Location: Gotham City
Date: August 27


The Monday following Will's shameless coercion, Jane struggled to stay focused on work at the precinct. She didn't want to be in the same city with him let alone the same building, but she was not about to give him the satisfaction of driving her out. She had stretched the truth in order to acquire her current position, but she did possess the necessary skills and had proven her efficacy during her brief tenure. For the first time in her life she had a respectable job, and she would not allow her loathsome ex to run her off without a fight. She deeply regretted her inaction, for had she gone straight to the brass the morning after discovering the louse stalking Kate she could have nipped the whole thing in the bud before he had the chance to issue his little ultimatum, and any slanderous statement made against her after that would have been regarded a retaliatory measure and thus discredited. But she hadn't, and now she was now paying the price for her forbearance.

In a week her life had gone from idyllic to hellish. Her knight in shining armor had turned out to be a jerk in tin foil, and that was only the beginning of her problems. In light of Will's menacing threat, it was frighteningly apparent that he would stop at nothing to guarantee her silence on the matter of his unscrupulous, not to mention illegal, investigation into virtually every facet of her friend's life. And because she had every reason to believe he would deliver on it, she would have to keep quiet lest she wanted to end up in padded room indeterminately. He had been appointed her conservator in April, which meant that she would be at his mercy for two more miserable months. Her therapist reserved the right to recommend a shorter guardianship, but knowing what a stickler for protocol Dr. Young was, Jane was not holding out hope for that particular reprieve.

Of the millions of men in Gotham, she had to hook up with a certifiable asshole. Of the hundreds of cops, she had to cross paths with an unbalanced rogue with no respect for the law or the people he swore to protect and serve. It all seemed so clear to her in retrospect. All the telltale signs had been right there in front of her, she was simply too distraught to recognize them at the time. She should have known something was off about Will the moment he showed up at her door and suggested that she falsify the Missing Person Report. That overdue insight led her to the next piece of evidence in the case against him, his eyebrow-raising failure to submit the document to the department. He'd ascribed the error to an innocent oversight, but after getting a good, hard look at the real Detective Garris, Jane suspected the convenient excuse had been just that, perhaps even a premeditated lie told as part of the sinister plan he had been devising all along. The deviant detective was operating with a one-track mind, and that track was Bane. Her divulgence of the terrorist's bizarre intervention on Kate's behalf was the catalyst for his mania, an affliction that had worsened over time rather than improved. Kyle's testimony added fuel to the fire, and Kate's fabrication about being in the hospital served as the final stroke of the insane picture Will was painting.

Jane understood the obsession to a certain degree. Kate's so far unexplained disappearance and reappearance did raise some obvious questions, but Jane was convinced that Will's theory was absolutely ludicrous. Though her knowledge of her friend was somewhat limited, Jane knew Kate well enough to know without a doubt that she would never voluntarily involve herself with the likes of Bane. She may have reviled Gotham in a general sense, but she had also openly expressed her woefulness in reaction to the duplicitous revolution more than once, and that certainty left Jane with only one logical conclusion: Her former beau had officially gone off the deep end.

For her entire adulthood, Jane had been a die-hard cynic, a harsh critic of the condemnable species to which she belonged. She'd been alive long enough to know that people were, for lack of a better word, shit. Sure there were a few exceptions to the rule, but on the whole mankind was irredeemable. She could think of no better place to learn that sad truth than a strip club. The venues of her previous vocation varied in some aspects, but at the end of the day they were all the same, places where men from all walks came to drink, drug, and debauch with the purpose of escaping their dreary lives for a spell. By the time she was hired at the Garden of Eden she had been dancing for nearly two years, a veteran by industry standards. As such she had met every type of human being there was. Or so she had thought until one fateful day in November of 2011.

On the third Saturday night of the occupation, Gotham's Garden of Eden was packed to capacity by patrons and attractions alike. A bevy of beautiful women of all colors and most sizes jockeyed for prime positions in front of the well-lit, wall-length mirror that adorned the dressing room of their workplace. One of the scantily-clad starlets was Jane Mitchell, a twenty-three year old transplant from Missouri eager to make her mark on her new home in both a personal and professional sense. Standing at barely over five feet with wavy, flaxen hair and an hourglass figure, she enjoyed the ability to earn a livelihood based solely on her appearance. While touching up her look she beheld an unfamiliar face in the mirror, that of a pretty brunette seated at the back of the room who, unlike the rest of the den's occupants, seemed to be inexplicably unconcerned with vanity. Curious as to the identity of the mystery woman, Jane decided to make her acquaintance.

"Save my seat," she instructed one of her chums before cutting a line through the crowd.

"You must be new," Jane spoke to the stranger.

"Yeah. I'm Kate," the woman extended her hand.

"Jane," she said and accepted the woman's hand for a shake. "This your first night?"

"Yeah," the newbie replied with a perfunctory smile.

"Who hired you?"

