Title: Merely Players (III): Kathryn Shaw.
Featuring: Desade
Date: ReV 240 vs. Seymour Almasy
Location: New York and New Mexico

The redhead pushed off the table, one hand pressed to the pockmarked wood, her left foot flashing out. The top of a pink and black sneaker caught the other woman â€" a tall, shapely brunette â€" in a sculpted cheekbone, snapping her head to the side. The brunette tumbled back and to the left, falling backwards from a short cot and onto the tiled floor.

Her attacker landed on both feet, her grin wide and her neon red hair free flowing as her victim scrabbled to the side, using a nearby conference table to regain her feet. The redhead followed up with a second kick, this one to the chest, and the brunette toppled again, taking the table with her. Stale cookies skittered on the ground.

That was when the yelling started, and a klaxon soon followed. Two burly men grabbed reluctantly at the redhead's arms, but soon realized they couldn't be gentle about it, wrenching her away kicking and screaming. "You think this is funny? You think my life is funny?" she spat.

The other woman got to her hands and knees behind the table, taking a long breath before she crawled into the open. Blood dripped from the corner of her mouth, but still she smiled. "Actually, yeah." Kathryn Shaw pulled herself up with help of the upended table. She forced a laugh, knuckling her lips. "I do. So if you've gotten that aggression out of your system..."

"Well, when you put it that way..." Amy Campbell stopped fighting, her jaw set and her eyes narrowed on the other woman, still somehow so put together, so calm in the face of it all. "I guess I don't have a choice, do I?"

"I guess not." Shaw picked up a paper napkin from the debris on the floor, touching it to the corner of her lips. "Now run along andâ€""

The thing to remember about Amy Campbell was that she'd been fighting professionally since the age of eighteen; that made ten years of experience, most of it against men significantly bigger than her. The two burly men in button-down shirts should certainly have kept that in mind. They should have held tighter when she seemed to relent, because Amy might have been a lot of things, but she was not a quitter.

Campbell stomped on the instep of the man on her left. He cried out in surprise, letting her arm go. Alex Pierce might have been known for her fancy, dexterous karate moves, but Amy was no slouch. She pivoted on one foot, sneaker squeaking against the tile. Her other foot lashed out at the second man's kneecap, and he staggered under the blow, right into the knee she delivered into his breadbasket. With one hand on the man's pants and another on the back of his shirt, she pitched the second guard into the first, sending them both tumbling to the floor in a mass of arms and legs.

"Hang on a second..." Shaw lifted both hands, stepping backwards but finding little room to move. "We don't have to do this."

"We've had to do this for a long time, I think."

Another kick came, but Shaw was able to step aside, dodging it but not the backfist that followed. Amy chuckled darkly, stepping in behind the bombshell. The chokehold she applied wouldn't have won any awards, but it did its job, and even her meager weight was enough to overbalance Kathryn, sending both of them down.

Shaw struggled to pull Amy's arm free, her hazel eyes wide. "Amy..." she gasped. "Amy, p-please."

"Begging doesn't work on people who're sick of your plays and don't want to fuck you," the redhead sneered, driving a knee into Shaw's ribcage. It drew a howl, and the laugh Campbell followed up with was slightly sinister. "For fuck's sake," she growled, sending another knee to the ribs. "Just pass out already, will you?"

"Aimâ€"khkh..." Kathi clawed at Amy's forearm. "Donâ€""

That the two burly guards had more than a little difficulty prying Campbell free was proof of the little redhead's surprising grip strength, and Shaw's eyelids were just starting to flutter when reinforcements arrived. The first man through the door was a blond man with sharply angled, vulpine features and a straight-out-of-boot-camp crewcut. His name was Nicholas Lee, and the two men struggling with Amy both looked up to him with some amount of deference.

"What the hell?" Nick demanded. "I knew this was a mistake. Quit pussyfooting around!"

The man to Amy's left knelt, frowning as he tried to find a place to get a better grip. Campbell shifted her gaze up to him. "Come near my face and I will bite off your finger," she said solemnly. "I swear."

"Jesus Christ," Nick growled, pushing the men aside. "Let me do this. I swear to fuck, this has all gone to shit sinceâ€""

"Since what?" the voice came from the door.

Amy expected it to be Alex, expected to find the tall redhead leaning in the doorway, arms folded, a wry expression on her lips, as if she were amused that her wacky, temperamental girlfriend flew off the handle again. She already had an excuse ready â€" a dismissive, halfway-joking comment to pierce that veil of anger.

She didn't expect the speaker to be Alex's new boss, however. The Center for Espionage Research and Interpretation's head honcho was a man they only ever called Randall â€" there was no indication whether that was his first name or his last. He was almost a head taller than Alex, with too-long arms and a face that seemed wizened without being old. His command was delivered in a soft voice laced with an indefinable accent (Southern or Texan, maybe) and, if the men had shown Nick Lee deference, what they showed in Randall's presence was much closer to fear.

"Get off'a her," he said as he approached. Randall wore blue jeans â€" not the designer ones, but actual, doing- god's-honest-work jeans that whispered around his boots as he stepped close. He was just missing a piece of hay in his mouth and he could pass as an extra from the Dukes of Hazzard.

The two guards rose from their crouch immediately, but Lee was a little bit slower, and it looked for a moment like Randall was going to cuff him before he stood, his eyes downcast. "Go get a medic," Randall instructed, and they complied.

"What now?" Amy asked. She'd loosened her grip when the men stopped wrestling with her and once she was sure Shaw was unconscious. "You going to glare at me until I let go?"

"Naw," Randall said, and his smile was disconcerting. He seemed like he'd already played the entire game of chess and decided he'd win. "Figure that's a job for your lady-friend there in the doorway."

Alexandra was now leaning in the doorway with her arms folded and a worried cast to her lips. She stepped forward carefully, keeping her voice light. "How did you know I was behind you?"

Randall stepped back slightly, presenting Campbell with an uninterrupted view. "Surprised you didn't beat me here. I'm not as quick as I used to be."

Alex didn't answer, her arms swinging back to her side as she neared, stooping into a crouch. "Amy?" she asked the other woman. "Amy, let her go."

"Why?" Campbell asked. "I mean..." She paused to re-tighten her grip when Shaw's words came back to mind. "I mean that truly â€" why? She does nothing for the world. There's nothing compelling me to let go..."

"You said you could control her, Alex." Randall sounded like a disapproving father, stern and trying to hide his disappointment.

