Chapter 10

"Well, it's early for a drink," Cragen said, setting a row of newly polished glasses along a shelf underneath the bar. Olivia didn't know of another bar in lower Manhattan that served such a shitty clientele with such clean glasses. But she never begrudged the retired cop his quirks.

"Not for a Monday," she replied, and Cragen shrugged, setting two glasses on the counter and filling them from a heavily aged bottle of Scotch that he kept hidden underneath the register. Olivia rarely saw him bring it out, and only when the bar was empty.

"Touche," he said, the amber liquid pooling in the second glass as he slid the first over to her. "What brings you in so early? Work or life?"

"Work is life," she retorted, all too aware that she hadn't done too good a job of keeping the two separate over the weekend. Her face reddened as the memory of her night with Alex rushed back to her, and she quickly hid behind the safety of her glass, letting the Scotch trickle slowly down her throat.

Cragen waited expectantly for more details, but when Olivia didn't offer any, simply continued. "I see Nan's back in the papers."

It was the only name that could pull the detective from her thoughts, and it worked. "Nan's always in the papers," she said, her eyes curious despite the levity in her voice.

Cragen gave her an accommodating nod. "As far as I know, she isn't usually being investigated by the District Attorney's office."

"What?" Olivia abandoned her glass and gave him her full attention. "What the hell for?"

Cragen pulled a newspaper from beside the register, flipping it open and pointing to a small article along one side of a back page. "'For fostering illicit and subversive activities', is all the papers are saying. If you want my opinion, it's just the Mayor wanting to punish her for that campaign she ran against him last year. He still hasn't managed to win back the women's vote."

Cragen had a point, but something about the timing didn't seem right to her. The Mayor wasn't running for reelection for another year and a half, and had nothing to gain by going after Nan or the club this early. "I'm sure Nan's found a number of ways to piss off the elected officials in Manhattan," she said, her brow furrowed despite the levity in her voice.

Cragen nodded. "How's the other woman in your life?" he asked with a grin, raising his glass and prompting a harsh look from Olivia, which caused him to lower his drink with a frown. "I mean your gal friday," he said, his grin fading momentarily. "No more holes in the ceiling, from what I hear?"

Olivia nodded, taking another small, slow sip of her drink, all too willing to delay her inevitable journey upstairs, where she was certain Alex had already been for hours, bent over text, her glasses fixed in their usual position upon her straight-as-an-arrow nose. Other, sparsely-clothed visions of the blonde had passed through her mind for most of the weekend, and she had spent much of it attempting to wash away those visions with a bottle of bourbon. But it hadn't worked. Despite the burn of the alcohol, she could still almost taste Alex on her tongue. "I just came from talking to Munch," she offered, hoping that by focusing on business, it would help take her mind off the pale flesh that she had sampled Saturday night.

Cragen humphed into his glass. "No wonder you need a drink. That cretin still down at the gym or has he found a new way to scrounge for money?"

Olivia smirked. "He was at the track this time."

Cragen nodded, unsurprised. "Scoundrel." He nursed his drink, setting it back down on the counter in front of him and turning his attention to shining the rest of the glasses he had been shelving. "What kind of information you have to squeeze out of him?"

Olivia hesitated, but only for a moment. "I wanted to find out where Spade goes to intercept his less legitimate shipments. The docks in Manhattan are a little too exposed for that."

Cragen nodded. "Now they are. They didn't used to be. Used to be criminals owned those docks. Prohibition changed all of that, now the cops know where to go to scrounge for their bread and oil money."

"Looks like now all that's taking place in the harbors of Queens."

Cragen nodded, raising an eyebrow. "Sounds about right. You going solo, or you got backup?"

The door chimed, and both of them looked over, the early hour not usually bringing in too many visitors. Cragen's face turned sour quickly, and Olivia darted a look over at him, slugging down the rest of her drink. Judging by the visitor that had just walked in, she wouldn't be offered another, at least not today. "Speaking of backup," she said.

"Morning," Elliot said, tipping his hat as he walked towards them. "Don't mean to disturb you, but I caught you in the window. I was on my way up to the office."

Cragen tossed his towel over his shoulder, giving Elliot a once-over. "I'll be in the back," he said, almost grudgingly, as if he couldn't stand to be in the same room with the taller police officer. "Stay out of the Scotch."

