FBI Warning: Well, it's been fun, guys. And apparently I've run out of things to warn you about. Don't let this happen to you! Keep an emergency list of warnings around you at all time. You have been cautioned.

Normally Roxanne hadn't been allowed to go for more than one or two weeks without Mentedor showing up and causing havoc at her bar. Now it had been over a month and she hadn't seen heads nor tails of him. Which surprised her. The way they left things had no sense of finality to it. He's dropped her off at her house and left rather abruptly thereafter. She figured he'd return to her workplace soon enough to play his self-imposed role of making her life difficult. But he hadn't. And as a result, things were going more smoothly than they had in years. The saloon had been rebuilt. She'd paid off all of her debts and even had enough money left over to buy some new chairs for her bedroom at home. Customers had returned in full force. It was exactly what she had wanted.

The boredom threatened to overwhelm her. She found herself constantly distracted, marveling at just how intolerably monotonous her life had become. She frequently thought back to her abduction and often wondered what Mentedor was up to nowadays. She never mentioned him, but whenever a patron would say his name, she'd discretely strain to hear what information they had to relate. Mentedor robbed a casino. Mentedor set fire to an abandoned warehouse. Mentedor painted the exterior of the local prison blue. And not once had he been caught.

It appeared that ever since he'd stopped returning to his designated home base at her saloon, he'd been much harder to catch. Wayne didn't know where to find him anymore and his general ability to allude the law when he wanted to was actually quite impressive. It seemed that he and Roxanne were both more successful without the other person in their lives. Clearly, this was the way things should be.

Scooter had remained with Roxanne and she had come to cherish the creature. It had been over a decade since she'd had any sort of a pet and now she wondered how she ever managed to live without the companionship. She loved the way it bowged happily when she approached it and how it nuzzled her gently with it metal face. Shining its exterior had become one of her favorite pastimes, and Scooter seemed to love the attention. The horse was also wonderfully convenient when it came to transportation. She'd gotten more than a few weird looks while riding it, but nobody had ever actually commented on the being's odd appearance.

It seemed strange to Roxanne that in spite of all of the success her saloon had been having recently, caring Scooter seemed to be the one thing that made her feel truly happy anymore. The rest of the time she felt...not sad, but strangely empty. She'd get over it, though. She just needed a bit of time.

Sunday was Roxanne's day off and her house was long overdue for a good cleaning. She was sweeping the floor when a moth flew in front of her face. She jerked her head back, swatting at it with one hand and it fluttered over to the coffee table. Roxanne approached slowly, brandishing her broom as a weapon. She smacked the bristles down on the table, hard, but the moth managed to fly out of the way just in time, fluttering over to the wood stove. She approached it with a bit less patience this time, swinging the broom at it, only to hit the kettle which fell to the ground and spilled water over the floor as the moth flew back toward the coffee table. Roxanne let out a frustrated grunt and rushed back toward the middle of the room, looking around for the bug and finding it nowhere. Where had it gone? She put down the broom and started tossing the pillows off the couch hoping that she'd find it hiding in there. "Come on out, you little pest," she muttered. Her efforts proved fruitless and, in frustration, she pushed the entire couch over. She sighed and her eyes wandered toward the ceiling to see that the moth had retreated up there. Okay, this meant business. She went up to her room to retrieve on of her chairs.

The duel between woman and moth went on for a couple more minutes before Roxanne heard a knock on her door. That was odd. She never got company. She made her way through the rubble that was left in the wake of her battle, wondering who on Earth it could be.

When she opened the door she was surprised to see a familiar blue face. "Mentedor? What are you...?"

"Um...hey," he said, a little shyly. "Can I come in?"

Roxanne just stared at him, arching an eyebrow. Aside from the shock of finally seeing him again, she was more than a little thrown off by the mysterious absence of his theme music, bad Spanish, and usual confidence. And she didn't even realize he was capable of knocking.

"I promise I'm not here to kidnap you," he added with a slight smile.

Roxanne moved aside to let him in.

Mentedor stepped inside to see the trashed room. "What happened in here?"

"I was cleaning."

"Right..." he said, clearly a little baffled by her technique. It was then that he noticed the moth that was now flying near the center of the room. He smiled, stepped over to it, and cupped his hands around it. Then he returned to the doorway and released it outside, allowing it to flutter away, then closed the door behind it.

Roxanne had moved back to the couch and was attempting to push it back up into its proper position. "So I hear you've..." She grunted, having trouble lifting the piece of furniture. Mentedor walked up next to her and helped push the couch upright. "Thanks." She dusted her hands together, then walked over to one of the cushions that had been scattered on the floor and picked it up. "So I hear you've been making the rounds lately." She placed it back on the couch and went to pick up another.

"Indeed!" said Mentedor pleasantly, picking up a cushion near him. "Mount and I have been quite busy. Terrorizing the county really is a full-time job." He put it on the couch and reached for another. The two of them continued to work as they talked.

