Title: Merely Players (II): Malcolm Girard.
Featuring: Desade
Date: The days after ReV238
Location: Paris.

Professional wrestling is, by and large, a sport for the raucous. By its very nature, it gets the blood flowing; the adrenaline rush of one-on-one combat and roar of the crowd combine to charge the competitors up, so it's no wonder wrap parties for wrestling events tend to end up as drug-fueled bacchanalia, full of bar fights and sexual escapades.

Unless your name is Alexandra Pierce, that is.

Just a day after her "exhibition" match and after a night that saw her impromptu hiring onto PRIME's roster, the GTT7 Champion roamed the grand hall of one of Paris' finest ballrooms, though you'd only know it was her if you were specifically looking â€" and who would have reason to?

The woman in the expensive ball gown with chestnut-colored hair piled atop her head has been introduced several times this evening as Lana Hyannis, though that wasn't her name and nor did she dabble in the textiles industry back in the United States. The man at her side â€" the one with the close-cropped hair, thousand-dollar suit, and devil-may-care expression â€" was not named Roger Edelson, either, but that was sort of the point.

The ballroom at Le Gran Coval was magnificent. Guests entered on the second floor, the foyer opening up to a split-level room, lit by chandeliers that were hand-cleaned each day. The twin marble staircases gently descended to deposit patrons into the bustle and throng. The event was ostensibly a charity auction to benefit child literacy, and it had attracted many visitors just like Hyannis â€" and it was those guests who were the real reason she was here.

"I don't like this," she murmured, not for the first time. "I feel like we're hunting in someone else's preserve."

"It's a simple in-and-out mission," Roger Edelson â€" Malcolm Girard â€" answered, also not for the first time. "They'll never even know we were here."

Malcolm Girard and Alexandra Pierce went way back â€" before Pierce knew of Amy Campbell as more than an oddity on Atlantic Wrestling Club television. Back before Pierce made her return to wrestling, when her focus was decidedly elsewhere. That the two would have Amy Campbell in common likely never occurred to them in their heyday, but then, Alexandra would never have pictured Malcolm as a father.

"You're wrong." Alex lifted her eyes to the taller man in the expensive suit. "They'll know."

"How could they possibly?" Malcolm was a throwback to days of yore, and an old hand at this. "I think you're letting your emotions cloud your judgment."

Alex stepped away, her feet hidden by the folds of her gown so she seemed to float as she moved across the room. "They'll know because I'd know."

He followed, never close enough that they'd be mistaken for a couple. "You're just bent up because she's not here."

"She said she might come."

"But she's not here yet."

"She saidâ€""

"I know what she said." Malcolm tipped the mouth of his glass to a passing clique, offering the same urbane, gentlemanly smile he'd given to so many people over the years that he lost count. Hundreds? Thousands? "But the fact remainsâ€""

The pair's trained eyes missed something, lost in the back and forth of their banter, but they both settled on it in that moment. Pierce stared, and Malcolm had to force his brow down from surprised to a scowl more fitting of the judgmental, higher-class gentleman he was playing. That didn't stop him from slipping up the naming scheme, though. "Alexandra..." He took another drink, watching the same thing she was. "Exactly how much convincing did that take?"

What they were watching was a diminutive redhead coming down the stairs. Amy Campbell was a woman who liked the simple things â€" a jeans and t-shirt gal (or, better still, a pajamas-in-the-afternoon one), and she could be found with her hair up in lazy ponytails, almost entirely devoid of makeup.

But not tonight. Tonight, Campbell floated down the left side stairs, one hand on the banister to help her balance in the two-and-a-half-inch heels of her black velvet ankle boots. There wasn't a lot of fabric above them, in all honesty, and much of it was sheer. It was black, with a skirt just long enough for the event, but not so long that it avoided drawing disapproving stares as she passed. Amy's tattoos were on full display, with even the gloves that completed the ensemble see-through enough that the ink of her tattoo sleeve flowed right into them.

"I..." Alexandra Pierce was at a loss for words. "I don't think I should say what I'm thinking."

"You're probably right." He nodded, and she wasn't sure if his displeasure was real or feigned. "How did you turn her into such a lady?"

Amy turned away from them momentarily, and the dress proved just as small in the back. "Okay. Perhaps 'lady' wasn't the best term." He chuckled. "And that's strange. I could have sworn she saw us."

On her way through the room, Campbell stopped to greet a small group of men, all smiles and... well, skin. "Or she's just not particularly interested in us."

"I think that's meant for me."

"Did you get in a fight?"

"Quite the opposite." Pierce managed â€" with some difficulty â€" to look away, and in the end, simply adjusted her vantage point so she could keep an eye on the redhead. "Still no sign of Yuri?"

"No. Thankfully, I'm more disturbed than distracted by the sight of my daughter in that dress, so I'm still capable of doing my job," Malcolm chided. "But I can't help wondering what Mr. Officer would think of this."

Alex meant to use it to excuse herself. She would have asked him to keep an eye out for their target and signal her when he arrived. She would have, but instead, she said, "Mr. Officer?"

"I don't like him either. Muscle-bound, dumb as a brick and apparently just her type. I can't imagine he's happy about her being in Paris with you, let alone wearing..." In the corner of Malcolm's eye, he watched his daughter in a laughing fit, gently touching a suited man's arm. He chuckled quietly; she'd found the one man in the room who looked most like her ex-husband. The girl was up to something, indeed. The next thing he noticed was the sudden tension â€" that one, tiny twitch in Alexandra's eye. "You didn't know."

Pierce cleared her throat, fighting to maintain her control. "No," she said crisply. "No, I did not." She stepped backwards â€" just a stride, but it was enough.

"Keep your head," Malcolm advised.

"I'm fine. I just need a minute. If... if Yuri shows up..."

The man lifted a hand. "I'll delay him as best I can. Go."

And so she went, offering a plastic smile to a passing waiter as she plucked a flute of champagne from his tray. Her usually silent steps banged heedless against the ballroom floor. Her beverage disappeared before she'd taken three of them, and she turned towards an overlarge plant, allowing herself a moment to drop the mask. Her head dropped, chin to chest, and her eyes closed. Her left hand balled up, lips pursed into an ugly bow. She was so tense, so angry that her body fairly thrummed when she moved.