Pierce looked back over her shoulder. "You did your research, Randall. No one 'controls' her." She smiled back down at the other woman, trying not to let the strain show. "There's me. Amy... I don't want you to become like me. I don't want you to have to go to sleep thinking about her. She's not worth it."

It was only a few more seconds, but it felt like an hour while Amy sat there, still locked onto Kathryn, staring up at Alexandra. She felt the wave of warmth, even shook her head against it because she knew Pierce needed to be more Desade to deal with those people. But Alex had asked her â€" and asked her honestly â€" to relent. That was Alex asking, the Alex only she knew, and she was begging more than anything. Campbell couldn't handle more than a few seconds of that look before she threw Shaw back to the ground, cracking the brunette's head against the tiles hard enough to draw a trickle of blood.

She stood, breathing out a sigh â€" she could have sworn she saw Alex do the same â€" and looked to the strange man in the room. He was amused, and it was sickening to know that look was because Pierce could control her. For whatever reason, whether it was fear or embarrassment at what she could have just done, Amy had to hold back tears when she swallowed and looked back to Alex. "We'll save that talk for later."

Randall had already stepped back, and he barked down the hallway for a medic. "Great. You two have been here for ten minutes and already my prize prisoner is probably gonna be sent to a hospital. Anything else you wanna break? Got a first edition Huck Finn in my office you could spill some coffee on."

He stepped back into the room, watching the two redheads, both silent. Somehow they stood side-by-side but weren't together. "Randall," he said, extending a hand. "I like to imagine I'm the sheriff around these parts."

"That's... kind of..." Amy didn't take the hand. "Wow. You're serious with the whole Walker Texas Ranger crap, aren't you?"

"So it'd seem." Randall responded before Pierce could cut in. He glanced to the side as the medics bustled into the room to check. "I don't know what your girlfriend here's told you, Miss Campbell â€" she shouldn't've said a goddamn thing, 'cause I wouldn't give you the clearance to see House spoilers â€" but we're doing real important work, trying to save people from people like Kathryn Shaw, an' she knows stuff that I wanna know."

"Randall, please." The taller woman's tone was frosty as she came to Amy's defense. "She's not your enemy. I'm certain that your medical staff will give the care she deserves. Are we done? Because if we're not, I'd continue this outside this room. Kathi may be a loathsome thing now, but I don't think anyone here particularly wants to watch."

Amy looked briefly to the side. "Can you stop calling her 'Kathi' like she's your friend? Maybe he'd take you more seriously, particularly considering I just choked the life out of her and we're supposed to be, y'know, kinda close."

"Butâ€""

Campbell raised a hand. "Not trying to fight. Just... this asshole's got me on edge. I feel like I'm about to be arrested, and that prick that brought me in here is giving a serious 'back to the kitchen' vibe. These guys don't give a shit, Al. He just cares that Shaw 'knows stuff' that I bet he done gots ta find out," she spat. "Maybe get his dick sucked in the process, the cowboy piece ofâ€""

"I have had it up to here with your stuffy-ass attitude." Randall hardly ever raised his voice, so the shout drew some looks from the paramedics as they hefted Shaw onto a gurney. "You don't like what we do, fine. That's your right. I'm an old dog and I've been kicked plenty. But you will not stand here in this building that I have scratched and clawed to keep the lights on in an' tell me that I am the bad guy when you came in here and damn near strangled a woman toâ€""

"Randall." Alex's own voice lifted, not quite matching his, but coming near. "We're done."

He snorted. "You decidin' that now? Come down to New Mexico, kill the only thing you've ever brought to this table?"

"We're done, Randall." Pierce's brow rose infinitesimally. "We are. I fulfilled my bargain, and you will purge the rest of the files to complete yours."

"You've spent a goddamn long time gallivanting about, but other than using my people to rescue Kieran Whitechurch and capturing Kathryn Shaw, you haven't got a damn thing to show for it."

Wrestling's Red Raver was hardly known for playing the quiet bystander, so it was no surprise that she took steps toward Randall at that challenge. "I'm sorry, what? She hasn't done enough?" He opened his mouth to respond, but an outstretched finger nearly jabbing him in the nose closed it, leaving his eyes free to roll when Amy continued. "Shut the fuck up for a second and think about who needs your motivational speech more, because I'm pretty sure it was your people who couldn't pry a girl under a buck-fifty off your fucking 'prize prisoner'."

The man backed up into the hallway as she berated him, his frown in place â€" or maybe that was just his face. "I asked my guys not to hurt you if you stepped out of line. Figured that might not exactly endear me to your galpal here."

"I should think not," Pierce said, turning her head just enough to watch the paramedics push a stretcher up to the door. "The deal is done, Randall. We agreed for a trial run, but I am not one of your men in black. So fulfill your end of the bargain and we can work together on this. The enemy of my enemy can still be my friend."

Randall grunted. "You've got somewhere else to be." It was the closest to giving in that he ever came. "Nick is putting together a team to escort her to the hospital."

"I want to be on that team," Alex said.

"Absolutely not." He leaned one shoulder against the wall, digging in the inside pocket of his jacket for a crumpled red-and-white box of Marlboros. "You've got some other place to be," he repeated.

They stared for a long moment. "You're serious," she said finally. "You can't send someone like Nick toâ€""

"I am." He nodded fractionally, digging a matte-black Zippo from his pants pocket. Its skull engraving glimmered in the fluorescent lighting. "Nick Lee is an asshole, but he knows his work, and he doesn't bring his girlfriend into a secure government facility only to have her strangle somebody."

"She's a government prisoner now? This is how the United States of America operates?" Amy folded her arms beside Pierce, chuckling. "And quit with the dismissive girlfriend talk or that stick in your ass might end up with company."

The man waved a hand through the air. "This whole situation was convoluted when we started and it's just getting more an' more mucked up," he said irritably. Behind them, paramedics raced the stretcher down the hall. "Look, Miss Campbell. I don't really have time to explain all of the in's an' the out's of this, so I'll beg you ladies to excuse me so I can run a damn taskforce. Next time you're coming, Agent Prince, you might want to leave the civilians behind."

It wasn't until he was out of earshot that Alex turned, coming her fingers through her hair. "Come on."

"Al, Iâ€""

"Not here. Just..." She turned, taking both of Amy's hands. "We can talk about this, I promise. Just not here."

Campbell sighed, nodded. "Fine." Pierce started off in the other direction from the way the men had taken Shaw. "This... didn't exactly go the way I'd hoped."

