"She's doing great." Precocious instantly warmed to the topic and filled Morris in on every last nuance of Lucy's recent life. The conversation shifted from the ferret to numerous anecdotes on Precocious and Linda's recent lives, and from there to conversation about Morris's schedule in the four months since he'd last seen Precocious. They had to be none-to-gently kicked out of the restaurant at closing time by the manager. Morris made sure to leave an extra-healthy tip in thanks.

*

Tyler walked into Zachary's office a little warily on Monday morning and gave his best 'I'm not scared of you just because you asked me out' smile to Precocious. "Does Zachary have a minute?"

"Hey, Tyler. Let me check." Precocious pulled up Zachary's schedule on the computer and eyed it. "It looks like he's free in about a half hour if you want to wait."

For a moment, Tyler considered making up a lie about needing to run an errand just so he wouldn't have to sit in one of the overly plush chairs by the window and make small talk. He sat in one of the chairs before he could say something stupid. "I can wait." He returned the smile she gave him and clasped his hands together to keep from fidgeting. "Did you have a good weekend?" ~Jesus. Twenty years as a company suck-up, and the best I can come up with is a notch up from a bad pick-up line? What the hell is wrong with me?~

"It was a great weekend, actually." Precocious grinned. "My dad came into town for a couple of days, so we spent some time together. How was your weekend?"

"Pretty good. I got some more unpacking done, so the house is starting to look more like a house than an overdone storage unit." Tyler sorted through appropriate topics of conversation in his head as fast as he could. "Do you know if Zachary had a chance to look at the numbers on Friday?"

"I don't think he did. The OSHA invasion lasted until closing." Precocious rolled her eyes at the idea. "He may have looked at them over the weekend, but I haven't had a chance to ask or remind him. He's been tied up in phone calls since first thing this morning."

"Everything okay?"

"Your stock's fine, I'm sure."

Tyler was about to protest to the idea that he was asking purely because of his stake in the business, but then he saw the impish smile Precocious was giving him and relaxed. ~Oh, great, overreaction is *not* what I need right now.~ "Any good tips on what to buy?"

"Something with a growth factor would probably be best. I suggest stock in cat shoes."

"Cat shoes?" Tyler pretended to think it over. "You're sure it's not at a standstill? I don’t think many people by shoes for their cats."

"Oh, sure, they don't *now*," Precocious's tone was one of snooty sophistication, "but with all the press dog clothes and shoes have gotten thanks to Paris Hilton, it's only a matter of time before people start dressing their cats. Cat shoes will be through the roof." Precocious tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Of course, anyone in the *know* would *know* that." She was grinning.

Tyler couldn't help but grin back. "Of course. How silly of me." He knew he was flirting, but it wasn't as scary a thought as it had been on Friday morning. She'd asked him out. She wanted to flirt with him. He wasn’t going to lose the chance to flirt back. It felt good to know that someone still found him attractive enough to tease and cajole. Julia had stopped flirting with him way before the divorce papers were even drawn up. Tyler banned the thought of Julia and the divorce from his mind. He didn't want to think about either, considering they were in the past and had no actual bearing on whether or not he flirted with Precocious in the middle of her office. "How's Linda handling the pressure of being up this weekend?"

"She's out of her mind," Precocious said with a laugh. "She's keeping her usual crazy hours, but I think it's finally starting to affect her. She ran out of canvas last night and ended up painting a huge picture on the kitchen table."

"What are you going to do with it?"

"Put it in the show like last time."

Tyler blinked a couple of times in mild surprise. "She's painted the kitchen table *before*?"

"Twice." Precocious shrugged as if to say 'this is what happens when you live with an artist.' "It's an awesome picture, actually."

"Where are you going to eat until the show?"

"We've got a card table in the studio. I made Linda buy it after she painted the table the last time. I don't mind being without a solid table for a few days, but I do mind when I don’t have a table at *all*."

Tyler laughed at that and stood up to move around the office a little. "Do you split the cost of the table, or does Linda buy it seeing as the predecessor was maimed in the name of art?"

"Actually," Precocious paused to answer the phone. "'Ransack', Zachary Mark's office."

Tyler watched out of the corner of his eye as Precocious handled what sounded like some overbearing salesperson trying to make an appointment. He smiled as she insulted the person in such a dry manner that Tyler would bet whoever was on the other end of the line didn't even notice. When Precocious hung up, it was with no small sense of satisfaction. "Does whoever that was realize that you got him or her off the phone without making an appointment?"

"Nope." Precocious gave a triumphant smile. "He hasn't noticed the other three times, either. He's not the sharpest pencil in the pocket protector." She looked at her desk and riffled through a few things, moving folders from one box to another, and setting the post-it pads so that they were edge-to-edge. Once the reorganization was finished, she looked back at Tyler. "Now, where were we?"

"You were telling me who paid for the new kitchen table when Linda's artistic sense overruled her common sense."