So pity the poor, slight woman who cleared her throat nearby. "Uh... uh, Ms. Hyannis?"

Pierce spun, already leaning towards the woman. "Not now."

"But I just needed to askâ€""

"I'm sorry. I need to... catch up with me later?" It wasn't really a question; she shouldered past, her steps in rhythm like an army marching to war.

Malcolm was wrong. He had to be, she decided. Mr. Officer (Christ, she hadn't even gotten a name?) was just a friend, someone Amy met somewhere, someone she probably had lunch with, but at a fast food restaurant, not a fancy place. There were no candles, no... no dresses. If Malcolm was right and he knew about it, Amy intended it that way. She was just trying to make Alex jealous. It wasn't serious. It wasn't real. It was just...

It was just working, is what it was doing.

Somehow, Pierce ended up at the line to the women's room, though she didn't remember walking there. There were only three women in queue, but Alex didn't really want to talk to any of them, so she spun away. This was ridiculous. This was foolish, and she was a professional. She'd already messed up in San Francisco, and they might never get another shot here in Paris.

But still. She... she wanted to cry. To scream. To yell and stomp and point and hiss and kill every man in the ballroom, all of them looking at Amy in that... that dress.

Alex saw another man touch Campbell's arm, and this one leaned into her ear to say something. Malcolm glanced to Pierce as he spoke to his daughter, pretending to pull her away. In reality, he was doing them all a favor, and Amy began to cross the ballroom with a quizzical look. Somehow, she survived the walk in those heels, and any other day Alex may have chuckled about that.

When Campbell finally reached her, she cocked an eyebrow and spoke lowly. "Those daggers you're staring through me give the feeling that we should get out of the way and talk for a minute."

"I'm not mad," Alex said in a way that put the statement into question. "I'm not. Just... I don't know what I am."

"Well, you look like steam is about to come out of your ears."

"No, I'm... it's silly."

Amy briefly glanced to the darkened, empty kitchen entry just past the line of washrooms. "Maybe this was a little juvenile, but I can explain this whole... well, why I look good. And why I wanted you to notice." she put a hand to the small of Pierce's back, trying to guide her. "C'mon."

The other woman nodded â€" it was just about all she could manage, allowing herself to be led. She tried to hold onto something, anything in the Hyannis character she'd been playing, and so she clutched up her purse in a nervous gesture that seemed facile from how close Amy stood. "As long as we make it fast," she said through a dry mouth. Even standing so close to Amy in that dress made her heart beat and her palms sweat. "I'm not going to abandon your father to this."

Campbell knew the need for privacy â€" for Alex to retain character, keep any conversation away from outside ears â€" so she led them to some sort of pantry closet. When the door shut and she snapped the light on, Pierce tore away from her grip, nearly sending the smaller redhead into a pastry cart. "Whoa! What the hell, Alex?"

"I just... I wasn't expecting this when we came."

"Wasn't expecting what, that I can clean up and get a little attention of my own? Maybe make you feel like I have at every goddamn one of these stupid galas you have jobs in?"

Pierce put up a hand to stop Amy's rant before it got going. "Hold on a second," she said. "I have never meant to hurt you or make you feel lesser, okay?"

"I felt like the bad guy for a year and a half because I was cheating on my husband, but I watched or heard of you kissing and pawing at a hundred marks. Should I just call this my 'character' for tonight? Maybe go out, grind on one of those guys, make out with someone to get a little info. It's okay when it's just a fucked up split personality, right?" Amy hissed. "I don't want you to hurt, but yeah, this ridiculous outfit, me talking to the random assholes... I wanted to pull some strings. I'm using the same logic my parents did when I asked for a puppy â€" the more you want it, the harder you work for it, the better you'll end up taking care of it."

"What I wanna know," she continued, "Is why I was walking around for a half hour making a fool out of myself, and still couldn't make you want this enough to come and remind me what should be yours. You should be angry. I'm trying to show you this isn't okay, no matter how many fucking wigs you put on it, but you're still probably just thinking of dressing up and getting halfway through a threesome with Drusilla and some mobster on your next job."

Alex stepped closer, crossing the distance between them with a single, stabbing stride. "You think this is easy for me? The only time I even considered doing anything with any of those people was when you left me and toddled off with Jared fucking Sykes, okay?"

"Oh, right. I'm really sorry about that. What was I thinking? I mean, it's not like I found out the person I felt safest around had actually made sure I was strung out on coke again and kept it secret for years. Now, that would've been fucked up. Maybe even a reason to rebound to the closest, sanest thing that didn't hate me. But don't worry, he does now."

Amy's lip curled in a snarl, jabbing two fingers into Alex's chest. Nothing short of a nuclear missile could stop her from unleashing now. "Because I lied. Because I couldn't stay away from you. Meanwhile... oh, right, I had to hear from my fucking father that you and Drusilla were back to playing dress-up. Y'know, 'for the greater good'. Because the only way you seem to accomplish anything is by putting a wig on and convincing yourself that what you're doing isn't real, it's just a part. It's convenient that the part always requires rubbing on some slob or public foreplay with one of your team. Let me get out of your way, since you don't want to hurt me and all."

She pushed past, desperate for some space. Pierce was close enough that Amy grew nervous. It wasn't the proximity alone, but the look â€" the anger â€" that it seemed to be bundled with. Still, she couldn't keep quiet. "You know that Malcolm couldn't even tell me you hadn't fucked around with Devonshire on a 'mission'? He couldn't even look me in the eye. I can't even begin to imagine what you did this year 'on the job'."

Alex's palm struck the wall, the bang of the strike so close it made Campbell blink. "We were over!" Her voice was somewhere between a hiss and a bark, quiet enough not to carry but loud enough that the emotion couldn't be hidden. "We were done and gone and I didn't have any hope that you would even look at me. Was I supposed to hold my breath that you still felt the same way?"

"You didn't have to choose her."

"I didn't have any other choices!"

"It could have been anyone else and I might have understood."

