“Well yeah, but not with them.” “What bothers you so much about these people?” Ken asks, pulling out some stirfry for himself.

“It’s Dirk Gently.” “Dirk Gently?” Ken huffs out a laugh, “Bart, that guy just saved your life.” “I know. That’s what’s bothering me.” “That he saved you?” “That he had to.” Ken sighs and pushes himself back from the table. “Is this about me? About how I didn’t realise how close the guards were until it was too late?” Bart glares at him as she snatches a piece of pork out of the take out bag. Ken was sure the box inside was secure but with Bart, she could snatch just about anything.

“No.” she says mid chew, “It’s about me. I should have been faster. Or ..somethin’” “Maybe it’s good to have people other than me looking out for you. People who can actually run in and fight instead of sitting in a van and worrying constantly. I can’t know everything, Bart. You can’t know everything, Bart.” “I know.”

Ken smiles at that and stands up with his take out. “I’m gonna go scope out the pool.” he tells her. He puts two fingers on the card and pushes it closer to Bart. “Think about it?”

-

Ken pushes open the doors of Holistic Consulting, his body practically vibrating with excitement. The offices take up the whole floor of a building, which Bart doesn’t get. She and Ken work perfectly well in a van that could fit into the corner of the waiting room. She grits her teeth as she glances around. The two doors behind her lead out. If she cranes her neck a little she can see that the one right in front of her leads into some sort of board room. “It’s kinda big.” she tells Ken, hoping he’ll pick up on her discomfort and tell her that this was all a mistake.

Before he can reply a wall to the right opens. No, a door. A door that is a wall. A wall that is a door? A woman holding two cups of coffee comes out. Bart recognises her as the Hitter. Bart thinks she could remember the woman’s name if she tried, but she doesn’t bother. She takes the coffee that’s handed to her and follows the woman’s directions. Right back through the wall-door. Door-wall…. It leads through to a cramped space. Three desks are crammed into the space. One is piled high with junk that Bart can’t find a reason for. A light bulb, a crank, a clown toy… Her eyes skip over to where a guy is sitting. She thinks he might be the Grifter. A few wadded up costumes are strewn about over his chair and under his desk. He’s got his head pillowed on his arm and is looking through them.

The last desk is organised meticulously, the papers piled in two different trays and the pencils in a uniform grey cup. “Uh.. Dirk?” The woman calls. There’s a clattering from underneath the first desk and then a frazzled looking Dirk Gently peeks over the top. “Ah, yes! Bart, Ken!”

As Dirk clambers around the desk his leg catches on something and he stumbles. He rights himself with vigour and reaches out to shake their hands. Ken accepts his hand, Bart glowers at him and holds her overly hot cup between both hands. “Have you two thought about our offer?” he asks undeterred. Ken nods his head and jerks his head towards the door. “I’ve got all my stuff back in the van.”