"Oh, yeah. What I was saying, was that we know a man who runs a furniture store who is a huge fan of Linda's work and doesn't mind switching a new kitchen table for Linda's newly improved idea of one. He can usually find someone willing to pay three or four times as much for it when it's painted."

"Can people eat on it? I'd think all the paint would make the surface uneven."

Precocious shook her head. "Linda sands the paint down to a smooth finish before she hands the table over. The integrity of the painting stays intact, but you can eat off of it. She seals it, too, so that it can take the same abuse as a regular table."

Tyler was intrigued by the whole idea. He didn't think people bartered or traded because they were friends anymore. He remembered when he and Zachary started 'Ransack', how much of their supplies had been supplied in good faith by people who insisted that friends didn't let friends go out on a venture alone. He'd seen, over the intervening years, how much of that practice had languished as good old American greed came into the picture. "How many people out there are such fans of Linda's work?"

"In town, a lot," Precocious said. "She's a hometown hero, if you think about it. Hugoton is known for wheat and wind and that ever lovely Kansas flatness. No one outside of Hugoton ever took it for more than that. Linda's brought an awareness to the place that's given it a whole new life. Tourists come from all over the place to see the murals she's done. They come for the pictures and stay for the atmosphere. Everyone in town knows that Linda could have just as easily taken off for New York or Los Angeles and made a name for herself there without ever *mentioning* Hugoton. They're happy that she's proud enough of where she comes from to make sure it gets attenion."

Tyler sat back in his chair and stretched his legs out in front of him. All the talk about Linda was interesting, and pretty neutral territory, but he wanted to know more about Precocious. "Are you from Hugoton?"

"Nope. I was born in Alaska." Precocious saw the confused look on Tyler's face. "My mom was a teacher up there in a village. We lived there until I was four, then we moved around for most of my life. Mom and I lived on communes when we could, and she taught when she saw that she was needed. She ended up in Hugoton when I was sixteen. She taught at the elementary school, and I went through junior and senior year here. I met Linda on my third day. We fit together since we were sort of outcasts."

"Outcasts?" Tyler had a sudden image of Linda in an oversized T-shirt, ratty jeans, worn out sneakers, and paint over everything. He saw Precocious in a flowing skirt with a pleasant blouse, flowers in her hair, and a clipboard full of information on how important it was to protect the whales. "The artist and the hippie?"

"The artist and the glam/punk rocker." Precocious reached below the desk for her purse and reached into it for her wallet. "Linda pretty much looked the same, but I'd fallen madly in love with INXS and the Ramones and a few bands of the same genres, so I was always glittery with spiked bracelets. The other kids weren't quite sure what to make of me, but Linda and I got each other." She held out her wallet to Tyler. There was a picture in one of the plastic sleeves of a not much younger Linda and Precocious.

Tyler walked over to the desk to get a better look at the picture. Linda looked almost exactly like what he had imagined her. Precocious looked nothing at all like the idea in his head. She wore a red vinyl shirt, skinny black jeans, long earring, bright red lipstick, and enough spiked bracelets and glitter in her hair to make a person wonder if she was going to stab them or have Tinkerbell fly out of her hair to do the job instead. "I never would have guessed."

"Most people didn't." Precocious shut her wallet and returned it to her purse. "But, obviously, Linda wasn't fazed by a few shiny objects. She just sat down next to me at lunch one day and offered to paint some neon stripes on my face if I wanted her to. Friends forever after that." There was a sudden crash from the inner office, and Tyler jumped. Precocious didn’t react to it except to say, "Zachary must be done with his phone calls." She pressed the intercom button on her phone. "Zachary, Tyler's here. I'm sending him in."

"Fine!" The bellow came from behind the door.

Precocious rolled her eyes. "Do you know how to work an intercom phone?"

"Yeah," Tyler spoke warily.

"Show him, would you?" Precocious waved at the door. "Go on in."

"Gee, thanks." Tyler turned the knob on the door and stepped inside slowly, careful of the fact that it seemed like Zachary was about to start throwing things. "Hey, Zachary. All clear?"

"You're a funny guy." Zachary's tone made it obvious that he didn’t really think so at the moment. He was slumped in his desk chair looking very pissed and tired. It was a dangerous combination. "Come on in, man."

Tyler closed the office door behind him and sat down in the chair he'd been in a few days before. "What's going on?"

Zachary shook his head in disgust. "I've got a supplier that seems to think that he should be calling the shots since he's supplying me." He looked mad enough to spit. "Forget the fact that while he may *supply* me, I *pay* him. I need a new supplier, but I don't have anyone lined up, and this asshat supplies me thread for a half dozen very large customers."

"Asshat?" Tyler raised his eyebrows at the word usage. It didn't sound like a word Zachary would use."

"Huh?" Zachary looked confused.

"You just used the word 'asshat'."

"I didn't." Zachary sounded highly agitated at the idea. When Tyler nodded that he had, indeed, said 'asshat', he cursed quietly. "Goddamn Precocious is bad for my vocabulary. She used it to describe them a few days ago. I guess it stuck."

"It's a catchy word."