Hey, it's an update! And look, plot!

Un-beta'ed, as always.

- o – o -

Chapter ten: Networking can change your life

Dana paced around her bedroom, shooting angry looks at the door and, by extension, her husband every so often. Yesterday evening, she'd discovered that, not only was he still alive, but he'd been gallivanting around the city playing superhero. This was almost as bad as the time the Jackals had come to Palm City for a reunion.

At least, she thought with a scowl, Vince hadn't been lying to her or omitting information that it would have been really nice to know. He could have let her know three months ago that he was alive—she wouldn't have taken it too badly… Maybe. The public defender sighed and flopped down on her bed, shooting a look at her alarm clock.

The woman groaned and pulled her pillow over her face. It was three in the morning, and she had to go in to work in four hours. It was too early for this… Hell, it was too early for anything. Dana glowered at the wall, wondering if she could put the evil eye on Vince (who was currently sleeping on her couch) through the wall.

She would kill him later. After she'd had her coffee, and after her beloved husband had explained things to Trip. Now that was a good thought.

- o -

Philips still wasn't sure how he'd gotten a day off, but he was sincerely grateful for it. He'd done quite a bit of thinking the night before, and come to one horrific conclusion: He was growing a conscience.

The security officer groaned in disbelief and rubbed his face with both hands. He really had no idea when it had started to take hold, but it was worrisome all the same. His job with ARK Corporation practically depended on his being a stone-cold asshole who didn't answer to anyone but the boss. Now though… He was starting to question himself, and unfortunately, contracts with ARK didn't really have clauses for employees who wanted to quit. Getting fired, on the other hand…

He gave a strangled scream of frustration and flopped back on the bed. Kia had gone to work an hour ago, leaving him with half a pot of fresh coffee and a reminder to do the laundry. While he normally would have loved a chance to go through Kia's things, it wasn't quite as exciting a thought as normal. And then there was the fact that he was about to do something monumentally stupid with his day off.

Philips pulled a t-shirt on and looked down at the words on it, thinking. Yeah. Not a good idea. He pulled it back off and grabbed one of his remaining plain black t-shirts out of the dresser. Looking presentable was going to go a long way towards what he was planning to do.

After getting dressed, Philips stuffed the paperwork he'd spent half the night working on into a satchel, grabbed a mug of coffee, and left the apartment. Kia had been speaking of Dana Faraday in glowing terms for the last month, and his impression of her from their conversation at the party had been pretty good as well. She was honest, a bit of a pit bull, and willing to fight for justice—which was exactly why he was going to her for this.

As the security officer headed for the bus stop, he pondered his sudden attack of conscience. Yesterday morning, he'd been normal. Nothing had bothered him about the fact that the miniature was still terrified of him, and had a mini-panic attack every time Fleming's name was mentioned. But now… Honestly, it was the brat's fault.

Philips sighed, slouching onto the bus. The driver shot him a glare, which Philips ignored as usual. After three and a half months, the gang war had settled down; ARK Corporation, meanwhile, was still far from popular.

Last night, he'd been about to clock off shift, elated at the idea of having a day off. (Despite the fact that his pay was good, he hated getting up at o-dark-thirty to go to work.) And then the brat had had a nightmare.

- o -

Philips was quite ready to clock off shift at this point. The miniature had been on his best behavior for the past few hours—hell, he'd been well-behaved since getting tazed at the party—and the quiet was something Philips thought he could get used to.

The security officer took one last look around the observation deck to make sure he hadn't left anything behind. His newest book of crosswords was in his backpack, he'd recovered the deck of playing cards from the miniature an hour ago, and… Philips' train of thought ground to a halt as he heard the first whimper.

He wondered if the universe just hated him personally, or if it was just that kind of day. The man looked into the spider trap (seriously, what the hell else was he supposed to call it?), wondering if Dominic had somehow rolled off the new bed—he'd been taken off medical observation that morning, and the old things had been switched out for normal furniture.

Nope. Judging by the way he was twisting around, the miniature was having a nightmare again. Philips sighed and buried his face in his hands. Night shift wasn't due up here for another fifteen minutes, and he didn't actually clock off until they got up here.

Philips sighed and dumped his backpack onto the hard plastic chair against the railing. He could do this, and then get the hell out of dodge. Hopefully Kia would still be awake by the time he got back to their apartment…

Dominic was curled up in a ball near the headboard when Philips got down to the pit. The ten-year-old had kicked the blankets onto the floor at some point, and the beaten-up black teddy bear was nowhere to be seen. That was probably what had caused this, Philips thought with a sigh and a shake of his head.

The security officer picked the blankets up off the ground and pulled them back over the child, who seemed to have settled down. He was unprepared for the miniature sitting upright with a scream.

Philips sat down on the bed, instinctively pulling Nicky into his arms. Nothing really came to mind that was soothing, so he just sat there, letting the child cry himself back to sleep.

