There's no such thing as privacy in this world. Everything we do, from web searches and emails to ATM withdrawals and visits to the corner store, is recorded somewhere and saved for posterity.

Even phone calls in the middle of the night aren't immune. The following is a transcript.

SPEAKER 1: Joe's Pizza.

SPEAKER 2: That doesn't work nearly as well at two in the morning.

SPEAKER 1: Can't help it, it's tradition. What do you want?

SPEAKER 2: I'm in.

SPEAKER 1: Really.

[Recording shows a brief exhale, maybe a chuckle.]

SPEAKER 1: Why the change of heart?

SPEAKER 2: Not sure that's any of your business. There's a condition, though.

SPEAKER 1: I don't really remember this being a negotiation. Either the rest of them go to jail or you do. It's that simple.

SPEAKER 2: Then take me down. I'm small potatoes compared to what I can land, and I can guarantee you they'll never let me live to see a grand jury. Your other choice is to hear me out.

SPEAKER 1: Fine. Clock's ticking, though.

SPEAKER 2: She goes free.

[A bark of harsh laughter.]

SPEAKER 1: Are you insane? She's a lunatic – worse than the rest.

SPEAKER 2: I don't remember this being a negotiation. You can burn the rest at the stake. I don't care. But she goes free or the deal is off.

SPEAKER 1: If I agree to this – and that's a big if – then we've got to do this quickly. Couple weeks, tops. No way the high-ups will want it to linger.

SPEAKER 2: I want it in writing – she can't even have her prints taken. When you get that to me, it will be the death warrant for the Order of St. Julian. Until then, don't call me again.

[Call disconnects.]

* * * * *

Alexandra Pierce was on edge as she drove through the industrial park, but an onlooker probably couldn't tell from the bored, passive expression painted across her features, her knuckles to her forehead as she stared listlessly out the window.

The sedan was dark, windows tinted – for all anyone knew, she was just another person en route to another meeting in the office park. Even when the car drew to a halt and a thin man in a dark suit climbed from the vehicle, her expression didn't flicker.

Alex met Mr. Hawke's calm stare as she slid to her feet. ''She's inside,'' Hawke said, lips barely moving.

''Has she made a scene?'' Desade nearly sighed the question.

''Ms. Sanders is due back from her lunch in approximately twenty minutes.''

The Spider slid on overlarge sunglasses. ''Then she'll cause a scene.''

''Very likely.''

Pierce put a little bit of snap in her walk, heels on concrete sidewalk. She turned a green-eyed glare on the security guard seated by the door until the man came up to his feet and tugged open the door. She didn't thank him as she walked past, curling a platinum blond ponytail around one hand as she stepped up to the security desk.

''May I help you, madam?''

Alex set a bag on the countertop. ''Vanessa Griffith. I've an appointment with Mr. Johnson on ten,'' she said, the barest whisper of a British accent under her words. ''You'll need to ring me up.''

The man checked the schedule, nodding as he pressed a button on the underside of his desk. Alex spared him a tiny smile – barely a quirk of the corners of her lips – as she stepped past and into the elevator.

The elevator shuddered slightly as it passed the sixth floor, but Alex pressed the ''8'' button just after the seventh floor. When the chime sounded, Pierce skittered to the side, but nothing came at her. She ducked low as she stepped into the interior of the office, eyes flickering over the phone. Her smile quirked further – it was set to Do Not Disturb. The carpet quieted her steps as she approached the office, and she didn't say anything, just in case.

One never interrupted her partner in the middle of a job; Milwaukee was a hard lesson for that. Alex drew her pearl-handled .45 as she nudged into main office. The chair was turned away from the door, but there was no sign of anyone else. ''Hello?'' She chanced a quiet word into the half-lit room, the afternoon sun drawing long shadows through the blinds. ''Is there anyone here?''

The hand that clasped over Pierce's mouth was only slight surprise, but the leg that not-so-gently kicked hers out from under her was considerably beyond what she'd expected. Alexandra was eased onto the carpet more than pushed, and that was likely what kept the small figure behind her bullet-free.

''Are you nuts?'' By the time the smaller woman had followed through, she had a knee on Pierce's chest. It had been instinct more than anything, but she stayed on top; In their world, it took more than a moment to make sure that the closest person to you really would turn out to be who your eyes first told you. ''A text wouldn't have worked? Jesus, Alex.''

It might have been worth noting that there was a syringe at the ready, floating only two or three inches from the Director's throat in case Amy Campbell's eyes had deceived her. ''Oh, and I should probably explain the cocaine on the desk. I wasn't in here partying with him, so don't get all pissy... just seems like Dan might've been doing a little too much in his free time. I really never would've suspected, but the hard junkies usually hide it best, don't they? It's gonna be unfortunate to hear my agent ODed - so long as they don't find the needle mark in his thigh, of course.''

''I'm here to get you out of here before his secretary shows up, because 'lonely guy overdoses' is easier to sell than some kind of drug-fueled orgy.'' The words were serious Alex's grin flickered onto her lips, one side higher than the other. ''Should I even ask how you got a needle into his thigh?''

''C'mon, you think I'm that gross? I pretended to be in a good enough mood to stand next to his chair while I signed the release for my next drug test.'' Amy winked, sliding her pinning knee onto the carpet without standing, slipping the syringe into a vial in her side pocket. ''God, I hate needles.'' She regarded it with some disgust, but went right back to smiling when she lowered herself inches from the Spider's face. ''I know what you're gonna say, but I was beyond sick of having to hear about my habits every time I came in here, and it's not like anyone outside of that shitty Asian massage parlor he takes his lunches at will miss filth like Mully.''

Alex twisted her hand in the other redhead's hair, pulling back violently as she sat up, lips (and teeth) trailing along the other woman's neck. ''It still makes me tingle when you talk like that, but Elijah's waiting. The Order needs us. There's a change of clothes in my bag.''

Pierce drew back, green contacts unable to hide the passion in her gaze. ''I promise, it's not too slutty.''

''We have to go?'' Amy pouted. ''I hate that idiot secretary and, if I've learned anything from you, it's to tie loose ends.''

Even with disappointment clear across her features, Campbell seemed jovial when she finally stood up from Alex, turning to the desk in the center of the room to sprinkle a little extra white powder. ''Aaaand... done. I think, at least. I kinda choked him with it while he convulsed, so they should find residue in all the right places. I'm not checking the body again, though – he kinda threw up on himself near the end. So like him to make a mess of the only clean opportunity he'd ever been given.''

Pierce slid to her feet, crossing to step behind the shorter woman, arms around her waist. She nuzzled at Amy's ear. ''We should go...''

Amy spun in her lover's arms, dipping her thumbs into the waistband of Alex's pants. ''Come on, it'll be fun...'' She gave Alex puppy dog eyes. ''Like old times before we had orders and missions and rules. When it was just you and I.'' She nipped at Alex's lower lip.

Whatever resolve the Spider held was nearly spent, so much that she barely heard the soft breep-breep from her bag, still where she'd dropped it when Amy got the jump on her. ''Text message,'' she muttered.

Campbell ducked under Alex's arms, padding across the room and digging out the iPhone. '''911, Sanders parking now,''' she read, turning a winning smile on the redhead-gone-blonde. ''Guess I get my way after all.''

Alex closed her eyes briefly. ''How do you want to play it?''

''You're already dressed for Bitte Bitch,'' Amy said, pushing the other woman gently by the shoulders. ''Go Seig Heil her for a minute. I'll be right behind you.''

* * * * *

Valory Sanders sighed briefly as she stepped out of the elevator – then she sighed again at the tall woman with the tight platinum ponytail stalking towards her. The tail snapped with agitation.

''Dieses ist lächerlich! Ich hatte eine Verabredung!'' The woman tapped her on the chest. ''Welches ein bisschen Geschäft ist—''

''Okay, whoa.'' Valory hated it when they got huffy. ''I have no idea what language you're speaking, but I've been gone for lunch, so just... let me get back to my desk, okay?''

''I am... apologizing,'' the woman said, stepping back. ''I have und appointment, if you vill just make heem open...''

Valory crossed to the circular desk, tossing her keys down beside her phone. ''Ridiculous,'' she muttered, taking the phone off away. She tapped the intercom. ''Daniel? Daniel, your three o'clock is here, now is not the time to—''

''Fine, prick! See if I keep delivering when your fatass fuckin' secretary's at lunch. Maybe tomorrow I'll leave it on her desk. Shit, I could waltz in and say 'Hey buddy, here's your dope' when one of your fancy clients is sitting out there—''

The door to the office flew open and shut in the span of a blink, with a very angry woman appearing from inside, shouting back at the man inside. ''Yeah, maybe then you'd think twice about grabbing my ass when I'm saving your sleazy little suit from having to see a real deale—'' She nearly mowed over the taller German woman. ''Move your lanky ass the fuck outta my way before I cause a scene, and tell chubby over there that I know she's getting ready to call security, but maybe she should get the cops to pop in on her boss while he has his after-dinner 'snack' in there. He's 'unavailable', by the way.'' Campbell-as-whoever the hell she was dressed as in that moment looked to the secretary, then back to the similarly disguised blonde. ''Until he gets a glimpse of this one's tits through the blinds, probably.''

''I'm sorry.'' Valory's smile for the German woman was small. ''Perhaps we can reschedule?''

''Nein! Dieses ist meine—my only free time. I fly back to Germany tomorrow. Please...'' She walked towards the door to the agent's office. ''You must...''

Amy Campbell felt awkward in a black wig (it was just more hair than she was used to), snatching the other woman by the arm. ''I'm sorry. You fuckin' deaf? I said the man said he was unavailable, that means—'' Her grin as she shoved her disguised partner was genuinely amused. ''You back the fuck up.''

