The ding of the timer pulled me out of my thoughts. It was dinner time.

  When I asked Blaze if she was hungry, she finally stopped working, at least long enough to eat. She’d wrapped up her report about halfway through while the pot simmered on the stove. She’d been working on follow-up notes.

  Over dinner, we skirted most Game talk, drifting instead into easier ground. I think neither of us knew quite what to say, and with no messages from Shadow or anyone else, I just hoped everything was going smoothly for her at work.

  The time together felt good. Just two people talking, swapping stories that wouldn’t matter in the long run but made us laugh in the moment…odd people we’d met, strange things we’d done.

  Eventually, Blaze leaned back in her chair, coffee in hand, and told me something heavier. “The president picked Matt Bledsoe to be one of the top deputies for the Game Response Agency. She nominated a famous ex-politician for director. Matt’s supposed to run the adventurer training side, and the politician handles the politics.”

  “Sounds like a solid split,” I said.

  She nodded, but while she spoke, something weighed on her. I didn’t find out what until after dinner, when the kitchen was clean and we were settled in the living room with fresh coffee. Her words came out slowly.

  “I don’t know if I can do it,” she said.

  I set my cup down. “That’s a big line, isn’t it? Do what?”

  “All of this. The agency, the office, the double life between being an FBI agent and being…Blaze, The Fire Mage With Nerves of Steel.’” She lifted her fingers in quotes, then sighed. “They expect me to master the Game and run the office at the same time. That’s two full-time jobs to do either of them half right.”

  “Two jobs done the way you think they should be done,” I said. “That’s not unusual. A lot of working mothers juggle that. Gar-Kosh and Agra do, and they’ve got kids. They still show up when needed. Most people can't do as much as we do. Maybe some in college or high school. Otherwise they can’t.”

  “I know.” She stirred her coffee, not drinking it. “It still bothers me. You always seem to have an answer. You said you could survive without your editing job. I don’t have that option. What am I supposed to do?”

  I leaned back. “That’s a tough one. I want to tell you to do what makes you happy, but I know that’s not enough. Being an agent has been your dream since you were a kid. You’ve made it, and you’re good at it. Getting the residency? That was because you impressed people.”

  “You impressed a Deputy Director. I’m sure you getting the residency was his doing.”

  “Associate Deputy Director,” she admitted. “He said so himself. He wanted to keep me here.”

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  “Keep you here for what? Game work? Teaching other agents?”

  She hesitated. “Both.”

  “And if someone robbed a train?”

  Blaze laughed. “No one robs trains anymore.”

  “They do. Mostly break into parked ones, stealing cargo for resale.”

  “Oh… right. Still local law’s job.”

  “What if it’s a kidnapping, across state lines, and the victim turns up here? Would that be your job?”

  “Interstate transport and kidnapping? That’s us,” she said. “FBI would be involved. But honestly, it doesn’t happen often. Usually, the locals have it handled before we’re called in.”

  “So, you’d do your job…but you wouldn’t form a party for it.”

  She thought a moment, then nodded. “Right. Unless it was all agents and local officers.”

  “See? You are the agent you wanted to be. That won’t change. The badge isn’t about fighting crime…it’s about helping people, isn’t it?”

  She smirked. “There you go again.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Being right and making people feel better. You can’t stop, can you?”

  I laughed with her. “Being right? I grinned at her. “Helping people? No, I probably can’t stop. Guilty as charged.”

  “Too much sometimes. You don’t always know when to back off.”

  “True. I keep getting reminded of that. But I think I’ve learned…mostly. Pausing for a moment for thought, I continued, “At least sometimes I remember it and even do it.”

  She gave me a knowing look, then tilted her head. “You’re even trying to help the dungeon, aren’t you?”

  “I am. Feels like there’s still a person trapped inside it, somehow. Maybe they don’t remember who they were, but they were someone once. Same with the ring.”

  “I heard you talking to it earlier. Have you explained what you’re doing, and why?”

  “Not yet. I should. Maybe tonight.”

  “Does it have to be now?”

  “The STORE’s open twenty-four-seven. It can wait. But I still need to figure out what to sell and what to keep for the guild.”

  “We’ll be swimming in more loot anyway,” Blaze said.

  “Low-level junk, yeah. Luckily it stacks.”

  She considered. “Then sell most of it. Let the guild keep the higher-end weapons and armor. We should split the coins five ways. That’ll help us all gear up.”

  “That works. Or six ways and the guild gets a share. I’ll suggest both as a guild rules. We build up the guild beyond what the Game provides and stockpile starter gear for new players. I think a few guilds that do it now.”

  “Bring it up at a meeting. Even if it’s over chat.” Blaze said.

  “Beer and brats would be better.” I suggested.

  She chuckled. “As long as there’s no Chicken Dance.”

  “Not unless someone volunteers. I can only promise not to force it on anyone else. Or on you again.”

  She gave a mock-serious nod. “Good. I’ll go that far.”

  She looked thoughtful then, quiet for a while. I let her sit with it. Finally, she asked, “Will? Those caster robes…they’re all the same?”

  “Yeah. Brown cloth, maybe a hood. The mobs never wore hoods up. Orc Mage Robes: +1 INTELLIGENCE and +5 DEFENSE, or +2 INTELLIGENCE. Why?”

  “I want one. And a staff.” She stood, hand out.

  “OK.” I pulled the robe with the higher stats, and a Shaman staff from my INVENTORY. She accepted them with a soft “Thanks” before heading toward her room.

  I watched her go. “I think she’s going to put the robe on. She said she didn’t want them. Why the change?” I wondered.

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