"Really?" Amy asked, trotting after. "What was your first clue?" She leaned close. "What was it I said when you told me about this crazy idea of yours?"

That was the story of how Kathryn Shaw ended up on an ambulance on the way to Christus St. Vincent Regional Medical Center.

She never made it, the ambulance hijacked by two masked individuals with submachine guns. The assailants absconded with the injured Shaw, and left Randall and the Center for Espionage Research and Investigation empty-handed.

But that's not really the story here. Let's back up the truck.

---

Eighteen hours earlier.

"So is it wrong that I love Jenni?" Amy Campbell asked. She stacked a pair of hotel bed pillows behind her, banging her thumb against the volume button on the remote. "Like... she's me with breast implants. This one time, they were out andâ€"are you even listening to me?"

The life of a professional wrestler meant a lot of time spent in hotel rooms â€" time enough that they become as much a home as your very own house. This particular hotel room was in New York City, just outside of JFK International Airport. Campbell and her partner were here on their layover from Europe, and Jersey Shore blared from the tiny television.

Alexandra Pierce emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her head and a white terrycloth robe draped over her shoulder. "Have you been talking this whole time?" she asked, one eyebrow up. "Even when the shower was running?"

"I get lonely."

"I was gone for five minutes."

"Eight, actually."

"You counted?" Alex bent at the waist, unbinding the towel atop her head. "That's a little bitâ€""

Amy rolled onto her side, head propped up in her hand. "You went in right before the show started."

"Because that show is terrible."

"It's not!"

When Alex straightened, her hair falling in dark, damp ringlets around her face, she was flushed and she was grinning. "Did I miss anything?"

"The usual cuddling and conversation you bolt from," Amy mumbled, shifting to slip back under the covers. "But you're still the most obsessive, efficient showerer I've heard tell of. My hair's half the length of yours and I still need at least a half hour in there."

"Okay, first of all, you sort of get used to quick showers in my line of work, and I didn't shampoo. And second..." She let the towel to the carpet, run-jump-bounding onto the bed beside Campbell. "I do not bolt from cuddling, missy."

The smaller redhead's brows stilted. "You forgot the 'conversation' part."

"Aim, we talk all the time. We just spent seven hours together on an airplane." Alex frowned gently, curling onto her side. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Pierce propped her head up in her hand, her frown deepening. "I missed more than just the conversation and cuddling part, didn't I?"

"Seriously, it's nothing," There was a pause, then Amy sighed and reached for the remote control, changing the channel to an infomercial Pierce would be more likely to tolerate. Then came the obvious... "Just... you've gotta go again soon. We take another plane, we go to California, and then you're gone."

"And you're afraid I'm not going to call? That I'm going to go to Italy and... meet someone? My very own Elisabetta Canalis?" Alex tapped her finger against Campbell's nose. "It's 2011, Amy. I'll bring my laptop, and it has a webcam and Skype. I'll be gone just a fewâ€""

"You've got the online personality of a robot, Al. But maybe I do worry about that..." She sighed. "And what's in New Mexico now?"

Pierce blinked slowly, like Amy had suddenly started speaking Dutch. "I'm sorry? New Mexico? What'sâ€"I did miss something, didn't I?"

"My fâ€"Malcolm called. Just wanted to remind you to 'bring your carry-on'."

"My..." Alexandra's mind doesn't work like most, and sometimes Amy imagined she could actually see the neurons firing in the gray seas of her eyes. "He said that? Those exact words?"

"Actually, he asked what I was wearing." Amy's eyes rolled. "Of course he said those exact words; I did the little air quotes with my hands and everything. I'm not that terrible at your spy stuff."

Alex sighed. She rolled away, her fingers trailing along the sheet Amy was buried beneath. "I swear I was going to tell you," she said, picking up her phone from the nightstand. "And before you freak out, I promise it's not bad."

"Al?" Amy sat up, putting her hand on Pierce's back. "Al, you're scaring me a little."

Alex started speaking so quickly that it didn't seem possible that the call had even connected. "It's me. I need a change made."

"Who are you talking to?"

"New York to Albuquerque. As soon as possible." She glanced over her shoulder. "Just email me the confirmation."

"I love the open communication in this relationship. It really feels fantastic to always be kept in the know like this." Again, Amy's eyes rolled â€" only this time, she rolled with them, away from Pierce, wearing an overblown pout. "To think, I used to get mad when Darcy forgot to tell me he was going for wings after hockey practice."

Alex dropped the phone on the bed, pivoting on the bed. "I'm sorry. I was just... okay, this is going to sound a little strange. But I have to go visit someone. And Iâ€""

"Am I supposed to play guessing games?" Campbell sat up, facing away on the bed. "You have to go somewhere and put on some stupid wig, right?"

"Not exactly. I have to go to New Mexico to... to talk with someone. Someone that my boss â€" who is also based in New Mexico â€" is not going to want me to talk to."

Amy glanced over her shoulder. "This is me not caring what stupid guy you're going to have to kiss up to for Malcolmâ€"and, by the way, who the hell is based in New Mexico of all places?"

"It's someone in federal custody, so don't worry about me kissing up to people."

"Still not caring."

"It's Kathryn."

"Still notâ€"wait, what?"

Alex slid up off the bed. "It's nothing." She rubbed at her ear, not glancing back. "Just... right before we got together, we arrested Kathryn and they're keeping her in lock-up in a facility in New Mexico."

"I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say. Since when do you arrest people for the government?"

"It's... something of a freelance job. Several months ago, I met a man named Randall, and he offered me a job, help in taking apart what's left of the Order, in keeping Bronze from... from whatever it is he's hoping to accomplish. I agreed in exchange for certain concessions, and weâ€""

"Concessions?"

"Autonomy, mainly. That's not important. My point is that your father found out that they'd graduated past using codes. The information we got in Paris â€" the thing we got from Yuri â€" it uses code words, too. And the only person who I know who might have the most recent dictionary is Kathryn, and I need to find out what they are withoutâ€"" Alex broke off, shaking her head. "Nevermind. It's a little bit complex. What I'm saying is this."

She glanced over her shoulder again, a grin blooming on her lips. "Want to come to New Mexico with me to see Kathi in prison orange?"

That got Campbell to roll over and face her. "But it's not even my birthday."

"Yeah, and I didn't get you anything for your birthday this year, did I?" She looked up, smile stretching. "There might be a Christmas present involved, too."

"How am I supposed to top this? I didn't get you anything this year either."