Campbell's outfit was a little too business professional to pull off the look, but it was all in the sell. She'd popped the collar of the long-sleeved white blouse, wearing it open over her dark tanktop and trusting in the positioning to hide the actual details of her telltale tattoos. Her shoes weren't sneakers, so it was a short heel that she appeared to just barely miss the other woman's toe with as she stepped up to her. ''Mr. Mulholland don't wanna be disturbed.''

''Will you...'' Valory stumbled out of her chair. ''Will you just go? I will call for security if you don't get out of here.''

Amy threw her hands up in the air, stepping back. ''Whatever.'' She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, stomping out of the room.

''Now, Miss...'' Valory tried to coax the potential client back to the desk.

''Missus,'' Pierce corrected crisply, her eyes holding Valory still enough that the other woman didn't see Amy draw a pair of thin eyeglasses from the pocket of her slacks. ''Missus Ava Ehrenberg.''

''Mrs. Ehrenberg,'' Valory's smile would have made Dan Mulholland proud. ''I'm sure we can reschedule you... what time is your flight tomorrow?''

Alex's smile back was thin, but it sufficed. ''Vhat time is available?''

The rest of the conversation was brief and professional.

It was two hours before Valory Sanders discovered Dan Mulholland's corpse, and the police never found the needle mark.

* * * * *

If people could only have one adjective assigned them, the man known simply as ''Mr. Hawke'' would undoubtedly have chosen ''patient.''

His leather-clad hands didn't move from the steering wheel of the car, his dark, predatory gaze sweeping the crowd milling around the courtyard of the office building. He waited for Alexandra to recover Amy without judgment on his face, craggy features partially hidden by the brim of his chauffeur's cap.

He would have waited for hours if he'd had to, ever the attentive driver. Alex's adopted hair color would have made her stand out (the Spider was all about hiding in plain sight), and he waited for either of the girls – either of his girls.

The first one to the car, he hadn't especially noticed until she was tapping on the window, pulling a cell phone from her pocket to check the time. ''Hurry!'' She'd huffed, blouse buttoned to the throat, collar down. Her hair was pinned into a bun by a pen, black to match the frames of her glasses – a stark contrast from the woman she'd just been upstairs in the building half a block away.

Campbell smiled warmly when the door unlocked, slipping onto the leather in the back seat and nodding to the man who regarded her through the rearview mirror with a barely-cocked eyebrow. ''Was it her idea or yours to get eyes on me up there, and how the hell'd you know I was gonna do something today? She's fine, by the way - I managed to recognize her in time not to kill her.''

''You're needed.'' Hawke half-turned in the seat; something about putting his back to this woman made him uncomfortable. ''I know how you get, and Daniel is the last person who...'' He was choosing his words carefully. ''Who knew you before. It stands to reason you'd been waiting for a proper time to close the circle.''

''Yeah, but Al wouldn't let me do chubby up there.'' She was nearly pouting.

''Alexandra stopped you?'' Hawke's brows knit softly. ''Given how much you... excite her imagination of late, I must confess to some surprise.''

''She tells you that shit?''

''She doesn't just tell me things with her words. I think it is quite obvious simply from looking at you two.''

Across the courtyard, the white-haired woman approached, lips curled into a studious scowl.

''I have been asked...'' Elijah's pause caused Campbell's lips to turn down.

''Just fucking say it, Eli.''

''I have been asked if you have noticed anything unusual about Alexandra's behavior,'' he said quickly. ''The fear is that she may have... may have been turned.''

Her neck craned forward for a moment, and Amy placed a rather firm grip on his right shoulder. ''Who told you to say that? You know as well as I do that she'd never even entertain the thoughts, so watch who the hell you're talking to, got—''

Elijah had only managed a quiet whimper before Pierce reached the car and Amy retracted her hand. Alex crossed around to the passenger's side, but her eyes caught Amy's, and she didn't sit in the front, sliding into the back.

''You look...'' Pierce's lower lip trapped between her teeth.

Amy gave her a wide-eyed stare, voice quiet. ''I hope you approve, Miss Pierce.'' Her grin belied the image as she rocked up to her knees, carefully unpinning the hairpiece Desade wore. Nimble fingers unfurled the taller woman's natural red locks in short order, and Amy fit herself into the crook of Alex's arm as the car pulled out of the spot.

For her part, Desade pulled Amy's blouse up, her fingers skimming across the Raver's stomach – more the small tattoo both women knew was there. ''Missed you,'' Alex murmured.

Amy returned the sentiment, laying head and shoulders across the Director's lap, looking up with a relieved sigh. ''How'd you get out of there?''

''German efficiency.'' Alex grinned. ''Frau Ehrenberg has a meeting tomorrow afternoon. I fully expect the switchboard will get a call with the horrible news.'' Alex's fingers drew symbols on the taut flesh of her partner's midsection. ''This kind of thing doesn't happen when you invite me along for your little escapades, you know.''

''Ladies...'' Elijah kept his voice gentle; he'd seen enough people face the two redheads' wrath for being interrupted.

''I get distracted when you're around.'' Amy's nimble fingers unbuttoned the lower two buttons of Alex's blouse. ''Can't imagine why.''

Pierce's other hand brushed across Amy's cheeks as the two walked the border between loving and lusting. ''I think...'' Alex breathed in sharply through her teeth. ''I think Elijah's trying to get our attention.''

''Hm.'' After a disapproving grunt, the smaller redhead sat up and attempted to glare lasers through the driver's seat. ''What was so important, anyway? I mean, really - this couldn't have waited until I came home?''

''Your window isn't very large on this one, ladies.'' Hawke spoke as he wove through traffic. One hand snatched up a file folder, passing it behind him into Alex's hands. ''Your target leaves for Africa in three days.''

''Because we're only allowed to go after people in North America?'' Amy said dryly, hooking her thumb along Alex's waistband and her chin on the taller woman's shoulder.

''There will be a great deal of media attention for the trip.''

Pierce paged open the folder as Hawke continued. The first page was a full-page publicity picture of a blonde woman tutoring children in a hospital. ''Her name is – ''

''Holy shit, that's Carolyn Paige,'' Amy said.

''I'm sorry?'' Pierce's brow raised.

''Do you even know what the Internet is, Alex?''

''If it's not in the New York Times...''

''Do you read Page Six, or do you stop at five?''

''Page Six is in the New York Post,'' Hawke interrupted. ''Miss Paige is an up-and-coming... I believe the word is celebutante.''

''Think Paris Hilton with a brain,'' Amy said. She had her Blackberry in her lap, paging through the web distractedly. Her eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. ''You want us to go after Carolyn Paige? Are you trying to get us caught?''

''Miss Paige is the head of some foundation or other, the... ah, Geena Group.''

''It's named after her sister,'' Amy said off-handedly. ''She died when they were eight.''

''Did you want to conduct the briefing, Amy?'' Hawke's brows lifted lightly in the mirror.

Alex felt Amy tense beside her and slipped an arm around the smaller woman's waist, lips finding the top of her head. ''Go on, Elijah,'' Alex said. ''We'll be good.''

''The Geena Group should just be another way for a celebrity to spend their money, but Carolyn apparently takes it seriously, and she's planning to make an announcement of some of her group's findings to spark public interest in her trip.''

''What kind of findings?'' One of Pierce's brows arched.

''Whitechurch's cell got a sloppy at the Trade Center.''

''You're telling me that they know we exist.'' The idea even brought Amy's eyes up from her phone, but not before a muffled ''Here, here's a better photo'' as she handed the device to Desade.

Hawke's nod was a small one. ''And that you have three days to eliminate or discredit her. I trust that's a good reason not to wait until you got home?''

''We should try to discredit this one,'' Amy said. ''Taking out fuglies is one thing, but I'm pretty sure it's like TEN sins to kill something that attractive.''

''I don't know...'' Alex mused. ''Discrediting a professional celebrity is difficult, because people expect her to do stupid crap. If we put her name in the news, we help her case. Someone will believe her.'' The second time, it was Amy who felt Alex tense as she set the phone onto Campbell's thigh. ''And she's really not that attractive, you know. It's all airbrushing.''

''Are you kidding me? You can't airbrush a body like that. The details, sure, but the face, the...'' She shook her head. ''Anyway, it's even harder to kill a celebrity – people never forget. The conspiracies are eternal.''

''I don't care how you do it,'' Hawke's eyes flicked up to the mirror again. ''But you need to shut that press conference down unless you want Weekly World News to be camped on your doorstep – not to mention everyone else who might draw a parallel to certain other activities you two have.''

''I suppose that just shooting her in the pretty-pretty face is probably a bad thing?'' Alex grumbled, turning away. ''Or we could just recruit her, since some people are so infatuated with her.''

''Oh, like you didn't think 'Hey, she's pretty'. I didn't say I'd sleep with her.''

''Ladies?'' A sigh came from the front seat.

Campbell could only shrug. ''Is there a chance that we could go home, relax and discuss this? The job, not my secret obsession with banging a socialite.''

Hawke didn't nod or respond, but the quick left he took was all the indication they needed. The quiet smile Pierce gave Campbell was uncharacteristically shy, but the brush of Amy's fingers to Alex's cheek quieted the taller woman's jealousy for the ride home.

* * * * *

''No, that would be lovely,'' Alexandra Pierce's voice was light, infused with a touch of a southern twang. Her wireless earpiece's repetitive blue blinking lighted her reflection along the floor-to-ceiling windows as she overlooked the city.

The loft Amy Campbell and Alexandra Pierce shared wasn't rented in their names. It belonged to a corporate shell company owned by Missus Eleanor Carver, a wealthy, elderly philanthropist who'd made remarkably few public appearances since an extended hospital stay eighteen months previous.

