Al smiled at the struggle near the door.  Dwayne was hopping and the woman – the Bitch, that was what he'd resolved to call her in here, they're our toys, ours to do what we want with, they're not really human – the Bitch was stamping and yelling obscenities.  But it was more or less under control.  Wasn't it?  Al had to raise his voice:<br/><br/>'She'll have the keys.  Shout if you need help with locking up.  I'll do the shades.'<br/><br/>He was in more of a hurry to get behind the counter.  The other woman's – the Cunt's – knee-length skirt was riding up a little under Aaron's minstrations.  But she had an air of quiet focus.  Ah: when he got close, he saw the alarm button jut beneath the desk.  'Watch out for that,' he pointed.  Aaron got the message.  'There's an office where they do interviews.  Drag her back there, get her in a chair or something, OK?'<br/><br/>They hadn't given names to each other.  He didn't want to say Aaron's name out loud.  Hell, he hadn't said 'Dwayne' out loud had he?  Too late if he had.<br/><br/>He turned back to see if Dwayne needed any help...