I know this story doesn\x92t look furry at first, but it will be. Bear with me, this is just chapter 1.
This is an independent story, and not part of the genimen tales.

Story and characters are (c) Lars Hellberg

Chapter 1: The Guest

Once you go on a Quest, there\x92s no turning back. That\x92s what the capitalisation means. No turning back. It\x92s funny, the way you can remember, in so vivid detail, the little things that change your life. In my case, it was a rainy day, and I had decided to take the tube instead of walking three stops, as I usually do. That\x92s where I bumped into Jenny. The car was almost empty, but still we managed to knock into each other. She giggled, mumbling an excuse, and I guess I did the same. For several stops, yes, I did miss mine, I just sat there, trying to look at her in a not-looking way, like anybody would who falls in love at first sight. I know the clich\xE9 is awful, but it does happen, you know. Even now, that I\x92ve come to know her very well, I still can\x92t really describe my first impressions of Jenny; they\x92re at the same time too vague and too detailed. I remember every detail of her looks, the way her long blond hair would wave invitingly whenever the car would sway, her piercing blue eyes and the way she would smile every now and then, as if to an inward joke. She smiles a lot. She\x92s not very tall, about a head shorter than me, and I\x92m no giant. Her clothing; a cute, blue headband that matched her eyes, multi-coloured knitted shirt that looked as if it came from a Norwegian sell-out, black jeans that seemed gruesomely tight, and a pair of sneakers. She didn\x92t look real. There was a sense of goodness about her, a sense that told me here was someone totally honest and truly reliable. Which, of course, made no sense, seeing as how she stole both my watch and my wallet. When she left the car, I stayed on, staring at her empty seat like a puppy missing its mother. I didn\x92t leave the train until two stops later, near the end of the line, but then I switched trains and went home. All the time there were two little voices competing inside my head. \x91Aah,\x92 the first said. \x91Seeing a girl like that, it gives you hope for humanity, doesn\x92t it?\x92 \x91Idiot!\x92 said the other. \x91Why didn\x92t you follow her? You just missed the chance of your life!\x92 \x91Who\x92re you calling idiot?\x92 the first wanted to know. \x91\x92She\x92s way outta your league, man!\x92 They kept this up, both pouring bucketfuls of abuse over me as I let my feet guide me from Queensway station to the apartment. Without them on automatic pilot, I would never have found my way back. A hot shower exorcised the nagging voices, and I settled down in front of the set with a cola bottle and a slight headache. I still hadn\x92t noticed being robbed. All the channels were dead, but still broadcasting, and five minutes later, I turned it off. For a while, I thought about going back downtown, but all of a sudden, shopping seemed very uninteresting. Still trying to decide, I was a bit startled as the door bell rang. I pulled on a pair of briefs under the dressing gown, just in case it was someone I wanted to let in, and it was. It was her.
"Hi!"
"Uhm, hi. Can I help you?" Christ, what an awkward line! My blue dressing gown suddenly didn\x92t feel very suitable. I felt ready to die.
"Can I come in? I wanna talk to you."
"Sure. Uhm, please do." Bloody hell, why wouldn\x92t my mouth work!? "Can I get you anything?"
She looked around in the hallway, seemingly oblivious to the fact that I screwed up the small talk, and flashed me a smile so charming that my heart must have skipped a beat. I suddenly felt faint.
"Well, you don\x92t exactly look like you\x92re cooking supper, so I think I\x92ll pass. Here!"
She tossed me a small, leathery square, that looked vaguely familiar. I caught it and stared at it, sheepishly. My surprised look as I recognised my wallet made her giggle.
"What the hell?"
"I\x92m sorry," she said. "You looked so cute I decided to give it back to you."
Nobody had called me cute in a very long time, and I was completely taken aback. Was she pulling my leg? Did she have a cleverly concealed camera around her neck? Again, she giggled at my dumb-found look.
"Well, a girl\x92s gotta eat, right?"
"I-I guess so. But why bring it back?"