The fact that Campbell had smothered her in her sleep and the woman carted out had been Alex certainly had something to do with that.

It was sparsely decorated, all black marble and steel-framed furniture, and it was barely lived in – the jet-setting duo rarely stayed anywhere for long. The loft went empty for weeks on end, only disturbed by Order staffers who took care of Amy's cat and picked up the mail.

Alex looked down at the city below them with a small, wistful smile she'd swear was necessary to project the right tone to her voice. ''Nah, hon – if you do learn anything, be sure and give me a call, 'kay?''

A tap to the Bluetooth disconnected the call, and Alex's slightly sad smile didn't waver as she called back over her shoulder. ''Vivien says Paige is pure as the driven goddamn snow. No vices – she doesn't even smoke.'' She rested her forehead against the glass. ''Is it so bad if we let this one go?''

''What?'' Amy Campbell padded barefoot out into the kitchen. Her hair was still damp from the shower they'd taken upon arriving. ''I was brushing my teeth.''

''I said, I'm running out of ideas, you wanna give it a go?''

''You're still thinking about that?'' Campbell's chuckle and the sound of damp feet against the hard floor grew closer to the Director. ''We've got three days to do something that might take a two hour flight and about twenty seconds after it. Kieran's dogs fucked up and we've gotta take care of the mess – doesn't mean we've got to rush out or have a sleepless night.''

The footfalls stopped just short of Pierce, though, the silence only broken by the soft thud of a body falling against a suede couch so comfortable, it should have been (more) illegal. ''You can't enjoy even a second of normality? I mean, call me old-fashioned or digging up the past, but it's nice to be able to lay back and watch TV sometimes or, y'know... get a girl liquored up to the point that she'd do whatever you want. We should really open that wine Hawke gave us last month, by the way.''

Desade glanced over her shoulder, and then looked longer as she turned away from the window. ''Do you miss it?'' she asked as she crossed the room, putting her knee against the couch cushion between Amy's own. ''Being normal?''

''Constantly.'' A pause found Amy grinning ruefully. ''But I haven't been normal since I was five or younger. My normal is the quiet time between whatever crazy, idiotic thing I'm going to do next, and half the time I don't even know what that is... so you could say that your world's a welcome change.'' The grin persisted when she rested a hand on the Spider's hip, looking up to meet her eyes. ''You're always thinking of the next step, planning the next move. I do love it, but even you need downtime... and in bed hardly counts, because even a couple of years in, there's not much sleeping and I know you've got everything that happens there plotted to the nanosecond in that overactive head of yours.''

''Besides,'' She shrugged. ''I've already got a few ideas for this silly job, so there's no need for you to be stressing or ignoring yourself for the sake of it.''

The hand on Pierce's hip impelled the woman to bend, either hand braced on the back of the couch. Her hair hung between them, the old black hair-tie unable to hold the wild mane back. ''Why is it,'' she whispered. ''That I feel a Pretty Woman montage coming on?''

''Not sure.'' Amy's face scrunched. ''Did she get naked a whole lot in that movie?''

Alex tightened a hand in Amy's hair, pulling the smaller woman's head back sharply. The seated woman's whimper was accompanied by a little smirk. ''Then you saw it, too.''

Alex climbed up onto the couch, straddling the other woman. ''You really need to stop talking about how hot she is. You're going to give me a complex.'' There was a long sigh. ''Let's say she did. What of it?''

''You've practically got me in a headlock for saying the woman's attractive,'' Amy laughed and rested her hands behind the other woman's knees. ''You'll punch me for my first idea. And you're pulling, by the way.''

Alexandra's raised eyebrow was all the cause Campbell needed to continue. ''Okay, okay. Before I tell you, I feel the need to note that if I thought she was... well... this hot, I'd be sleeping with her already, and I'm not. So let's move on to the plan that gives the simplest possible in that she wouldn't be inclined to make overly public; we seduce her.''

''We?'' Pierce blinked. ''Hmm, if she's that attractive...'' Alex tapped her finger against her lips in mock thought.

Amy's brow darkened, and she was able to leverage Pierce over, dropping her backfirst onto the couch. Amy shifted atop her.

''I was joking!'' Pierce howled with sudden laughter. ''How exactly do you plan on seducing a Hollywood starlet, who likely draws most of her fans from men who want to do fuck her, into a lesbian orgy in three days?''

''It's not an orgy or anything group-sexish if it's one-on-one, and secondly, you already copped to knowing nothing about gossip. The woman hasn't had any kind of public boyfriend in recent memory, refuses to comment on her sexuality in the press and even played a clerk in an episode of The L Word.'' Amy huffed, ''It's a total cry for some sexy redheaded help to come show her what she's really after.''

''Hrm.'' The Spider reached up, tracing a finger across Campbell's lips. ''Well, I don't know enough to make the play convincing, so I doubt we're talking about me with her.''

''You think my plan would involve anyone else getting to touch you? Have you lost your mind? You could read the past two years of TMZ and I wouldn't let you anywhere near that ugly bitch.''

Alex's head tipped her head back with laughter. ''I love you. Have I mentioned that?'' The fingers in Campbell's hair were much more gentle this time. ''Promise me you won't get star-struck and leave me? I don't want to be alone. Or to get married again.''

Despite the permission she seemed to have just been given, Amy pouted. ''You're not supposed to be okay with the plan that involves me getting the chick I've been babbling on about being oh-so attractive in bed.''

''And,'' She finally growled a little, pushing Pierce's shoulders back to the sofa. ''You're definitely not supposed to be thinking about your fucking marriage while giving my idiotic plays the okay.''

''Oh, I'm not okay with it.'' Alex's smile flickered away. ''The thought of anyone seeing you even without your shirt on makes me want to put my fist through the nearest wall – which, I'll remind you, is made of glass.'' She tucked a curled index under Amy's chin. ''But – as always – I think you're onto something, and nothing in my playbook could work. And I think we'd violate Elijah's request for making it subtle if I tried, because you're already thinking of which knife to use.''

Pierce looked down, her smile tiny. ''And sorry about mentioning Cr—'' A glare from Amy stopped the word. ''I was jealous, and I know it bothers you.''

''More than you kn—waitaminute. Wasn't I just saying we should relax for a bit?'' Campbell looked into the small space between them, then back up. ''And here we are. We're bad at this.''

Alex curled Amy's head down so she could mumble against the Red Raver's forehead. ''We've always been bad at stopping to enjoy whatever moments we have.''

The two redheads were quiet for a moment before Amy turned her head slightly. ''This is vaguely uncomfortable.''

''Shh, we're enjoying the – oh, who am I kidding.'' Alex's grin quirked into something a little more angular. ''We should get you ready. But first...'' Alex turned, pressing her lips into the crook of Amy's elbow, gray eyes like furnaces when they rose to meet Campbell's gaze. ''I want a few moments with you before that ugly cunt lays a hand on you. Gotta mark my territory.''

Especially then, it was rare for Amy to have an honest-to-goodness moment of pause, but that's precisely what it was when she loosened her muscles, letting her weight press onto the Director, cheek planted gently over the other woman's heart. She wouldn't say it, but it reminded Alexandra of the old days.

''So that's how it goes, then?'' Hesitation was even rarer from Aimz. ''You sure you're okay with this? I mean, I'm sure there're other ways if we just...''

''Mm.'' It took a moment for Alex's brain to fire. ''There might be an idea that comes to us, but we don't have a lot of time as it is. And I'm never going to be up for it – neither one of us the way Kathryn used to be – but if I get to play the triggerman, I'll be okay. Just don't...''

Alex sighed curled her hand around Campbell's shoulder, fingers dancing on the blade. ''Just don't actually do her. I don't think I could handle watching you make love to another woman. I'll just text Roderick and we'll—''

The kisses came light at first, just enough to interrupt, and then Campbell smiled. ''You'll text him later. We'll do whatever you want, and I promise you that there won't be a second of love in anything involving her. If you didn't look so sweet right now, I might be insulted that you felt the need to tell me not to sleep with her. Even if I was interested - which I'm not - you know I can't do that kind of thing without my emotions getting the—''

''I know.'' Pierce touched her hands to the smaller woman's cheeks. ''You don't have to say it. You don't have to say anything.''

The Raver's lips skittered across Pierce's jawline. ''Are you saying, 'Shut up'?''

''Puh...'' Alex gave a full body shiver, her whisper ragged. ''Please do.''

''Thought you were never gonna ask.''

The next time the Order lackeys came to that loft, they had to replace the sofa's broken leg.

Neither redhead ever said why.

* * * * *

The car they rented in Los Angeles was a little less conspicuous – just a silver-gray four-door.

The driver the night of the play was a little more.

''Y'sure yer a'right, kid? I usedta get all kindsa grumbly in my belly 'fore I wen' out. My butterflies had caterpillars.''

Roderick Ashe was allowed to drive only if he avoided smoking in the car; Carolyn Paige was allergic to cigarette smoke, and just the hint of the smell would have killed the play even before it began.

''I'm fine, Ashe.'' Amy was nestled in the back seat behind Roderick. ''You're looking in the rearview mirror.''

''Shit, Aim, I know I promised I ain't gonna look, but traffic is pants tonight, so cut me a goddamn break. Place is jus' fuggin' twelve miles down the road an' it's gonna take near an hour. Makes me want the damn machine guns Allie promised I could install.''

''Miiiight have made people notice my arrival, you know.''

''Yeh, well. You were trained by Allie, an' she's the best, so you'd figger somethin' out.''