Pierce shrugged a little, laying her hand on the doorknob. "Did you keep that dress?" She grinned briefly, if salaciously, glancing down slightly. When she looked up, there was more honesty behind the expression. "I haven't told you the best part."

"There's more than that?"

"Mmhmm. The Christmas present part."

"Well?" Amy Campbell hated surprises. "What is it?"

Alex opened the bathroom slowly. "It can wait."

"Pretty sure it can't." Amy crossed the room. "You have to tell me now."

"Well..." Pierce pretended to consider her words. "Our flight is a little bit later, and we're going to have to connect to get to Albuquerque."

"And?"

The taller woman looked over her shoulder into the bathroom. "That means I have a little bit more time before we have to go, you know? Maybe time enough to wash my hair, this time. Take a real shower, not just a military one."

"I should be more offended that you're using Shaw to get in my pants," Campbell smirked. "But there's no time for that. That shower's pretty slippery, and I'm sure PRIME would appreciate it if you had a spotter to avoid any falls."

Give her credit â€" Alexandra's innocent expression would have been entirely believable was she dealing with almost anyone else in the world. "I would never use something so deep-seated as your hatred for Kathi for something as crass as my own needs." Her smile was quiet, though, and she held the other woman's gaze. "But I am a little concerned about that half-hour shower thing. I mean, I might miss a spot."

"Uh-huh..." Amy stepped in close. "And you'd like me to help out? In... in the name of hygiene, of course?"

"In the name of hygiene."

Campbell brushed her thumb down Pierce's arm, rocking up to whisper in Alex's ear. "You should tell me what else there is, then."

Gooseflesh sprung to life along the taller woman's arm. "I, uhh... wow." Pierce swallowed. "You certainly have picked up a few things, haven't you?"

"Bits and pieces. Enough that I can guarantee I'll have that info you've got within the hour."

"The... hour. So it will takeâ€"" Shuffling footsteps forced Alex back into the bathroom and up to the shower. "It'll take a whole hour, then?"

Amy nodded, reaching past to turn on the showerhead. "I figure it might," she said. "Just give me something to work with. You're already going to take me to see Shaw behind bars. What could be better than that?"

"Well, I was thinking, and I'd have to check withâ€"I'd have to check into it, but..."

"But?"

Alex sighed, brushing Campbell's hair aside. And she told her, said the six little words that made Amy's heart skip a beat. "I think you might have to... hit her."

"Sometimes I really do forget why we broke up."

That was a night that Amy Campbell and Alexandra Pierce were glad they brought so much clothing with them on their trip, since their own clothes ended up in a sodden pile on the bathroom floor.

---

Santa Fe, New Mexico

The name on the side of the building read, "Sandia Industries," and from the parking lot, it didn't look like much, just a flat, squat two-story building jutting out of the desert. There'd been a man at the entranceway, a snub-nosed, thick-necked man who scrutinized Alex's identification a little more closely than Amy might have expected.

"So this is it?" Campbell asked as they climbed out of their rental. She slid thick, bug-eyed sunglasses over her mismatched blue-and-brown eyes. "It looks like... it looks like an office building."

"It is an office building." Alex was dressed up for work, in a pantsuit for the first time in quite some time. This one was red, though, a deeper, fuller shade than either woman's hair color. "That's sort of the point." Her steps snapped against the asphalt, strides quick enough to prevent Campbell from stopping to gawk.

"Wait. They have Kathryn in an office building? You promised a prison." Amy picked up her pace. "And what's this Tara Prince thing?" She snatched Pierce's leather wallet, folding it open. "That's an awful picture of you, by the way."

Alex opened the door, plucking her ID from the other woman's hand. "I promised she'd be in custody."

The same logo that was on the building was behind the receptionist desk, and a slender man with close-cropped hair smiled in greeting. "Miss Prince, you're here. Made good time again, I see. I'll call Erica up to meet you."

"That's really not necessary," Pierce demurred. "I know the way."

The man simply nodded, and Pierce led the way past the desk. Amy followed for a moment before darting a hand out to snag her by the arm. "I hate the pantsuits, y'know. They scream 'stereotypical lesbian'." She chuckled. "But I forgive you. I love that you can be any name in the world, any person, but I always get to be me. Is it weird to take pride in that?"

"It's not, because you're fundamentally you," Alex said, tossing a smile to the side. "These people report to the government. The payroll department prints up paychecks with our names on it. It would look weird if one of those checks said, 'Alexandra Pierce' on it. 'Hey, isn't that the wrestler?' they'd ask. Questions that might not be well-liked in answer."

She pressed the down button on the elevator, her smile stretching into something else. "And I like the pantsuit. I feel dressed up."

"You could be dressed up without wearing a pantsuit, you know."

"I feel weird being dressed up in a skirt. It's unnatural to be officious with the wind on my legs." The taller redhead slid a pair of thin reading glasses over her eyes. "And keep up your jokes, missy. We'll see what they get you."

Amy shook her head. "What's unnatural is for those legs to be in pants. Trust me, I've gotten to know them â€" they don't want such a stuffy fate. Speaking of suffocating... I get to be alone with Shaw, yeah?"

Pierce glanced down the hallway, then up to the light above the elevator. "Yeah," she said. "They won't want you to be, because they'll be afraid Kathryn will push your buttons."

"Which she will."

"Which we're both..." A soft bong announced the arrival of the cab. "Which we're both counting on her doing, yes. But Randall won't meet us personally, and if you insist on it in that way that only you can, they'll relent."

"That way only I can?" Amy's plucked eyebrows stilted as they boarded the elevator. "What does that mean?"

"I'm going to decline to answer that on the grounds that it might mean my legs won't come to know you tonight." She hid her smile, briefly taking the other woman's hand. Her eyes lifted to the corner of the elevator, and the black half-globe up in the corner that concealed a camera. "Just don't hurt her," she said quietly. "There aren't medical facilities here yet, and I don't think either of us wants to see Kathryn in a body cast."

"Speak for yourself," Amy said. She didn't have to be told about the eyes watching her â€" she had picked up a few things over these last few years, after all â€" but she squeezed Alex's hand in thanks nevertheless. "Why are we going down and not up?"

Pierce smirked â€" an expression she rarely utilized. "Because the Sandpit is downstairs."

"You really work in an actual, real life secret underground government base and you never thought to tell me about it?"

"How was I to know you'd find that interesting?" Pierce straightened, her hand dropping away as the cab began to slow.