"Uh, Gus."

"The big cheese himself. You must've made quite an impression."

Doubtful of the blonde's sincerity, Kate abstained from responding and simply flashed another halfhearted grin of acknowledgement.

Jane was adept at reading people, and she could tell solely from the new girl's deportment that she was a novice in the world of adult entertainment, maybe even a virgin. Curious to know whether her assumption was the correct one, Jane opted to ask.

"You've never done anything like this before, have you?"

"It must be written on my forehead," Kate joked.

"So what brings you to this line of work?"

"Money," Kate answered candidly.

"You came to the right place."

"So I've been told. It's hard to believe a place like this is still in business with everything that's happening right now."

"You mean the masked psycho who's holding us hostage with a radioactive bomb?"

"That's a rather blunt description."

"I'm a straight shooter, call things like I see them. And right now I see a person who's fighting a war underneath all that makeup."

"Excuse me?"

"The left side of your brain's telling you to go out there and get it over with while the right side's saying you still have time to duck out the back door."

"And you know all of this how?"

"Your right hand hasn't stopped shaking since we started talking. You're a nervous wreck."

"Guilty as charged," she admitted and gazed at the floor embarrassedly.

"Everyone in this room was you at one point or another. Trust me, it's not as bad as you think it's going to be."

"It will be for me. I can't dance."

"Gus didn't audition you?"

"He said he didn't have time for it. I sort of ambushed him."

"Even so, the subject must've come up."

"I may have embellished the truth a little," Kate confessed in a low voice.

"Define 'a little.'"

"The last time I danced was at my prom to Celine Dion."

"Wow, you must really be hard-up."

"I lost my job, and my landlord's threatening to evict me if I don't pay up by the end of the month."

"What a paragon. Nice to know the all-mighty dollar still reigns supreme in the face of nuclear annihilation."

"I couldn't think of any other way to earn fast money. As much as I need the income, I'm afraid I may have made a big mistake."

"Well, you'll never know unless you try, right?"

"I'm going to make an idiot of myself, I can feel it," Kate fretted.

"Try to calm down. Don't try anything fancy on the pole, just stick to the basics. And be sure to capitalize on your strengths."

"I don't have any."

"Sure you do, you have your body. That's all these clowns are interested in anyway."

"Thanks for the advice."

"Anytime."

"I just hope I don't fall on my face . . . literally."

"You'll be fine. Just keep it simple for now, and you'll get the hang of it in no time."

When the deejay announced Jane's intro, she jumped up from her seat.

"And Kate?" she turned around.

"Yeah?"

"Welcome to paradise," Jane smiled and dashed out to the curtain.

Jane liked Kate, or Katie as she affectionately called her, from the start. Much to her pleasant surprise, the Gothamite did not possess the cattiness that was common among most women in the business. There was nothing disingenuous about her; she was who and what she claimed to be, someone who came from nothing and was going nowhere. Such humility was a rarity in Jane's experience, a quality she couldn't help but respect given her own frank nature. Furthermore, Kate was just as jaded, if not more so, than even Jane, and that shared attribute formed the basis of their bond and endeared them to one another quickly. Jane was relatively new in town and had few local friends, and Kate was a loner in search of a meaningful connection after a span of self-imposed solitude. With the atomic threat looming in the background like a dark cloud, their fast friendship was understandable. Desperate for levity in the face of their bleak circumstances, the two refrained from discussing the events in detail, deferring in favor of lighthearted conversation and reminiscence provided mainly by Jane.

Shortly before noon, Jane's reflections were interrupted by the arrival of the very last person she wanted to see.

"Morning, Will," chirped Gladys, the supervisor in the repository.

"Morning, Gladys. I was wondering if I could borrow your star pupil for a minute."

"Of course. You lovebirds go on ahead to lunch, I'll hold down the fort here," the cheerful woman consented.

Not wanting to cause a scene, Jane went along with the act until the estranged couple was out of earshot in the hallway.

"Who the hell do you think you are?!" she demanded.

"I need to talk to you, and since you refuse to answer my calls I didn't have any other choice but to come down here."

"Doesn't that tell you something?"

"I know you're pissed at me right now."

"That doesn't even begin to describe my feelings towards you. You won, all right? I won't say one word about it now leave me alone," she balked from him.

"Jane, please wait," he implored and gripped her shoulder gently.

"Take your hand off me! Don't you ever touch me again!"

"Would you just calm down and stop treating me like a villain?"

"I will not because that's exactly what you are. You may have fooled me once, but you're damn sure not going to do it twice," she countered and resumed her trek back to her station.

"I fully admit I was a prick, but at least let me try to make amends."

"Go fuck yourself!" she hissed and stormed off as a spurned Will looked on in frustration.

Jane was so mad she could have spit nails. She would have settled for punching him right in his smug face.

"Forget something, hon?" Gladys asked when Jane returned.

"No, it's just that . . . Will and I aren't together anymore."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize."

