"This isn't gonna work. They're going to know," Amy fretted, "and then we're in trouble!"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. Anyhow, LJC is sending someone up who should be able to help us a bit, to be another assistant director. She's got stage experience, and she's willing to help us look good, here. With her input and Valerie's background, maybe we can pull it off. Assuming things stay confused enough... That's your job."

"I'm beginning to think it was a good thing that we packed everything under the sun coming up here!" Di giggled. "We're gonna wind up using it!"

"OK, does everyone know their parts?" Valerie asked. "Here we go; the limo's arrived."

"See ya later! I'll probably get to the set at about three!" Betsy yelled from the other room.

"Bye!" They all chorused.

They trooped out the front door of Don's apartment building and down to the waiting car en masse. They presented a very different sight than the relaxed, comfortable bunch who had visited the Coroner's office and thrown the huge birthday party. Everyone wore smart business clothes now and was trying on a business attitude. This didn't last long, however.

"I get to ride backwards!" Jennie crowed.

Amy shuddered. "How can you do that without getting carsick?"

"I dunno, I just don't. I'm glad you're being the actual director, Valerie; you've got a much better idea what to do with the part than I would. I'd be just realizing that I haven't a clue what to do now!" Jennie was beginning to chatter a bit fast, and Amy wondered if that was nervousness or the fact that she'd been on the phone with LJC so much lately.

Valerie just shrugged and commented philosophically, "The worst that can happen is they realize who we are and kick us out. At least we'll have tried!"

"Hey, Sharon?" Pod leaned forward and peered at what Sharon was doing. "What are you doing with that?"

Everyone looked at Sharon. She was systematically tearing an empty Styrofoam cup to shreds and putting the pieces inside it. She shrugged.

"Bad habit, I guess."

The takeover went remarkably smoothly. LJC had done her work well, and nobody on the set questioned the new "director." Apparently "Mr. L." had left rather quickly once the deal from LA was firm, although Jennie was starting to wonder if the "deal" had been a bit "firmer" than she'd intended. No, she didn't want to think about that possibility. All she knew was that the Ravenette had an awful lot of connections. Each of the Natpackers took over a position within the production staff, most of which were "temporary augmentations to aid in dealing with all the fans present." It worked beautifully; by the end of the first night they had several of the basic script changes they'd wanted in place and had worked out a tentative filming schedule.

"Ooh, it's about time to call it quits for the night," Jennie yawned, stretching lazily, then she stopped and looked around the office. And counted heads. "Wait, did Betsy ever make it here?"

"I haven't seen her all day," Elaine replied, "do you think she got lost?"

"I hope she didn't get into any trouble. There are Cousins about, you know," Pod put in.

"Oh, she probably had trouble getting in or something, or couldn't find this place, and went back to Don's. We've had all of the phone lines busy most of the day, after all!" Valerie noted.

The rest of the pack looked a little guilty as they packed it in for the night.

Later that night (morning, actually,) at Don's, they were rather upset to find that Betsy hadn't been seen since she'd left, right on time, that afternoon.

"Hmm... Maybe we should call the police..." Amy suggested, picking up the phone. "She's been gone too long, and this is a strange city."

"Perhaps she called Nat, check with her first," Selma suggested.

"Oh, yeah, good idea," Amy said, dialing the numbers.

"Yes, it's a gray Escort, and it's got one of those little yellow signs in the back window. I think it says something like, 'Who's on Board,'" Amy said into the phone. "Yes. I think she said it made it easier to find her car. No, none of us know the license plate, but it's probably a Michigan one. We're just worried, we don't know anything's happened. She could be lost, or she could have run into a friend or something. Yes. OK, thanks!" She hung up.

"Nat is going to pass the information on to Nick. He can get the officers to keep an eye out for her. If she's still missing tomorrow night, we should call the station directly." She sighed.

"OK, lets get some rest." Sharon suggested.

The following day, Sharon looked up from her lunch, just in time to catch the traffic report on the TV.

"Hey! Look!" she yelled, startling everyone in the room.

"What? You live in New York and you've never seen traffic like that before?" Pod jibed. "Oh, wait, you're not used to it moving that fast, are you?"

"No! Look in the center of the screen! Isn't that Betsy's car?"

"Oh, you're right!" Amy started to say, as the scene flickered out to be replaced with the reporter's face. "It did look like hers, I thought I saw blue Michigan plates, and I know I saw the yellow thing in the back window! Let's call the station and find out where that was!" she grabbed phone and phone book.

"Yes, OK, thank you anyhow. Good-bye." Amy hung up the phone, a dejected look on her face.

"They traced down the footage, but it was taken at 7:00 this morning. She could be anywhere in the city by now," she reported.

Jennie sighed and looked out the window. "I suppose we should call and tell Nick," she said wearily.

Speaking of whom, she had seen on the shooting schedule that they would be filming a Caddy scene not too far away. She hadn't had a chance to see The Car in action yet, and she certainly didn't want to miss it.

She quickly found the specified location and stood out of the way, observing. She hoped costuming wouldn't mind that she was still wearing her uniform, but she loved feeling like such a part of everything. Besides--she glanced down and brushed at an invisible speck of dust--it looked rather flattering on her, if she did say so herself.

"You! Come stand over here."

She looked up to see the director pointing at her. "Who, me? I'm not in this scene."

"You are now. I've decided I want a cop walking by in the background, and you're already in costume. I don't have all night."

"Sure. Whatever you say." She listened carefully to his instructions. All she had to do was stroll down the sidewalk, projecting an image of vigilance. Nothing to it.

She heard "Action!" and began her walk, taking in the details of her surroundings like a good policewoman. Suddenly she caught sight of a familiar dark gray Escort driving around a corner and disappearing. Wasn't that--? No, it couldn't be! Could it? She had certainly spent enough time in Betsy's car, she should recognize it.

It was too late to do anything about it now, the car was long gone.

<Of course, it may have been captured on tape,> she thought, eyeing the cameras surreptitiously in the guise of checking for crime. She nearly grinned at the idea of Betsy being in the shot, despite getting lost.

A moment later, she had identified the garment to which the hateful scent clung. It was a long, dark-green trench coat. She hissed again, then remembered something from one of the few times her human had convinced the Jennie-human to enter Tuppence's home. The Jennie-human was allergic to cats! And she was one of the ones the Fanged One disliked. So, he would want her to make the Jennie-human unhappy--

Her hiss became a thoughtful rumble as she reared up and snagged the coat with both front claws. She leaned her weight on it, and the garment slid free of the hanger and landed in a heap on the ground.

She burrowed into it, until she was completely wrapped in the plaid flannel lining. Now, she needed only to shed... Yes, to shed, that was the difficult part. She was impeccably groomed, as always, and did not have a great many loose hairs to lose. Now how...

Her head came up, suddenly, and she gave a little "yow" as inspiration struck. Of course! It was so simple!

Tuppence crouched lower, closed her eyes, and thought, intently, of... The **VET.**

In less than a minute, a thick cloud of sleek, gray hair was released inside the coat. She rolled around a few times, to be sure all the coat was well covered, then left the costume shop, purring in satisfaction. Nothing like catching two birds with one pounce to put her in a good mood--and the Candice-human would be here soon, with breakfast...

Some time later, on the set...

"achoo! Achoo! Achoo! Achoo! ACHOO! ACHOO! ACHOO!" Jennie sneezed. She itched, and her nose was clogging. "Hey," she sniffled, "I tought du said dere weren't ady adimals on de sed?"

"There aren't," Valery replied. "I checked."

"My dose says dere are," Jennie snuffled. "Where's by Benadryl?" She pulled off her coat and walked over to her purse. As she tossed the coat on her personally-monogrammed cast chair (Mr. P. had had one made for every FKFIC-Ler who had worked on the show), she noticed something on the plaid lining. A cat hair. And another... And another... Dozens of short gray hairs...

"Ay!" she cried through her completely-blocked nose. "By goat is govered bit gat air!" She grabbed the Benadryl from her purse in one hand and began brushing her clothes off with the other. "I deed a shower. I'll be bag zood..."

"But, Jennie!" Valery called. "You're scene's next! Jennie! Jennie!"

Her only answer was another explosive series of sneezes.

SHARON SCOTT follows MARGARET NEWMAN up the hall. She smiles patiently at Margaret's excited burbling.

INT. ROYAL CONSTELLATION HOTEL - ROOM 1657 - NIGHT

Sharon and Margaret huddle against one wall. SUSAN GARRETT has her arms around Margaret, comforting her.

NICK KNIGHT caresses Sharon's cheek. She steps into his arms crying on his shoulder.

SCHANKE stares at the body. He's barely in control of his emotions. He notices Cohen heading his way, forces his attention to an open suitcase and pretends to take notes.

Cohen joins him, peers into the suit case and gingerly lifts a pink fur-trimmed teddy. She glances over at the women.

SHARON glances up embarrassedly at Nick and hastily steps back from him. She opens her mouth to say something then changes her mind.

BY THE BED

THE CORNER

Susan's mouth drops open.

Nick stares at the contents of the evidence bag.

Captain Joseph Stonetree lying face down across the bed partially clad in a black negligee.

EXT. SKYLINE TORONTO - NIGHT

The opening credits run.

INT. PRECINCT - NIGHT

The normally chaotic room seems just a bit more sedate than usual.

Cohen heads behind her desk. She gestures towards a corner. Nick's eyes go wide for just a second. He regains his composure as she says...

Schanke walks a few paces ahead of Nick and LaCroix. They walk toward Nick's Caddy.

LaCroix stares at him a moment, glances at an amused Nick, then climbs into the back seat.

Nick turns the key and looks to Schanke.

"I think she'll like the Mocha Raspberry Cheesecake," Maddog said as she looked around the apartment, noting the cat hair laden bookshelves. Wondering if Natalie would notice a book or two missing.

"Probably, I mean, we ate an entire one by ourselves last Saturday and it normally takes us two days to polish one off. Do you think she'll like the hat?" Rastro held up a ten gallon white Stetson. She'd wanted to keep it herself but decided a black one would be more fitting.

"Sure she will, it is the proper kind of hat to eat cheesecake by," Maddog grabbed the hat and put it on her head. "Cheesecake, I've got you in my sights. Surrender now or be eaten!"

"Your calories or your life?" Rastro suggested.

"These here jeans aren't big enough for the both of us, cheesecake."

"Stop me, Marshall, before I overeat again."

"I got it," Maddog grabbed the cheesecake and held an imaginary gun to it. "Cheesecake, one more move and you're on my hips forever!"

The two Lurkers began giggling uncontrollably. Then, one of those events that often happens when the probability fields are never in your favor occurred. The cheesecake jiggled itself out of Maddog's hands onto Natalie's carpet.

"Uh, oh," said Rastro.

"Uh, oh," said Maddog.

"Meow," said Sidney as he started helping himself to the mess of tasty dairy product on the floor.

"What are we going to do?" Maddog asked, carefully putting the Stetson down on the table near the fallen cheesecake. "Won't the cat get sick from eating all that?"

"Yeah, he'll probably barf all over everything," Rastro shook her head judiciously, after all, didn't she have barf cats as well as fart cats.

"Think we'd better go lurk elsewhere before he does," Maddog suggested as Rastro activated the Tesseract and the two Lurkers found themselves elsewhere.