"Okay, smartass. And just how angry should I expect them to be about you bringing me?"

Alex lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "He sent Erica, which means it's not too bad. As long as you behave."

"And if I don't behave?" Campbell turned briefly to the other woman. "We're not talking about me ending up in Guantanamo or some shit, right?"

"If Kathi ended up in a converted office, I think you'll be fine unless you plan on killing her."

The diminutive woman stared steadfastly forward, silent.

"Amy..." Alex said. "Tell me you're not actually consideringâ€""

Campbell didn't move her gaze. "Like it'd be so bad. Or anything you haven't already done."

Whether Amy meant it or was just playing for the camera, Pierce couldn't say, but the words still prompted a response. "Don't even. That kind of thing changes you. You won't be fundamentally you anyâ€""

The chime resounded again before Alex could finish, the doors parting to reveal a slight, Hispanic womanâ€"little more than a girl, reallyâ€"with curly, mahogany brown hair. Erica Baptiste was twenty-two, but she looked like she was seventeen, and she didn't dress up because it made her look like she'd raided her mother's closet. The jeans and an NYPD sweatshirt didn't make her look any older, however, and neither did the high ponytail she wore her hair.

"You were supposed to wait upstairs," Baptiste said. "So I could give the tour."

"I don't need a tour," Pierce pointed out. "I work here."

"Randall wanted to show off the place." Erica gestured to the interior, all cramped hallways and low ceilings. "Such as it is. At least let me give the abbreviated version."

"I want to see her," Alex said. "Not to show off."

Baptiste shook her head gently. "He wants to see you first. Then they'll bring Shaw in to see you."

Amy's brows stayed stern. Even she wasn't certain what she was planning, but it couldn't get in the way of her making a decent first impression. "Not much for introductions?" she asked. Her definition of a proper first impression changed for these people.

Erica turned, her brows up. "Sorry. So used to the grindstone, I forget there's an outside world." She shifted her burden â€" just an old-fashioned wooden clipboard â€" from her right hand to her left. "Agent Baptiste, CERI." She pronounced each letter individually. "I assume that Agent Priâ€"that Ms. Pierce has explained what it is we do here?"

"If you assume that, clearly you don't know her that well," Campbell said quietly.

"The Center for Espionage Research and Investigation is tasked by the Department of Justice to obtain real-time background on the activities of certain parties that do not represent the interests of any particular nation."

"Such as the Order of St. Julian," Alex put in helpfully.

"No, I thought they were talking about spies who work for the RIAA." Amy cut her eyes back at the other woman. "I knew who she meant, Al."

Baptiste's eyes bounced back between them. "From here, we organize the activities of people, using hard-copy research and face-to-face interviews toâ€""

"Yeah, I'm already bored." Campbell lifted a hand. "You have Kathryn Shaw here? In prison?"

"This isn't a prison," Erica explained. "Ms. Shaw is in custody, to find out what she knows about the remnants of the... of the organization Alexandra mentioned."

"In custody. So she's imprisoned. But not in a prison." Amy's tone was flat when she turned to Alex. "You guys are all equally awful at human interaction, aren't you? Can you use your secret language of official lameness to ask her to let me go in now?"

The corners of Pierce's lips twitched downwards, but Campbell couldn't decide whether she was suppressing a smile or a frown. "Give her a break, Amy," Alex said. "She's new at this, and I scare people."

"I don't need you toâ€"" Baptiste began. "I mean, I am new at this." She flashed a smile, a burst of pride in her voice. "Nine months out of Quantico. And you don't scare me." She turned her eyes down to Amy. "As I said, Randall doesn't want anyone toâ€""

"Do I look like I work for Mr. Randall?" Amy all but planted her hands on her hips.

"It's just Randall, andâ€"no, but he was very clear that no one was to go in there until Alexandra sees him."

"Does he know she brought company? I can't imagine he's interested in holding that meeting with me there."

Baptiste's brows knitted. "I mean, he knew that you'd be there, but I am sure he expected you to wait outsiâ€""

"He expected me to wait outside? While Shaw is locked away in another room?"

"I'm... not certain what he expected you to do, in all honesty. I know I am supposed to take Alex to see him, and then Kathrynâ€""

Amy pressed forward, a bull in the conversational china shop. "I'm not going to sit in the waiting room. Al..." She glanced over her shoulder to Pierce, notably silent. "You promised me I'd get to see Kathryn behind bars, didn't you?"

"I... yeah, I did, but Amyâ€""

"If they bring Kathi to Randall's office, that denies me the... the feel of seeing her behind bars, even if they're not literal ones."

Pierce backpedaled slightly, letting Amy take the lead. "It's the same thing. You'll get to go home afterwards, and Kathryn will be on a cot in an office. You can't hold me to the letter of the promise."

"I can when my alternative is to sit in a waiting room reading magazines like we were at a doctor's office. Al..." She drew out the word as she turned fully, brushing her thumb and forefinger along the lapel of Pierce's blazer. "You promised."

Alex shifted her eyes away, glancing to Erica. "Feel free to help me out whenever you want, Agent Baptiste."

The young agent grinned. "You seem to be doing fine all on your own." At Pierce's imploring stare, she relented. "I guess... I mean, if I take you to see him, then someone else can take Ms. Campbell to Ms. Shaw's cell, and afterwards, you both can come to Randall's office."

Amy finally offered the stranger a smile. "Well, aren't you clever."

Baptiste shrugged, an almost shy gesture. "Anything for love or whatever." She glanced over her shoulder. "Just... let me get someone to escort you, okay?"

"Great," Campbell said. "We'll be right here." She watched the other woman stride briskly away, not glancing back to the woman at her side. "How can you not feel horrible doing this?" she murmured.

"Hm?" Alex put her hand on Amy's forearm, slide-stepping in front as she took the other woman's hand. "What do you mean?"

"Like... when you do this to people. Twist them. How do you notâ€"" She lifted her eyes to meet Pierce's bespectacled gaze. "She's going to blame herself. Later, after... she's going to think it was her idea, and we walked her right to it."

"Yeah, we did."

Amy touched her forehead to Pierce's shoulder. "How do you feel good doing these things?" she whispered.

"Usually don't."

Alex might have said more, but Baptiste reemerged with another too-young agent, blond man with a square jaw and Captain America features. "Amy Campbell, this is Nicholas Lee. Nick, this is Amy, Alexandra's... friend."