"I was hoping you\x92d make me supper. Anyways, as I said, you looked so cute, drooling after me."
"I was not!"
"C\x92mon, you were steaming." She grinned at me. "Your eyes undressed me!"
"Well," I said, blushing, "you are beautiful. Any guy\x92d look twice."
"But you looked thrice. Even fource."
"No such word."
"There isn\x92t?" I shook my head. "Well, there should be!"
"Thanks anyway, little Miss honest thief."
"That\x92s Jenny. My name\x92s Jenny."
"Short for Jennifer?"
"Jenny-fur?" she giggled, leaving me puzzled. "Only if she\x92s taller than me."
"I won\x92t pretend I got that one. Your last name?"
"Yep. I\x92m not gonna change it."
I was just about to ask her if she was joking, when she started complaining about \x91weird customs\x92 and \x91doubtful names\x92. She found it extremely funny that my last name was McArthur, when my father\x92s name was Stephen, and not Arthur. Obviously, she had searched my wallet for my address, and found other things about me as well.
"It\x92s like being called Andersson when your dad\x92s name\x92s Fiery! Hilarious!"
"If you say so." I had a hard time listening, but then she said something that caught my attention.
"Well, how \x91bout that supper, Lance? If you don\x92t cook me something, I\x92m afraid I\x92ll have to ask for the wallet back."
"But it\x92s my wallet!"
"So? I stole it."
"All right, I\x92ll cook you something. Just give me time to change, okay?"
"Okay. Be someone who\x92s not so shy, this time."
What an odd person! I thought, as I quickly pulled on some moderately fashionable clothes. Odd, yet still charming. Funny and intelligent, but with an odd sense for humour. I looked at my watch, and found it missing. My bedside alarm clock showed half past two, but what they hey! If she wanted supper this early, supper she\x92d have! When I got back into the living room, she was admiring my collection of sea shells.
"Wow. Did you kill all of these yourself?" A shiver ran up her spine. "I\x92m so impressed!"
"Well, actually, they were all empty when I found them."
"Still, wow! Those things are really scary! I wouldn\x92t want one pinching my nose."
"Heh. I guess you wouldn\x92t."
"Don\x92t laugh. Brr, the thought makes me shake!"
"So, Jenny Thief, where\x92s my watch?"
"Oh, you stopped being shy? That\x92s nice of you."
"Don\x92t change the subject!" I did my best to look stern. "My watch?"
"I liked you better before you changed. You weren\x92t mean then. Plus, that dress was a lot cuter than those horrible pants!"
"You\x92re changing the subject again. My watch?"
"I don\x92t like it when you call me thief. It sounds rude." Her lower lip was trembling, and her eyes had begun to fill with tears. "Rude and awful."
"My. Watch!"
"I don\x92t have it."
"You\x92ve sold it already?"
"Noo," She hesitated. "You see, there was this friend of mine, and he was almost out of time, so I gave him your watch so he wouldn\x92t go away."
"You can\x92t get more time that way, Jenny."
"No? Then I guess he\x92s already dead. Maybe we can ask him to give your watch back, because he won\x92t need it if he\x92s dead. Can we eat now?"
"You\x92re being very strange, you know?" I was getting irritated. "I ought to feed you a knuckle sandwich!"
"Oh Lance, I knew you weren\x92t really mad at me!" She hugged me before I could react, and made me lose my stern pose. "Not too much onion, and I really don\x92t like pickles!"
"What?"
"Pickles? Those green, awful, slimy... eww!" She made a disgusted face. "Lance, I\x92d really prefer cooked food."
"No, I meant, what are you talking about?"
"About pickles! Geez, you\x92re slow!"
"I give up. Would you settle for macaroni and cheese?"
"Not really, but I might consider staying for a while."

Supper at three o\x92clock turned out to be a nice thing, indeed. I couldn\x92t find it in me to be angry with her, even though the watch had been a gift from my mother. Jenny had a healthy appetite, and finished off two plates in the same time I managed one. Somehow, despite all mankind\x92s experience with women and weight, I found it perfectly safe to comment on this. She was really happy to hear it.