The car drifted to a halt at a red light, and Ashe banged meaty paws against the wheel in frustration. He grinned, half-turning over his shoulder, but a small sound – just the clearing of her throat – turned him back the other way. ''Don't get all offended an' shit,'' he said defensively. ''Was jus' gonna tell you this rip-roarin' story I heard about Allie.''

''I've heard one too many of those lately, but let's have it.''

''Yer too young to remember it, but there was this motherfucker we called the Drifter. Real high-an'-mighty dickbag, right? Worked fer Allie, did all sortsa dirty-deeds an' shit. Then one day he jus' decides he's fuckin' had it. Drops offa the face of the earth. I heard he turned to the feds an' did their nastiness fer a while.''

''Sounds like you guys had another winner.''

''Yeh. Story goes, he was in San Fran the other night. Havin' tea with friggin' Allie. I mean, shit, that's like cats an' dogs goin' out to play tiddlywinks.''

Amy could only shake her head. ''Makes no sense. Even if she were there – which I doubt, since she knows she doesn't have to lie to me to go out – why would they get together? Why is this news?''

The big man shrugged. ''Mebbe she's goin' soft. There's some grumblin' that she's gonna flip on—''

Only she would have slapped a man that size quite that hard in the shoulder, especially when he was behind the wheel of the car. ''Piss off, and quit chuckling about it. You think there's any way she'd think of tossing us out? The Order, maybe – but me? Honestly, I know you're slow, but how fucking stupid can you possibly get? You're building conspiracies about the woman who may as well have given birth to you, so shut your goddamned mouth before I stop caring about this car slamming into a building and break your neck. Underfuckingstood, or do I need to demonstrate?''

'''Ey!'' The car swerved across the road, but the big man managed to keep control. ''Hawkers said—hrk!''

Obviously, a shove to the shoulder wasn't enough, because the next thing Ashe knew, the little redhead had a knee against the back of the seat and was using the shoulder strap of his seatbelt to choke him.

''Awight, awight!'' Ashe's voice was hoarse as he poked two fingers between the nylon belt and his neck. ''I'm sorry!''

''You do not doubt that woman, understand me? She's the only person on this planet I can say I truly know, and that isn't going to be taken from either of us.'' Campbell let go of the strap and leaned back into her seat, but she kept a sharp eye in the rearview. ''Now... the club's up here. End of the block, by all the cars and slutty girls.''

''Yeh.'' Ashe rubbed a hand to his throat. His beady eyes in the rearview were a touch resentful, but Amy didn't flinch. ''You wan' me to drop you off, or you wan' me to open the door for ya?''

''Open the door.'' Amy snapped. ''It's your job, and I actually get to be me on this one.''

* * * * *

The club was prettied up like a cathedral, using the same kind of false imagery that was plastered onto almost everybody who came in the front door and passed the stained-glass entry decor. The bar was the most attractive part of the room for more than a few reasons, the primary being that Amy Campbell was there to meet friends; Mr. Cuervo, Jack and a Captain she'd known well. There was also the small matter of the woman attempting to escape the hard-partying of her own entourage, who Amy had quickly locked onto and gravitated towards at a pace that sped up when she noticed how many others were also noticing the woman. It wasn't the night for hangers-on – they just didn't know it.

The seemingly sullen young woman had given the redhead her perfect opportunity – an open had been handed to her, neatly wrapped in a clingy skirt, bedazzled tanktop and an aura that oozed fame.

Of course, Campbell would make a note not to notice that fame. It was part of the perfect play, as was the puzzled look she donned when slinking into a stool next to where the socialite stood.

''Lemme guess... fight with your boyfriend?''

Carolyn Paige had brushed her off at first, if not only because she doubted anyone would have opened with a line like that, but after another glance to the redhead seated beside her, she realized that the woman's gaze was unwavering... and slightly curious to look at. ''I'm sorry, what was that? Y... okay, I've got to ask – are those contacts?''

''Born this way. I know that's what I'm supposed to say if I put contacts in to make them different colors for attention, but I don't find them attractive and I'm pretty sure they don't get me the kind of attention I like... so yeah, they're natural. I'm a walking genetic defect.'' Amy winked, ''And I was trying to pin what brought you to the club tonight.

She smiled at Paige – nothing sleazy, slutty or anything but friendly. ''Or at least what's got you walking up to the bar in a huff, getting ready to drink one of the three shots the bartender's on his way over to me with.''

''I...'' Carolyn blinked, half-turning away. ''They wanted to have a party. We've got a busy few days and I figured it was fair, I guess. My agent is being a jerk about making sure I get good photos for my image.''

''Huh, I thought I'd seen you somewhere before. What do you—''

Before the words could come out, Amy was watching Paige's 'friends' drag her back to their table, and the starlet didn't do much to stop it.

''Shit,'' She whispered, ''Had the perfect setup and they had to ruin it.''

''She doesn't know what she's missing.''

Amy took no small comfort in the whisper in her ear, even though she had no real idea where Alexandra Pierce was in the club. Even this far into their partnership, Alex's ability to disappear into a character was frightening. ''You're a natural at the buddy-play, though. Give it some time. You want me to run interference?''

''I'll be fine. I'm sure you've got a close enough eye on me as is.'' Campbell muttered and quickly took in one of the tequila shots the bartender put before her. ''You'll notice I didn't stare, by the way.''

Amy could hear the grin in Alex's voice. ''Wasn't paying attention. Your ass looks great in those pants, though.''

''Where are you?'' The smaller redhead laughed to herself and accepted the fact that she likely looked like a maniac to the bartender, who'd just been ordered to bring her more shots. She smiled and scanned the room when she grabbed two of the three, one already on its way down her throat as Campbell slipped in between the crowd of people on the floor, headed for the more private tables on the other side. ''I know you're distracting when I can see you, but I hate when you're that well-hidd—AHA! One second, her buddies are headed to the bar. And goddamn, does that shirt fit her.''

''I'm close enough that I'm available.'' Pierce just managed to keep the grumble out of her voice. ''Signal me if you need me to spill a drink on an underdressed slut.'' A pause. ''Or maybe if you don't.''

At the risk of seeming too forward, Amy pretended to just be walking by, quickly using the window of opportunity by resting her hip against the table where Paige sat alone. ''No offense intended, but it could be seen as rude that you didn't bother slipping your name out while the drunkies dragged you off.''

Carolyn raised an eyebrow. ''I'm sorry. I thought... I mean, I figured you knew who I was. Everyone else here has.'' She extended a hand. ''Carolyn Paige.''

''I don't mean to diminish the work I'm certain you've done and the fame you've earned,'' Amy smiled again, sliding into the booth. ''I just haven't paid much attention to the media since I was in it. I recognize the name, though – and mine's Amy Campbell, by the way. You likely haven't heard of me, there's not much reason to.''

''Anyway,'' She continued, motioning to slip back onto her feet. ''I'll get out of your hair now that I've realized how rude I was to invite myself to sit down. Just saw you at the bar looking out of sorts and figured it might help to see a fresh face. Oh, and the shots're yours if you want them... give 'em to your friends when they're back or something. Enjoy your night, Ca—''

But the girl was gone. ''Huh,'' Campbell said to herself.

At the end of the night, Amy drank Paige's friends under the table, and, well, with no one to distract her, the Raver's persistence paid off in giggles, soft touches, and a stumbling walk through dark alleyways to a dingy motel.

* * * * *

''I can't believe we're doing this.''

Unaware she was being watched, Carolyn Paige stood behind Amy Campbell as the redhead slipped the keycard into the lock.

''I mean, I never thought I was going to be sneaking into a hotel room with anyone, let alone anther girl. I can't believe that guy at the front desk didn't recognize me.''

Alexandra Pierce, alabaster flesh bronzed by make-up and her red hair bound up beneath an unflattering wig, pushed a cart full of laundry towards the elevators. The steady blue glow of the power light on her earpiece neared as Amy turned over her shoulder.

''Ay-yi-yi, Lupita,'' Pierce murmured in a spot-on accent. ''Es mal, es muy mal! Necesita un doctor!''

When Amy slipped the keycard in and playfully shoved Paige through the door, she wasn't actually drunk enough to accidentally drop it where anybody - particularly housekeeping - could stroll by and pick it up to gain access to her room... but nobody needed to know that.

''I told you, nothing needs to happewhoaaaaa there.'' She couldn't help but chuckle and smile when swatting the near stranger's hands away. ''Let's slow down so you don't end up doing something you regret, yeah? After all, I'm the helpless drunk girl you're taking advantage of – I deserve a solid performance, even though I'm sure you'll never call me again.''

Amy could think of a few things Alex would likely call one of them while listening in. Instead, her ear was greeted to the sound of the Director's throat clearing. The sound came in the same ear that Carolyn Paige had craned her neck out to nibble at; Clearly, they hadn't really prepared for close contact with a live mark.

''What was that?'' Carolyn asked, brows raising softly as she half-staggered backwards in the smaller woman's arm. The door slid shut behind them just as the maid's leisurely stroll took her past the room. ''Did your ear just make a sound or have I gone mad?''

''Hm?'' Amy raised a hand to the offending ear. ''Oh, my ear. I've had an ear infection for like a week now... keeps crackling and popping. I've gotten a couple a year since I was little. Only other thing you'd hear might be that little voice in my head that's telling me to stop urging you to take your time and rethink this.'' She smiled amid efforts not to return the force of the kiss Paige had just planted on her. She was walking a thin enough line already, hands thoughtlessly hiking the other woman's skirt up a leg. ''It's the devil on my shoulder, I guess. Kinda beat up the angel on the other side for drink money.''

Carolyn grinned. ''You said I should be me, not who the media thinks I am, and I think I want to see all that ink. Get the full scope.''