Olivia raised her empty glass in acknowledgment, and swiveled in her chair toward Elliot, whose shoulders bristled at the older bartender's clear disdain. He waited until he was out of the room before he cringed, taking a seat next to his friend. "When the hell's he gonna get that chip of his shoulder?" he asked.

"He'll have that chip on his shoulder as long as you have that badge on yours," she replied with a stinging smile.

"He's lucky I don't raid this place," Elliot said, tossing his cap on the bar with an official frown.

"Right, and alienate every informant you got that does business here. You're not that stupid and neither is he. Just leave it at that." She ignored her friend's scoff and the childish way he crossed his arms over his chest, a posture that she had seem him adopt since they were kids, whenever he knew she was right and didn't want to admit it.

"What are you doing at a bar before noon?" he asked, stealing her drink and frowning when he realized it was empty. "If I had an assistant like yours, I'd be at work on time every day. You'd never get me to leave the office." He cocked his head, raising a finger as a connection dawned in his gray-blue eyes. "In fact, I got a buddy down at the precinct, just got out of a messy divorce - "

"She's off limits," Olivia said abruptly, yanking her glass back from his grip.

Elliot raised his eyebrows at his friend's sudden protectiveness. "She married?"

"No."

"Got a boyfriend?"

"No." Olivia looked over at him. "But he isn't her type, trust me."

Elliot crinkled his brow, puzzled. "Why not?" he pressed, as if suddenly taking an extreme interest in his own matchmaking abilities. "He's a nice guy, has a decent job, goes to church on Sundays."

"Does he have a dick?"

The comment caught Elliot off guard, and his mouth dropped open for a split second and he coughed, clearing his throat. "Probably not as big as yours," he said, with a slightly embarrassed laugh. "But, yes, I would bet that he does."

"Then I'm telling you." She stared pointedly at him, speaking slowly. "He isn't her type."

She let the words sink in, watching the realization dawn upon Elliot's features, ending with a befuddled shrug as he shook his head, baffled. "Huh. I never would've guessed that," he said.

"And why's that? Because she doesn't look like me?" Olivia asked, her shoulders tightening. Elliot may have been her closest friend, but that didn't mean he didn't show his obtuseness once in awhile. Of course, considering the company that she kept on a daily basis, she guessed she couldn't really complain.

"Nah, not at all. Nan certainly doesn't look like you, and I pegged her for a lesbian the first time that I met her. But Alex..." He pressed his lips together in a satisfied smirk as he saluted her. "You're a lucky woman, my friend."

Olivia smiled inwardly, but kept any sign of affection from her expression. If she tried hard enough, maybe she could convince herself of her own words. "Don't be so certain. She's not exactly a sit-at-home type of girl. If anything, she's working out to be a piece of work."

"Is that so?"

"This weekend she helped me tail Jack Spade by going undercover at a party of his."

This time Elliot did more than just raise his eyebrows. He turned to face her full on, and she could practically feel his gaze burn into her skin. "What is she now, your partner? You think that's wise?"

Olivia couldn't help the laugh that bubbled in her throat. All 'wise' thinking had gone out of the window the minute that Alex had walked into her life. Still, she had to admit, Elliot did have a point. The problem was, despite her naivete to the detective game, the blonde did have a hunch for what worked and what didn't. She had been pretty successful on Saturday night. And completely enchanting.

"I'd rather you just be fucking her than giving her fifty percent in your business," Elliot pressed, prompting a swift, quick punch to his shoulder from Olivia, who glared over at him.

"Keep your mouth shut, Elliot," she said, her own knuckles smarting from the quick jab, and she pressed her hand into her lap, irritated by her protective display.

Once again, she felt the cop's stare on her, and this time she met his gaze. He shook his head, giving a helpless laugh as he slapped the bar with his palm. "Shit, Liv, you are fucking her, aren't you?"

She raised her arm again, but he put his hands up defensively. "Sorry, sorry," he said, placating her, but his tone was still questioning. "You're sleeping with her?"

"It happened once, and it won't happen again," she answered, her voice unconvincing, even to herself.

Elliot simply smirked at her. "It's your business, Liv, you run it however you want to. I'm just saying, taking into account her past, with all those ties to the DA's office, that maybe you should be a little more careful with her. Trust is a fallible thing, you know. And I don't have to tell you, women can be pretty damn manipulative."

"Oh, spare me the chauvinist crap, Elliot. I happen to keep company with plenty manipulative men over the course of any given day. Most of which probably bribe your boss on a daily basis." She emphasized her point by stabbing a finger into the starched blue fabric of his uniform.