"It's fine, but if you could deal with him when he comes down here, I'd really appreciate it."

"Of course, I'll take care of him from now on."

"Thanks, Gladys," she exhaled in relief.

Wary the snake would corner her again, Jane decided to skip lunch that day and leave an hour early in an effort to avoid him.


August 29

Jane's spirits received a much-needed boost two days later when she got a call from Carlo Miraldi, the fashion photographer she and Kate had met at Pulse the week prior, telling her that she had made the cut for his spread in Trés Chic. And to top it all, she had been invited to an exclusive party being held the upcoming weekend. Although she would have preferred to get the call a bit later than two a.m., she was thrilled by her accomplishment, and on her first break later that morning she called Kate to share the good news.

Still in bed when the phone buzzed, Katharine haphazardly reached for it on the nightstand. Half asleep with her head buried in her pillow, she did not even bother to check the caller ID.

"Hello?" she answered groggily.

"Are you asleep?"

"Not anymore," Katharine said amidst a yawn.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Katie. I forgot we're not on the same schedule anymore. I'll call back later."

"It's all right, Jane. What's up?" she asked as she turned onto her back.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Okay, so I know you're not the magazine's biggest fan, but I wanted you to be the first to know. I'm in, Katie! I'm gonna be in next March's issue of Trés Chic!" she squealed excitedly.

"That's fantastic, Jane."

"Really? You're not just saying it, are you?"

"Of course not. If it makes you happy, I'm all for it."

"I can't tell you how over the moon I am about it. I haven't felt this good in a long time."

"You deserve it, kiddo."

"And that's not all. All the winners are invited to Justin Daggett's birthday bash."

"Is that the guy on the vampire show you're always raving about?"

"No, you rock dweller. He's the head of Daggett Industries, the biggest company in town since Wayne Enterprises bit the dust."

"Oh yeah, I worked on a job for them about a year or so ago. The owner bitched and moaned about anything and everything. A total asshat with a voice like nails on a chalkboard. No way he was that young though."

"That was his father. He was murdered last year, and the son's inheriting the family biz on his twenty-fifth birthday, which just happens to be this Saturday."

"Oh. I guess I should feel bad about calling him an asshat then. Well, for your sake I hope the apple fell far from the tree and rolled down a steep hill."

"And for yours too because you're coming with me."

"I've gone out with you twice in less than a month, which is a record for me. I think I need a break. What about your boyfriend? Doesn't he want to go?"

Jane had not yet told Kate that she and Will were history and for good reason. It was a bridge she did not want to cross just yet.

"Nah, you know how men are when it comes to anything related to fashion."

"I'm sure you can twist his arm."

"I don't want to twist his arm, I want to twist yours. Please, please, please?"

Their friendship was beginning to feel one-sided to Katharine. It seemed like Jane only called when she wanted to drag her somewhere she didn't want to go. Their first outing had been in celebration of their reconnection, the second she had agreed to out of a sense of obligation, but a third was a bit much to ask, even from a friend. Feeling she had to stick to her guns for once, she chose to decline. Unfortunately, Jane was having none of it and continued her persuasion until Katharine conceded just so that she could salvage some more sleep before her shift at the diner started. She would have given the excuse of working had she not been too tired to think of it. As she waited to drift off to sleep, she did so with the realization that she would have to put her foot down with her domineering friend sooner or later.


August 31

After ironing out the details of what would be their last adventure for a while, Katharine and Jane went dress shopping at a boutique more upscale than the one they had first patronized.

"What do you think?" Katharine asked as she whirled around in a one shoulder black minidress.

"You look great in it, but it's black."

"So?"

"Well, the first dress you bought was black. Don't you want to incorporate a little color into your wardrobe?"

"I like black, it's my favorite color."

"Whatever floats your boat. For me I'm thinking something silver and sparkly."

"Give me a sec, and I'll assist in the search."

As Katharine went into the dressing booth to change, Jane debated whether to come clean about what was going on. On the one hand she wanted to be honest. Remaining silent made her feel like an accomplice of sorts, and there was no question that Kate had a right to know she was being spied on. On the other hand Jane was dying to know the truth. If anyone could find out it was Will, but she hardly approved of his underhanded methods. She was also fearful of the repercussions she would face if he somehow learned that she had tipped Kate off.

"Okay, let's go find you a dress," Katharine reemerged in her street clothes.

Jane agreed with a smile and a nod, and the two of them leisurely browsed the rows of merchandise. She ultimately decided that it was neither the time nor place to have that particular conversation. Nonetheless, she saw no reason she couldn't put out some feelers in the meantime.

"So what do you think of the whole Bane thing?"

"What do you mean?" Katharine asked nonchalantly without turning her attention from the clothes.

"Do you think he's still out there somewhere?"

"From what I gather I seriously doubt it."

"Kind of weird they never found his body though, don't you think?"

