Bullied behind the 8-ball by a broad with a bean-shooter. And not just any broad, the same dish in distress this dick delivered from gettin' dipped by that Derrick, Demos. Now she wants to drill some daylight into yours truly and I just remembered...I forgot my sunblock.


Getting gashouse with her gams, Stiletto to my pump, this Jane had me all wrong, but would she listen or burn powder into my conk?


Suddenly, a blinding bright flash of lightning and this gumshoe gums up the girlie's gig by givin' her the gate with a twist of her getaway stick and a KICK OUT!


The gat goes south right into my waiting mitts and I hop up with the piece pointed.


Noir Atty sits awaiting the big one...


...but as I meet her tormented gaze...I realize I have no intention of squeezing.









Atty ain't evil... she's just a dame who saw more than her fair share 'a heartbreak and deceit. Came here lookin' for the American Dream but all she's seen are the American Schemes. She'd been flim-flammed. Swindled. Got dizzy with the wrong Donalds. Played like a mark and left lookin' to leave me lousy with lead.


Thinkin' I was the next to play, she pulled to make me fold.


And who could blame her?


Single or not, I'm an hombre with a reputation.


And Atara Themis is a looker. To the universe a Greek Goddess.







What man in his right mind could say no to returning home to her? A kiss to soothe the wounds.







A touch to soothe the soul.







But this is not my goal and this is not a game.


Helping Noir Atty to her feet. Is that all you think you are Atty? A pump? A nail? A screw? You think I'm here to book you on the next long con to crushtown? Look, don't get me wrong; any Tom, Dick or Harry would be lucky to have you and any person who gave you up or lost you is a sap to say the least...but I ain't here for pitchin' woo.


I gotcha your shit back because I was in the right place at the right time and it was the right thing to do. And ya need no palooka to put you back up top, I never said you can't do it on your own, Atara. This ain't about a game.


It's about bein' a good man. A good person. A White Knight.


It's about support, somethin' we can all use. Especially when it seems so many are against us. Support. We ain't all sick 'a your cooin' Dove...and Atara Themis ain't finished. Far fuckin' from it.


You've got my support, Atty.


You may not need it but you've got it...if you want it.


Jimmy doesn't leave. He holds her pistol out to her, returning it with, as is the proper etiquette, barrel faced away...vaguely in his direction to be precise.


Trusting.


Believing.


In Atara Themis.


...Atty.