''Just tell me when.'' The eagerness in Alex's voice was undeniable.

''Sit down on the bed. Let me undress you.''

Campbell kind of wished the Spider could have seen her face at that moment – it was torn between professional necessity, disgust and sheer terror as she obeyed a strange woman's request and sank onto the edge of the bed. Despite the circumstance, she tried not to hesitate. ''Okay, but you've gottaheythat'smyshirt. I mean, this is great and all, I thought we could talk a little, though. Y'know, in private. You should... uh... yeah, make sure this is what you want and that you're not gonna end up in a crying heap after and... yeah, you should just know I'm not pressuring you into anything you don't want to—''

Paige went to work on Amy's sweater as she leaned in (thankfully, she put her tongue in the other ear). ''You should really just shut up.''

''Yeah, I...'' Campbell squirmed away. ''I get that a lot.''

Their lips met again, and it was at that moment that a hard-soled boot kicked the door in, the frame falling to pieces. Both women stumbled backwards, feet tangling, as a woman staggered into the room. Her face was streaked with dirt, eyes bloodshot. A knit cap covered a head of dingy, dishwater blond hair. She held a small, gray .38 Special pistol.

''A'right!'' Her voice was low, scratchy, like she'd been smoking for years. ''All your money on the... the bed, hey?''

Paige's eyes widened, and nearly fell into the bed. She raised both hands. ''Don't do anything crazy,'' she said, swinging an arm around her back to shield Campbell. ''We can work this out.''

''I dun'...'' Pierce wiped a hand on a smudged cheek. ''I dun' givva FUCK about workin' stuff out, y'know? I... I... put your shit on the bed!'' She waved the pistol at the pair of women. ''Don' play with me! You think you can fool me but you can't fool me, 'kay... so just put your shit on the bed and back off!''

''Don't play brave!'' Amy hissed to Paige, hands already raised. ''That gun doesn't look fake.'' She turned to Alex, ''And look, lady—ma'am—I've got nothing on me. Except maybe Miss Paige here...''

''You've got a purty wallet chain, you—you tellin' me that there's nothin' in that wallet?'' Pierce narrowed her eyes, chewing on the inside of her lip to prevent any smiles.

''I got this, don't worry,'' Paige whispered. Turning back to the man, she smiled. ''No problem. Just let me go to my purse and you can have anything you want. Just don't do anything crazy.''

Pierce stormed forward, waving the gun fiercely. ''You think I'm playin'? Yer gonna op-open this an' there'll be a panic button or some shit and... pff.'' She did a whole body shake. ''I don't have time for this, I should kill you both and take stuff.''

''Please tell me we're cooperating,'' Campbell whimpered, ''Dunno about you, Caro, but I kinda like my life. I have a cat, and even some moderately less important people who'd miss me.''

''We're cooperating.'' Paige smiled, a broad, sunny thing that Amy didn't need any experience to know she was faking. ''See?'' She dumped her purse onto the bed. ''No hidden weapons or panic buttons or—''

Carolyn whipped around with the purse leading. She swung through, the straps binding her arm. She pulled hard, stepping in and snatching the gun. Alex stumbled backwards, raising both hands.

''Not so funny now, is it?'' Carolyn smirked, waving the gun at Alexandra. ''Not so tough without this gun, are you?''

''Don't... don' do nothin' stupid.''

''Go.'' She gestured with the small firearm. ''Get out of here before I kick your ass myself! You think you're tough because you have a gun? The people who're going to come after me wouldn't even know your name.''

''Dude!''

That was the only sound that came when Amy lunged, pressing Paige's arms above her head, against the wall - gun included. Someone more experienced would have noticed how willingly Campbell gave their 'intruder' her back. ''Put that fucking thing down. Now.'' She ordered, ''And you don't even dream of hurting her, understood?''

''Whoa!'' Paige released all but two fingers from the gun. ''I wasn't going to hurt her!''

''It's okay, really!'' Grubby Alex skittered backwards. ''I'm going. This is me, going. Guess I'll have to wait for another chance – I mean, not with you. With someone else and all and bye!''

She crab-walked out of the room, leaving a grinning Paige behind. ''That. Was. Awesome! Did you see me? I was all whack! And the junkie girl was all, whoa! I have got to get my publicist on the line.''

Amy's eyebrows beetled over her mismatched eyes. ''Wow. You... you chased away a crook?'' She rocked up to peck Paige's nose. ''You are a badass. Do you really have to make the call now?''

''I'm still buzzing about it. Now is the time to get my thoughts down.''

Campbell didn't let go of the gun, and Paige let it go, stepping quickly to her belongings, still on the bed. ''I can't believe I did that!'' she squealed, turning back with a smile.

BANG!

The smile didn't last long, as the shot rang out in the room, the bullet tearing through Carolyn's stomach. Her eyes widened in shock, mouth working as Amy raised the still-smoking gun again and pulled the trigger, sort of distractedly. The second shot caught her in the throat, and her mouth moved but only a whistling gurgle came out.

Campbell looked down impassively, shrugging her shoulders softly. She might have said something witty, but she stepped past even before her shoulders fell again, sticking her head out through the door. ''Hsst!'' she whispered. ''Alex!''

Pierce slipped out of the storage closet, slipping down the hallway. She took Amy's hands in her own. ''What are you doing?'' she hissed. ''Just because I blew it doesn't mean you have to improvise!''

''So I should've... what? Let her tell the story and then get security so tight that we'd never get the second chance?'' Campbell sighed. ''Just don't worry about it, the job's done and now we can get the hell out of here. No matter how much you change or train me, dead people will still be creepy.''

''Are you...'' Alex rocked up to her toes, peering over Amy's shoulder. ''Are you sure it's done? She's a hell of a lot sneakier than I thought she would be.''

''Of course it's done, I don't play with my food.'' Amy scoffed, retrieving the purse (and shirt) she'd dropped in the room. ''How'd a socialite fool like her get you cornered like that, anyway? Are you feeling okay?''

Pierce didn't enter the room with Amy, waiting out in the hallway as lookout. ''I'm fine. I didn't expect her to jump me is all.'' She jammed her hands into her pockets, shoulders hunching forward. ''It happens.'' One hand slid a lock of her red hair behind her ear. ''C'mon. Someone will have heard that, and I'm not really keen on being hung out to dry by the Order to cover their tracks here.''

Campbell was about as casual as a housewife hurried to pack for an overnight trip, checking the room over again before using her sleeve to flick the light switch and slip out the door, brushing against the Director. ''We probably shouldn't have gone with that plan. I didn't like having to let her get gropey, and that's got to be what had you distracted enough to slip up.'' She sighed, ''Sorry. We can just pretend I botched it, if you want.''

As far as anyone knew, the pair of redheads were just friends (all right, maybe a little more than friends) wandering down the hallway. ''I wouldn't say botch. No plan survives contact with the enemy or whatever.''

''No, you pretty much botched it.'' Amy was still smiling, though, and that's probably the only thing that kept Alex's temper in chase. ''I mean, she's maybe a hundred and ten pounds and she disarmed you. Not good, especially with all the rumors.''

Alex savagely pressed the button to summon the elevator. ''Rumors?'' Her brows climbed as the elevator chimed, a pair of uniformed security guards jostling them as they darted past.

''Oh,'' Amy shrugged, stepping inside the cabin after making sure to crane her neck and stare curiously at the security. Even the tones she used whispering to Alex were excited, trying to mock some sort of question as to what the suited men were moving towards. ''Just some stupid shit about how they're thinking you might be working outside of the order or some garbage like that. That you're 'compromised' somehow. I just wouldn't go using explanations that end with 'or whatever' to the others if I were you, it's only gonna feed their idiocy.''

The doorway to the stairs opened, a quartet of uniformed police following through. The cop in the rear paused, glancing to the elevator doors as they closed. Alex half-turned towards Amy, rolling her eyes theatrically. ''Just when you'd think that office politics wouldn't be everywhere.''

It wasn't until the doors slid smoothly shut that she pressed fully up against the other redhead, taking Amy's hands in hers. ''You know I'd never betray you, right?''

''Of course.'' Amy smiled, still making the effort to remain calm but curious for the people who'd be scattering when those doors opened again. Everything was normal, for all they knew. ''And I know if any of what they said had any foundation, I'd be the first to know.''

''Then let them talk.'' The doors slid open to the sight of more police rushing in. Alex offered Amy her hand. ''Because as long as you know, the rest of them can go jump in a lake.''

The two redheads stepped out into the lobby, Amy's eyebrows curled artfully up in an expression that screamed confusion. One of the policemen stopped them with a stern gaze, and Alex flashed him a small, nervous smile.

''What seems to be the problem, officer?'' she asked.

''There's been a death upstairs.'' The policeman frowned. ''I'm going to need you to stay here while we sort out what might have happened.''

Amy's gaze slid back to the lobby, and if she was counting the number of cops, no one would have known. Pierce nodded, guiding the other woman to the seats nearest the door. The walkie-talkie on the man's hip chirped with a burst of static that must have been a summons, given the man's speedy stride past the two and to the stairs.

''Five cops, including that one,'' Amy said, perched on the armrest of the chair. ''Not the kind of odds I like.''

''Not a problem.'' Pierce produced her iPhone, thumbing through her contacts with practiced ease. ''Be ready to go – fast, but no running.''

A rapidly typed text message later, and new bursts of static tore from the officers' waists, leading them upstairs. As if on cue, Amy pushed off the chair, curling around the corner and holding the door open for the redhead that followed her, expelling them out onto the street, where they lost themselves in the growing throng.

* * * * *

She hated this part of town.