"They never found Jimmy Hoffa's either, but I'm still pretty sure he's dead."

"Yeah, but Jimmy Hoffa wasn't a mass murderer."

"Maybe his minions disposed of it," proffered Katharine.

"Maybe. If the bastard is alive, I'd really like to know where he's hiding. Ten million bucks isn't chump change. You could buy a new life with that amount of money."

"How about this one?" Katharine snatched a silver dress in the hopes of changing the subject.

"Too many pleats. What would you do with ten million?"

"Get the hell out of Gotham, for starters."

"You really do hate it here, huh?"

"Just been here too long, that's all."

"Where would you go?"

"I don't know, maybe someplace in Italy."

"I could see that. Fine art, gondolas, hot Italians. Who knows, maybe you'll make it there someday."

"I'm not holding my breath."

"You never know. Life can change for the better sometimes."

"You're quite the optimist today. What gives?"

"Guess I'm just in a good mood," Jane shrugged.

"I'll say."

"What else would you do?"

"About what?"

"With ten million dollars?"

"What's with this hypothetical third degree?"

"Nothing, it's just part of getting to know you better. You said we'd pick back up on that later, right? Well, here we are at later."

"This discussion is pretty pointless though, don't you think?"

"We used to talk about stuff like this all the time."

"Which is exactly why I'm spent on it."

"All right, so what do you want to talk about?"

"Right now I'd like to focus on finding you a dress to wear to that douchebag's party."

"That's a tad premature. You're calling the guy names and you've never even met him."

"No, but I met his father, and if his personality's any indication of junior's, we're in for a swell evening."

"I never put a gun to your head, you know."

"You might as well have," Katharine muttered.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" Jane asked with an incredulous stare.

"Never mind."

"Look, if you don't want to go . . ."

"That's just it, Jane. I don't want to. I tried telling you that, but you just kept on badgering me until you got your way like you always do. I'm sick of playing follow the leader with you, it's all I've done since the day we met."

"Well, excuse me for trying to inject a little fun into your life!" Jane exclaimed and angrily slammed the dress she'd been holding back onto the rack.

"Going out and getting drunk may be your idea of fun, but it's not mine."

"Oh no, you'd rather sit in your apartment and pretend the world doesn't exist. Well, news flash Katie, it does, and you should try enjoying it while you have the chance. Jesus, you weren't this bad when we were sitting around waiting to die."

"If you have a problem with the way I am then go find someone else to get trashed with from now on and save me the trouble," Katharine snapped before grabbing her purse and practically running out of the store.


September 1

Despite the fact she knew she was in the right, Katharine felt pangs of guilt the day after her falling out with Jane. She had felt pressured into attending the party, but after a period of reflection, she regretted the way she had handled the situation. It was obvious that she'd hurt Jane, which was something she never intended to do. Having let her ill feelings towards the late Daggett get the best of her, she had prejudged his son unfairly just as Jane had accused. Irritated by Jane's relentless insistence that she accompany her, her already sour mood took a turn for the worse when Jane introduced the topic of Bane into their dialogue. Although she could not vocally admit it, Jane's derision of him had gotten under Katharine's skin. He had committed horrible crimes, but he had also saved her life on two occasions. She wondered if Jane's opinion would change in the slightest had the latter been aware of that reality. In the end she doubted it.

Seeking solace in the form of retail therapy, she had returned to the clothing outlet the next day and splurged on the dress she'd tried on before the blowout. She picked up the phone several times with the intent of calling her friend and apologizing, but each time her pride had won out. It wasn't until seven that she finally relented and dialed Jane's number.

"If you're calling to bitch me out again, save your breath," Jane answered hostilely.

"No, I called to say I'm sorry. I went overboard. Can you forgive me?"

The admonition was stinging, but Jane could tell that the apology was made in earnest, and she was not one to hold a grudge, especially against Kate, who was her best friend for better or worse.

"Sure I can. Anyway, I thought about it, and you're right. I have been calling the shots too long. From now on how about we only do things we both want to do?"

"I know I'm not exactly a social butterfly, but I'm sure we can find common ground."

"Definitely. Listen, I'm really glad you called, but I've gotta start getting ready. The party starts in two hours."

"Still want a plus one?"

"That's sweet of you, Katie, but you don't have to."

"I know, but it's not like I have anything better to do. You're right; I should spread my wings a little while I'm still young enough."

"If you really want to, I'd love for you to come."

"In that case I'll see you there at nine."

"All right, but next time you pick what we do, okay?"

"Deal."


It had been a week since he had implemented his covert surveillance operation, and he had yet to discover even the slightest piece of proof to corroborate his theory about Kate. He had followed her almost everywhere she went everywhere she went, listened in on her calls, searched every nook and cranny of her residence and had still come up empty-handed. With nothing material to go on, his quest had hit a major roadblock. He attempted to cushion the blow of his initial failure by reminding himself that he'd only been at it for a short time, but it was to no avail. In less than two months his dominion over Jane would be terminated, which would leave her free to blow him out of the water and end his distinguished career.