The headshake was firm, fast enough to snap around the wig. "Please. You wouldn't have. It's well and good that you fucked that little shithead less than a week after I broke your heart, but heaven forbid I have a life while you're living it up. Heaven forbid that I not be alone while you bounced from Jared to a half-dozen other dates because you refused to lower yourself down to my level."

If you asked either of them later what hurt the most, it wasn't Alex's voice, even as she lost her pitch control. It wasn't when she gripped Amy's arms, hard enough to distort her tattoos into M.C. Escher drawings. What they both remembered â€" what they both regretted â€" the most were the tears welling behind Pierce's contact lenses.

"I waited for you for almost a year before someone else forced you to let Darcy go, Amy." Her voice grew hoarse. "A year. Yeah, I fucked up and I lied to you, but don't you dare pretend you're the victim here. I gave up everything I had for the chance to be with you. Friends that I would have taken a bullet for hate me now, because you refused to even treat them as human beings. The only person that stood by my side had an obligation to because I gave birth to her."

Campbell rolled her eyes. "Forgive me if the rest of your coven didn't like that someone pointed out how fuckingâ€""

This time, it was Alex that couldn't be stopped. "And then you came back and we were friends and it was fine, but I can't look at you without thinking about how your hair smells, or the sound you make when I kiss you behind the ear. I have a hard time just being your friend, Amy. I can't blot out how it feels to have you sleep on my shoulder."

Her smile was a small, brittle thing, and the first tear touched her cheek, the only one she couldn't stem the flow of. "So when they told me PRIME was coming to Paris, I invited you along. I can't believe you didn't hear me hold my breath when I asked you to meet me. And we came and I hate this city, but I took a chance and I went with it â€" no planning, no scheming, no over-thinking. You can say I was motivated by jealousy or whatever, but I took a shot, and I hoped you'd taken it with me."

"I did!"

"But you're here to make me jealous, to make me guilty, to drive me away. Maybe you're scared. Maybe you really do hate me. I don't know, but I do know you have a warm, soft place to land when you get back to the States, right? What's his name, anyway?"

The question hit Amy like a punch to the gut. She set her jaw, but even she wasn't sure of the expression on her face, and she wouldn't look at Alexandra. Couldn't. Her eyes dropped to where the woman gripped her right arm. She badly wanted to pretend that she hadn't heard it, but the sudden change in the tension betrayed her.

"Just... tell me you didn't sleep with Drusilla. Not as you, not as anyone. She..." Amy still didn't look up, but squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. It was a strange transition, to suddenly see her so small. "I never would have done that to you. She tried to kill me. She almost did."

"This isn't about Dru or that dress or this wig or anything else. I could swear on the Bible my version of events, but..." Pierce shook her head, closed her eyes. Swallowed hard. "But I need to know his name. Your boyfâ€"" She couldn't say the word. It caught in her throat, made her plea thick and gummy. "Please."

"Ryan."

Pierce nodded, tried to smile, but the muscles of her face wouldn't cooperate and made it a frown. "Ryan." She looked away briefly, choked down the hurt. "And he's... he's good to you?"

"Alex, it's not... I haven't..." She sighed. "A few dates in the last month. He's... nice, I guess." Amy said. "And I haven't slept with him, but not for his lack of trying."

Though Pierce didn't move, Amy watched her go deeper into her own head. She tried to speak up to stop it, "Did you hear me? He's just some guy. He's not... especially not nâ€"y'know, why don't you let go of me and see for yourself."

Alex didn't necessarily let go, but her grip was weak, distracted enough by that point that Amy was able to get an arm free without a fight. She reached down the front of her dress, though Alex hardly seemed to notice, and fished out a black iPhone with a wince. "Not a lot of places to keep my phone in this thing," she joked half-heartedly. "And against busted ribs under my bra was probably a bad choice. I didn't exactly anticipate... y'know what, just look at the damn thing."

She held it out in the inches between she and Pierce. "Text messages, a couple of voicemails. Specifically the less-than-stellar bunch he's sent in the last three days since I broke it off," the little redhead deadpanned. "Some personal highlights are the ten or so where he calls me a whore for sleeping with you and not him. Oh, and the one today where he says I'm a cunt and you're a bitch because I explained that I'm crazy about you and there's no hope in hell I'm going back on it now."

The taller redhead closed her hand over the phone, but Amy shook it free, letting her arm fall to her side. "'Whore' I can handle, Alex. You can fire it at me yourself if you want, you already implied it." She finally looked the woman in the eyes. "But the thought that you might have slipped for even a second and fucked someone who tried to kill me a dozen times... I can't deal with that. So I'd like to know."

"No," Pierce said. "I didn't. I never would." Their eyes met, and Amy couldn't hold the gaze. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She held it again when Alex continued. "I'm not going to say I didn't want to." Now it was her turn to look away. "I used to be comfortable being alone. And then when we were together, I... I wasn't alone anymore. I broke your heart because I didn't want to be alone again. And then I was and I deserved it. I deserved it and I wallowed in it, and no matter how lonely I was, I only broke once and the girl I was with paid for it.

"So I was alone again, but I had hope. And the other day... my hopes came true." She shook her head, gray eyes gleaming. "I gave you everything, and you had a fallback plan. You had a fucking fallback plan in case I didn't... in case I didn't, what? In case I wasn't gentle enough?"

"No! I didn't know that was happening! I didn't know why you wanted me here, I just... I fucked up, okay? I should have told him it was never happening the moment I stepped on that plane, but I'm apparently a fucking whore and I just assumed he'd get the picture when I said 'I'm going to Paris with my ex'. There was no fallback plan. I don't do those. I haven't been able to..."

Campbell sighed, shook her head. "I know what you think I've been doing, and you have no idea how wrong you are. I've been on dates, but I couldn't even look at women. I couldn't try to replace you like that. Guys want nothing to do with me because you're all I can talk about. I slept with Jared, yeah, but nobody since... and you wanna take a guess at who I had to think of to get anything out of it?"

"Stop it."

