It had been a long week. 168 hours spent away from home. 141 of those hours spent awake. The other 26 hours spent scouting and information gathering and all with one hour's worth of sleep. It was an understatement that he was dead on his feet. He felt like hell chewed him up and spat him back out because he tasted foul. Well, it wasn't like he thought he had a place in hell or anything. Or anywhere really. He didn't care. He either succeeded and lived or failed and died. There was never a place for him, no matter the outcome. He dragged himself into a convenience store despite the urge to just go home and sleep. Bread, milk, coffee, flour . . . Oh, yeah, cereal. Noodles seem good too. Potatoes, onions, tomatoes . . . Some fresh cut meat and fish . . . And last but not least, sauce. he mused as he pulled the items into his cart, hunching over the handle as he walked. What on earth . . .? He stared confused. Confused at this cute little thing jumping up and down, trying to reach the top shelf. A cute, short woman. Well, at least to him. A tired smile pulled at his lips as he feigned perusing the shelves all the while watching her struggle for a little longer. Taking pity on her, at last, he wheeled his cart over next to hers, stepping up behind her and reaching for the bottle of sauce. Good taste, he thought, handing it to her. "This is the one, right?" he asked, looking down at her.