Lola kicked off her shoes and shut the apartment door behind her. It was cold, dingy; the walls seemed to scream with loneliness, having been neglected for quite some time before her arrival. She lit a cigarette and surveyed her surroundings, shivering slightly.

It was hardly a home, but then she was never here - it was merely a place to rest her head in between jobs and stalking the streets. For now, it would do. She wasn't used to luxury; rather, she preferred to live by means and necessity.

For a woman, her appearance showed no stylistic flair or creativity. She kept her long hair in a braid, flouting fashion with her pale, unpowdered complexion and stark, accusing mouth. Few would have guessed that this was a deliberate move on her part - it seemed almost organic to her nature - but the fact was that Lola had spent her past immersed in a world of appearances, her survival entirely dependent on how good she looked. She'd long since left that behind, although the bruises dotted along her arms and legs betrayed her. They were a cowardly mustard yellow, markings left by men desperate to exert their authority over her when naked and at their most vulnerable. Whispers of doubt would still creep into her thoughts as she lightly touched the bruises, wondering when they would fade into obscurity, only to return as nightmares that threatened to wake her from the little sleep she got.

In the corner, a tattered suitcase spilled its contents across the floor, sordid little secrets that she had neither wanted to leave behind or take with her. Soon enough, she'd take that suitcase, strike a match and let the flames burn the tainted items and smoke the memories out of her head. She was in a better place now. Her world was still one of cloaks and daggers, thin smiles and hushed tones; she was used to that. She'd been the Florence Nightingale of marriage casualties, servicing punters behind their disgruntled wives' backs and sending them home stress-free and ready to shower their oblivious spouses with guilt-ridden gifts. She bore the thorns while wives got the roses.

Still, this world was different. In this world, she knew her loyalty would be acknowledged, her work ethic combining with that of others to provide a greater good for the sum of all their parts. She was now committed to This Thing, and wore her new identity like a warm winter coat, revelling in its shelter. She was eager, dilligent and eternally grateful to Chicago, her Godfather and to her family for taking her in. She'd been here such a short time, but already she owed this city her life.

Lola stood, stubbing out her cigarette with one hand while reaching for her shoes with the other. Time to get back to work, she thought - but not before I take care of one last thing. She shoved the scattered clothes back into the suitcase, closing it with a spark in her eye. Casting a glance behind her as she left, she checked her pockets for matches and pulled out a small mirror.

No harm in making a little effort now I'm home, she whispered to herself, applying a coat of dark red lipstick. She patted her pocket, checking again for her matches, picked up the suitcase and slipped out of the apartment with a resolute stride.

In an alley, hidden from view, she slung the suitcase into a trash can, pulled a match from the box and grinned as her face was illuminated by the light of the fire, twin flames flickering in her eyes and licking away her old wounds.

This Thing Of Ours, she said to herself with a smile, turning on her heel to walk towards HQ before catching a flight.

It was unfortunate for Zetsu, he was the one called up to take the hit on Lola_Delaney. Outside, In a dingy brown cadillac he sat watching her leave the apartment and walk into an alleyway at the side of the apartment building. Zetsu slowely turned on the engine and crept forward in his cadillac only getting glimpses of Lola and of fire.

He then caught glimpse of her heading for HQ, ready to pop a .44 with a silencer out the car window he notices two other gangsters from chicago walking towards Lola.

I'll have to come back tommorw , sighed Zetsu, I can't risk making this hit public. I was told to keep it hush hush after all.

Zetsu puts his foot on the gas and speeds off past lola and the other two gangsters while watching there heads turn in his direction without them a proper glimpse of his face.

Lola was mere yards away from the HQ doors when her stomach lurched with intuition. Turning to the side, she saw a conspicuous looking vehicle speed past her, and it dawned on her that she'd been watched. She was unsurprised; she knew she'd been here long enough now to start attracting attention, even if it wasn't of a desirable nature. One thing she could be sure of was this: an outsider had been observing her, most likely with malicious intent.

As she moved towards HQ, she noticed Hickey and Ava walking in her direction. She smiled and raised her hand, wondering if they too had noticed the speed at which her unidentified predator had left the area.

No matter, she thought to herself. Whoever it was clearly didn't have the gut to take a risk, and I'm sure they'll be back. I'll be watching...and I'll be ready. Whoever it was couldn't have been too prominent - what self respecting gangster of any rank drives a beaten up old Cadillac? And brown, too...puts a whole new spin on the phrase 'heap of crap'.

Laughing, she shook her head as she swung open the door to HQ, realising it wouldn't be difficult to track down her would-be assailant.