We both climb into Jessica's car - I can already smell the fries, and glance back: Sure enough, a crumpled Burger Queen bag is back there. I shake my head as I buckle up, trying to figure out how to get the chest strap across me… I am much shorter than it expects, and my chest much larger. I end up just putting the chest strap behind my back. I'm immortal, it pretty much takes anti-tank weaponry to seriously hurt me now, and I have my own overinflated front impact milk bags. I should be fine.

"So… basic who, what, where, and why?"

Jessica chuckles, "We're meeting Sid, a local lowlife who feeds me information regularly. Doesn't always have something I can actually use, but his intel always seems to be spot on."

She continues as she drives, "He never tells me what he has for me over the phone, but he often calls me after I put out sketches and stuff, which I did for your rapist recently."

"That covers who what and why well enough. The where?"

The detective sighs, "The place we're meeting is a strip club called The Cuddly Cats' Corner.  We meet in a booth, I pay him for his last info, he gives me the new info. In that order.  Payment is generally a bit of time with me renting the VIP room. The dancers here are very handsy, but I've yet to see them cross the line. They tend to come really close, though."

I pause, "Do they know you're a cop?"

"Yeah. I use my badge to avoid the cover charge. I don't know why vice hasn't sent an undercover agent in there and shut the place down. If they come that close while they know I'm watching, how far do they go when they don't think anyone is?"

I consider that while I do my 3rd level paperwork. I'll really need to get some supplies soon. I have a few different really good tricks that depend on me making stuff. I mean, who doesn't want a ring of three wishes that works on a daily basis, and another that can do the limited variety at will? I know I do. Especially as the second will be able to make temporary copies of herself.  Of course, to pull it off, I need about ten or fifteen tons of salt and three or four months to work. But still, that's going to run maybe a grand or two. And I have no money. Or do I?

As we pull into the place, I ask Jessica, "Any chance I could get my old phone and computer? I can't show up at my apartment like this, obviously."

"Your phone and wallet are in evidence… If it's your old ID in your wallet," I nod at this, "Then I could probably arrange a search warrant of your apartment pretty easily. If James and I serve it together, yeah, that'd work, as long as you don't need too long.  What are you after?"

"I was hoping to get my savings."

"No can do. It'd look like we drained your accounts."

Hmm. Well…

"Can I use my computer to place an order of salt, at least? I have a lot of plans that need a lot. A new phone would also be ideal."

"That could work, as long as it doesn't tie into us too closely. I know a few empty buildings nearby where you could take delivery… assuming you have a way to cart it all.'

"I do, yes," Mythic Archmage Path, Sanctum.  A portable mansion, although I have it set up with four of the twenty foot cube blocks as a 3200 square foot two story house and the other 32  as a giant warehouse around it. I'm used to an apartment, so for me that's huge already. It even comes with all the mundane furniture, tools, and walls I want, so it's also wired for data, power, water, and sewer, although I'm going to need hookups through the door for some of those.  I'm far from homeless, even if I don't have any land, "That will do, then. Thank you. Please set it up when you can."

We park in a busy lot for a strip mall, and head to a storefront that has all the windows blocked by murals which features cartoon women with cat ears and tails wearing barely anything while serving drinks, with another onstage topless… but her chest isn't towards the 'camera'. The sign above the place has the name.

There's no line to the door. We walk up, and just inside a mountain of muscle of a dark-skinned bald man in a tight black shirt that says "BOUNCER" in stretched-out letters turns to us and reflexively says, "ID and cover?" He pauses, "Oh. Hi detective. I'm still supposed to…" Jessica flashes her badge, and the man takes a moment to read it. Out loud. Including the badge number.

It's about this time I spot the flesh toned microphone by his mouth, and an earpiece as well. He's wired for sound. Which means there's probably someone listening in and giving him instructions.  And given his reading speed, this guy clearly needs it: He seems about as thick as two planks nailed together. He's probably really good at throwing people out, though.

He lets Jessica through when he's finally done reading, but steps in front of me, and does his routine: "ID and cover?"

That makes me pause. I don't have either. Jessica comes to my rescue, "Civilian consultant, she's with me."

