**
She opens the door. She climbs in. She gestures, and he climbs over her into the other seat. The bear gets in the front, buckles up, and drives.
“Femme Fatale Bear,” she says.
“Ann.”
“He’s mine,” the bear clarifies. “My sprite. Now. I won’t let anyone else have him.”
Ann laughs. “Our contest, Bear, is for another time, and another place.”
The bear slams a foot down on the accelerator and the car screeches away.
They are delayed, of course, by random monsters; yet they will be on time.