His gaze darkened, his eyes forming into tiny slits, as her comment hit home. "I don't know how much longer I'm willing to put up with this shit, Liv. I'm thinking about transferring out, going to some tiny place like New Hampshire or Rhode Island where I can raise the girls without all the corruption and the bullshit. It wears on me."

Olivia scoffed. "It should."

"Hey, a little sympathy, please?" he asked. "I'm bending over backwards to catch a madman who's murdering girls that no one else gives a shit about."

Olivia nodded over at him, bending over the counter and snatching Cragen's bottle of Scotch from behind the register, darting a look towards his office before pouring a double into her empty glass. She tucked the bottle back in its hiding place before sliding the glass over to Elliot, who took a long sip. "Any leads?" she asked, once she saw his eyes squint with the burn of the alcohol.

Elliot shook his head. "No. But the other day I caught Nicky Burns red-handed over in Skid Row, handing over money to some blonde, her lips probably just off his dick. So I took him in to the precinct. I don't care who he works for. I was just trying to prove a point."

"Johnny Mack bailed him right out, I'm sure." Even if the mob boss was having Olivia investigate one of his top men, family was still family. The last thing Johnny would want was undue police attention being paid to his turf.

Elliot shook his head. "No, he didn't. ADA Robert Thorne posted his bail. I saw him leave with Nicky."

Olivia looked over at him with a discerning eye. "Since when is the ADA close to Nicky Burns? Why would he care?"

Elliot shrugged. "How the hell should I know? I can barely keep up with who's in whose pocket on any given day anymore."

Olivia sighed, but the information tugged at her brain. "Welcome to my world," she said, snatching the glass back from him. "You shouldn't be drinking on the job." With that, she tossed back the rest of it, hoping it would steel her not against any of the loathsome foes she'd created over the past two weeks, but against beautiful blonde that was waiting for her upstairs.

Sure enough, Alex was perched behind her desk, but not bent over a book, as was her normal posture. Instead, she was gazing out of her window, seemingly lost in whatever thoughts were traveling through her head. She jumped slightly as she heard the door open, turning quickly towards her boss with a polite, if anxious smile.

"Morning, Ms. Cabot," Olivia said, cringing at her own formality as she shrugged out of her coat. She tipped her hat toward the blonde before hanging it on a lower hook, trying to avert her gaze as often as possible from her assistant. The effort was futile, however, as the strikingly blue blouse she wore seemed to beckon for attention.

"Good morning, Detective," she replied amiably. "Did you enjoy your weekend?" Her face flushed immediately, and she turned her gaze towards a few papers that she shuffled nervously in her hands. "I mean, did you enjoy the rest of your weekend?" she asked quietly, her words trailing off.

Olivia was certain her face matched the shade of her assistant's, but she managed to nod her head. "I did, yes. Thanks." She cleared her throat. "You?"

Alex nodded, her face finally returning to its normal, milky hue. "I did." She started to turn her attention formally back to her work, but her eyes raised almost bashfully to meet Olivia's. "I visited that old canal again. It's just as beautiful during the day as is at night."

If Olivia was attempting to do all that she could to avoid the blue eyes that peered up at her, Alex seemed to be doing everything in her power to unravel that resolve. The detective ran her fingers nervously along the straps of her suspenders before stuffing them dumbly in her pockets. "I'm glad you like it," she said, feeling the alcohol finally start to loosen her tongue, and she cursed Cragen for his hospitality. "The best is during a full moon. The light on the water, it makes you think its as deep as twenty leagues. Like you'll never know all its secrets." She cleared her throat, aware that she had momentarily felt out of place, like she wasn't in her dingy office, but someplace else. She blamed the blue eyes that still stared up at her. "Any messages?" she asked, averting her gaze to the blonde's organized desk.

Alex nodded, her hands moving quickly towards a small stack of paper messages, as if grateful to be given a task. "Several," she said. "One new client, Mrs. Jensen, who wants to make an appointment for Thursday. An old client, Mr. Galiope, who wants a copy of an old report you did for him. He wouldn't say why, he just said he preferred not to share his personal business with 'ladies'. He said he would rather talk to you." She smirked, the corners of her lips curling into a girlish grin. "Whatever that means."