"Whatever." He shrugged diffidently. "You just want me to take her to see Shaw?" Erica nodded, and Lee stepped backwards, gesturing past him. "This way, then, I guess."

The two redheads separated reluctantly, hands coming apart last. "Amy?" Alex asked. The other redhead turned, eyebrows up, and Pierce continued. "Be careful, and don't... don't do anything crazy."

"I promise." One of the smaller woman's brows quirked. "Nothing you wouldn't do."

Pierce nodded, swallowed. She hoped the Amy she saw afterwards would still be the same. Still be... still be Amy.

They went their separate ways, Alexandra following Baptiste to Randall's nearby office and Amy trailing Lee down the labyrinthine path to the makeshift cells. The other man didn't seem interested in conversation â€" he was distracted and irritated and silent the whole way.

It was just as well, because Amy's mind was somewhere else right at that moment.

Eventually, they got to the door â€" the plate on it labeled it G-26 â€" and two burly men in ill-fitting button-down shirts that fairly screamed, "prison guard" turned with some interest. "Here we are," Nick said.

"Great." Campbell forced a smile. "Are you coming in?"

"Nah." He was already walking away. "Other, actually important things to do. Steve and Danny are here if you need anything."

Amy nodded, resting her hand on the door handle. "Here we go," she whispered, pushing inside.

---

The thing to know about Kathryn Denise Shaw was that she really was attractive. Alexandra Pierce and Amy Campbell were nothing to sneeze at, with good bone structure and the kinds of bodies that were honed only through the type of exercise that professional wrestlers endure. But Kathryn Shaw was hot in her own skanky way, and while she didn't have a face that would launch a thousand ships, Kathi had a body that had certainly launched a thousand erections.

What we mean to say by this is that, even as Amy Campbell entered the converted office that served as Shaw's cell, even with the tawny-haired minx in federal custody, she still looked good. Shaw sat cross-legged on a green, military-use cot, and the expected orange jumpsuit wasn't there, replaced by jeans and a low-cut blouse.

Shaw was reading Neil Gaiman â€" American Gods, to be precise â€" a dog-eared copy most likely borrowed from a library. Her shoulder-length, light brown hair was loose over her shoulders, and a smile stretched across her lips, squinting into the light of the hallway.

"Is it that time already?" she asked. "Come to be amused by ribald tales of derring-do with men who should haveâ€"" The teasing sentence stopped dead once Campbell flipped on the light. "Oh, it's you," she said icily.

Amy spun around one of the chairs at the conference table that dominated the middle of the room. "Hi."

Shaw closed the book, folding back the page corner she was in, and she flowed to her feet. "I guess I should have expected this eventually. Have a seat."

"Just a second." Amy kicked the chair back against the wall, standing on its seat to give her the height she needed to tug out the wire on the security camera.

The bombshell followed the smaller redhead with just her eyes, kissable lips pressed together like a line. "Oh. It's like that, is it? Come to bully me into telling you something that I haven't told Randy's adorable little squad of do-gooders?"

"No," Amy said simply. "I'm actually a little disappointed you weren't more surprised to see me."

"I had a lot of time to sit in here and think, you know." Shaw didn't get up, resting her elbows on her knees. "Eventually, I knew they'd decide I was holding back and find a way to get me to tell them. It was fifty-fifty whether they tried to do it with chemicals or intimidation. I have to tip my hat at them picking you, though. That must have been a hard sell. 'Amy, I've been secretly working for the government all this time. Will you interrogate my former associate to get some juicy details?'"

"Wow, so they have been keeping you a while, huh?" Campbell slumped down backwards in the chair, arms folded over its back. She rested her chin on her forearms, still smiling. "Wasn't too tough. She kinda just came out of the shower and sprang it on me, and I'd just woken up afterâ€"atheeeere's that look I was hoping for!"

Kathryn was past master at controlling her expression, and so the irritation faded into the amused façade that she wore most of the time. "So you're back together. That's adorable."

"Mhm." Campbell's smile was almost proud. "So then she tells me that, guess what, I get to see you as a prisoner. Better yet, I get to hit you. How could I pass that up?"

"She said that. That you get to hit me."

"She did. And I figure it's â€" well, have you ever seen How I Met Your Mother? They had this thing with Neil Patrick Harris' character where he was owed a certain number ofâ€"y'know, forget the explanation. How've you been?"

Shaw's brows lifted as she looked over the converted office â€" which clearly hadn't seen all that much conversion. "I was on top of the world until your sweetie and Drusilla tricked me into going after a man who could have hurt my... my boss very much. It's the same guy they're trying to say I blew up, but I didn't do that. Now I'm in a cramped office, and those two guys outside are way too stick-in-the-mud to even have any fun."

"So the guards won't let you jerk them off, and you didn't kill anybody. Who did, then? I mean, I didn't even know why you were brought here, but if someone's dead and I know Alex doesn't... doesn't do that kind of thing anymore, and if this guy was such a threat to your 'boss'..." Amy rolled her eyes. "I'm pretty much killing time here, but I'll take a shot; who killed the guy, and who's your boss? Oh, and I doubt you'll need to worry much about Drusilla anymore."

Kathryn lifted three fingers, curling them away as she answered the question. "I don't know who killed him." She lowered her index finger. "My boss goes by the name of Bronze, but I'm sure you already knew that." Down went her ring finger, leaving just her middle finger. "And I would never count Dru out."

"Nice move, but don't be so sure about that last part. I'm likely to be more of a problem for you, and I'm not even involved. She won't be working directly with Alex anymore."

"Who then?" Shaw lifted her brows in thought. "Malcolm? Mal said he'd been considering a new partner the last time he stopped by, but... our meetings aren't usually very talky. Like I said, the other boys around here are a little uptight, so it's always nice to see a familiar face. Or, you know..." Kathi leaned back on her hands, tossing out her hair. "Familiar other things."

"You're fucking with me. You'd have no way of knowing..." When a bit of the color drained from Amy's face, Kathryn cocked her head. She'd hit something tender, just wasn't sure what, and the reaction was endlessly amusing. Particularly when the redhead shook her head and furrowed her brows. "I know you two don't fool around."

The brunette's smile stretched, perfectly candid and perfectly... perfect. White teeth. Straight. No hint of derision in the expression. But her eyes were dancing. "Okay, okay," she relented. "Maybe not so much since they checked me into this particular no-tell motel, but I have been in here for some time, so I've had to be... creative... in my imaginings, and he is quite good, as I'm sure Lexi could testify."

