Lorraine threw open her door. Sounds of a dinner party in progress filtered around them, and she smiled. "Michael!"

He nodded. "Lorraine. Are you ... rested up from your foray into the supernatural?"

"My ...? Oh, you mean Section's ghost? Yes, thank you. And you?"

"Yes." He stood there waiting, and Lorraine bit her lip.

"What -- I mean -- Michael, this isn't a good time ..."

"I'm sorry, Lorraine," Michael said, sounding truly repentant. "But the information you gave us wasn't enough. We must have more." His eyes traveled down her, and he realized, with a pang of disappointment, she was wearing normal shoes and not the bunny slippers he so adored. He wondered if there was laundry on the sofa, or if that, too, was put away. He stifled a sad sigh, and asked, "May I come in?"

"Well ... of course, you can," Lorraine said, recovering from her initial shock. "But ... I've invited some people over ... we're having an important meeting and a going-away party..."

"I know," Michael replied, eyes warm and apologetic. "For Holly. That's why I came."

Lorraine twisted her hands nervously. She knew this dinner party hadn't been a good idea, but Norma and Zzoomama insisted. Not only did they have to decide what to do about Enjoue', but Lorraine's spirits were rather low, on account of Holly leaving and Ron's trip to China -- for which Lorraine still blamed herself. Well, bad things happened in threes, Lorraine thought.

Until the interruption, the dinner party was going great. Even Red came, leaving the screaming bundle of joy at home. Lorraine remembered to put a legal pad next to Nikita507's plate; last time, she defaced Lorraine's best tablecloth with her scribblings.

Everyone looked up as they entered, and the talking ceased. No one was missing: Susan sat at the head of the table and Holly at the foot, and in between were sandwiched Norma, Lady, Hopposai and Ranma, Catsma, ‘chelle, T'nT, Kylie, Caroline, JusGirl, Taichi, Scoo, Ursula (looking very chic in black), Kylie, Sis, Jane, Tina, Red, Kate and Nikita507.

Sitting quietly on any flat surface and littering the floor were others, and Michael raised his eyebrows.

"They're the lurkers," Lorraine said, dismissing them with a wave of her hand. "Don't mind them. They're just a tad shy."

Michael gave them a stern look, then ran his eyes over the people at the table. Lorraine pulled out an empty chair, and Michael, after a thank-you smile, sat. After some initial confusion, people began passing food down. Michael looked from the cheesy poofs to the fish crackers to the leg of lamb, and asked, "Is there a theme?"

"No," Lorraine admitted. "Everyone brought her or his favorite thinking food, so nothing much matches."

"Well, it looks wonderful," Michael commented.

"And it's all virtual," she said brightly. "No calories." She licked her lips nervously and asked, "Michael, why are you really here?"

"It's time to get a few things straight," he said seriously, popping a cheesy poof and looking around the table.

Oh, no, Lorraine thought. She should've confiscated his gun at the door. She could see the headlines now: Dinner Party Interrupted By Gunfire. Or, Farewell Party Turns Deadly. Poor Ron, she thought, miserably. Perhaps I should have worn less flannel and more lace.

Lorraine couldn't be sure, but she thought she heard Nikita507 mutter, "This is good ... this is good ... I can use this ..." Good grief, Lorraine thought. She never stops! "First of all, on behalf of Section, I just want to say ... we appreciate the job all of you are doing on the Round Robin story boards. You are truly dedicated. We're all disappointed in the LFN script writers. We had such high hopes for them this season. But the thought of you all working your fingers to nubs keeps us going. We only hope that perhaps, someday ... the LFN script writers will give us the humor, texture, emotions and backgrounds that you have been so kind to provide. However ... there are a few things we need to clear up," Michael sighed.

"I'll start first with Holly. You are responsible, are you not, for the message boards in the first place?"

"Yes," Holly whispered, frightened.

"And how long have you kept them going?"

Tears flooded Holly's eyes. "A long time," she choked out.

Lorraine -- indeed, the entire table -- cringed, ready for the gunfire, and Holly shivered.

Michael rose and stood before Holly, a towering angel of death. "Then you understand that what I'm about to ask you is very important. Holly," he said quietly, "I need you to tell me where Time Out is."

Red kicked Holly under the table, and Holly shook her head. "No. I won't tell. You can pull out my fingernails. You can shave my head. You can make me wear Nikita507's metal dress ... I won't break!"

Seeing it was hopeless, Michael slowly looked around the table, his eyes pausing at Susan. "Susan."

"Yes?" Susan asked, with fake bravado.

"Will you be taking over the message board?"

"Yes..." Susan admitted. She didn't say anything else, but her eyes automatically shifted to Zzoo, and Michael pounced.

"Zzoo, ma petite chou," he said, pleading. "I've always had a special place in my heart for you. Please, won't you tell me where Time Out is?"

Norma kicked Zzoo hard under the table, and Zzoo whimpered. "N-n-no," she stammered.

"Zzoooooo," he said, soft as silk. She was weakening, he could tell. He came closer to her and tilted her head up; in self-defense, she shut her eyes, but that was a mistake. Michael leaned closer, his breath smelling of virtual Guinness, and whispered, "Please, mes petite haricot verts."

Zzoo drew a shuddering breath. "I ... I ..."

"She can't tell," said Jane softly. "It's a secret. But perhaps ... we might ... make a deal."

All eyes turned to Jane, and she shifted uncomfortably. "Well, none of know where Enjoue' is. If Michael could help find her ... after all, Section One is the most covert operation on the planet, surely with his resources he could track her down. Perhaps it would be worth telling him where Time Out is. After all, he's been there. He just doesn't know how to get there."

Ranma shook her head. "I don't know."

"If we could just find Enjoue'...." Norma trailed off. "I think ... perhaps .... Jane may be right. Of course, Michael would have to promise to not tell."

"On my honor," Michael said quickly.

"Yeah, like that means anything," Hopposai muttered, and Ranma elbowed him.

"It should be Zzoo's decision," proposed JusGirl. "After all, she is in charge of Time Out now."

Zzoo tilted her head, considering her options. "Bring back Enjoue'," she decided. "And maybe we'll talk." Quickly, she added, "If you touch a hair of her head, I'll never let you leave Time Out."

Michael nodded. "Had I only known she was missing ... how long has she been gone?"

"Weeks," said Kate, quietly. "We've all been worried."

Michael thought. "I'll need some rope, Lorraine," he said finally. "And a doggie bag, if it isn't any trouble. I want to get started on this as soon as possible."

"Of course," Lorraine said quickly. Lady began putting together a plate for Michael, and Lorraine went to the garage and returned with gray clothesline.

"This is all I have," Lorraine said, somewhat embarrassed, but Michael curled it up professionally and smiled.

"It will do. I'll be back as soon as I can. Don't worry." He stepped over the lurkers, then turned back to the table. "Please don't stop writing."

Then he was gone.

Scoo sighed. "What a dreamboat. Nikita507, hand me some paper. I feel a poem coming on."

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