After Dominic was back in dreamland with Russkie clutched safely in his arms, Philips left. He sighed.

"You're getting soft, old man," Philips muttered under his breath. "You're getting soft."

- o -

Philips groaned, realizing that his mutterings last night as he'd left work had been entirely too true. He was growing soft, and it was all because of the kid. That was probably why he was being such an idiot today—although he could always stay on the bus until it got to dockside, and he could get drunk. And review the facts of life, as they pertained to his job.

He nixed the idea almost immediately. For one thing, he'd end up in prison at some point—just admitting what he'd done for ARK was enough to get him life without parole, and for another, he was a chatty drunk. (According to Kia he was, anyways.)

The bus stopped in front of Palm City's legal hub, jolting Philips out of his thoughts. He gathered his satchel up and left the bus at a fast clip. The sooner he got this done, the sooner he could tender his resignation. He'd quit ARK and find another job…somewhere.

Philips walked into the main lobby of the legal hub and headed for a side hallway branching off the busy hub of the building. Kia had mentioned that Dana's office was on the first floor, somewhere off one of the hallways that led in and out of the lobby.

As luck would have it, the first office he tried was Faraday's. He took a deep breath and knocked.

Dana Faraday was working on a stack of paperwork when she heard the knock. She was sorely tempted to tell whoever was on the other side to come back later, but decided against it. For all she knew, it was Travis with more paperwork for her. Pissing off the boss wasn't a good idea.

She sighed. "Come in!" she called. The public defender was surprised when, instead of her boss and more cases to slog through, Kia's boyfriend entered her office. He looked uncomfortable, which really wasn't a surprise. The only people who had more potshots taken at them than ARK officers were judges, and the judges had banded together to pay for bodyguards.

"Mrs. Faraday?" Philips asked, wrapping one hand around the strap on his satchel. He knew it was her, but it was better to introduce himself again.

"What's up…Philips, wasn't it?" Dana replied, smiling as she closed the folder she had been working in. "What can I do for you?"

Philips sighed, slouching down in one of the seats crammed into the office. "I need some legal advice," he replied after a few seconds.

"Couldn't you ask Kia?" Dana said. This was entirely too weird. What was Philips doing here? Didn't he have a miniaturized criminal to guard, or something?

"Well…" Philips trailed off uncomfortably. "I need something witnessed, and I don't want Kia to know just yet. She'd probably kill me."

Dana raised an eyebrow, wondering if she was being asked to look at a pre-nup agreement or something. There was someone who'd done that kind of paperwork for the last twenty years just down the hall…

"What do you need witnessed?"

"Can I have a promise that news of this will never leave the room?" Philips asked, pulling the satchel onto his lap. He rested his hands on the smooth canvas, fingers splayed over it. The security officer appeared calmer than he felt at that moment.

"Attorney-client privilege," Dana responded. "If I'm being asked to witness something, or notarize it, then it falls under the purview of attorney-client privilege and I can't speak about it."

"Oh good," Philips said. He pulled a thick manila envelope out of the bag, placing it on Dana's desk. A second envelope, this one brown, was placed next to it. The third one was, in Dana's opinion, a bit excessive. Either he wanted three things witnessed, or he had three copies he needed a witness for. What was he doing?

Dana opened the manila envelope first and pulled out a sheet. The writing on it made her eyebrows disappear into her hairline. "I, Jacob Winston Philips, do certify that everything in the following documents is true and factual to the best of my knowledge. No deviation has been taken from the true course of events, and I swear before the courts and this witness," there was a space for someone's name there, "that everything presented here is as follows. Signed, Jacob Winston Philips, 15 October 2011."

What had Philips been doing? She pulled out the next sheet, and began to feel sick to her stomach. The next sheet wasn't much better, and by the time she had finished skimming each carefully written page, Dana was sure she was going to throw up.

Philips had been there when Vince had been framed. He'd stapled the mask to her husband's head and helped kill him. The security officer knew Chess's identity, and he'd participated in a number of the psychopath's crimes.

"I'm sorry."

Dana looked up at the whisper she'd half-heard from Philips. The man looked miserable, slumped over in his seat like he'd just been told that his dog was dead or that Christmas had been cancelled. Apparently he'd grown a conscience sometime in the past year, to admit all of this. Dana was half-afraid to look in the two remaining envelopes—if the first one had held evidence exonerating Vince, who knew what the others held?

She sighed. "I need to call Travis and Kia in on this," Dana said. Philips gave no sign of protesting as she lifted the phone to her ear and dialed a number from memory. Kia and Travis arrived at her office in less than five minutes. Kia looked furious and Travis had a speculative look on his face.

Dana handed the two remaining files to her coworkers, and watched with some trepidation as Kia opened the red envelope. It took the Hispanic lawyer less than five minutes to go through the contents of the envelope. By the time she had finished, there were tears in her eyes and a betrayed look on her face.