"No." By that point, Amy's eyes had long since welled up, but a tear finally escaped. "Before... before a couple of days ago, I hadn't felt anything since the last time I was with you. That fallback plan of mine? Yeah, he meant so much to me that I had to shut my eyes and think of the night you kissed me in your office just to get through a goodnight peck without throwingâ€""

Alex slammed the heel of her hand into the wall again, harder this time â€" hard enough that the blow dented the drywall. "Stop it!" The shout was loud enough that it surely penetrated the wall. "I waited for you for a year because you wouldn't cheat on your husband, and now..."

"Now?"

"All I want â€" all I've ever wanted â€" is you."

"You've got a strange way of showing it. Not twenty-four hours since we... since things seemed okay, and you took a job. Had to go yourself, couldn't just stay home with me. I was going to tell you tonight. I haven't eaten in two fucking days because I was terrified you'd drop me for not telling you I'd left someone for you. Again," she whimpered. "And I wore this ridiculous thing, spent six hours shopping and doing makeup and â€" and getting horrible messages from that guy I went on a few dates with, just because I thought I'd come here and you'd be playing wife to some gangster fuck, and I wanted your eyes on me."

Amy sighed. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you that I hadn't dashed his hopes yet when we... on the first night here. But you would have stopped, and I couldn't handle that." She extended the iPhone again. "At least look at the messages so you know I'm not lying." Campbell forced a sad smile. "And because it hurt like a bitch to pry it out of this dress."

"I don't have to look. I know you're not lying." Alex's sigh matched Amy's, her shoulders slumping. "When I saw you in that dress, I... look, you have to understand. I love you, but I'm scared all the time that I'm going to hurt you somehow. Part of me says you should be with Ryan â€" or someone like him, at least. Part of me thinks I'm fooling myself, that what happened to Jennie could..."

It was her head that hit the wall then, much softer than her hand, but in the same divot. "This is who I am. I tried to change for you, for us. But it didn't work, and it's never going to work. I can't let Bronze pervert everything that made me what I am, Amy. I can't."

"No names," Amy winced. "I can't hear the name of the one-nighter. It... whatever. You... I understand what you need to do. But there're things I can't put up with if we... if this happens." She sighed again. "Is this even really what you want? I'm a fucking child sometimes, showing up in this... it cost so much, but it's barely even a dress. And I don't even know if you're gonna... if you're willing to respect what I'll ask. But you've gotta... you can't act like I just was earlier. And I'm gonna... I dunno, find something to change into. This is ridiculous. I can... I'll get out of your way."

Alex turned slightly, not moving away from the wall, just enough to catch the other woman with one eye. "You don't have to go," she said. "I like the dress."

"You've got work to do, and I'm just... I understand you not wanting to be around me right nâ€"" The phone in her hand beeped, and Amy growled. "This fucking kid! A couple of dates and he thinks he owns me. I swear to God, between all of this... I'm seriously getting an ulcer or some shit," she said. "I'd worry about a panic attack, but I already can't breathe in this damn thing. Just... you go get back to the people who don't look like hookers. I'm gonna stay in here and pound my head into the door, then kill Malcâ€"uhh, Alex?"

Amy's brows came up. When Pierce crossed the distance between them this time, it wasn't nearly as violent a motion, more sinuous. "Give me the phone," she said, closing her fingers over Campbell's iPhone.

"No, you're busy. I can hanâ€""

"Give me..." She forced Amy's hand aside, pushing the other woman up against the opposing wall. One side of her mouth twisted upwards. "...the phone."

"You don't need to... what're you doing?"

The phone practically fell out of Amy's nerveless fingers as Alex stooped to kiss her, hard and sudden. Campbell took a sharp inhale, eyes widening. "You don't have to leave," Pierce said when they split. "I really like the dress."

After the text beeped, the phone rang. And rang. And rang. And Amy just stared, wide-eyed. "So you do. He... this isn't just some territorial thing, right? And Malcolm's out there somewhere, probably waitingâ€""

"Nonsense," Pierce murmured. "Yourâ€"Malcolm will let me know when Yuri arrives." She swiped her thumb across the face of the phone, putting it to her ear. "Mm... hello?"

"Alex!" Amy whispered, flailing for the phone. The other woman dodged her by turning away and keeping it to her ear, leaving Campbell to mumble. "... not gonna end well..."

Pierce nodded slightly, miming a fairly believable yawn. "I'm sorry," she said. "We have the same phone. Must've gotten mixed up." She nodded. "This is she. Yeah, the girl." Another nod; another pause. Campbell shifted nervously from foot to foot (though she'd blame the boots). "I'm sure you have. Amy? She can't come to the phone right now. But only the phone, you know?"

Campbell was a deer caught in the headlights. "Al, he..." She shook her head and chuckled quietly. "This poor kid."

The shouting was loud enough that Alex pulled the phone away from her ear. "Whoa, there. It was just a joke, hotshot." She paused again, meeting Amy's gaze. "I think... I think I'm her girlfriend now, actually, if she'll have me."

"I think you're right." The little redhead smirked. "And that you're wasting valuable alone time messing with that poor guy."

"Did you hear that?" Alex asked, snaking one arm around Amy's waist. In those boots, it didn't take much to send her into Pierce, squealing. "I'm sorry, Bryan, was it? I have to go. Right now."

She didn't hang up, though, simply set the phone down on a shelf as she cupped Campbell's cheek with her now free hand. Pivoting on one heel in a fashion that would have made Amy jealous if she was coherent enough to have seen it, she slammed the other redhead into a nearby wall. "Did I tell you I like that dress?" she growled.

"I... shouldn't you... Al, the phone's still on," she mewled. "He could hear..."

"Mmhmm." Pierce turned Campbell's face away, finding that spot right behind Amy's ear that made her weak in the knees. "Problem?"

Sure enough, the touch nearly made the smaller woman crumple, her fingers digging into Alex's back. "Aaaaaaahl..." Amy's voice was shuddery. "I doâ€"" Her brows flew up at the brush of fingertips along her thigh.

Pierce's tongue slipped out, teasing Campbell's earlobe. "Too bad he didn't ask where I got off," she sniggered.

"This..." Amy tried to force her eyes to stay open, tried not to lose herself. "So mean..." she swallowed, suddenly lightheaded. She did her best to stay quiet â€" Ryan had already been dumped, he didn't need to hear.

