Val froze in his tracks as she turned her attention on him. "And I assume you are a reporter, correct?" She asked, shards of ice forming in her silky voice. For a moment he pretended to look around, as though she were talking to someone behind him, but he could tell she wasn't buying. He cracked a smile and stepped forward, scratching behind his ear with the pen before leaning up against the ambulance and spreading his hands lazily. He wondered if the cop had caught the look that passed between the women, but decided it didn't really matter.<br/><br/>"Heh, guilty. So, uh, would you care to make a statement concerning your involvement in tonight's disturbance, or-" "Hey, buddy, the lady's had a bad night. She doesn't need some vulture hassling her about it, got it? So back off." The cop broke in, eyeing him sternly. Val looked the cop over and decided the guy was probably serious. He shrugged and backed off a couple steps, and looked back to the women. Damn, they were hot! 'Focus, dammit. If you want to ogle chicks, there are bars for that all over town. Now close this down and get out of here!'<br/><br/>Valentine reached into his jacket, slowly in case the cop decided to get a little more protective, and withdrew a pair of small, smooth white cards. He flicked them between his first and middle fingers, and handed one to each of the ladies with a flourish. "Just in case either of you decide you'd like to talk...or ah, heh, anything else for that matter...just give me a call. Anytime." He nodded to the women and, largely ignoring the cop, turned and walked away.<br/><br/>As he left, he glanced back over his shoulder to catch both of them studying his card. There wasn't much to see: smooth matte finish, double-sided. On the front, only his name, 'Valentine Marlar', embossed in a neoclassic script. On the flip, only his number, 555-2287. He smiled and kept walking.