"Hullo Sugarlips," Rosetta whispered as she leaned over the figure seated at the table, "Tough day tied to the desk of knowledge?"
"Brutal." he replied, smiling. "And how were things along the space-time rails today?"
"Oh, you know. A jump to the left, a step to the right, hands on my hips, knees in tight.." The man rolled his eyes in mock exasperation and Rosetta continued: "Okay. Unbelievable, to say the least." she sighed, and quickly recounted her day in the slums of 20th century America. "And tomorrow..." she handed him the silver sheet of her assignment and perched lightly on the table as he quickly scanned the document. His face grew dark.
"How do you plan to pull this off?" he asked
"Not sure just yet. I'll have to evaluate the scene, to be sure, but I think I'll probably just do it myself and save the trouble of waiting...."

"Oh yes," he looked at her grimly "Icy though. I suppose even my life would mean little if there were a song involved?"
Rosetta laughed and drew her finger quickly across her throat in a slashing motion. "Like the proverbial doornail, my sweet." She grinned again, and when the smile slowly crept across his face as well, she kissed him punishingly.

That evening, as they lie tangled, he turned to her and said: "You know, it's been discovered."
"Whassat?" she mumbled
"Portal technology is no longer a secret, I think. There was talk at conference today about more than a few groups planning leisurely jaunts through no-man's land."
"Meaning?" she yawned
"Meaning, be careful." his kissed her forehead as she drifted off to sleep.

Morning rose, and Rosetta found herself on a dusty road near a small farmhouse. Tattered cotton dress, no shoes, and definately no feather in her cap on this one. For lack of having a pocket to put it in, she went behind the barn to hide her transmitter. She then followed the road into a small, dusty cotton town, and she spent the morning in search of her prey. She spotted the woman, leaving the house of a friend, and followed her to the general store. She saw the woman talking to various people, one of whom was a tall, broad man. "Perfect." she thought to herself.

That evening, she followed the woman on her walk home. The moon was dancing on the tops of the trees and providing enough light to navigate the road by, and the slight breeze brought up a chill. Rosetta stayed far enough behind to not attract attention from anything but the occasional stray dog, and the woman walked ahead unknowing.

Near the spot where Rosetta materialized that morning, the woman paused to look to the sky, and Rosetta swiftly walked up behind her. She put both her hands around the woman's throat and squeezed. The instant her fingers touched the woman's flesh, the woman foreced a scream that was blunted by the sheer force on her throat. She fought for life--kicking Rosetta in the legs, stomping on her feet, using her free hands to scratch furrows across the shoulders and neck of her assailant. In minutes that seemed like hours to Rosetta, the woman finally went limp and fell to the ground. Rosetta crouched over her, poked her a time or two, and marveled to herself how she wasn't exactly sure if the woman was dead or not, but this was as close as she thought she was going to get.

She stood and looked a moment longer, then the cold breeze brought her back to the present. She was cold. That woman wasn't going to need her coat, and she sure as hell wasn't going to need those shoes. She stripped the corpse of what she needed, and walked back down the road to the small farmhouse. She paused at the window for a moment and watched the Dooley man, what did they say his name was? No matter. He was eating a solitary meal at a wooden table. Rosetta went behind the barn, shed the coat and shoes, retrieved her transmitter, and went home.