He'd jeopardized everything for the truth—his job, reputation, and even sleep—and had lost Jane in the process, but he had persisted on his path because of his resolute confidence that he would be vindicated when all was said and done. Kate Lowry would be exposed as a terrorist sympathizer at best or a bona fide traitor at worst all thanks to his perseverance. He knew he was right, he could feel it in his bones. That is until he couldn't. After his risky efforts yielded no substantial evidence whatsoever, he found himself questioning his judgment.

After sitting in his car outside Kate's apartment for the better part of that balmy summer night, Will threw in the towel around eight in favor of indulging in a much-needed respite. As he steered towards his destination he was overcome with fear highly uncharacteristic of him. What if Jane was right? What if he really had come undone? As much as the notion unnerved him, it was one he had to consider. His profession was based on empirical data, facts that could be proved or disproved beyond a shadow of a doubt. If his investigation of Kate had been formal, it would never have made it past his desk, for even the anecdotal evidence was especially flimsy.

Determined to forget the case for an hour or so, he pulled into the rear parking lot of the Garden of Eden. Once inside, he was delighted by the sight of the enchanting redhead he'd met there back in the winter.

"Detective," she greeted after sauntering over to his table.

"Hello, Natasha."

"You remembered my name. I'm flattered."

"What can I say? I never forget a pretty face."

"Neither do I," she smiled coyly. "Is your purpose business or pleasure this evening?"

"Strictly pleasure."

"I'm happy to hear that. Can I interest you in a private show?"

"After my regrettable behavior the first time around I thought you might still be sore at me."

"Life's too short to waste time on petty things like that, wouldn't you agree?"

"Couldn't have said it better myself. I think I'll take you up on your offer."

"Follow me," she instructed with a sensual gaze.

Natasha then led the way to one of the velvet cloisters.

"If it's okay with you, I'll skip the speech," she offered.

"By all means."

"You strike me as a creature of habit, Detective. Am I right?"

"You've got me pegged."

"I take it you want a slow dance then?"

"The slower the better."

"How's this sound?" Natasha asked his opinion of the song when she selected.

"Fine."

Piece by piece the glamorous dancer removed her glittery getup. Once she was au naturel, she straddled his lap and moved her limber body in tune with the mellow music.

"You seem tense," she observed in a whisper.

"You're very perceptive."

"Troubles at work?"

"Troubles everywhere, sorry to say."

"That's a shame. I feel for you, I truly do."

"Thanks."

"Try to forget all that. Concentrate on where you are right now."

That was no challenge. He was at the Garden of Eden, the place his most recent woes had originated. As Natasha writhed around atop him in all her glorious nudity, the wheels of his mind spun feverishly. Even months after the fact, Will found it somewhat mystifying that the club was able to stay open during the occupation. One would think that a building full of gorgeous, oft naked women would have been one of the first locations targeted by the rabid horde Bane had maliciously unloosed from Blackgate.

"Did you ever have any problems here during the occupation?"

"And here you said your purpose was pleasure," she sighed.

"It's just that with all the maniacs running wild at that time I'd think you girls would've been in grave danger."

"Fishing for information again? Naughty boy," she teasingly reprimanded.

"I just find it difficult to understand how you and your coworkers managed to stay safe at such an enticing establishment."

"Your point's kind of moot, wouldn't you say?"

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?"

"Do you ever go off duty, Detective?"

"Do you remember the missing woman I told you about the last time I was here?"

"Vaguely."

"I think she may have been abducted by the terrorists, possibly even Bane himself."

"Not him again," she scoffed.

"I've established a link between the two of them, but it's not enough to satisfy my superiors. If I'm going to build a solid case, I'm going to need more than what I've got."

"I already told you I don't know anything about it."

"I know, and I believe you, but there are so many things that don't make sense to me."

"You and everyone else on earth."

"Bane controlled every inch of this city from October to February. Did the club remain open that entire time?"

"What difference does that make now?"

She was being evasive, answering his questions with sarcasm and dismissing his points. As an experienced interrogator, he could sense that she knew more than she was saying. Perhaps there was a reason he had ended up back at square one, one that had nothing to do with recreation.

"It might make all the difference in the world. Please answer the question."

"Yes, it was open all that time."

"Without incident?"

"You paid me to take off my clothes not answer your questions. Now just sit back, relax, and enjoy the show," she urged.

Will the man wanted to heed Natasha's advice. Will the detective wanted to keep digging. As usual, his dominant side won out.

"I need to speak with the owner," Will insisted.

"He isn't here."

"When will he be back?"

"When he feels like it."

"I don't have time for this," he griped. "How did this place stay open and remain undamaged for months with a thousand criminals at large?"

"How should I know?" she asked indignantly.

"Because you were here."

"You're breaking the rules, Detective. If you want me to continue I suggest you follow my directions."

