The Scent of Gardenias in the Early Summer Rain...

Guy laughed perhaps a little too loudly. "That's just what I said! I'm glad someone else understands! Anyway, how was it that you got to be in your line of work?"

" Well, it's kind of a family business, usually passed on to males, but my father was a big loner, and only had one child, which was me, and I was an accident." she laughed. "Therefore, I inherited the family business. Luckily, I enjoy it." she took another sip of her martini.

"Yes, you clearly do. And you seem to be really good at it too, despite its obvious dangers! I noticed that you have some scars. Lots of stories to go with those?"

"Oh, definitely. Well most of them are simple. My favorite is this one." she indicated the scar on her upper right shoulder that glittered when the light hit it properly. "This was from a Columbian drug lord that was mad because I didn't want half of my payment in cocaine. His wife was so nice though..." she indicated the scar on her left bicep, "This one was just from a trip to Afghanistan where two warring parties decided to start fighting while I was there. I got caught in the crossfire, complete accident...then the one on my calf is from a deal that went bad because I tried to charge someone more then they wanted to pay, so I got hit while escaping, and the one on my thigh is actually pretty hilarious. A poor new weapons dealer accidentally shot me when his gun discharged. He was so nervous!" she laughed. "I shot him back though, so it's alright. The one on my stomach...that one almost killed me. It was on my third deal, and the people who killed my father decided I should be next. I also have one up here," she said moving her hair aside. It covered up a streak of bumpy scar tissue along her left temple. " It was mostly just a graze."

"My goodness. It really is a dangerous job. I haven't even been shot once, but of course, I live in Japan, so it's not surprising! Aren't you afraid of getting killed?"

" No, of course not. If I was then I couldn't do it. The only thing I've been worrying about lately, is that if I do die I don't have anyone to pass the business, or my money on to...but yeah, I've definitely lost any fear of death." she said smiling.

"I see what you mean. Even though I was a cop for so long I still can't help but be afraid of death. I guess you just have to get that close to death before you can lose your fear of it. I mean, guns are illegal in Japan, so I haven't had much contact with lethal weapons before I met you."

" Having contact with me will do that," she chuckled. " I almost died from my head scar too. Just by a few inches. That was my own fault though...do you want dessert?"

"Ah yes, that sounds wonderful. Some chocolate mousse sounds delicious!"

" Oh god, you're right." she replied immediately ordering some. After dessert she quickly snatched the check before Guy could.

As the two exited the restaurant, Guy took a deep breath and turned to Bayle. "Well then. I suppose this is where we part ways, huh?"

"For now. If it's not to scary for you I'd like to keep in touch." she said smiling.

"Of course! I'd love to talk to you again. You know, I don't think I even gave you my number. Here's my card," he withdrew a business card from his pocket and handed it to her. "You can call me any time! I'm probably still not going to have a lot of cases on my hands."

"Thank you. Here." she gave him her card in return. " I'll talk with you soon. I'll miss having you around." she gave him a tight hug before sending him on his way with his briefcases. "Don't get mugged on your way home."

"I'll miss you too! See you around, Bayle! And don't worry, my detective's intuition will keep me out of danger!" He laughed and hugged her tightly before finally going on his way. He skipped home happily, but the stress of Contractors and talking cats and what have you was piling up steadily. He'd have to enjoy a nice cigar when he got back to the office.

Finally, he knocked and slowly opened the door of Kurasawa Detective Agency, but no one was there. He sighed in relief and quickly lit up a cigar as he set his briefcases down. He was told never to tell anyone about what happened over the past week, but no one said he couldn't keep a personal record... He would have to spend quite some time writing in his journal.

Finally, as he took a seat behind his desk, he opened up the briefcases.

There was more money there then one could count just by looking. There was definitely the $250,000.00 the widow owed him, and also a case of six cigars with a note attatched to them that said, 'Take that thing out of your mouth. These are better.' After counting all the money, most likely in complete shock, Guy found himself $1,250,000.00 richer altogether.

Guy's lit cigar fell out of his mouth and onto his lap as he stared on dramatically in shock, his mouth hanging open. Then, flailing and yelling as it burned his leg, he managed to stomp it out and return his attention to his money.

"Th-This is..." He closed the suitcases tightly. "Th-There's no way I can let that pink-haired freak see all this. It'll be gone within a week!"

He quickly stashed the suitcases out of sight, just in case, though not before withdrawing the case of fine cigars and lighting one. He lowered the blinds in the room so that lines of shadows fell over his face.

"Ah, yes," he said. "This are much better." He leaned back in his chair and pulled his hat over his eyes as he enjoyed it. "Yes, this case was much better. This is only the beginning of a series of great adventures. My detective's intuition is never wrong!"