Hey, it's a new story! Do not meddle with Dana Faraday, because she can be a right bitch.
Un-beta'ed, so quibble away.
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Fool Me Twice
Dana Faraday, formerly Thompson, was a fairly easy-going woman. She was, according to her friends, a sweet, kind, generous person who would defend people to the best of her ability and then some. She was the perfect mother, the perfect wife.
And then her husband turned out to be Chess. It made sense, then, why she had always been so perfect and sweet and charitable. She'd been trying to keep anyone from noticing what was wrong. Her friends all clucked their tongues sympathetically, trying to recall if they'd ever seen bruises. They decided they had—because hadn't she worn long sleeves or high collars in warm weather? What a pity. Such a nice woman, too.
Of course, if any of them knew what Dana had done before she'd met Vince Faraday, they would have immediately run away in fear. Or, at least, accused her of being the true mastermind behind the Chess crimes.
Dana had once been one of the premiere field operatives of the Central Intelligence Agency. Even during the first four months of her pregnancy, she'd done fieldwork and helped the CIA pull off a number of what could have been called crimes that they wouldn't have been able to do otherwise.
Now that she was the wife of an alleged multiple murderer and crime lord, of course, she had something else to prove. And that meant that anyone who got in her way was going to get hurt.
Badly.
Marty was the first to be hurt. Dana had—rather stupidly, she admitted to herself in private—trusted him to help his best friend's memory. Instead, he'd sold out the only people who could have cleared Vince's name. When the packet of photographs was pushed under her door, along with the note, Dana's blood ran cold. She saw red.
The former operative had no idea what happened, or how it had come to take place, but Marty Voyt was mugged fifty-three times over the next six weeks. Everything in his private office was moved exactly one foot counter-clockwise. His car was moved to different spaces a total of one hundred and twenty-six times.
Dana had no idea who'd done it. But she was certain Marty was close to cracking.
The next person to face retribution was Philips. Dana had to tread carefully on that one, and tried her best not to hurt him. Well, too much, anyways. She liked his girlfriend. Kia was a nice woman, and intelligent enough to put a few minor details together to point towards Vince's innocence. So, she tried to be careful with Philips.
She'd heard about Philips' truck being in the shop after the psycho who was stalking her son had ripped the door off. Dana made a few calls, and ensured that the truck was stuck there for the foreseeable future. A few more calls—and a broken leg or two—ensured that it was impossible for Philips to get any kind of mass transit pass. It was petty, trivial revenge, but Dana felt good as she listened to Kia list every single whiny comment her darling boyfriend had made as he had to get up at four so he could walk to work.
Well, if he hadn't been involved in framing Vince…
Then Dana remembered the first frightening few weeks after Vince's death when her bank accounts had been locked out. If not for the sympathy of her neighbors—all of who had been fishing for bruises and abuse when they visited—Dana was sure she and Trip would have starved. She hadn't even been able to access her accounts. Philips, soon after, ran into quite a bit of trouble at the bank. It lasted for three months before the hold on his checking account was removed. The credit cards took a bit longer. And he lost his truck.
Kia was heard to remark that she was going to have to retrain her boyfriend so he wasn't such an idiot in the future. Dana considered it a partial win.
Travis wasn't even a blip on her radar of revenge. Dana was largely apathetic towards her boss. Until the drinks that night, he hadn't done much in relation to her that wasn't related to her family. She'd gotten her work done, and he'd left her largely alone. Dana suddenly found that suspicious, when she looked back on it. His insinuation—and what he'd actually said to her—the day after…
Well, she'd endured her neighbors fishing for juicy gossip because it had been like the office. His blatantly asking if she'd stayed with Vince because she enjoyed her husband beating her had just pissed her off. Travis asking her if that was what she wanted—and he'd do for her if that's what she wanted—in a relationship. Dana knew some people liked that. She knew some people who liked being smacked around. She wasn't one of them.
Revenge was quite a bit more aggressive from there on out. Travis' apartment was broken into. His case files and ID badge were stolen. His diploma from the pathetic little law school he'd gone to somehow made its way to e-bay. Interpol and several other governmental agencies began appearing in Travis' life. Even the FBI made an appearance. Dana didn't regret calling in that favor, although she had no idea who'd called in the other agencies. Really.
She had been inclined to be generous to the other two. Marty was capable of being trained. Philips was completely loyal—like a large, somewhat stupid dog—to Kia. But Travis. Travis had committed a crime Dana couldn't forgive him for.
Vince's memory deserved so much more. And Travis had to pay for this. And he did.
Dana didn't even feel guilty as she saw Travis stalk past her office, yelling at the agent from the unnamed agency who was rifling through his files. She smiled and took another bite of a muffin that was actually pretty tasty. Philips could be trained, and he was a damn good cook.
Dana had never been a particularly vindictive woman, but occasionally it turned out well. And in this case, it really had. She finished the muffin and smiled.
Revenge was fun.
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So, what did you think? Good? Bad? Should Dana be treated with lots and lots of respect and fear? Drop a line and let me know!