"Please just tell me the truth, that's all I ask."

"You should leave."

"Your boss made a deal with Bane to keep his cash cow off limits to the cons, didn't he?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. If you've got beef with Gus, take it up with him not me. If you don't leave right now I'm going to call security."

"He came here, didn't he? He had to in order to make the agreement. What did Gus give him in exchange for protection?"

"Have it your way," she began walking to the button that would summon the bouncers if pressed.

"Please, Natasha, you're my last hope."

It wasn't the first time Natasha had been on the receiving end of a man's appeals and it probably would not be the last. But the way he begged separated him from his predecessors. He was desperate, that much she could tell. Touched by his dedication to one of her former colleagues, she decided to throw him a bone.

"All right! But you have to promise me you'll keep your voice down, I don't want to lose my job over this bullshit."

"You have my word."

After several seconds of hesitation, Natasha capitulated.

"It's true, but I don't know what Gus paid him, I swear to God."

"Did you ever see him here?"

"No, just some of his cronies every now and then."

"How do you know about the deal?"

"We were terrified the inmates would come here. We were going to bail and Gus knew it. He did what he did to protect his interests and ours. He could never have kept the place open otherwise."

"Did you ever see Kate Lowry with Bane here or anywhere else?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Do you know if she knew about the deal? Or Jane Mitchell?"

"We all knew about it."

"Son of a bitch!"

Another crucial detail Jane had omitted. Natasha's disclosure left him wondering just what else his estranged girlfriend was hiding.

"Are you going to go after Gus for this?"

As much as he wanted to condemn the proprietor, Will was unable to. Gus may have danced with the devil, but in doing so he had kept his employees safe throughout the tribulation. He was not willing to punish the man for that even if the deed had been born of greed.

"No. It's like you said, he did what he had to do. And since his actions resulted in the survival of numerous citizens, I can't find fault in them."

"I ought to charge you double for that little stunt," the amber-haired beauty folded her arms in a belligerent stance after she finished dressing.

Will pulled out his wallet and handed Natasha an additional hundred dollar bill.

"You earned it."

"For the sake of your finances and my sanity, do us both a service and don't come back here, Detective."

"I do believe my business here is done. Thank you, Natasha."

The prurient performer slinked away without another word, and Will made haste to the main exit.


Nestled in the heart of the city's Upper East Side, Daggett Tower was the archetype of the excessive grandeur Gotham was famous for. Standing at nearly eighty stories tall, the monument to decadence kissed the skyline, dwarfed its neighbors, and served as a physical representation of the disparity between the elite and everyone else. The newly reconciled friends arrived at the flagship high-rise just as the gala was getting underway, and Jane spotted a familiar face in the lavish foyer almost straightaway.

"Look, there's Carlo!" Jane pointed to the photographer who had discovered her. "Let's go say hi."

Once again Katharine found herself following Jane's lead, but this time she wasn't annoyed. If rubbing elbows with fashion snobs put a smile on her only friend's face, she was willing to grin and bear it.

"Ah, Gianna, so glad you could make it," the Italian clutched Jane's hands and kissed her on both cheeks as was customary in his culture.

"Carlo, you remember my friend Kate."

"Ah, yes, it's a pleasure to see you again, bella donna. Though I must say I was disappointed not to have had you in my studio."

"Nice to see you as well, Mr. Miraldi," she reciprocated.

"Please call me Carlo."

"Only if you call me Katharine."

"Of course, my dear. Allow me to introduce you lovely ladies to my associates. These are my assistants, Marco and Stefan," Carlo presented the men, who nodded politely. "And this handsome gentleman is our gracious host for tonight, Mr. Justin Daggett. Mr. Daggett, this is Jane, one of the models in my upcoming layout, and her charming companion Katharine."

With his sandy hair, perfect teeth, and toned physique, the younger Daggett was far more attractive than the elder. Having conducted a Web search on the heir, Katharine accredited his appearance to his mother, a Swedish model turned trophy wife who had divorced John Daggett a decade earlier on the grounds of infidelity.

"Good evening, ladies. I'm honored to have you join us," the young magnate greeted his guests with a smile.

"Happy Birthday, Mr. Daggett!" Jane trumpeted.

"Happy Birthday," Katharine echoed her sentiments, though not as enthusiastically.

"Thank you, that's very kind. I hope you enjoy the festivities."

"Thank you, I'm sure we will," Jane responded before she and Katharine made way for the other guests waiting to be received.

"I think he mistook you for someone else," Katharine observed.

"Who?"

"Your guru, he called you Gianna."

"That's the Italian version of Jane."

"Oh."

"Justin's a hottie, isn't he?"

"Eh, not my type."

"I thought you didn't have a type."

"I have enough of one to know he's not it. Do you know anyone here besides Carlo?"

"As a matter of fact I do."

"Who?"

"The birthday boy."

"You just met him."