She blinked suddenly, coming back down to earth at the sound of a buzz. Campbell looked at Alexandra, but she was preoccupied with a zipper on the smaller redhead's outfit â€" as if Amy hadn't been worried about showing too much skin already. The buzzing came again. Amy shook her head and swallowed hard â€" that was Pierce's own phone, and she remembered Alex saying something about Malcolm contacting her for... for something. It was hard to recall in her current state. Harder still was getting Alex's attention focused on anything but... well... her.

"A-Al." Amy stifled a yelp when Pierce nipped her neck. She tried pushing her back, but that only made the other woman work faster. "Alex..." Finally, Campbell sidestepped, squirming away from her touch. "Alex!" she said sternly. "Your phone. It'sâ€"gahhhâ€"it's probably... hey, c'mon, hands where I can see! I... I really don't want to interrupt, but I think you're needed..."

Pierce turned for her phone, and Amy tapped her index finger on the red end-call button. "What, uh..." Campbell tried fruitlessly to untwist her dress. "What did he want?"

"Yuri's here." Alex lifted her eyes from the phone.

"Oh. Yeah. Your... your thing." Amy smoothed her hands down the dress, nodding. "No problem."

"And there's someone coming to theâ€""

A knock on the door. "Madame Hyannis?" It was a quiet, softly-accented man's voice, probably a staffer. "Is everything all right? There have been some noises."

Amy turned back, her eyes wide. "Alex..." she said worriedly.

"Lana," Pierce reminded. She tapped the send button on her phone. "Don't worry. I'm a professional."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Follow my lead."

Campbell nodded. "Did... that wasn't just so Ryan would hear, was it?"

"No." Their eyes met again, and Alex's smile stretched. "I meant every word of it. You ready?"

Amy shook her head. "Not really. But when has that ever stopped me?"

It turned out that the mousy little assistant had a key to the room â€" that was the first problem they had to face, since it gave them absolutely no time to prepare. He knocked again, and this time his key fit into the slot and the door opened hesitantly.

"Mrs. Hyannis?" he asked.

These were the moments that Amy Campbell let Alexandra Pierce steer the ship, but she was still surprised when the other woman launched herself headfirst at the wall, arms pinwheeling through the air. Her head struck the wall right at the point she'd struck it previously, and she stumbled to the side, turning a wide-eyed gaze to Amy.

Who just stood there, hands at her side, eyes wide, trying to piece together just where exactly Alex's "lead" was going in all this.

Alex slumped against the wall, one hand holding her cheek as if she'd been struck. "Youâ€"" she cried. "You hit me, you whore!" She lunged for Amy, but it was slower than Campbell knew she could move, and the spindly assistant was able to slip in between them.

"Madame, mademoiselle!" he said. "I must ask you to keep your voices down for the enjoyment of the other guests!"

"Get your hands off me!" Alex lunged again, and this time the man slid an arm around her, and Pierce kicked the door.

"Tu folle!" Amy shouted at her, turning to the assistant. "Jaloux de cet homme..." She shook her head, slipping back to English in case he didn't understand. "The gentleman with her looked at me. I brought her here to calm her down and avoid a scene in front of your guests."

"He's my husband!" Alex pointed out, making her voice even shriller. She flailed, again "accidentally" kicking the door to garner even more attention. "Don't even pretend you're not sleeping with him! Don't you dare treat me like a fool!"

The thin man in the suit struggled to keep hold of Pierce. "Mrs. Hyannis, please! I beg of you to control yourself!"

Amy stepped closer, chin lifting proudly â€" some might say smugly. "I have no idea what you're talking about, of course," she said.

The assistant â€" his name was Porter â€" deserved a medal for keeping his composure. He reached back behind him, stalling Campbell's approach with an upraised palm. "Ma'am, please step back."

"But if I did know," Campbell continued heedlessly. "Could you blame him? You are..." She looked Alex up and down, lip curling. "You are... old."

Alex reached out with a hand, and Amy's progress had been stopped just enough that she was able to slap the other woman across the face, a blow she only partway pulled, but that Amy sold like she'd been hit with a haymaker, turning away. Her too-tall heels aided in her charade, as they caused her to stumble even more.

"You bitch!" Campbell cried, surging forward.

Poor Porter should have failed utterly at stopping both of them, but they wouldn't let him. "I am afraid," he said, and then he repeated it as he forced Alex back. "I am afraid I am going to have to ask both of you ladies to leave."

"I didn't do anything!" Amy said. "You saw! She attacked me!"

"Nevertheless, Iâ€""

Alex's phone buzzed nearby, and she turned away before he could finish, stepping back to pick it up. "Oui?" she asked. Her thumb did quite a good job of covering up the name of the caller. "Ah, Alistair! Un moment, si'l vous plait." She dropped the phone down from her lips, smiling in false apology for Porter. "I am afraid I must take this. Bon soir, Lana."

"Alistair is my husband!" Pierce struggled mightily, but without the other woman to distract him, he was able to keep her in place.

Campbell snagged a flute of champagne off a server's tray as she passed, hoping she could stop herself from blushing long enough to sashay from the ballroom.

"You must forgive me," Alex said quietly. "I seem to have embarrassed myself entirely. I will leave. I am most mortified."

"It's no problem." A sheen of sweat shone on Porter's brow. "I can call you a car."

She shook her head politely. "I have one at valet. Thank you forâ€""

"Forgive me if this is out of line, but might I say, Madame... if your husband has indeed left you for that... that woman then I believe him to be a fool. She did seem of quite loose moral charâ€""

Alex stepped forward, driving her knee between his legs with a violence that surprised even her. Her eyes widened, but she quickly recovered herself â€" and her character. "I will thank you not to speak of my love in such terms, sir," she said archly, spinning on a heel.

The conversation in the room stopped as the crowd watched the argument, and no one said a single word to Alex as she stepped from the room, though surely, there would be some debate about this topic later.

---

Alex stepped outside the hall, her skirts in hand, but she bypassed the valet station, circling the building to a half-darkened alleyway on the side. "Psst," she said, looking over her shoulder. "Hello?"