Olivia sighed, reaching for the messages. "So begins an average day at the office." Her smile faded as her hand touched Alex's, and she didn't pull away quickly enough to prevent the jolt of electricity that ran up her arm. She cleared her throat again, tasting the Scotch on her tongue. "Okay, then," she said needlessly, heading abruptly towards her office. Before stepping through the threshold, she turned back, careful to focus her attention on the window just behind Alex's head. "Feel free to run any errands you need to today," she said, grasping for words. "You know, if we need anything here at the office... just... feel free to take any time you need."

Alex glanced around the office, as if taking an inventory and seeing nothing glaringly missing. "Okay," she said uncertainly. "Did you want me to run any specific errands?"

"And, um, if you want to take an hour for lunch, feel free," Olivia continued, waving her hand casually. The more Alex was out of the office, she was sure, the less she would think about her. It was a weak approach, but it was all she had at the moment. "We're pretty slow today."

Alex raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced and slightly amused at her boss' behavior. "Don't we need to discuss what happened Saturday?" she asked. She closed her eyes for a moment, slipping her glasses off sheepishly. "I meant, don't we need to discuss what happened with Jack Spade," she clarified, her voice low in embarrassment.

Olivia felt the Scotch running through her veins at the unintentional memory, and was ready to lock herself away in her office and away from the enticing blonde, if only for a moment of respite. "I think we debriefed enough," she said. "I'm going to see about getting some back up at the Queens docks, see if I can catch Spade red-handed."

Alex nodded. "I'm not familiar with those docks," she said, making a note to herself. "I'll go down to the Port Authority and get some maps. We may need them to navigate."

Olivia raised a halting hand, her brain suddenly, thankfully focused on the business at hand. "Whoa, whoa," she said, confiscating her assistant's steadily moving pen. "I'm going to Queens. You did your part for this case, Alex. I'll take it from here."

Alex rolled her eyes, her irritation almost palpable. "Are we really back here again?" she asked. "I thought we had covered this time and again. I'm a partner on this case. I'm going with you."

Olivia took a deep breath, almost glad that the blonde was testing her patience. Anger and irritation were two emotions that she was sure she could express. At least they didn't lead to lust, or anything else that might lead her dangling over the precipice that she had found herself on a few nights before. "Alex, don't get me wrong. You were great Saturday night - at the Spade party, I mean - but it ends there. I take over from here."

Alex was quiet, and when she didn't offer an immediate comeback, Olivia gave a slight nod and headed towards her office. She was stopped, however, by the blonde's voice, which spat her words with vehemence. "I'm not just a secretary."

Olivia turned, walking back towards the desk and leaning over it until her own face was mere inches from Alex's. Still, the blonde didn't give her any room, and only steeled her gaze to meet the detective's fierce eyes. Despite her irritation, she was still drawn to the younger woman, her sweet scent already familiar. "Trust me," she said, her voice dipping lower, "I know you're not just a secretary." She had been prepared to go further, to continue her tirade, and to point out that whatever Alex wasn't, she was a paid employee. Her voice, however, seemed to catch in her throat, and she found her eyes mistakenly veering over the younger woman's face, her pale neck, down to the low-cut top that barely masked the breasts that she had thought about ever since she first touched them.

She shook her head, hoping that her stare wasn't too noticeable. The blush creeping through Alex's cheeks, however, told her that it had been quite the lingering look, and she straightened quickly, suddenly flushed, and had the sudden urge to open a window. She strode silently into her office, closing the door behind her and heading towards her bathroom, where a quick splash of cold water helped slow down her quickening pulse. It was one thing to accidentally sleep with her assistant and another to fantasize about doing it again right in the middle of her own office.

She settled into her chair, losing herself for a moment in the recording device next to an old camera she had stowed away in her desk, imagining that it would come in handy that weekend if she were trying to capture enough evidence so that the police could run with something against Jack Spade. She wasn't surprised to hear the light knock at her door, and even less surprised when Alex poked her head in without waiting for a response, her lips clasped in a firm, thin red line.

She sat gracefully in front of Olivia's desk, peering over at her with a businesslike stare, although her hands fumbled nervously with the small notepad in her lap. "Detective," she said formally, "what happened over the weekend - "

Olivia held up a hand, nodding. "I know," she said. "It was - "

"A mistake."

The description couldn't have been more truthful, but it still hurt as Olivia digested the thought. "Certainly," she replied casually, but, she hoped, somewhat respectfully.

"And it won't - it can't - happen again."