"Exactly," Jane smirked impishly.

Three hours later, Jane and Justin were joined at the hip. Taken by Jane, he had invited her, Katharine, and several other women to be featured in Gorgeous Gotham up to his penthouse for the after-party. Other attendees included Daggett's buddies and business associates. Of course the man of the evening was the star of the show, regaling his predominantly female entourage with tales of his athletic achievements and close ties with celebrities. Everyone ate it up save Katharine, who sensed he was either exaggerating his experiences or making them up altogether. By one o'clock she'd had enough, but unfortunately her admission ticket was not of the same mind.

Having imbibed a steady supply of Cristal throughout the night, Jane was bordering on drunkenness. The way she was canoodling with their host left Katharine to wonder whether she had forgotten she had a boyfriend. When Mr. Charisma began to whisk her friend away to another part of the spacious suite, Katharine's instincts kicked in, and she made a beeline to the pair in the hallway.

"Where are you going?" she asked Jane.

"Jane and I want to get to know each other better in a more quiet setting," Justin butted in.

"It's late, Jane. We really should get going."

"What are you talking about? The night is young!" Jane asserted.

"Mr. Daggett, would you excuse us please? I need to talk to Jane alone for a minute."

"God, quit acting like my mother already!"

"Yeah, lighten up," Justin chimed in rudely.

"I'll be out in a few, now go have some fun!" Jane advised and took off with her new pal down the marble corridor as a worried Katharine looked on.

Going home with a stranger was no crime in and of itself, but Jane was in a relationship, and as such Katharine could not condone her friend's behavior, her inebriated state aside. However, Jane was right; she had no right to tell her how to live her life. But she couldn't just leave Jane alone with an opportunist like Daggett in her vulnerable condition, her conscience would not allow it. With her hands figuratively tied, all she could do was hope that Jane would not do something she would regret. To that end she parked herself on an upholstered bench nearby and waited for Jane to emerge.

Behind closed doors, Justin was preparing to add another notch to his already crowded bedpost. Luckily for him, his soon-to-be-conquest would be an easy feat, as she was fully intoxicated due to the last glass of bubbly he'd coaxed her into having.

"So I don't want to be a party pooper or a-anything," Jane stammered as she draped her arms around his neck, "but I just want you to know how sorry I am about your dad."

Under the influence of alcohol himself, Justin's tongue was quite liberal in the privacy of his posh quarters.

"That makes one of us."

"What do you mean?"

"Good riddance, that's what."

"How can you say that? Jane asked in disbelief. "He's your father."

"He was also a first-class dick, and I'm not sorry he's gone."

"You can't really mean that . . . about not being sorry."

"Why not? I'm a billionaire thanks to whoever took him out. I'd like to shake the man's hand."

As hardened a person as she was, as plastered as she was, Jane was still repulsed by Justin's words. How could anyone say something so awful about their own flesh and blood?

"Okay, new topic."

"I'm all talked out. What's say we take this exclusive party in the bedroom and do what we came here to do?"

"I don't know. I'm feeling a little loopy."

"So I am. It'll make it all the more fun," he claimed as he massaged her shoulders from behind the couch.

"I really shouldn't, my friend's waiting for me," she reminded.

"She's probably out there having a good time by now," he continued his attempt to sway her as he brazenly gorged on her neck.

"Maybe some other time, J.D.," she stood up, causing his hands to fall away from her.

While Jane dizzily retrieved her purse, Daggett rounded the sectional sofa to meet her.

"Do you honestly think I went through all this trouble just to talk to you?"

"Excuse me?" Jane asked confoundedly.

"I've given you a lot tonight, Jane. Food, drink, atmosphere. I think I deserve a little something in return for my generosity, don't you?"

"I'm your guest, I don't owe you a goddamn thing!" Jane blasted and whizzed past him.

"Where do you think you're going?" he grabbed her arm.

"Let go of me!" she yelped and fought him. With nearly a foot and a hundred pounds on Jane, her new friend turned enemy easily overpowered her.

"You know what you are, Jane? Do you?" he slammed her against the wall by her shoulders. "You're a fucking cock tease, that's what you are! Hanging all over me all night, taking advantage of my hospitality. Well, now it's my turn," he pulled her arm, causing her to shriek in protest.

Outside the room, a drowsy Katharine was stirred by the scream she knew came from Jane. She catapulted from the davenport to the door. In what was most likely an oversight on his part, Daggett had left the door unlocked. His loss was her gain, and she burst into the room to find the punk manhandling her friend.

"Get off of her, you piece of shit!"

"Get the fuck out of my apartment, you cunt!" Justin commanded while lunging towards her furiously.

Katharine then procured her pistol from her bag, an action that stopped the maggot dead in his tracks.

"You were saying?"

"All right, all right, just take it easy," he said and raised his hands in submission.

"Let's go, Jane."

Jane rushed to the door.

