- Author's Note: I don't own the characters or Revolution; I'm just playing with them for a bit for fun, not profit. T for language and some sexual themes. Mild spoilers for 1.8


Miles strode into the whorehouse like he owned the place, which since it was in Philly wasn't too far from the truth. He had rolled up his well-worn and comfy shirt to expose his encircled M tattoo. Miles had been to this whorehouse a few times, he vastly preferred groupies to whores, but Kip, he liked his whores. Kip didn't have his skill at sorting the groupies who just wanted to sleep with him for the bragging rights and those who wanted some sort of emotional blackmail. But anyway, Miles knew the proprietor of this whorehouse – a fellow that went by the oh so clever name of Badger – and spotted him across the front room. The front room was large and tavern-like with a small bar and numerous tables with scantily clad "ladies" and customers. The "ladies" were wearing a hodge-podge of dresses, some wore cocktail dresses, some wore teddies, and incongruously some wore bright sundresses.

Miles waved down Badger and the obsequious fellow arrived shortly bearing a tumbler with a large shot, or two, of gin. Badger offered the drink to General Matheson and welcomed him to his house. Badger was wearing a forest green pinstriped sports jacket and with a clashing olive green tie, he was fairly short and going bald – for all intents and purposes he looked like a used car salesman (which Miles thought was ironic). Miles took the drink and took a large gulp. Esophagus burning pleasantly, Miles said conspiratorially, "I heard tell you've got a virgie."

Badger quickly glanced about the room and asked, "Who told you that?"

Miles calmly replied, "Why, my good friend Kip, you know, Major Kipling."

Badger calmed a bit with this name and quietly suggested that this conversation would be better had elsewhere. Miles calmly acquiesced to the change in location and grabbed another shot of gin on his way to Badger's back room.

Once in the backroom Miles quickly finished the gin and placed the tumbler on top on some paperwork on Badger's desk. Badger appeared annoyed at the possible damage to his paperwork, but said nothing of it. Miles took perverse pleasure from pissing off this child sex-slave owning shit.

Miles subtly moved in front of the door and firmly said, "You are going to release that child to me right now."

Badger made many protestations of ignorance, innocence, and apologies, but Miles cut him off after a few minutes of blathering, undiluted menace dripping from each word, "You are going to release that child to me right now. You will also release any other children under the age of 16 and any women who are not here voluntarily. I will be increasing the frequency and randomness of the compliancy inspections of yours and other whorehouses. I will be double-checking the reliability of the soldiers I send on these inspections. And you will tell me the names of the sons-of-bitches that sold you a 15-year-old girl as a sex-slave."

Badger was on his knees nodding and affirming until Miles came to that last point. Miles shut him up with an icy, "If you don't tell me who they are I will close down your establishment during the full through investigation into child sex-slave trafficking in the Monroe Republic."

Badger listed off a half dozen or so names of soon to be dead men, including one militia captain whom Miles had had some suspicions about and one sergeant he hadn't. Miles nodded to the groveling mustelid and motioned him up; "You are going to release that child to me right now."

The third time was, as they say, a charm, and Badger got up, attempted to hide the urine stain on his pants and soundlessly led Miles up to a third floor room.

Badger unlocked the door to the room, and moved as if to leave. Miles stopped him with a grunt and glare, motioning him to open the door, just in case it was a trap. The door swung inwards revealing a small room empty but for a queen-sized bed, a partially boarded up window and a fireplace turned shelving unit turned back into a fireplace. Oh and a girl. The girl, Mia presumably, looked up from by the window –like a startled alley cat. The girl was a bit shorter than Nora, and less skeletal, her face was more heart-shaped, but her piercing obsidian eyes were the same.

The girl glared at the two men, accusations burning in her eyes, her body tense. Her wrists had been rubbed raw and her fingertips were bloody from where she had been clearly digging at the window, but otherwise she seemed fine. Thankfully, the girl was dressed in a ruby cocktail dress – Badger would get to live another day, he hadn't dolled her up like some child, he wasn't purposefully pandering to pedophiles.

Her body tensed further as she felt his eyes roaming about her, and tensed still further when she noticed his encircled M tattoo. After a dozen heartbeats or so the little hellion said, "So are we gonna get this shit-show on the road?"

Miles suppressed a half-grin, sure it would be misunderstood as a smirk, "No, we aren't Mia, your sister is waiting for you outside. You are free to go, though it'd be best if you and Nora get as far away from Baltimore as possible, it's a rats-nest of human trafficking."

The girl tensed further – as tightly wound as a rubber-band propelled airplane Miles had as a kid – when he said her name, but she relaxed at the mention of her sister. Miles stepped back from the doorway and used his whole head to motion that she should leave. After a moment of hesitation she darted out of the room like a feral cat.

On her way out Miles grabbed her forearm, triggering rubber-band tension yet again. "I'm sorry," he murmured to the girl, "The Monroe Republic is supposed to be safe." He released the girl's arm and allowed her to bolt, listening for the sound of her reaching the front room, exiting the building, and reuniting with her sister.

Then Miles turned to the cringing weasel, and said, "Now let's see if you have anymore little girls locked up in here."


- Author's Note: Reviews and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated :)