The monthly reports finished running and Gloria emailed them off to her superiors.  The data would please them but show nothing unusual.  She was anxious and wanted to get out of the lab as soon as she could, but she couldn't leave early or do anything out of the ordinary.  Gloria never left early.  She never slacked, she never took a day off.  She smiled to herself, it was time for a change.  The screen on the computer became unusually colorful and active as she played a game on the Internet.  She felt deliciously wicked and slothful. 

When she had wasted most of the afternoon, Gloria pulled her briefcase and a small cage out from under the desk and began her most important task of the day.  She removed 5110 from the large cage and placed the rat in  a small bordered area.  With a sure hand she carefully pried the metal ID band off the rat's hind leg.  She then placed 5110 in another small cage on the desk.

She opened the other cage, the one she had brought with her, and removed the rat she had purchased at the pet store in the mall.  This rat was skittish and unused to handling and it took a long time to get the metal ID band clamped on its leg,  She was careful and kind, fearing to injure the animal but her secure and gentle touch eventually soothed the animal's fears to the extent she was able to attach the band to its leg and release it into the cage with the rest of the rats.  This was a risky move, she knew that .  It could skew the data but she also had realized that having animals die repeatedly when she was alone in the lab might eventually raise suspicion.  Her excusing of the rat from tests all week and reporting illness would be sufficient to cover any changes in its behaviour and raise less suspicion than its disappearance.

Her heart was racing now.  When she took Einstein she was acting on impulse and emotion.  What she was doing now was a calculated and premeditated act.  She gathered up her briefcase and placed the small cage inside it, turned off the lights and stepped out of the lab, her contraband neatly hidden.

Willoughby had struggled throughout the day with the etch-a-sketch, turning the knobs, making the lines over and over then flipping it over on his makeshift catapult.  A certain excitement gripped him as he worked to perfect the letters he needed to write his message to Gloria.   Over and over he worked to create the lines that would break down the barrier between them.

He knew that he had to choose a message that she couldn't  put down to random patterns that just seemed to make sense.  She had to know and understand immediately that he was communicating.  He needed her to see that he understood what he had written and be willing to teach him more.  There was something he needed her to do for him, something very important.

Only when he had his message exactly right did Willoughby allow himself one quick nap.  He rolled himself up snugly and nestled into the corner of the afghan that hung from the chair.  Exhaustion caused him to fall quickly into a deep sleep.

He slept so deeply, he didn't hear Gloria's keys at the door.  The first sound he heard was the heavy "thud" of the apartment door slamming behind her.  He was sleepy and disoriented.  She was talking to him. He blinked his eyes to clear the sleep from them and finally managed to focus on her.

"Einstein, I am going to need your help. We have a new house-guest and since you are the expert on apartment living for rodents, I am going to expect you to show our guest around and explain things".

Willoughby's eyes grew wide as he watched her reach into her briefcase and pull out a small cage with one lone rat in it. She set it down on the floor in front of him.  An exclamation of surprise escaped him.

"Rosalind!" His heart jumped at the sight in front of him.

"Willoughby... oh, we thought you were dead,  Thank goodness you are still alive." Rosalind said. "Where are we?"

There was much to explain, too much almost.  Willoughby was in such a state of happiness and shock at seeing Rosalind here,  he didn't notice Gloria picking up the etch-a-sketch and starting to shake as had become routine.  He always scribbled all over the screen to hide his work and she hadn't noticed that tonight the screen held only one neatly drawn image.

Too late his eye caught a flash of red and he looked in horror as Gloria picked up the etch-a-sketch, shook it clear and put it back down again.  He ran to it and saw his brilliantly executed pattern language gone.  All that work erased in a second. Gloria did not see the carefully etched "T_H_A_N_K __Y_O_U".

 Willoughby looked back at Rosalind, who by some miracle was now here with him. His joy at seeing her was ten times greater than his disappointment.  Ah well, he thought, there was time to rewrite the message.  Rosalind could help him.  He went to her and poked his nose through the bars in the cage that held her.  She rubbed her nose against his and their whiskers touched.  "Oh Willoughby", she sighed.  "I'm so glad you're alive."

Yes, Willoughby thought, I will rewrite the message. He must. He reveled in the scent of Rosalind, the only thing he had missed about the lab.  Now he had more reason than ever to thank his rescuer.