Muscle Mountain over there pauses like he's listening to someone, then steps aside, and actually bows. I was not expecting that. And he didn't relay what Jessica said, which means…

I look, and sure enough, now that I'm paying attention, I notice the glint of a lens in each sprinkler head of the fire suppression system. They are very well hidden, but I have a very high Perception bonus now. They're in every one I can see, and the lighting fixtures seem to have them as well.  Which is interesting, considering all of the no audio/video recording signs.

The pattern continues as we go further in; I find myself thinking that this place has more cameras than a casino as Jessica leads me to a booth in the back, where a greasy little slightly balding man is waiting, the fat of his body stretching his Hawaiian t-shirt. His pants bulge the instant he spots me. Great. I don't need to be able to read minds to know what he's going to ask.

"Ah, detective," Sid greets, his eyes glued to my chest, "with the eighth wonder of the world in tow… also the ninth, tenth, and eleventh. Possibly the twelfth as well, if she turns around."

Seriously, there are women with their tops off shaking their double d's not fifteen feet away. Why can't you creep on the ones that signed up for the job? … oh, right. I have an inhumanly high Charisma score. Which does double duty as attractiveness. So I'm a sleazeball magnet. Great. I am going to need to punish him. What would fit the crime…

Jessica takes the lead as agreed, and I focus on Sid.

"So… my info legit on that case last month?"

Jessica sighs, "Yes, we found the perp right where you said, along with the pieces the coroner didn't find where he'd dumped the bodies."

He nods slightly, and I get a notice in the corner of my vision, which I read, mentally filing the information away for later.

"Well then, as you caught the no good murderous scumbag… I want something slightly different tonight, and for once, it won't cost you…"

Jessica can see where his eyes are glued. "She's not …"

I grin wickedly, a plan forming in my head, and I interrupt, "He wants me to dance for him. I think I'm OK with that, if we can close the curtains.  And no touching, ever."

"You’re not licensed…" starts Jessica.

"Only matters if she's getting money for it," injects Sid.

I smile at Jessica, "It's OK, I got this. But I might suggest looking away."

"Seems I'm outvoted, then," Jessica shakes her head, and sighs.

Consent enough, so I close the curtains on the booth - yes, of course it has them. I clear off some space on the table, grabbing two napkins when I do. As I begin the dance, I toss the first up, and it 'coincidentally' hangs on the sprinkler head in the ceiling.  With the second, I do a spin, slowly scanning to make sure there aren't any unexpected cameras, and seeing none, I toss the second in the air as well; it lands on the light in the room, and that camera is then out of commission as well. While doing so, I add a Divine Insight spell to myself.

I then dance. I cast Songbird for a small bonus from musical accompaniment, use Divine Providence on the roll, and mythic Display of Charisma. While I don't have any ranks in Perform, the full combination gives me a check result of sixty two.

But that needs context. A ten is your basic routine street performance. A fifteen, your basic garage band. At twenty, you're getting into professional performances, and at twenty-five you're the kind of guy the nobility would pay to see.  The listed scale stops at thirty, where nobility will cross the country to see you, and powerful beings from other planes will eventually visit.  And I more than double that.

It's still just a dance. I twirl, undress slowly, tease him with my four girls, shake my rear, and do basically everything one expects of a private dance at a strip joint.  I also milk myself a little, and fountain for him.  But the dance is more perfect than anything he has ever seen, or will ever see again. I am refined lust in that moment, and the sight, sound, and smell gets him to cream his pants three times, contact free, before I'm done with him.  Jessica only goes off once, but she wasn't my target, and was choosing to look elsewhere.  For Sid, I am perfection, the measuring rod against which all other beauty will compare, and forever fall woefully short.  He'll never enjoy a woman's body, ever again. His lust is now for me alone, forever.

Sid and Jessica are panting as I cover up. The room reeks of desire, and I ask Sid, "Payment enough?"

"And more," he seems to be pretty dazed.

As both Jessica and Sid seem to be basking, I ask, "So, the information….?"

"Right… right…" Sid is really off balance, and hands Jessica an index card with a handwritten address, "Your perp's been hiding out here." There’s a sad look in his eyes, that doesn't make the rest of his face at all.

Again I get a notice from my Sense Motive skill, which I read, and file away for when there aren't a dozen cameras with full audio in as many yards.

Jessica says, "Thanks Sid, see you next time," and leads me back to her car.