"How is Mount?"
"Oh, Mount is doing as well as ever, fantastic fish that he is. And Scooter?"

"Scooter's good. Scooter's..." she smiled, "...yeah. Nice to have around."

"I see. And how has life been treating you?"

"Oh, you know. Life is...life." Roxanne replaced the last cushion on the couch and took a seat, finally looking back to Mentedor, who was tending to an overturned chair. "So, uh...what are you doing here anyway?"

Mentedor set the chair up and took a seat. "I came here to tell you something. And to ask you something."

"Well that sounds vague and slightly dire. Is everything okay?"

"Yes, everything's fine, it's just...I, uh..." He looked down at his hands that were folded before him and paused for a moment. "I've missed you." He waited a moment longer and when he didn't hear Roxanne say anything, he continued. "I'll admit there have been times when I've been tempted to come here and kidnap you again." He smirked at himself. "I believe I'd be happier having you near me and knowing you hate me, than being apart from you and knowing you don't. But...as it turns out, not everything is about what I want."

Roxanne was a little thrown by his confession, which she found simultaneously disconcerting and oddly sweet.

"Anyways," he continued, "I've decided to leave Metro County."

This came as a legitimate shock. Mentedor had been wreaking minor havoc in Metro County for years, and now his hijinks seemed to be more successful than ever. "Why? Did something happen?"

"No, nothing happened," he said, looking up at her. "But there are only so many places in the county one can rob and vandalize, and frankly I've gotten rather curious as to what else is out there. That and there's...nothing really keeping me here anymore."

"I see." She tried to hide the twinge of sadness those words made her feel.

"I've given it a lot of thought and...I..." He cleared his throat. "Roxanne, I think you should consider coming with me."

And there it was. Roxanne sighed. "Mentedor..."

"I know, I know, just... hear me out."

She waited.

"Look, all this time I've been using my evil for evil. But...over the past month it occurred to me. What if I used my evil...for good?" He was brightening at his own words, displaying the familiar enthusiasm he got when describing one of his evil plans.

"I'm not following."

His enthusiasm grew as he spoke. "Okay, so here's my thinking. Up until now I've been choosing my targets – with the exception of you, of course – rather indiscriminately. But do you recall what you told me during your drunken rant last month? You claimed that there are people out protected by the law who are doing far more damage than I. So, what if you and I stepped in where the law failed? What if we targeted the very people who build their empires on the sweat and tears or those too weak to defend themselves? Then we could take those ill-gotten gains and put them toward...oh, I don't know. Feeding the poor or funding libraries or some other such nonsense of your choosing. I was never in this gig for the money in the first place. Thus you satisfy your illogical need to work in the interest of the greater good, while I employ my brilliant and diabolical schemes to make us the most infamous vigilantes of all time!" He was beginning to overflow with excitement now and jumped up on the table. "Can't you see it? El Mentedor and Roxanne! The most dastardly and philanthropic duo! The Robin Hoods of the frontier! Heroes to the downtrodden and villains to the corrupt establishment! You and I, taking life by the reigns! Excitement! Adventure! Notoriety! What'd'ya say?" He was grinning right into her face now.

"I'd say you're crazy."

He looked stung, but not entirely dissuaded. "Oh, come on. What's so crazy about that?"

"Everything! Mentedor, you're asking me to give up the life I've spent years building for myself. My business, my house. Everything I know and everything I've worked so hard for."

He sighed. "I know. I know, it's not a...trivial thing I'm suggesting. And if you can honestly tell me you're happy with your life the way it is right now... I mean...are you?"

That gave her pause. "Well it's...not...glamorous. But I expect it beats spending the rest of my life as a fugitive."

"Oh, being an outlaw is far more entertaining than you give it credit for," he said cheerfully. "I assure you, if you gave it a try, you'd grow to love it!"

"Uh-huh. And what if I wake up one morning and decide I don't love it? I can't exactly just waltz back here and expect no ramifications."

"Then you don't come back here. We pull last heist, you take the money, and retire comfortably in Mexico."

"Mentedor, that's...that's insane. Your whole idea is just crazy!"

"You keep saying that! But, honestly, what's so crazy about this? You get to have fun while fighting for a cause you truly believe in! What could be better than that?"

"Things...they just don't work that way, okay? And besides, it's not exactly like you and I have a history of getting along. We'd probably end up fighting each other just as much as we fight whatever enemies we make."

Mentedor paused. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked a little embarrassed. "You know, I don't mind fighting with you so much..."

Roxanne looked down and let an amused breath out of her nose. The truth was, she rarely felt more alive than when she was quarreling with Mentedor about something or other.

"Roxanne..." said Mentedor. She looked back up at him. "If you really..." He sighed. "If you really don't like me at all, I understand. And I'll go, I just... If the only reason your hesitating is because this plan doesn't adhere to the narrow borders of acceptable societal conventions, I would strongly urge you to at least consider the possibility of..."

"There's something else," she interrupted. He watched her, curious what she had to say. "You have feelings for me."