Olivia knew she should nod, that she should give Alex some sort of encouragement. After all, that was the responsible thing to do, and she was almost abashed that she had waited for her assistant to bring it up first. "For what it's worth, Ms. Cabot," she said, mimicking the blonde's formality. "I had a great time with you on Saturday night, and would be willing to give a glowing recommendation to any future suitors on your behalf." She let her lip curl into a smile. "But you're right. Our relationship, from now on, will be consummately professional." She extended her hand for a shake, and Alex accepted it with only a slight hesitation, followed by an uncertain smile.

"Okay, then," the blonde said, tapping the edges of her notepad with her pencil.

Olivia glanced down at the nervous tick, which the composed woman so rarely displayed, and smiled at her. "Did you want to record any notes from this conversation?" she asked.

Alex pursed her lips, hugging the notebook to her chest as she rose from her chair. "Don't tease," she said, turning and stalking back to her side of the office.

"I won't, if you won't," Olivia replied under her breath, unable to tear her gaze away from the woman that walked away from her. Fortunately, her comment was overshadowed by the shrill ring of the telephone, and Alex picked up her pace back towards her desk.

"Benson, Private Eye," she said, readying her pen.

"Hey, Sharpshooter," said a voice that still sent a disgusted shiver up her spine, despite the fact that she had more than put him in his place. "It's Slim. Had any target practice lately?" She didn't respond, but the voice didn't seem deterred, and breezed over her silence. "Put Benson on the phone."

She rolled her eyes and leaned her head into the brunette's office. "Slim is on the line for you." She shook her head as Olivia reached for the phone that sat on her desk, not bothering to stifle her next comment. "The company you keep is absolutely dreadful."

Olivia smirked as she watched the blonde disappear into the front office, even the thought of Slim lingering on the line not dampening her mood. Despite her promise to the blonde, she knew she would have a hell of a time not breaking it.

Olivia sat at a sidewalk cafe, tapping her foot impatiently. She had agreed to meet Slim, but only outside of the warehouse, where she could fully keep an eye on her surroundings. She had nursed a Coca-Cola for over fifteen minutes waiting for him, and was just about to leave him hanging, when she heard his voice linger over her shoulder.

"Afternoon, Benson."

She turned, Slim's huge body ambling over to her table, perching carefully on a chair that was almost comically too small for his large frame.

"I can't believe you drink that stuff," he said, gesturing towards the bottle, while fishing a cigarette from his coat pocket. "It's addictive, you know."

"Isn't everything?" she asked, waving the smoke out of her eyes as it drifted over the table, causing her eyes to water.

He shrugged, flagging down a waitress with a large hand and a loud grunt. "Two calzones," he said, holding up the number with his right hand, as if to clarify his order.

"I'm not eating, Slim," Olivia said, taking a sip of her soda.

"Good, 'cause I ain't ordering nothing for you," he said, waving the waitress off and wiping the ever present sheen sweat off his neck with a handkerchief. "Now let's cut to the chase, so I can enjoy my lunch in peace. What have you got for me on Spade?"

Olivia rolled her eyes, even though she hadn't exactly expected manners from her lunch comrade. "What I 'got', is for your boss, Johnny Mack, and not for you. Remember that. You're not paying me, Slim."

He waved her remarks off with a flourish of his hand. "Noted. You don't like me, Benson, I got it. Now spill."

Olivia sighed. The more she delayed, the more time she would waste watching Slim stuff his face with two giant calzones, and she could think of better ways to spend her afternoon. "Spade's got a shipment of arms coming in next Tuesday," she said. "The Queens harbor."

Slim nodded, tapping a large finger on the table. "Good, that's good. But Spade ain't dumb enough to be there at the docks and accept a bunch of guns open-armed. We got to follow the guns to him."

Olivia rolled her eyes, throwing her hands in the air. "What, you think I was born yesterday, Slim, give me some credit. I'll follow the shipment, and will get it all on camera. No worries. Johnny will have proof that Spade's behind the illegal shipment."

"I can get you some backup NYPD enforcement in Queens if you need it."

"You think they'll let me borrow an unmarked car with a radio?"

"I can arrange that," he said with a nod. "I can't promise the car won't be a piece of shit," he said with a laugh. "Queens precinct ain't got shit for money these days."

Olivia nodded. "Then I'll count on it. I can radio them a location when Spade's made contact, and they can take it from there." She sighed. Despite her entire operation, she knew it wouldn't lead to any substantive decrease in crime. She wasn't sure her job ever did. "You're fully aware that Spade's got the DA in his back pocket, right? He won't be off the streets for very long."

