She hung the overalls up on the rack and went to the office. Spider was already sitting at the desk, fiddling with the parts of a disassembled handgun. "I thought we were out of the gun-running business." said Miriam as she signed out. "Of course we are, sweetheart," Spider replied without looking up from his work, "you remember the ATF screwing us at the bar, right?" "I was there, remember?" said Miriam, flinching at the unwelcome memory. "Shit, I'm sorry," said Spider apologetically, getting up to face Miriam, "I didn't mean to make you go through all that again." "It's ok, Spider, I'm over it," Miriam lied. The truth was she could barely stand being reminded of it, even after four years. Every detail was still fresh, from her unfaithful, honey-trap coupling with Brad that night in the motel, to the sight of that same Brad, clad in ATF garb and holding a smoking shotgun, standing over the corpse of her boyfriend--the now deceased leader of the Speeding Seraphim.