Amy stepped into the pool of light, some amount of shyness coming over her. "Did that goâ€""

She didn't get a chance to complete her sentence, as Alex crossed the distance between them. Briefly, the thought that someone had followed flashed through Campbell's mind and she prepared to throw down again, but all Pierce did was pin her up against a wall for another soul-searing kiss, one that Amy didn't have cause to fight.

When they retracted â€" for air if nothing else â€" Alex brushed her fingertips against Amy's cheek. "I hope that's the cold that has your cheeks pink â€" I didn't think I hit you that hard."

"I might've oversold, but that shit hurt! Not that I didn't deserve it for the 'old' remark," Amy laughed. "And I wouldn't normally whine about cold, but I'm used to having a little more fabric below the belly button. I could tell garçon thought I was a hooker, didn't he?"

"He might have said so, yeah." It was as if Alex couldn't keep her hands off Amy, like she was afraid it was a dream. "He might also now be choking on his testicles." There was just a little sheepishness to her grin. "Sorry for roping you into my mess. Again."

"I'm sorry for fucking the whole thing up as usual." She shrugged. "My phone's in your clutch, right? I didn't have time to stuff it back in this thing beforeâ€""

A slow, steady clapping coming down the alleyway distracted both women. Amy actually put hands against Pierce's stomach to push her away slightly as Malcolm Girard rounded the corner. Her father was shaking his head, chuckling the whole time. "You two... words cannot describe."

"I think there are words that describe it just fine, Malcolm," Pierce said, an smile on her face as she touched her hand to Campbell's hip. "I hope we were enough of a distraction for you to get the job done."

"My dear, you were enough of a distraction that I could have driven a semi through the ballroom." Girard's smile warred between pride and worry. "I'd say I was impressed, if I were the type to say things like that. So Mr. Officer is..."

"Oh!" Amy exclaimed. "I forgot to thank you for bringing that up with Alex." She'd gotten creative with storage space in that dress, clearly, reaching down the front and to the right. Pierce's eyes followed her hand with particular interest, but Malcolm only noticed when Campbell produced a familiar credit card. "When you showed up the other day and I found out you two were on another job, I lifted this from your wallet. This dress that you're cringing at? You'd be amazed what designer shops charge for something so tiny."

"Howâ€""

"I was gonna give it back tonight, but when Al brought up someone mentioning a guy back in California, it suddenly occurred to me... twenty-eight years of missed child support is a lot of money," Her brows furrowed. "And this outfit you didn't know you paid for has me feeling awfully girly... I actually think I'll take some time to shop tomorrow. It's Paris, after all."

"You've spent far too much tiâ€""

"Also, I'm not speaking to you."

Malcolm could only laugh. He turned to Alex after a moment. "She's picking pockets now? I don't think I can live through another round of you two..."

"She's actually not a bad pickpocket. But... it's different this time," Alex said unhelpfully. "We are different."

"I see."

"I very much doubt that." Alex lifted a hand up, working at her wig. Dexterous fingers freed her natural hair quickly. "She's not going to get hurt if that's your worry."

"We'll have that discussion some other time," he said. "I'd rather not be the one to get the call that she's in hospital with pneumonia on account of too much time outdoors in that outfit."

"Not that I'm agreeing with him," Amy pouted. "But it's fucking cold when you're nearly naked out here."

Alex nodded, sliding an arm briefly over Campbell's shoulders. "We're staying at the... at my loft."

Malcolm raised a brow. "I thought I'd heard you never go there."

"You heard wrong." Pierce took the other woman's hand (which was like an ice cube). "Come on. We'll turn up the heat."

"I'm going to choose not to read into that." The older man stepped back. "I'll have the item looked at and get back to you with what I find."

They made their way to the car, Amy leaning a little more on Pierce's shoulder than she had to.

But she could be forgiven.

---

In the morning, there came a rapping, a rapping on the door of that apartment on Rue des Trois Frères. A gentlemen whose hair was graying along the temples huddled himself into a long coat straight out of a William Friedkin movie. Malcolm Girard frowned at the thin red door, unresponsive to his charms. The knocking became a pounding, his fist shaking the number bolted to the wood.

Girard was just about to shout, to call for the two women residing within when a pair of bolts were thrown in rapid succession and the door cracked open, held in place by a sturdy security chain. "It's early, Malcolm," the woman on the other side said, tightening her terrycloth robe at the nape of her neck.

"The Alexandra Pierce I knew could live on three hours sleep and be up to spit at the sun."

"The Alexandra Pierce you knew was ten years younger than I am."

Malcolm glanced down the gentle curve of the street. "Might I come in?"

"Do you have something from Yuri already?" Her brows rose. "That wasâ€""

"Can I come in?" he repeated. "I'd hate to draw stares."

Their eyes met, blue on gray; Alex's held a question she wouldn't ask, but Malcolm's were flat, unreadable. "Fine," she sighed, closing the door long enough to unlatch the chain. "But hurry up. Your daughter is still sleeping."

"I was counting on that," he tipped his head to her as he stepped past, hanging his coat on a rack by the door. "Everything is still in process. Anything we're to know won't come out until morning," Malcolm said, raising a brow to an antique clock in the living room. "Proper morning â€" the one Amy tends to sleep through. We'll have at it then."

"Mm." Her lips pursed, peering up the steps and over the balcony. "Since I gather you're not here to make use of my French press, that would mean you're here for another reason entirely." She gestured towards the settee. "Something unrelated to the investigation. Surely you don't expect me to not know what that would be."

He chuckled. "I'd never take you for a fool in your ability to assess a man's motives, Alexandra. Though other areas have recently left some room for argument."

"You could offer me a drink, you know." Girard continued. "Or ask me to get to the point. I'm sure you can imagine I'm hardly thrilled with what I saw when I arrived in Paris. I'm curious to hear how you explain away what you did."

"What I did?" An undercurrent of anger tore through her words. "I didn't doâ€""

Malcolm settled into the couch, crossing his left ankle over his right knee. When he looked up to the robed Spider, one brow arched. "Please, Alexandra. Don't kid a kidder. We both know what I am talking about."

"I rather doubt we both do, Malcolm." She glanced to the kitchen. "We don't have much. I haven't kept food for, but we stopped at a bodega on the way back. There's water, PowerAde... perhaps half a bottle of soda? I can fix you something to wet your whistle while you tell me which of my dastardly schemes of mine you've uncovered now."