"Don't say it, Kia," Philips sighed when he saw his girlfriend's face. "I fucked up big time. Do you want me to move out?"

Kia stared at her boyfriend as though he'd grown another head. "I'd love to castrate you right now," she said, holding up the red envelope. "But I think I can work with this." She turned to Dana. "So, what are we doing with this? Listing it as a dying confession?"

"I don't think so," Dana said, looking at Philips. "He's probably not in any danger of that. Yet."

There was no missing the tone Dana was using. Philips was pretty sure he could use it to beat someone with, although he wasn't going to voice that out loud. After all, the only person in the room who didn't look like they were liable to kill him was Travis Hall, but the speculative look on the other man's face wasn't helping any.

Dana grinned evilly at him, and Philips felt a chill running down his spine. This was going to end badly for him…

Twenty minutes later, a rough plan had been hammered out. Travis's friend in the Justice Department was on board with their plan. Unfortunately for Philips, this meant that everyone in the room had to act as though he were seconds from dying—something about the evidence being harder to throw out if it were protected as a dying confession, and Fleming getting forced into forfeiting his rights to the sixth amendment protection. Philips, who had been dating Kia for nearly two years, still had no idea what any of that meant.

Whatever else happened, Philips was glad that he wasn't being forced into protective custody just yet. Somehow, he had the feeling that Travis's friend would lock him at the bottom of a mine shaft and throw away the key.

And, at the very least, Kia hadn't dumped him. The information in the packet she'd read was explosive. She wasn't dumping him, he had been informed, because he had disclosed everything in such accurate detail and she wasn't about to get rid of the only man who's eyes didn't glaze over when she started talking in legalese. (He was still being banished to the couch for the foreseeable future, though. Every silver lining had a cloud.)

Kia, Travis, and Dana accompanied him back to the lobby, discussing potential strategies in low voices. The unholy trio consulted Philips on details in the packets they were browsing through on occasion, apparently wanting to keep as many details as they could straight. If Philips understood what they were saying, they were trying to figure out a strategy should he disappear for some reason.

(He really didn't want to contemplate what they were going to do with a Statement against Interest exception. It sounded bad.)

Philips froze like a deer in the headlights when he saw the five men in the middle of the lobby. He knew them from his rounds with ARK patrol, back before the time travel project. Weren't they enforcers for Li'l Z's gang…?

Oh shit.

The security guard did the first thing he could think of and pulled Kia to the ground. His bellow of "hit the floor!" came a few seconds before the men started firing. Why was Dana's shirt red…?

With that final thought, Philips passed out as a chunk of plaster fell from the ceiling and hit him on the side of the head.

- o -

Dominic wasn't sure why he'd done it. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, after all.

The ten-year-old sighed as he contemplated the key card in his hands. He'd swiped it from Officer Philips the night before. He hadn't even been thinking when he'd done it—it had just happened. Personally, Dominic blamed Aunt Amanda for his ability to pick pocket. She had gotten fed up with how thin he was all the time and taught him how to lift money out of people's pockets so he could buy food. (It hadn't worked out for him, in the end. The only thing of value he'd managed to lift before the todger had broken his wrists was an old watch off of Mister Frederickson, in an attempt to prove that he could steal things without getting caught.)

He shook himself out of his thoughts and swiped the card into another reader. He'd been looking for the stairs for the last hour, trying to make his way down to the ground floor. So far, he'd only found a couple of supply closets filled with boring paperwork.

The eighth door he tried made him grin, though. He'd found the stairwell. Dominic slipped through the door, keeping one eye on the security camera as he closed the door oh so carefully. It wouldn't do for one of the guards on night shift to discover him getting on a walkabout. After shattering that bitch Preston's kneecap, they weren't exactly inclined to be very nice to him.

Dominic flattened himself against the wall as he heard people thundering by in the corridor below. After a few seconds, when it was apparent that no one was coming into the stairwell, he continued down. Who was Doctor Samuel anyways, and why did anyone care if he was dying from blood loss? And who the effin' 'ell was Chess?

"Hello, my little one."

Dominic looked up at the man he'd run into, and felt a thin trickle of icy fear run down his spine. No! It wasn't fair! He was almost home free this time… He bit his lip as he felt tears well up in his eyes. Before they had a chance to start falling, the stranger had produced a handkerchief from somewhere and was wiping the tears away.

Deveraux smiled as the sleep-inducing drug he'd worked into the fabric took hold. He gathered the small child up in his arms and murmured a few words from a long-dead language. The game was moving too slowly for his tastes, and Max was getting insufferably arrogant.

Mortals were stronger than magicians, in ways that Max couldn't even begin to imagine.

- o - o -

So, what did you think? Good? Bad? Think Philips is doing something incredibly stupid but noble? Drop a line and let me know!

Many thanks to WtchCool, who provided the majority of the legal advice utilized in this chapter. She did a wonderful job and deserves a round of applause for putting up with my questions.