that said a lot.]

[He inclined his head in acknowledgement]

Vivian it is. You can call me what you want, really - never been much of a stickler for names.

Phillip, Phil..no, not calling you Marlowe just seems odd; it suits you.

Better than 'hey you' or 'that damned detective'. You'd be surprised how often I get both, Vivian.

[When he had been working for the D.A.'s office, it had been nearly every day. Then again, they'd fired him for talking back, so it might have been a mutual dislike.]

Not all that surprising, you are good at what you do; that can get under people's skin. I didn't like you very much when we first met, but I think that was exactly how you wanted it.

[She hadn't flirted like Carmen or taken to him like her father. But they had come around to each other, in time.]

Oldest trick of the trade. You make sure the potential suspects aren't comfortable. Make 'em wonder, make them worry a little bit. That's when you get answers, throw the story off.

Everyone has something to hide, Mis...Vivian, the hard part is sorting out what's important.

Is that what you were doing with me, when you thought I might have been a murderer?

And what is important about me, now that you've peeled back the skin of my family?

A little bit, yes. But some people are too smart to take them head on with it - that was you, in this case - but you can use it as a feint. Make them think that's all that's happening.

[And well, as for now?]

Well, now...that's a very different story. If I had a plan I'd tell you, but I'm working without a net, too. You're just important, and let's leave it at that for now.

I like to think you don't know everything about me, feint or no.

[Yes, now things were different.]

I think that's good enough for now. You're important too, not just to me but to dad. You've meant a lot to this family, we're used to sycophants, not as used to people who honestly care.

Not yet, at any rate. Fella might get a mind, to, though - given the right encouragement of course.

[Which will be all the hinting you'll be getting, Vivian.]

I failed the sycophants exam, miserably. Couldn't snivel worth a plugged nickel.

[He made her laugh, that was something from the stony faced family she came from. Vivian was still smiling as she parked the car in front of the large house.

She sat a moment as if making a decision, then leaned over to kiss him. Fast, hard and without permission asked or given.]

Consider that encouragement, Mr Marlow.

[That was unexpected, and had roughly the same impact as being hit by a train. He barely had time to lift a hand, to touch the line of her jaw, before it was over. Well, well.]

A man could get used to that, and be lucky for it.

I don't think I'd mind having you around more Mr Marlow. If you were the sort of man who likes to hang around.

Well, I'm a private eye, aren't I? Pretty good at sticking around. When required, of course.

Well come on in and talk to dad, and after we'll see if you want to stick around... for the night.