"I'll pass. Thank you, though," the polite smile he offered nearly spilled over with sarcasm. "Took you a moment and a little coaxing, but it's nice to see you didn't forget your manners. With that out of the way, it won't be too troubling to politely explain why there's a girl asleep upstairs."

As with everything about her, Alex's brow furrow was a small, subtle thing. "A girl..." She sighed, tightening her left hand into a ball. "I think there's a girl sleeping upstairs because she's fucking tired, Malcolm."

"â€"Politely, Alexandra. You're a parent as well â€" give me the courtesy."

The second sigh was sharper. "I love her, Malcolm. Isn't that reason enough?"

"Not as much a reason as it is a problem. You invited her, and I don't doubt you had ideas of what you'd say when you got her here." With a sigh of his own, Girard lowered his head. Some of the formality seemed to fall with his shoulders. "She was out, Alex."

"You make it seem like I planned all of this. Like I laid it all out on paper, weighed the odds and prepared the scene."

"Didn't you?" He looked up briefly, and he seemed more tired than he used to be. Older. "She was out," he repeated.

"No, she wasn't."

"Yes, she was!" He didn't quite shout it, but there was a weight to his words. "She was free."

Pierce shook her head, eyes closed. "She wasn't. We know Kathryn is â€" was, now â€" involved with Bronze, and you and I both know that means Amy wasn't out. She was on the outskirts, sure. But when that he brought the hammer downâ€""

"She wouldn't have been standing next to you."

"You're right." It was a simple admission. "And I'm not going to tell you I didn't hope things would be work out between us. I'm not going to tell you I didn't pray for it or whatever. But she's a grown woman, capable of making decisions on her own."

"Not about you, she isn't. You know that. You know that."

Pierce blew out a sigh. "What do you want me to say, Malcolm?"

"Kathryn hates Amy, but the farther she was from you, the less valuable she would have been to her. To Bronze. To anyone," he said. "As if your own girl wasn't a target enough, you've thrown mine back into the packaged deal for anybody who wants to twist you."

Girard heaved another heavy sigh, but he looked her in the eye that time. "And I've no illusions that my disapproval is going to stop either of you â€" I don't know that anything could stop either of you â€" but now we've got things to square away, you and I."

She was staring at the upstairs balcony, searching for signs of movement. "I know it does." Her smile was small, and not a little wry. "If this means you're pulling out of the investigation, I'll understand."

"And give up the perfect position to make sure you do right by her? Not a chance." He leaned forward, elbows to his knees, hands clasped together. "You have a habit of not being particularly honest, in case you weren't aware. If I'm to watch this train wreck over again, I expect answers. Answers and changes."

It wasn't much of a response, but Pierce leaned back, arms folded, and raised an eyebrow. For his part, Malcolm met her stare and continued. "Every time she and I have spoken in the past few months, she's asked me about you working with Devonshire. I made no assumptions because I don't know you well enough. I think Amy's the only one who knows who you are anymore, but I do know she's shaky about you enough to be afraid of what might have happened," he said. "She wouldn't forgive that, you know. I don't know that I would. Be honest with me, because Drusilla tried on more than one occasionâ€""

"Why does everyone think I have slept with Drusilla?" She combed her fingers through her hair, still messy from sleep. "It didn't happen, Malcolm. It. Did not. Happen. I'm not going to say I wasn't tempted â€" if she's tried with you, then you know she can be quite persuasive, and I was lonely. But..."

They were quiet then, two old friends still adjusting to new roles â€" to girlfriend and father. "I know I'm no good for her, but she's all I want in this world, and, dammit, why can't that be enough?"

"It can't be enough because that girl you want so badly is the only one blind enough to trust you fully," he snipped. "And that's good news about Drusilla. That means you shouldn't have any objections to her being assigned to me from here on. Your... relationship... with Amy doesn't need that kind of strain so early and, if you'll pardon the language, I don't trust the little cunt not to put a knife in my daughter while she lies beside you. That would make, what, the fifth time she'd have tried to kill Amy? For Devonshire's safety and for this damned investigation, I chose to lose count when you made the call to bring her in again."

"Would you rather have me trust Randall and his band of merry men? They have no idea what Bronze can bring to bear, and that manâ€""

"That man is not the point, Alexandra." Girard rested both elbows on his knees, his hands clasped. "Nor is he the problem. Yes, Randall is a duplicitous, self-aggrandizing jackass, but so are you. So am I. It is the nature of this business, and you brought my daughter back into this, into a world where you willingly work with a woman who is far worse than both of us combined."

Another glance upstairs. "Two of them, but she doesn't know that Kathryn is in custody, either."

"So you have lied to her."

"What?"

Malcolm raised both brows, leaning back in the couch. "You haven't told her everything. She doesn't know Randall has Kathryn in his little playpen. If you're going toâ€"if this is going to work between you, you can't hide things from her."

"And how do I bring them up? 'Say, would you like some milk for your coffee, oh, and by the way, a woman you hate probably more than anything else in the world is wearing a prison jumpsuit in a hole somewhere in the New Mexico desert'?"

"Of course you wouldn't say that. She's lactose intolerant." He smirked slightly, but the expression went sour a moment later. "But you tell her. Show her. She'll demand to know eventually, and keeping her in your bed but holding her at arms' length in the rest of your world will only make her buck back, harder to protect than ever. There's one tidbit you might want to avoid volunteering, though."

"And that would be?"

"You're forgetting who was on the other side of your earpiece when you told Drusilla the... events at the hospital with your daughter had, what was the phrase, 'woken a part of you that had been asleep for too long'?" Girard's tone was flat. "You put that part back to bed. I'll handle cleanup from here on."

"You've avoided getting your hands dirty sinceâ€""

"My preferences in this situation don't matter much," Malcolm interjected. "I protected her for years without being a part of her life. You can't." he said. "And there's one more thing..."

Alex simply waited for Girard to continue. He was as stubborn as his daughter when he wanted to be â€" there was no gain in interrupting.