Amy squeezed her eyes shut, head tipped downward. She forced herself to breathe slowly â€" in, out, in again. "This is your cue to stop."

"Oh, come on, Aimers." Though her attention felt random and haphazard, Kathi was as keenly observant as any of them, and her focus was always on the emotional buttons that she played like a fine grand piano at the hands of a master. "You have to know that your Lexi hasn't always been on that side of the fence. I mean, she's got a seventeen-year-old child, for crying out loud."

"Hey! Idea!" Campbell stood and strode with a surprising speed. Maybe she was even a little relieved when it was only a backhanded crack, not a full-on punch. "How about you shut the fuck up when it comes to some of the few things that I know more dirty details about than you? And I don't need to hear about you fucking around with my dadâ€"my..." There was another backhand when she realized the slip. "About Malcolm."

Shaw touched her knuckle to her lip, and she couldn't hold in her surprised laugh. "Malcolm is your father?" she asked. "We are talking about Malcolm Girard, right?"

"It's not funny." Amy's fists balled at her sides, teeth clenched.

"I think it kind of is."

"And he and Alex never... God, he really... I mean, you?"

Kathryn's shrug was dismissive. "Men have needs, Amy," she said, explaining it to Campbell as though she were a small child. "Sometimes, when Mommy and Daddy have gone a long time without being together, Daddy has to step out and make a booty call..."

"Tell me you didn't just try to talk about my mother," she sneered. "And I wouldn't know, Darcy never made one."

"No, he was perfectly innocent. Almost gallant." The derision never appeared on Shaw's face, but her voice faintly dripped with it. "God, I would have loved to wipe the smug off of him."

"But he turned you down flat." Amy tried not to soar with pride for that, she really did.

The stretching Cheshire grin seemed made to make Campbell's blood boil. "But you'd already sacrificed the purity of your marriage on the altar of Lexi's tongue."

"Y'know..." the redhead seethed. "I'm done regretting that so much. It's brought me so many new opportunities, like permission to do thisâ€""

Amy pushed off the table, the sole of her left sneaker colliding with Shaw's high cheekbone. Even though she should have been expecting it, Kathi still pitched ass over teakettle, tumbling over the cot to the hard floor. Campbell followed up with a second kick that sent Shaw back into the table, taking a table full of cookies with her.

That was what started the scuffle that ended with Shaw strapped to a stretcher and speeding to the hospital.

Even though it went exactly as the two redheads had planned, Amy would later call it the best plan ever.

The aftermath? Not so much.

---

There was a time that Alexandra Pierce had a lovely estate in the New Mexico high grounds. It was palatial, with a high, fenced-off yard and a long, curling driveway. It even had a name â€" Kindred Spirits â€" and Alex had used it as a base of operations since the days she and several others engaged in the conspiracy to seize control of the National Wrestling Council.

Many people would cite the death of Lauren Fox as the event that started a chain in motion that these people would never forget. They would forget about the murder of a man named Cambrian at that New Mexico estate, because that's what really started the ball rolling down the hill.

It was after his death that Alex sold the property and moved to Oakland. Even though flying that close to the flame was dangerous, the loss of her friend rattled her and made Amy the only person she could lean on. The affair with Campbell woke up Alex's heart, and the death of Cambrian forever cracked her icy façade.

But still, she sold the estate, so as the two women waited for news of Shaw's breakout, they did so in a small one-bedroom apartment just off the campus of the University of New Mexico. It was dingy and dimly lit, and it smelled faintly of ammonia. But it was quiet, and at least the Chinese food from the place nearby was decent.

Still, it smelled, and the only thing more distracting than that was the fact that Alexandra Pierce was pacing.

"I wish you'd stop that," Amy said, curled around a rickety stool, digging into a carton with a pair of chopsticks that hadn't quite separated properly.

"I'm sorry?" Alex paused only briefly.

"Doesn't do you any good to pace."

"I know."

"So why do you do it?"

Pierce shrugged slightly. "It makes me feel better. I count the steps. Distracts my brain."

"In a way that talking to me couldn't?" Amy grumbled and tossed the chopsticks into a trash basket nearby, picking a chicken ball out of the little box by hand. "You're making me nervous."

"That makes two of us." Despite her objections, Alex stopped, leaning her forearms on the countertop. "I should be there."

Amy frowned into her box of General Tso's Chicken. "Why?"

"Because it was my idea. Because I shouldn't ask someone else to do what I won't. Because..."

"Because it's better than being here? You've barely looked at me since we got back."

Alex lifted her eyes. "That's not fair."

"Neither is the silent treatment."

"I'm not giving you the damned silent treatment." Pierce combed her fingers through her hair. "There's a reason your father was able to move off the field and I wasn't." A sigh hissed through her teeth. "You would've done it, though, wouldn't you?"

Campbell tossed her food back onto the counter and reached across the little table to grab her phone. It was easier to fiddle with text messages when she was nervous, looking down to the screen as she unlocked it. "Done what?"

"Killed her." Alex cut her eyes up to the anxious woman. "Kathryn."

It was rare for Amy to be precise with her words, but that's exactly what happened as she stood up, pocketing her phone and heading for the fridge. "I think so, yes." She fished around and finally snatched a half-emptied bottle of lemon gin, letting her hand linger on the cap without opening it.

"Why?" Alex followed Amy with just her eyes.

"Because I regret not doing it earlier."

A frown creased Pierce's brow as Campbell lifted the bottle, swirling what liquid was left around. "Ah," Alex said, watching keenly. "I'm not saying she doesn't deserve it, but... I guess I just... I thoughtâ€""

"You thought what?"

"That you didn't have that in you."

"I didn't the first time I tried." Amy replied while reaching for a glass from the cupboard above. She strained up onto her tiptoes, but still couldn't quite make it, sighing when her feet fell back to the tiles. "Hey, can you..." The question trailed as she gestured to the shelf holding the cleanest looking glass in sight.

Alex nodded, circling the kitchen island. She didn't have to reach very far â€" those few inches meant the world â€" touching her hand to the small of Campbell's back. "You don't have to... to do things like that, you know. Never do. Not for me."