"Thanks, Lance! That\x92s a sweet thing to say. I\x92ve always been fond of food, especially good food."
"I think I have some ice-cream. Do you want dessert?"
"Oh, you do know the tricks, don\x92t you?" She winked at me, smiling. "I\x92d love some."
Clearing away the plates, I asked her to sit down in the living room, while I went to make us some ice-cream. I thought about the things she had said and done, and found myself wondering if she was perfectly sane. She didn\x92t seem crazy. Is she like this, or is she just joking? I asked myself, but couldn\x92t really find an answer. When I brought the ice-cream, she was sitting on the floor in front of the TV set, curiously tapping the turned-off screen. That\x92s it, I thought, she\x92s bananas. I decided to forget the watch, to forget her, to feed her ice-cream and then throw her out and get on with my life. She really lit up when she saw the bowls I held, and her sweet smile made me decide to forget my watch, forget my decision, and get to know her.
"Oh whee, ice-cream! You really are a nice guy, Lance. I knew I made a good choice."
"Choice?"
"Yeah. Listen, you said this was your living room?" She suddenly seemed distressed. "You don\x92t have a dying room, do you?"
"No."
"Good, because I wouldn\x92t want a lot of dead people come in here and disturb us. That wouldn\x92t be nice." She started wolfing her ice-cream, all the time smacking and rolling her eyes to show how much she liked it. "So, do you want to sleep with me tonight?"
"What!?" I couldn\x92t help spitting ice-cream all over the table. "What the...!"
"Ooh, poor you. Was your ice-cream bad? Lucky I got a good one."
"What were you just saying?" I asked, still coughing.
"That I was lucky. My ice..."
"No, before that."
"Oh, I just asked if we were having sex tonight."
"Why would you ask something like that?" I said, blushing, my brain screaming \x91go for it!\x92.
"Well, I thought it might be rude to just assume it. I mean, you might be gay or impotent or occupied or something." She smiled at this, as if she\x92d just made a joke.
"No, I\x92m not any of those things."
"I know you\x92re not. Actually, I know all about you, Lance."
"No, you don\x92t."
"Yes, it\x92s true! I know you\x92re scared of women who\x92re taller than you are. I know you accidentally shot your grandfather in the nuts with an air gun when you were five. I know you only dated three girls during your entire school years, and that none of them would..."
"All right, all right! Stop! Please, stop! I don\x92t know how the hell you do it, but this must be some kind of sick joke, right? Who paid you to do this?"
"Nobody. That\x92s why I have to steal. I\x92m a volunteer."
"All right, who made you do this?" I felt a raging blush on my cheeks, from both anger and embarrassment.
"Allied Army Colonel Whiteheart. \x91Jenny,\x92 he told me, \x91I\x92ve got a job for you. It\x92s very important, and...\x92"
"All right! Drop the comedy!"
"I\x92m not holding any."
"Just a while ago," I said, ignoring her, "you said you followed me home because you thought I was cute, and now you\x92re telling me you\x92ve known me all along? It doesn\x92t make sense!"
"You\x92re right. I lied to you. I have been looking for you. Me and some others. But we couldn\x92t find you!" Suddenly, there were tears in her eyes. "Not all of them are left. I ran into you completely by accident, and I lied so you\x92d let me in and feed me and sleep with me and then come with me so we could go back and so you wouldn\x92t have to die all too young but could be my hero!"
"Go with you? Where?"
"London," she sniffled.
"But we are in London!"
"No, I mean my London."
"Your...? I don\x92t understand!"
"What time is it?" she asked, suddenly looking worried. "It\x92s not too late, is it? You\x92ve stalled..."
"I\x92ve stalled? My watch is gone." I glanced at the wall clock. "Half five."
"Two and a half?"
"No, half past four. Four-thirty."
"Oh no! Then it\x92s too late! He\x92ll be here soon!"
"Who?"
"The man who killed you, Lance!"