"I can support you two," he said. "I will support you two. For Christ's sake, I'm even willing to work with the girl who wants my daughter dead more than anything on Earth, just so she's less likely to drive a wedge between you two. However, I don't think I need to paint a picture of what happens if you betray her again. Or what I'll do if either of us lets any harm come to her because you couldn't keep her away."

There was no threat in his words, no threat, explicit or implicit. They'd known each other long enough that such things weren't necessary. Alex simply nodded, curling her legs beneath her. "I know," she said, looking away briefly. "I won't hurt her, Mal. I'd die first."

"That's what I'm worried about."

"I wish you were the only one of us whoâ€""

The fact that neither of them heard Amy Campbell awaken, not to mention slip down the stairs and creep across the room, was a testament to how focused they were on the topic at hand. That they didn't even notice that she was behind them was proof positive that the little redhead had picked up a thing or two in the two and a half years that she'd been in regular contact with these people.

One moment Malcolm and Alex were talking, walking the line from friends to father-to-daughter's-lover. In the next, Amy appeared over the back of Pierce's chair, twining her arms around the other woman's neck. "Hey..." Campbell murmured. "It's early for the yelly."

Alex stiffened briefly before leaning her head to the side, touching foreheads. "Sorry we woke you," she said. "We may have gotten a little… a little carried away."

"You didn't wake me," Amy circled the couch to slump down beside Pierce, resting her head in her lap. "Had a nightmare, got worried when you weren't there... then I heard voices. Did we botch something tonight at that ball?"

"No, no." Alex took the other woman's hand in hers, pressing her lips to the knuckles. "We did fine. Your father and I were just... catching up on things."

"You mean you were talking about me." She turned her head briefly, opening one eye to peer at her father. "Nothing bad."

Pierce laid her hand on Campbell's stomach. "Nothing bad."

"You did fine." Malcolm leaned back, crossing his ankle back over his knee. "If ever I need to smuggle a nuclear bomb into Congress, I know who to call."

"I'm still mad at you," Campbell huffed. "But did she offer you a drink or anything? Weâ€""

"I'm fine, thanks." Malcolm smirked â€" it mirrored his daughter's, to no surprise. "My daughter has manners, hm?" He winked at Alexandra before turning back to Amy. "You didn't happen to decide the fate of my credit card by any chance?"

"I'm not gonna spend your money," Amy sighed. "I felt badly enough about the dress tonight."

"Then who made a six hundred dollar purchase AFTER the dress?"

"I don't know. Heard my evil twin has fantastic taste in sneakers, though." Amy grinned, tipping her head back on Pierce's leg to look the other woman in the eyes. "You two were having the 'Don't screw her up' talk, weren't you?"

Alex smiled down, brushing the bangs off the other woman's face. "Got it in one." She tapped the other woman in the nose.

Her father shifted uncomfortably, his brow furrowing. "I was simply telling Alexandra that Iâ€""

"That he will support us going forward," Pierce interrupted, finishing the sentence for him. "That he won't stand in the way."

That much got Amy to sit up. "What did you threaten him with?"

"Nothing," Alex said. "I didn't have to."

Malcolm's thin-lipped smile was flat, barely a quiver. "I am not going to pretend that I'm pleased by this turn of events."

"And why the fuck not?" Amy was immediately defensive; she'd been ready to fight about it since the moment it all started.

"However," her father interjected. "I know her feelings for you are strong, and she's a damn sight better than people you could have chosen. I have my reservations, but... I can overlook them. Love isn't perfect."

Alex reached across her body, her hand on Campbell's arm. "It's okay. He just doesn't want me to hurt you, but I told him it would never happen."

Malcolm's calm, sudden gaze on Amy spoke volumes. "I'd rather avoid seeing either of you hurt."

"The hell's that supposed to mean?"

"Perhaps that I know a little more about you than you'd like."

That drew daggers from the smaller redhead's stare. She jolted forward out of her seat, just barely stopped by Pierce's hand on her wrist. Campbell balled her fist, and Malcolm moved to apologize, but Amy forced the tension away. "I'm going back to bed," she said. "Let the door hit him on the way out."

"Amy..." Alex sighed as the little redhead wrenched free, making a lot more noise on the way up the stairs than she had on her way down. "Dammit, Malcolm." Pierce stood. "I know you people think that this is all about the illicit or the thrill of it for me, but I love your daughter."

"I know you do." He flowed to his feet as well.

"And she loves me."

"She does."

"Then what the hell is the problem?"

His smile was immediate, though Alex would long question its authenticity. "Nothing," he said. "I've overstepped, obviously. I will be in touch once my people have decrypted the information we lifted from Yuri."

"You don't have toâ€""

He didn't turn back. "I'm afraid I will be late if I don't go now. Other things to do, you know." He started for the door, tipping his head to call upstairs. "Have a good day, Amy."

"Still not talking to you," came the reply.

Pierce didn't show Girard out, padding back up the steps. She found Amy sitting on the floor, her back pressed to the railing. "I wouldn't do that," Campbell said, not looking up. She hugged her knees close. "I'm not going toâ€""

"I know you're not." Alex extended a hand down. "And I think he knows it, too. Come on."

It took a second prompting â€" Pierce's hand jutting forward, fingers beckoning â€" before Amy laid her palm in the other woman's, allowing her to be drawn to her feet. "I just wish everyone would stop thinking we're going to end up hurt," Campbell murmured into Pierce's shoulder, as if she herself hadn't had those same worries.

"I don't know," Alex sighed, slipping her arm around Amy's back. "I hate it, but I'd hate it more if they were right."

The two of them shambled into the bedroom, the world's slowest three-legged racers. "They're not," Amy said emphatically as they climbed into bed.

Alex followed, taking her rightful place as the big spoon in the pair. She pulled the sheet over them both. "And we'll show them."

"Yeah." Campbell interlaced her fingers with Pierce's. "We totally will."

And yet, as they laid together, both watching the red numbers on the digital clock on Amy's bedside and the sun fought through an overcast morning, they were still thinking, not of what harm may come to them, but of what harm they could bring to the other.

They were happy, sure. Together after over a year apart, certainly. Committed to each other, indeed.

Terrified of what would happen if they were wrong and everyone else was right, without a doubt.
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