The streets were too narrow, the sidewalks too cluttered with refuse, and the people universally smelled. Driving an SUV through this neighborhood was like taking a yacht down a canal – far more difficult than it sounded.

But it was Amy's turf, and so Alexandra Pierce sucked it up if she wanted to see her. Some people in the Order had day jobs – accountants and lawyers, actors and professional wrestlers. Others... others were Amy Campbell, Alex mused, turning into the receiving dock of a nondescript warehouse – #616 Baker Street.

Within, the lights were dimmed, pools of illumination cast from hanging bulbs at regular intervals, but most of the really interesting goods stored here were in the darkness, rather than the light. Thus, the sight of a fluorescent camping lantern lighting some forgotten corner of the warehouse while a transaction occurred wasn't a particularly rare occurrence, long shadows cast by men carrying out a deal with a woman a third to a half their size.

''I know you're smart guys. I mean, I'd look awfully stupid having morons work for me - and I'd really hate to look stupid.'' The little redhead in that forgotten corner had just set a small package into the backpack she wore. ''And I don't look like much, but let's think of it like this; I'm head office, you're my little franchises. I get product from various distributors, sort and pass that product along to you, because you're street-level and doing the day-to-day, making the sales. I'm honoring you with that product, putting my reputation and wallet on the line because this business wouldn't work if I couldn't trust you to do your job efficiently. You franchisees don't have to do your own transactions – you can staff, so long as I get the same back at the end of the day. I help you by letting you do whatever it is you need to do to get the job done for me.''

She finally saw Pierce approaching with a quick glance to her, then back to the men. ''Now, I'm busy and you're lucky for it, because otherwise we'd discuss this 'slow week' a little further. If you think I'm scary enough to take orders from, imagine the people above me – the ones I'm afraid of. If you don't get off your lazy asses, do the job and make the money that I'm enabling you to, I'll have to send the people I get to do the rest of my dirty work in. They're not nice. And if I end up catching shit for your lacking performance at the baseline? The guys supplying me will gladly have you in a jungle, drying coca leaves until you die of an STD at 40.''

Just before dismissing the men, Campbell waved a hand. ''So never sell in bulk, understood? Only I get to do that. I give it to you so you can maintain a steady cashflow. Let your lackeys know that we're selling fixes, not a fucking stash. That's what results in money droughts. You give a junkie a little at a time and they'll be back tomorrow for another little bit. This is why I distribute small portions in big packages – it takes most of the thought out of it for you fucktards. Now go do your jobs... and if you ever come to me with these numbers again? Don't. Just run for the border, because you might have a chance then.''

Pierce's eyes turned down briefly, but a small smile lit up her face as she strode up to the other woman, just as the men were departing. ''You're getting soft, you know,'' she said with that grin. ''There was a time one of these kids would be dangling out of a window for a bad day.'' She pitched her voice a little higher, just so the men could hear her. ''Remember that time in Topeka? That guy screamed for like, an hour.''

''Hour and seventeen minutes.'' Amy turned, grinning. ''What are you doing here? I thought you'd taken the night off.''

''I did.'' Alex shrugged. ''Figured I'd take my favorite girl out for some dinner. You think these morons could spare you?''

''They'll be fine.'' Campbell took her turn to shrug, swinging her backpack off of one arm and around to her front, rifling through the wrapped bills she'd just received as they found their place amongst her junk. ''What's the occasion, anyway? You're usually not so out of the blue about things, and I know you hate my part-time work.''

''I don't like your work any more than you like mine.'' Her smile was slightly askew, flitting lopsidedly across her features. ''And I'm allowed to be spontaneous every now and then, aren't I? Everything is always so planned – go there, smile then, two gunshots, no more. Sometimes I just want to cut loose.''

She stepped around behind the smaller woman, kneading her shoulders. ''One night of you and me, no Order, no calls, no stupid missions. Just a movie and, say, a pizza?''

''Deal.'' Amy shrugged the pack onto her shoulder, smiling behind her at the other redhead. ''You would not believe my day.''

''I bet I've got you beat,'' Pierce said with a small smile.

They started for the SUV, and in another place, they might have just been friends out for a girls' night. Campbell flounced into the passenger's side and Alex started the car, meandering out onto the streets. Music wafted from the radio, and everything was peaceful and quiet.

Not that that ever lasted. ''What did you mean before?'' Amy drew her foot onto the passenger seat, retying her shoes.

''Hm?'' Alex's gaze slid briefly to the side. ''When?''

''When you said you had me beat? I thought you were just going to sit around and read?''

''Oh. Yeah, but I had a headache for most of it.''

''A headache?'' Amy blinked. ''You need some aspirin?''

''It's nothing, really.'' Alex smiled to the side. ''We're... I'm just glad that you're here.''

''You're acting weird, even for y—'' Cobra Starship's 'Snakes On A Plane (Bring It)' interrupted, blaring from her Blackberry. ''Damnit, if that's one of the morons I just walked away from...''

After a moment of fussing with the handset, Campbell half-growled her greeting. ''Speak.''

''Campbell, thank God.'' Kieran Whitechurch's voice would perhaps best have been called ''narrow'' – it was thin beyond words, raised at an odd pitch. ''I've been trying to get you and your partner all night.''

''It's our night off, Kieran. Go find someone else.'' Amy rolled her eyes at the other woman, a glimmer of ''can you believe this guy?'' in the expression.

''I figured you'd want in on this. Is Pierce with you?''

''Just picked me up. We're having pizza.''

''Put me on speaker.''

''Whatever. If I miss out on my pepperoni, I'm going to be pissed.'' Amy flicked the button that sent the words into the ether.

''Kieran, Alexandra.'' Pierce effortlessly changed lanes. ''What's the issue?''

''Elijah Hawke is dead.''

''What?'' It was Campbell who asked the question, a chirp of surprise in the word.

''Oh, that's just the start of the story. Looks like he's been feeding information back to Jonas fucking Stryker. He might be the source for Carolyn Paige's leak, even.''

''Elijah?'' Alex finally found her voice. ''I've known him for fifteen years, Kieran. There's no way that—''

''I'm afraid the evidence is sort of overwhelming, Alex. My team and I are standing here in his apartment. Seems he blamed us for his wife's death. We've got a location on Stryker's place, and I'm rounding up the troops. You girls in?''

Amy swallowed hard, staring into her lap. ''There's no way that's...'' She shook her head. ''He just helped us with Paige, and the other night he was worried about—''

Alex reached out, putting her hand on the smaller woman's thigh. ''They must have had something on him. Elijah was... was steadfast, he wouldn't just turn on us.''

''I'm sure the truth will out. Are you coming?''

Amy looked up, brows knitted, anger staining her features. ''Yeah, we're in. We're so in.''

''You have ten minutes to get here. I'll text you the directions.''

The line went dead, and for the first time that night, the car was quiet without the expectation of conversation. And it was Alex who broke the silence. ''Are you... are you all right, babe?''

Campbell managed a half-nod, yanking her pack up out of the wheel well. ''Just bring me someone's head on a pike by the time we get home.''

''Can do.'' Alex shifted gears, whipping the SUV around a slow-moving car.

* * * * *

The storefronts were painted in red and blue light when they got there. ''Shit,'' Campbell muttered, sliding down her seat out of view.

There must have been a half-dozen cop cars stacked up around what appeared to be an antique bookstore, the front end of a blue SWAT van plowed through the plate-glass window. The white light of their SUV's headlights flashed over a man on his knees, fingers knitted behind his head in a white-blond ponytail. A cop in a dark bulletproof vest stood over the man, semi-automatic rifle slung across his shoulder.

''That's Kieran!'' Pierce's exclamation was soft.

Three men hovered over a stretcher, one actively pointing his shotgun at the massive form of Roderick Ashe, leg wrapped in bandages that still seeped blood.

''It was a fucking setup!'' Amy unzipped the Hello Kitty backpack, hand dipping inside, but Alex reached over and put a hand on her forearm.

''No sudden moves,'' Alex said. ''Unless you want to take on the whole fucking police force with just me as backup.''

Amy's mismatched gaze narrowed on the rearview mirror as the SUV crept past the scene, Alex carefully following the direction of the uniform-clad officers at the intersection. Sudden movement attracted the observant Raver's attention. ''You may not have a choice, Al. They've seen us.''

Pierce jerked the car hard to the left, squeezing the massive vehicle between two stores a moment before the sirens began to wail. ''Hold on,'' Pierce said through gritted teeth. Sparks shot from the brick foundations of the buildings to each side, the paint on the rearview mirrors scraped nearly completely off due to the tight fit.

The SUV sprang out on the other side, colliding with a parking meter and part of the fender of the hybrid parked there. Tires squealed to the passenger side as the police followed the actual streets. Pierce's gloved hands flew over the steering wheel, the turn so tight it nearly brought two of the tires up off the pavement.

''We're never going to lose them in this thing!'' Alex pressed her foot almost all the way to the floor.

Amy's hands dipped again into her bag. ''Open the sunroof!'' she said.

''Are you crazy?''

''Probably.''

Desade listened (for a change, perhaps), and Campbell climbed into the backseat, slithering to a standing position on the leather seat. A black and white police cruiser hopped the curb as it turned the corner ahead of them, an officer on a motorcycle shooting out of the same space that they'd just squeezed through.

''Slow down!'' Amy shouted down into the cabin of the car.

''You are crazy! We're trying to get away!''

''A lot easier to do if no one is chasing us, so slow the fuck down!'' Amy's hand emerged from the bag, nearly dwarfed by a grenade.

''Is that a—''

Campbell flung it, the bounding projectile skittering under a parked car before exploding. The ensuing shrapnel caused the cop on the bike to skid badly, fishtailing out as he tried to control his speeding vehicle.

''What are you doing?!'' Pierce turned onto the main drag. ''You're going to get us both killed if you start blowing up cops!''

Amy gripped the pin of her second grenade, narrowing her eyes in consideration. ''Turn left up here.''

''That's a parking garage! We'll be trapped.''

''Just do it!''

Alex complied again, and Campbell swung her second throw sidearm, the grenade ricocheting off the side door of a cab and right into the path of the cop car in pursuit, the explosion catching the front fender and sending the car ass over teakettle to smash against the low-hanging entrance of the garage.

''Now that was... friggin' awesome!'' Amy was beaming as she dropped back down into the seat, but her frown soon return as Alex jerked the SUV into park. ''What are you doing? There's more of them!''

''And I said we'll never escape them in this thing. We need something faster, so let's go, already.''

Pierce and Campbell slid out of opposite sides of the car, Alex's pearl-handled pistol falling easily into her hand. ''What's the plan, Siegfried?'' Amy asked, trotting up beside her partner.

''We need something nondescript or fast.''

Amy stopped running, glancing over her shoulder. ''They're going to catch us.''

''What?'' Alex turned over her shoulder. ''We don't have time for this.''

Amy nibbled on her bottom lip. ''We need to split up. Lose ourselves in the crowd.''

Quick steps carried Desade back to her lover. ''I'm not leaving you alone out there.''

''Al.'' Amy blew her bangs out of her eyes. ''They're looking for two redheads traveling together.''

''I have a stash of wigs—''

''They're looking for two women together.'' Amy rose up to her tiptoes, a gentle kiss to the Spider's nose. ''I'll be fine, Alex. Won't even kill anyone, scout's honor. And I know you've already figured out how to disappear, am I right?''

''Maybe.'' Pierce took Amy's hands in her own. ''Just... promise me I'll see you again.''

''Cross my heart.''

The two women kissed briefly, no time for the gasping passion that they often lost themselves in, before Amy stepped back. ''Two days back at the loft.''

Alex nodded. ''Two days.''

Campbell dropped the clip from her Glock into her hand as she jogged down the ramp they'd just come up, pulling a replacement and a small box out of her pack. She dropped to the concrete, tongue trapped between her teeth as she affixed a little surprise to the SUV the two women had abandoned. She leapt over the edge of the ramp, pulling the hood of her sweatshirt low over her head.

Alex jogged deeper into the structure, eyes flicking back and forth in consideration as she looked over the sparse selection of vehicles.

Both women were frowning, but for different reasons.

Both women made a phone call, but for very different reasons.

* * * * *

It had been a very good few days for Jonas Stryker.

The thin man slipped a thin cigarette between his lips as he shrugged on his omnipresent jacket, stepping into the morning sunlight. Who would have thought that the great Drifter, infamous layabout and hard drinker, would enjoy living in the suburbs of all places? White picket fences, 2.3 children, swimming pool in the backyard... in his day, he'd considered that a fool's quest, the pot of gold at a rainbow he didn't particularly want to chase down.

What a difference a few years made. Nowadays, he was a made man – the government's golden boy, bringing down a group the FBI hadn't even heard of three years before. And now... now he had the vast majority of them languishing in stuffy interview rooms and dingy cells, and why?

Because he had the balls to try what no one else had.

He stopped at foot of his walkway, fishing his keys out of the pocket of the long, well-worn leather duster he'd sported for so long. Mr. Johnson was watering his lawn, and the man raised his hand to Jonas, a smile on his face.

Yep, definitely a good day to be Jonas Stryker.

The papergirl's bike had baseball cards clipped to its front wheel, approaching with a clatter as she flung the morning news onto the neighbors' lawns. Stryker turned his warm smile that way, his eyes flicking across the plastic wrapped newspaper on his lawn as she approached.

The paper that had already been delivered.

He reached across his body, finding the grip of his trusty revolver, but by then, the girl was already on him. Two darts trailed wires as they thudded into his neck, a squeeze of the trigger pumping 50,000 watts of electricity into the man's body. He convulsed against the car.

Across the street, Mr. Johnson saw the assault happen and started that way. A shadow broke off the side of his house, tackling the man from behind. A syringe pricked him behind the ear, and the man howled with agony, rocking in convulsions as his attacker pivoted up to her feet.

Across the street, the papergirl with the taser pulled off her red ballcap, undoing her black ponytail as she looked down at the man. ''I liked Mr. Hawke,'' Quinn Gregory said, turning over her shoulder as Amy Campbell trotted across the street. She smiled for Campbell. ''Make this son of a bitch pay.''

Amy sneered as she pulled Stryker up to his feet, back against his government-issued sedan. ''I don't think you and I have been properly introduced,'' she said. ''I'm Amy, and that's Quinny. We'd really like to know what happened to Alexandra Pierce. And you... you're going to tell me. Do you know why you're going to tell me?''

''Nng...'' A gobbet of phlegm spattered against Campbell's cheek. ''Go fuck yourself.''

Amy answered the insult with a backhand, sending the man back to the driveway. ''That isn't why you're going to tell me, silly.'' She put a sneaker-clad foot on the man's head, forcing his gaze across the street. ''You're going to talk to me, Mr. Stryker. If you don't, when your wife gets home from dropping the kids at school, I'll have to do what I did to your kindly neighbor to poor Madison. Another tragic overdose for an overworked housewife. Two heart attacks in the same day across the street is a horrible coincidence.''

''You don't... don't have the stones.''

''And if that doesn't convince you, I'm sure that when your little boy gets home... well, if my mom OD'd, I can't imagine what he might do in his grief. Am I clear?'' She glanced to the Devil's Daughter. ''Am I being clear? I think I'm being pretty clear.''

''I understand you,'' Quinn said. ''Loud and clear.''

Stryker's laughter on the concrete started out weak, and but it got stronger. ''You... you don't know!'' he exclaimed between giggles. ''You don't know!''

The enraged Raver grabbed the man by his silk shirt. ''I'm not normally the kind of woman you laugh at, Joanie,'' Campbell hissed. ''But obviously, you think you've got some big secret that entitles you to be giggly, so come on, why don't you share with the rest of the class?''

''You think... you think I turned Hawke and then, what, killed him?'' He laughed again. ''Where's the play in that? Kill him, force the rest of you to follow some clue that led your to your precious Order collapsing? Seems like a pretty shitty way to treat my mole, doesn't it?''

''I'm losing my patience, Stryker.'' Amy glanced down the street. ''How long until Madi gets back, do you think? Five minutes?''

''Your fight is with me, you psycho cunt. And to think, she made sure we'd let you go.''

Campbell stepped into a knee to the man's stomach, sliding to his side to yank him back by the hair, hard enough to shatter the window like it was made out of spun sugar. ''You're lying.''

''Why would I lie?'' He sniggered. ''You should see your face right now. Yes, Amy, it wasn't Hawke that turned, it was Pierce.''

''My mother wouldn't...'' Tears sprung to the corners of Quinn's eyes. ''She couldn't...''

''But she did. She did, and now, yo—'' Jonas' words were silenced by another backhand from Campbell, this one backed up by the heft of a knife.

Quinn shook her head repeatedly. ''This can't be happening. It can't be her. Can't be.''

''Tell me where she is.'' Amy snarled. ''Do that and you'll still die for having that snotty attitude with me, but you'll be doing the world a little good.''

''She wouldn't have...'' Quinn began.

''For fuck's sake, we both know this prick's lying, just relax! Once we clean this up, you know how to retrieve Kieran, and I'm gonna need you to do it.'' Campbell turned back to the man beneath her. ''And as for you... where is she? Don't make me have to go after your kids. That'd really piss me off.''

''You stupid, naïve little girls.'' Stryker was defiant to the last. ''Alex went to live her life. She did her dirty work, she took her blood money and she went home. It's my understanding she went to see you.'' His lip curled. ''I know how you got out of that parking garage – I've seen the bodies that prove it. How do you think she got out? Through the front fucking door.''

Quinn stumbled backwards, shaking her head feverishly, as if she was trying to force it all out. ''She... she recruited me. She recruited you, Amy. She wouldn't do this. Tell me she wouldn't.''

''That's all I'm going to tell you,'' the man said, lifting his chin. ''So go on. Do it. Prove you're nothing more than an—''

The word was lost in a forehand slash of Campbell's intricately carved knife blade, right under the chin and across the neck. Blood sprayed from the man's wound and across the redhead's arm, but Amy didn't notice, turning her attention from the slumping body to Quinn.

''What do we do now?'' the girl mumbled miserably. ''I don't know anything else but this life. And I can't... can't face...''

''I told you; clean this up, find a way to get Kieran out,'' she said. ''I'll find your mom and we'll sort this out. Don't believe a word of what was said – I've learned enough about that recently – and, for the love of God, do NOT discuss it with anyone. What that dick said is between you and I. It's not the truth, but we can't have people getting any dumb ideas.''

''And for once.'' As Amy continued, she tried hard not to let on the growing confusion. ''Listen to me. Fix this scene, walk away and keep a low profile while you work on getting people free. You're good with this, just keep it up and let me find her.''

Quinn nodded mutely. ''I can do that. The, uh... the wife and kid, do we let them live?''

Amy was already walking away, jamming her blade into a concealed sheath. ''I really don't care.''

* * * * *

The lock opened with a sharp click, and the blonde slipped inside, looking once over her shoulder. She'd never get used to that, to having to wonder.

Stepping into the darkened apartment, she breathed a sigh of relief. The lights were unnecessary, and she stepped around the marble countertop with a long sigh, unpinning the wig from her head. She opened the fridge, tossing the false hair onto the counter as she pulled out a bottle of beer.

