Jonah: Downtown

Jonah has just finished handing over his latest scumbag to the po-po on a fine Thursday night. En route back to his car/truck/whatever, he can hear the sounds of a scuffle down one of the alleys between Orange Ave. and Robinson. Since it's a weeknight, the crowds are thin and no-one seems to be about but him. Distantly, amid the clatter and cursing, he can make out some vague shouting.

"Never a good sign." Jonah mutters to himself, turning and heading off quickly to the alleyway. He slides his hand to his billy-club with a unhappy look on his face. As usual, expecting the worse out of the dark alley's of Orlando. Tries to keep his walking quiet, to not be over heard with the scuffling and shouting.

It's a classic scene - two toughs harassing a woman. And this woman, in particular, makes for a perfect Damsel in Distress; she's dressed in a prim suit of dove-grey, her high heels modest and matching, her blonde hair pinned neatly away from her face. The two men are leering at her, advancing and forcing her to step back against the alley wall. As Jonah aproaches, he can hear their 'conversation'.

"...won't be no trouble," one of the men chuckles. "Just hand over th' purse."

"Oh, no, please," the woman protests anxiously. "Look. I'll give you what cash I have, but I can't give you my purse."

"I think she's holdin' out on us, Richie," the other fellow sneers. "Maybe we should see what else she's hidin' inside that prissy little outfit."

He couldn't believe it, it was like he was tossed into a old NOIR film. He didn't have time to think about the situation , though the inner child in him squee'd at the chance to play hero. He'd slip forward and bring his billy club back for a hard swing to the back of one thug's head, gesturing the ebony stick toward the other thug. Rolling his shoulder and grinning beneath his tucked down hooded sweatshirt.

"Now, I see it like this, short-stack. Either, you take your friend and skidaddle, or I'll be skippin' a few days ahead of schedule and making this a 'Two For Tuesday'. Get one unconscious moron, get another for free."

It's beautiful. Cinematically transcendent. The stiffening of the first thug before he collapses, the startled jolt of the other and the quick, frantic pivot he makes to stare at Jonah before swallowing hard. There's not even a moment's debate - he reaches down, hauls his friend up as best he can and drags him away as fast as his greasy little legs can carry him.

The woman, meanwhile, is pressed against the wall, pale-faced and trembling. But before Jonah can place a classic line into the moment, he's interrupted by a scene-stealer...in the form of a rather large rat who scurries along the ground and stops at the woman's high-heel-shod feet.

"Bel!" the rat says in an impeccable, Oxford-bred accent. "My goodness! I thought I'd be too late. Are you all right?"

"Yes," the woman breathes, and is seemingly completely unsurprised at who she's answering. "Thanks to this gentleman." Her eyes turn to Jonah and she smiles tremulously. "I am very, very grateful for your timely assistance, Mr. Yorkes."

His proud grin turns into a shocked look on his face. 'That can't be right .. maybe I drank too much' He thought to himself. He's silent for a good twenty seconds before finding his voice and pulling it back into this throat.

"The rodent just spoke." .. How did she... "Wait, I don't recognize you, Doll-face. How do you know my name? What is going on here?" Slowly placing the billy club back against his belt holder and gently tucking the bottom of his zipper-hoodie over it to hide most of it from first glances.

"Mr. Yorkes, I apologize for this sudden shock," the woman says sincerely, straightening her jacket carefully. "My name is Belinda Mills, and I was actually on my way to see you at your office when those two accosted me. I called for help and I suppose one of Roderick's family must have heard me..." she glances over to the rat, who nods in agreement with the assertion. "I don't think the timing was coincidence, as the Blue Lady works her influences in strange ways, but...this was not how I had planned our first introductions."

The rat, Roderick, twitches his whiskers. "And I apologize as well, my lad," he intones gravely. "I hadn't meant to shock you like this. I assumed Bel had already met you and explained things."