Richard scratched his head with the loaded Glock, as his eye looked over to Vania. "What'cha doin?" he asked.

She peered up from her notebook, "I'm profiling you."

He laughed and blushed, "really? Oh cool!" He pointed the gun at her, "what is that exactly?"

She lifted an eyebrow and sighed, "it means I'm trying to figure out the how's and the whys of the things you do."

He stared at her and blinked, then nervously checked his watch. "Umm…" he began, "look, it's almost time that I go. You done yet?" He scratched his chin with the barrel. "You know, I've got serious things to do." He stared out the window with some annoyance: a peace gathering was building.

"So are you really sure you want to do this?" Vania asked, staring up at him through her hair. "This action doesn't seem to fit in with all that you've told me about yourself."

"Yeah, I know." His eyes met hers. "Hey you wouldn't be interested in doing it before I go?" His face flushed red.

"No," her eyes fixed on his lips, as she scribbled more into her book.

He looked at her a bit longer, hoping, but quickly became distracted by the sounds outside. "Dammit!" He slammed the butt of the gun into his thigh.

Vania stared up with some shock, "I hope that the safety is on," she said softly, "why a…"

"Of course it is," his words cutting her off midstream. He laughed to himself. His eyes focused on the happenings outside. "Those protesters wouldn't know peace if it shot them in the head." The thought amused him more. "I wish I could today…" his words trailed, "but I have bigger things in mind."

"So when did you disco…" she was quickly interrupted again.

"Have you had the chance to read up on James Sarton? I kept all the clippings from the papers, I think he's been my biggest hero." Richard was beaming.

Vania glared uneasily, "I've read little. The media over-portrays him as something he's not. It fails to note contributing factors to his actions."

"Well I think they've done a super good job. Man, I've been following his story since they first discovered that prostitute in the Tokyo flat last year." Richard stopped and stared at Vania more seriously. "You know, you're fucking hot."

She smiled lightly. "Mr. Byrne, I want to thank you for contacting me. It has always been a dream of mine to study an individual who craved mass mur…"

Again, he interrupted her. "Yeah, yeah, no prob, listen I gotta run. It's time now." He looked at her eyes, "you sure you don't want to do it? Like, you're fucking sexy."

She stared at him blankly.

"What?" he smiled and shook his head. "Time for me to go." He shook her soft cool hands, then spun around on one foot. "You're gonna watch right?" He paused a moment, "I mean from across the street?"

The crowd outside got louder, and many began to scream.

Richard waved his gun in the air to say bye to Vania.

Outside, flash bombs erupted as the streets filled with screaming bodies and a choking fog.

"The problem with you Richard," she began, "is that you were never suited for this act." She stood up and ran a bloody hand through her brown hair. "A good artists never lets an opportunity to create go to waste." She smirked. "By the way," she pulled the knife from the back of his skull, "if you truly admired Jimmy, then you should know that he never used a gun."