"It's not that selfless. I want to. I want them all gone, as far away from you as I can make them go." The response came as Amy squirmed at that slight touch, setting the bottle down on the counter. She reached for the same glass Pierce did, but Alex held it just out of reach. "Her, Drusilla... I... it even feels like Lauren's still there. I'd murder her ghost if I could." She stretched again across Alexandra's wingspan. "C'mon, you know I can't drink from the bottle if someone else did, give meâ€""

"I don't want you to have a drink just because you're uncomfortable." Pierce's whisper was gentle, soft. "And I'm... I appreciate the thought, but they didn't make me a bad person. I can't... I don't want to see you live with this â€" this hole in you that I have. I'm still trying to crawl out, Amy, but I'd dive right the fuck back in to keep you or Quinn from getting dirt under your fingernails. If anyone's going to kill Kathryn, it's going to beâ€""

"It'll be me." Amy said. "I couldn't handle hearing that it happened without being witness. You'll probably hate me for it, because as long as any of them are on your mind, it haunts anything you and I could be together. And I'm begging you to stop acting like every person you've ever hurt doesn't scar me, too. Just give me the glass? The whole sober shtick has had a good run, but it's been five and a half months andâ€""

Alex turned away to lean back against the counter. "I don't... is that really a good idea? You're an alcoholic, Amy. Kathryn isn't worth your sobriety. You don't beat people like this by letting them get to you. You don't beat them by sinking to their level. You don't beat them by becoming them."

"I'm not aâ€"did you seriously just call me that?" Campbell bristled, pushing forward toward Pierce, almost threatening. "She's not taking anything from me, and I don't have to beat them if I end them. Give me the damn glass."

"No." Pierce closed her hand over the neck of the bottle. "You see that? That's the Amy I know. That's the Amy I love. You don't need that gin to beat her, and you do not need to kill Kathryn or Drusilla or anyone. You want to be mad at her, fine. Great. She fucking deserves it. But I am not going to let you become something you despise just because you think it will be over if you do. Because it will have just begun, and I won't let you become me."

"It's getting closer and closer to the point where you won't be able to stop me."

Alex pulled on the bottle, her eyebrows beetling. "Don't say that," she said. "Don't you dare say that. I will walk right out of this apartment right now. I love you, Amy. But I swear to God, I will disappear off the face of this earth, do you hear me?"

"For them, or for me? Because 'I should be there' sure didn't sound like it was for me. All that pacing wasn't for me. Pulling me off of her wasn't for me. Give meâ€""

She wouldn't, and that gave Campbell pause â€" but only briefly.

"They're your fucking life â€" your real life â€" and I've only ever been that happy place that skirts the fringes of it. You wouldn't keep diving back at the slightest tug if they didn't mean so much to you. Now giveâ€""

Amy finally darted forward, getting close enough to shove Pierce with her entire body as she laid hands back on the bottle. The force had surprised Alex â€" maybe even frightened her a little â€" and it was enough to get the gin back into Campbell's possession. She ignored the glass, ignored her actions and tried to escape the whole thing, storming toward the apartment's single bedroom. "This is fucking pointless."

Alexandra Pierce made her bones in the sport of wrestling for two reasons â€" her brain and her speed, and as fast as Amy Campbell was, Alex was there before the door slammed. She was there fast enough that she got her hand in through the door â€" fast enough that, when Campbell slammed it shut, it didn't close on fingers but on forearm.

Still, that was enough to make her cry out, in surprise and in anger. "Goddammit!"

When the door bounced back and Pierce shouted, it tore something not in her, but the redhead whose temper dealt the damage. Amy stood and stared, arms limp.

At least she did at first. "The fuck is wrong with me?" If Alexandra's pain wasn't enough to shock the smaller redhead out of her mood, the involuntary reaction of smashing the bottle against the wall was, but Amy didn't so much as whimper when the glass shattered against her hand. She could only come forward, reaching to Alex with tears and regret running down her face. "Al? Al, please don't beâ€"please be okayâ€""

Her arm cradled against her, Pierce sunk down against the wall, her breath hissing through her teeth. "I'm fine," she said. "It's not broken. I'll be... I'm fine, Amy. Don't be mad."

"Not mad at anyone but me." Campbell hadn't even noticed the blood dripping from the tips of her fingers when she dropped down beside Alex, reaching for the arm she was terrified she'd injured. "I don't know how to... I... what do I say? I didn't mean to..." She choked on a sob. "Sweetheart, I'd never..."

"Never." Alex took Amy's uninjured hand with her own. "I will never be mad at you, Aim. You could close nine hundred doors on my arm, and all you'd have to do is smile and I'll still be here." She winced, touching her hand to what was sure to be quite the bruise. "On second thought, how about we don't do that?"

Campbell tried to smile. "I won't. I... do we need to take you to the doctor? I can call anâ€"" She tried to stand, but Alex thoughtlessly reached out with her bad arm, grabbing Amy's bad hand. "Ah!"

"Don't go anywhere," Alex moaned. "Just... stay."

They touched foreheads. "I'll stay."

"'Sweetheart,' huh?"

"I... I don't ever say..." Amy fumbled over her words, embarrassed, and finally noticed her bloodied hand.

Unfortunately, it was around the same time that her father saw it.

In the commotion, Malcolm Girard entered the apartment with a guest behind him. Amy didn't notice either, until one of them was headed full-tilt toward where she and Pierce were huddled, staring daggers into Alex. "What did you do?" he roared, yanking Desade up by the arm. "I knew you'd end upâ€""

His fist was balled, but his daughter came to her feet unsteadily, blocking him with a look that would tell anyone she planned to fight. There was no mistaking that her loyalties were to Pierce and Pierce alone.

"I..." Girard steadied himself, lowering his head. "Perhaps I was too harsh." He let go of Alex, but Amy remained in front of him â€" only moving away when he tried to grab at her injured hand in concern. "What happened here?"

"It's nothing," Alex said. "We had a bit of aâ€""

"Oh, please." Even though she was limping, a hand pressed to her side, Kathryn Shaw was still smiling. "Like it's a surprise to see them bleeding and entwined together on the floor?"

Malcolm lowered his head, turning slightly to the side. "Kathryn, I told youâ€""

"What?" Shaw's brows came up. "Like I was going to miss the team-building meeting?"

Campbell lurched towards the brunette. Pierce's iron grip on her arm stopped her, and Amy flicked her head over her shoulder, but the Spider's steely gaze was focused on the other two.

"We are going to bed now," Alex ordered. "Neither of you will follow."

"Alexandraâ€"" Malcolm began.

"Lexi, come on," Kathi added. "We have work to do, and you didn'tâ€""

"Did I stutter?" Pierce asked, one brow coming up. "Neither of you will follow. Clear?"

Malcolm and Kathryn nodded, but they didn't need to.

No one in that room would defy her.
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