"Pick a Card."

She walks into the bar, hips swaying, the air around her tasting ever so slightly of alcohol and lovemaking. She tilts her head to the side and leans over the counter. Dark laughter breaks through the lively chatter behind her. "Well, if it isn't the clockwork babydoll herself. Hands in the air, Sawyer."

She steadies her heart. It's only the police. No worries. She drapes an easy smile across her lips and opens her arms. "Captain Randall Tawnley, ladies and gentlemen! Randall! My love! You've found me! Drat!"

The police captain snorts and drains his cup. Wiping his lips on a sleeve, he waves an arm at Josephine. "Arrest her."

"Not this time, boys," Jo giggles, dancing loops around the slightly drunken officers. She winds ribbons as she moves, hopelessly entangling them in the mess of rickrack and lace. There's a click. God, he's drawing his piece. She panics, and throws down some emergency steam poppers. A blinding puff of smoke.

"What the fuck!? Where'd she bloody go?"

Soft giggles tinkle through the air.

The captain chokes, furiously clawing at the air as if to bat the smoke away from his face. "Go! Find her! I don't care if you have to tear London up one cobblestone at a time!" The pub empties slowly over the course of the evening. She remains alert, waiting. Finally, the Captain is the last one left. The barkeep, a pudgy old man whom Josephine knew as a child, is left to wipe down the counter. His toothless mouth is forever shut, the clipped down stump of his rotting tongue forever still. He would be no trouble. The Captain finally sighs and puts a tenner on the counter. Jo waits until the old man has his back turned.

She giggles softly from the rafters. "Pick a card, Captain..."

He turns, gasping slightly for air, in a circle. His reactions are slowed by the effects of the liquor, and she knows that he will be easy to rid herself of. She drops down behind him like a cat. A flash of silver, and her blade is at his neck. Her lips gently brush his ear as she murmurs her last words to the man who has hunted her for so long. He shivers, but not out of fear. "Any card." And so the hunter becomes the hunted. Classic. "Any card at all."