Mentedor suddenly looked ashamed and began avoiding her gaze. "Why...why should that matter?"

"Don't you think that could make traveling together a little awkward?"

"No? I mean...I wouldn't ever...expect anything of you. I know you'd never feel...that way. About me. And that's fine. This...what I'm proposing to you is a business arrangement. Nothing more."

Roxanne sighed. "Even so. There's so much wrong with this, it's... Mentedor, this can't work. I'm sorry." Her apology was sincere.

Mentedor continued to stand on the table, shoulders slumped, still not meeting her eyes. He looked defeated. Finally he forced a bit of a smile onto his sad face and said, "I understand. I suppose we must all follow our own paths and if this isn't yours..." He stepped down off the table and turned to look at her. "I should go. Thank you for hearing me out."

She looked up at him, sadly. Despite everything he'd put her through, she didn't want him to leave.

He hesitated for a moment, then stepped over to her and took her chin gently in his hand. She could feel her face flushing as he leaned in. Then he kissed her gently on the cheek. "Farewell, seh-nor-it-a," he said quietly. He let his hand fall away and without giving her another look, he turned and began to walk away. He made his way out the door, closing it quietly behind him. And then Roxanne was alone.

She sat there on the couch in almost a daze until she heard the sound of hooves galloping away. She walked over to the window and spotted Mentedor riding Mount off across the desert and watched them become smaller and smaller, until her only friend disappeared over the horizon. Roxanne realized that, in all likeliness, she'd never see him again. The thought made her throat tight and irritated her eyes. She decided to busy herself with cleaning the mess she'd made trying to kill the moth.

Mentedor had been different in so many ways. People all across Metro County had gazed in awe at his blue skin, his giant head, and his odd attire. They'd whispered of his legend and cowered before his dramatic presentation. But to Roxanne, these were the least of what made him unique. Listening to people's thoughts and feelings had always been a part of her job. Over the years she'd heard countless life stories and attitudes about life. And yet Mentedor's motivations, his dreams, his ideals, and his idiocy...all of these things seemed unique to only him. And while he drove her nuts sometimes, she'd grown to put up with him. No, more than that. She liked him. Even if she didn't agree with most of what he did or thought. She couldn't help but appreciate his spirit.

And she liked being around him, at least when he wasn't manhandling her bound and gagged body. It was honestly enjoyable talking to him when he dropped his pretension. And the one time the two of them had actually worked together to help that old man, she'd felt a satisfaction she hadn't experienced since the early days at the saloon. Or possibly ever. Knowing that she had not only succeeded in a difficult endeavor, but actually done some real good was a remarkable high. The possibility of death looming around the corner was not her favorite thing in the world, but she couldn't deny that it was all fairly exciting.

She hadn't really taken his proposal all that seriously. Although it did have a certain strange logic to it. Yeah, she'd have had fun if she'd gone with him. She'd have been able to once again feel that rush of excitement, that gratification of knowing she was helping others, and that aggravating fondness of being around her strange blue friend. But she was far too practical and levelheaded to give the idea any sort of real consideration. Abandoning her life to run off and become a vigilante? She'd have to be as crazy as he was.

Sure, she was in a bit of a rut now. She could admit that to herself. But she'd get over it. Her saloon had already been flourishing since Mentedor stopped visiting. And now that he was leaving the county, all the potential customers who avoided her business due to fear that he might show up might finally give the bar a chance. She'd be raking in the money soon enough. Maybe she could build a new wing to the saloon. Or start a chain. The possibilities were endless. And that was all pretty exciting, right? Not exploring-the-country-and-pulling-benevolent-heists exciting but still...kind of exciting. Sort of.

She was lonely now, yes, but that wouldn't last forever. There might not be other Mentedors, but there were plenty of nice people who she could probably grow to like if she gave them the chance. Maybe she'd even meet a nice man and settle down. Maybe even start a family. That could be good. Yeah. Just live a nice, normal...

Oh, God. What had she done?

Roxanne bolted out the door and leapt onto Scooter. She grabbed the reigns, cried out, "Hyah!" and took off as fast as she could in the direction she'd seen Mentedor ride off in. She leaned forward as her cyborg horse galloped across the desert, keeping her eyes open for any trace of her former companions.

She pulled to a stop once she reached the edge of the dune she'd see the two disappear over. Narrowing her eyes, she looked out across the vast expanse below. A figure was riding away in the distance. Roxanne snapped Scooter's reigns and began riding down the hill. She didn't know how long it would take to catch up with them or if she might lose them in the process. "Mentedor!" she called out. He kept riding, not seeming to hear her.

She rode for a little bit longer, closing the space between them a little before calling his name out again. This time he seemed to hear her, slowing Mount to a halt and looking back toward the approaching woman.

At last she reached him and pulled to a stop. He was looking at her with sincere confusion.

"Roxanne?" he asked.

"Hey," said Roxanne with a bit of a smile. "So, uh...where are we going first?"