When she closed the refrigerator, she turned right into a backhanded blow thudding across her cheek and sending her staggering back into the black appliance.

Amy Campbell took a half step forward, bathed in the yellow-orange light of the streetlights outside. Her face was a practiced mask of neutrality, but a little bit of pain crept into the twinge of her brows. ''Please tell me I just hit you for no reason.''

''Amy...'' Alex touched the back of her hand to her lips. ''What the hell is going on? When you didn't come, I was... I was scared I wouldn't see you again.''

''I love you.'' Amy answered, stepping forward. ''That's why you've got the chance to explain why Stryker laughed in my face and swore that you were the one who'd turned, even on his deathbed.''

''Jonas?'' Pierce straightened, hands falling to her side. Notably, the left was balled into a fist. ''Don't tell me you killed Stryker. He was the only one who knew about the deal.''

''Deal?'' Campbell came forward with another right hand – this one blocked aside by Alex. ''You sold us out? You sold me out?''

''I sold them out! Not you. Never you.'' Alex's left fist came up, the right joining it. ''We don't have to do this. It doesn't have to be this way.''

The next time she swung, Amy yelped -- her fist connected with the fridge. ''So you brought me into this lifestyle, you made me everything I am and it was just a fucking cover? You styled me to be exactly what you were trying to take down, and pretended to care for me the whole time. Cost me a normal life. Turning over on the Order is one thing, but you lied to my face the whole time. The whole fucking time. You cost me any chance of normalcy and brought me into a life you fully intended to bail on.''

''It's not like that... just let me explai—unf!'' Campbell drove her fist into Pierce's stomach, forcing out the air.

''I'm through with explanations and I'm sick of your lies.'' Amy's knee rose, thudding into Alex's side. ''Fight back, damn you!'' A two-handed shove sent Alex back into the stove.

''I can't. You know I can't. Not against you.''

''Stop lying to me!'' The fists came back rapid-fire; they were all Amy had that could drive away the sadness. ''I killed my husband to be with you. You let me murder him.''

Alex ducked under the blow that followed, Amy's open palm clattering against the pots that rested there. ''We've done some horrible things, but we don't need to do them anymore. I'm not going to fight you, Amy.''

The Red Raver's hand closed around the handle of a frying pan, and she whipped around with it, missing Alexandra's cheek by a scant few inches. ''You know.'' Amy was breathing hard, the sadness almost suffocating. ''All of my training – all the training you gave me – tells me to just do it, take advantage of your weakness, put you down like the lying whore you are. But I want you to fight back.''

She swung again with the pain, and this time, Alex blocked it with a forearm that went numb. But Pierce's other hand came across, sending the steel pot skittering across the metal floor. ''Then just kill me already.''

''We don't deserve to – '' Amy interrupted herself, foot coming up for Alex's gut. ''We don't deserve to live like this. I want you to fight back because you'll win. You'll beat me and it will be over. I can't live... can't live with you being a lie.''

''I am not going to fight you.'' The blow backed Desade up to the couch, one hand resting against the back. ''So either do it or leave.''

''Oh, you'll fight me.'' Amy pulled the knife from her hip. ''You'll fight me, or so help me, after I kill you, I'll kill your daughter. I will hunt Quinn down, smile, and stick this knife in between her ribs. Just so I don't have to be reminded of you any more.''

''You... you wouldn't.''

The blade came up, blocked by a throw pillow. It shredded the cushion, down feathers scattering everywhere. Alex's fist came through the cloud, bloodying Amy's lips. ''I would,'' Campbell said. ''I would because that's what you made me. Now fight me or every Pierce I have ever known will die because you're too weak to stand up for yourself.''

Alex half-turned away, dropping low into a fighting crouch. ''Don't make me do this.''

''You already beat me to that, Alexandra.''

A forehand slash whistled through the air, cutting a few strands of red as Pierce ducked underneath. Amy released the knife, catching it in a backhand and stabbed downward. Alex skittered to the side, grabbing Amy's arm in passing, firing an elbow into the other woman's nose. When Amy staggered backwards, Pierce's hands on the knife left it in her possession.

Alex whipped the blade end over end towards her former lover, but a quick duck sent it skittering into the darkness of the kitchen. When Campbell looked back, Alex was running towards the window – the same one that opened onto the fire escape Amy'd used to get into the loft to start with.

''Get back here!'' Amy hollered as she followed the woman, tackling her to – and through – the glass onto the steel landing. Punches rained down at Alex like the tears that Amy couldn't hold back any longer. Most of them were wide, wild, missing horribly or blocked by the other woman. Enough connected to force Alex to raise a foot, kicking Amy between the shoulderblades and sending the smaller woman tumbling into the steel.

Thunder crashed in the distance as the Raver got up to her feet, dabbing at the top of her head. Alex raised her fists. ''It doesn't have to be like this, Amy,'' Pierce repeated. ''We can still be together, without the Order to hold us down.''

Amy threw a wild right, a feint meant to be blocked, then reached across herself, grabbing Pierce and pulling her headfirst into the steel ladder. ''I was just starting to like this life,'' Amy hissed. ''I was just starting to get comfortable. But it's all bullshit. All you are is bullshit.''

Pierce wrenched her arm free, chopping both hands forward at Amy's Adam's apple. The blow briefly staggered the smaller redhead, and Alex clambered up the stairs and onto the roof as the rain started. Amy was right on her heels, though, tripping Pierce and vaulting the last few steps to stomp at the back of her head.

''In a way, it's fitting. You're like Dr. Frankenstein.'' Campbell's sneaker connected resoundingly with Alex's jaw. ''Destroyed by the monster you created.''

The second kick was caught, Alex coming to her feet with the smaller woman's ankle in hand. ''I love you,'' Pierce said, tears of her own joining. ''Can't you see that?'' She tossed the woman backwards, Amy landing in a crouch as the downpour started.

''You love what you made me. Your little soldier. Your little fucking puppet. Well, I'm not going to dance for you any more.''

Amy lurched forward with a charge, but Pierce leapt into it, feet-first. She used her own feet as a pivot, sending Amy over her head and off the roof to slam heavily into the metal grate of the lower landing. Alex jumped the steps, falling to a knee beside Campbell.

''You were never my puppet,'' Pierce whispered. ''That's why I love you. I destroyed you, but I couldn't live with what I had made you into.''

Amy cracked a foot into Alex's midsection, staggering the woman backwards, then came up with a forearm uppercut. ''So you decided to throw me away? Do you have some other little fucktoy you want to play with? See if you can avoid breaking this one?''

Alex shook her head, spitting a bit of blood onto the metal. ''I only want you. I went to Stryker for you. The only part of my deal was that we would be free. Just you and me again, the way it used to be.''

''Stop lying! Stop lying to me!'' She charged forward again, driving the Spider back into the window. Both women were breathing heavily, and what breaths did come came as sobs. Amy stood up, smashing the back of Pierce's head into the corner of the wall. ''You just don't want me to kill you now! You're scared that I can beat you.''

''It's the truth.'' Pierce whispered. ''It's always been the truth. We can be together or we can kill each other. There's no middle ground. No—''

The dull smack of Pierce's shin into Amy's leather coat sent the woman staggering back into the loft they'd shared. ''I don't want to kill you, Amy,'' Alex said. ''Please don't make this the only choice.''

Alex charged forward, knee leading, but Amy dropped flat, sailing overhead. Pierce pivoted into a roll across the floor, skidding to a halt beside Amy's Hello Kitty backpack.

Both women's eyes slid down to it, and Amy charged forward as Alex stooped to snatch it up. Pierce lifted it, like a cape drawn away from a bull, hand dipping inside.

She came out with Amy's silenced Glock, pointing it at the redhead. ''I don't want to do this.''

''Are you... are you telling me the truth?'' Amy's hands were up and empty as she struggled to crawl away. ''Do you still want to be with me?''

''I have always wanted to be with you, since the first moment I saw you.''

Amy dropped her eyes. ''Maybe I doubted you too soon. I should have known... should have guessed there was a reason.''

''There generally is.'' Pierce took her finger off the trigger. ''Does this mean I don't need this?''

Amy stood slowly, hands at her side. ''Unless you still want to.''

The gun lowered. ''I never wanted to.''

Amy ran to Alex then, and not like before, not to tackle her. The two women wrapped their arms around each other, and their kiss was a bloodstained, sopping wet one amidst the ruins of the apartment they had shared.

SLURCH

Alex's eyes opened wide as Amy stepped back, a sliver of broken glass buried in the Spider's stomach. When Pierce fell, Amy caught her, gently lowering the other woman to the wooden floor. ''W-why?'' Pierce whispered, fingers gently brushing Campbell's cheeks as they had so many times before.

''You betrayed me, Allie.'' Tears mingled with the blood on her cheeks. ''I can't be with someone I can't trust.''

Amy gently closed Alex's eyes, cradling the woman against her. ''I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry.'' Campbell rocked her slightly. ''It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to end like this.''

She looked around the apartment, at the refuse, her eyes falling again on her backpack. Not wanting to move, Amy Campbell pulled the thing over, reaching into her bag of tricks.

She removed a grenade.

She pulled the pin.

Boom.

* * * * *

Alexandra Pierce sat bolt upright in bed, terror and fear and doubt warring across the battlefield of her face.

Beside her, Amy Campbell rolled over, tilting her head up into the light. ''Al?'' Campbell whispered. ''Al, what's wrong?''

''Nothing.'' Pierce laid back down, and her pillowcase was soon wet. ''Just a bad dream.''

Even when Amy scooted across the bed, for once the big spoon, Alex didn't feel any better.

She wouldn't for a long, long time.