"That ain't what I heard," Slim said, shaking his head and smiling as the waitress sat down a plate of steaming food in front of him. He waited until she was well out of ear shot before leaning over towards Olivia. "I heard the DA and Spade ain't as friendly as they used to be. DA's son is cutting ties left and right, trying to shake things up. I just think he wants to unseat his old man, and he's pleasing the political crowd. Still, Spade ain't happy."

"And how do you know all this?"

"Well, seeing as how you ain't paying me, I don't have to tell you how I know it," Slim said with a smirk as he munched into his calzone, cheese oozing out of the end of it.

"Well, well, look who's here," said a voice from above them, and Olivia glanced up, surprised to see Nicky Burns staring down at the two of them with his bony arms crossed over his chest. Her eyes darted over to Slim, who seemed just as surprised to see his colleague hovering over them. The big man stiffened, the tough black hairs on his arm bristling. "What are you doing here, Nicky? Ain't you supposed to be someplace?"

"No place but right here," the thinner man answered, running a hand over his mustache and taking a seat next to Slim. He waved over the waitress, giving her a wide smile that didn't seem to move her at all. "Let me get a coffee, doll."

Slim rolled his eyes, taking another cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it, careful to let the smoke blow right towards his colleague's face. He didn't bother furthering the conversation, and Olivia wondered whether he even remembered the initial lie they fed to Nicky when she was hired. She had to sift quickly through her memory to even remember it herself.

"How you looking on those Rattlers?" Nicky asked, thwarting her out of her thoughts. Clearly he hadn't forgotten the faux reason Johnny had hired her. "You got something on them you can feed to NYPD?" She noticed a suspicious glint in his eye, but chalked it up to the natural selection of merely being a gangster.

"I've turned over a few things to the police, yeah," she answered, not bothering to dart a look at Slim, who she knew was eyeing her with careful gravitas. "Not enough to warrant Dino's arrest, but enough to scare him away from the Luckys' docks, at least."

Nicky nodded, winking at the waitress as she set his coffee down in front of him. She was still unamused, walking away with a frown. "Good," he said, pulling out his own flask and dashing a splash of alcohol into it. "Can't ever be too careful in these parts. There's always someone trying to get the best of you."

"Ain't that the truth," Slim said, puffing another smoke towards Nicky. Olivia rolled her eyes at the testosterone-fueled tension that wafted over the table, almost as thick as the cigarette smoke itself.

"I'm curious, though," Nicky continued, taking a sip of his spiked drink. "Why ol' Johnny hasn't turned his sights onto the Rabbits. Seems to me Jack Spade's the one he should be worried about." He glanced pointedly at Olivia.

She didn't dare look over at Slim, not while Nicky's gaze burned into her, and she merely shrugged, challenging him. "I don't investigate what I'm not asked to," she said, turning her attention toward the bottle of Coca-Cola that sat in front of her, condensation beading off the bottle, a reminder of the own sweat that was starting to collect on her brow.

Nicky hit Slim squarely on the shoulder. "What you think, Slim?" he asked. "Think Johnny ought to look into it? I mean, that's your job, right? To take care of Johnny? Make sure nothing gets the best of him?"

Slim moved quickly despite his size, his chair toppling behind him as he stood, bringing Nicky up with him by his collar. "You little piece of shit," he said, his voice booming over the sidewalk. "You think you can make a fool of Johnny and the rest of us?" His fist pummeled into the side of Nicky's face, the sound of the crack halting the several lunch conversations around them as patrons moved quickly from their seats, punctuating the violence with a few feminine shrieks.

Olivia was on her feet in a second, pulling Slim's arm and attempting to relieve his grip on the wiry man, who was now balancing on the tips of his toes in an attempt to alleviate the pressure on his neck. Slim's arm swung out at her, catching her squarely in the jaw, not hard, but enough that she tasted blood in her mouth. She saw Nicky kick out, catching Slim in the shins, and she made a move for him instead, but felt someone catch her arm, a fist shooting quickly into her stomach and causing blackness to flash in front of her. She straightened, swinging back, knowing it was more than likely not a good idea, but by then chaos had already erupted, and she slipped into it, ready for a fight.

A/N: This is one of my least read stories, but one of my most favorite to work on, which is why it took so long to get this update just right. So, thank you so much to those of you who have read and shared your thoughts. It means a ton! And thanks to Jazz, who kicked my muse back into gear. :)