"Unless you want this story told to the press I strongly suggest you let us leave peacefully," Katharine warned.

Knowing the women had the upper hand, Justin agreed with a resentful nod, and they immediately hightailed it out of the skyscraper.


Not wanting to leave Jane by herself after her harrowing ordeal, Katharine insisted she spend the night at her apartment. Arriving by way of taxi, she tended to her shaken friend, who was still reeling from the effects of the booze. After spending an extended period in the bathroom preventing Jane's hair from falling in the toilet, Katharine lent her a pair of sleeping clothes and got her settled down for the night.

"I'm such a fuck up," Jane lamented as she crawled into bed.

"No you're not," Katharine reassured as she sat beside her.

"You tried to stop me, but I didn't listen because I'm an idiot."

"Everyone makes mistakes, Jane."

"I make too damn many."

"I'm just glad we came out of it unscathed."

"I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't been there," Jane said softly. "Nothing I could've done," she shook her head.

"Don't think about it. It's all over, you're safe now," Katharine patted Jane's hand supportively.

"I don't deserve to have you as a friend."

"Don't be crazy, of course you do."

"No, I don't," Jane reiterated. "What you did for me tonight . . . I'll never forget it as long as I live," she avowed with tears in her eyes and hugged her friend tightly.

"Shh," Katharine assuaged and stroked Jane's back in a soothing manner.

"Thank you," Jane whispered.

"That's what friends are for, kiddo."

Jane then broke the embrace and leaned back on the headboard.

"You need to rest. We'll talk more tomorrow," she pledged as she rose from the bed.

Jane was racked with guilt. She couldn't take it any longer, she had to unburden herself for both their sakes.

"We need to talk now."

"Whatever you want to say can wait until after you get some sleep."

"No, it can't."

"All right," Katharine sat back down.

"You know the guy I told you I was seeing?"

"Yeah, the firefighting mystery man I have yet to meet."

"I haven't been completely truthful about him."

"How so?"

"Will's not a firefighter; he's a cop. A detective, actually."

"Oh. Why'd you lie about that?"

"Christ, I don't even know where to begin," she sighed and rubbed her face.

"Begin at the beginning."

"I met him at the police department when I tried to report you missing."

"You reported me missing? When?"

"A few days after you disappeared. Well, I tried to, but according to their stupid little rules, only a relative can do that."

"Oh. Well, you found me anyway . . . or I found you, rather. No harm done."

"You have no idea how much I wish that was true."

The grim look on Jane's face told Katharine that something was very, very wrong.

"Jane, what are you trying to say?"

"The cop who turned me away offered to help even though the investigation wasn't official."

"What investigation?"

"The investigation into your disappearance."

"I told you where I was."

"You did, but before you did someone else did."

"Who?"

"Kyle. He said you were kidnapped at City Hall."

Katharine's pulse skyrocketed as panic consumed her.

"He told me he saw you being shoved in a van by a man with a gun. He told the detective who later became my boyfriend the exact same story," Jane continued.

"He was obviously wrong."

"Was he?" Jane leaned forward.

"Of course he was. You know I wasn't kidnapped."

"I know you weren't in the hospital. Will checked the admissions records."

Time seemed to cease. Katharine could hear her racing heart. Each word of the sickening sentence reverberated in her fraught mind over and over again. It took every ounce of discipline within her to sit still as her house of cards collapsed down on her.

"How did he do that? Medical records are confidential."

"I don't know, but he did."

"Well, he must've missed me."

"I read it, Katie. Every page. You weren't there. Why did you lie to me?"

"I didn't."

"I wish I could believe you, but I can't."

"Think about it, Jane. How would I be here now if I'd been abducted?"

"I don't know. I don't understand any of this, and I won't be able to unless you tell me the truth. Will you do that for me?"

"I have told you the truth."

"Will thinks you're involved with the terrorists, that you may even be one yourself."

"Why the hell would he think that?!"

"I told him about your . . . encounter with Bane. He doesn't buy that it was coincidental, he thinks there must have been a reason he saved you."

"If there is, I don't know it."

"He wants the truth, and he's not going to stop until he gets it. I tried to get him to come to his senses, but he won't listen to me."

"I haven't done anything wrong, Jane. If he wants to come after me, let him."

"He's obsessed, he's not operating within the law. He's been spying on you, he probably still is."

"For how long?"

"A couple of weeks that I know of."

"Your flaky boyfriend's been stalking me for two weeks and you're just now telling me about it?!" Katharine jumped to her feet.

"He's not my boyfriend anymore, I broke up with him as soon as I found out what he was doing."

"Maybe I should turn the tables on him, file a restraining order."

"That's not a bad idea . . . as long as you have nothing to hide."

"Get some sleep, we'll figure this out in the morning," Katharine proceeded to the bedroom door.

"I'm so sorry, Katie. If I could take it all back I would. You know that, right?"

"Yeah," she affirmed before switching the light and closing the door.

While Jane was drifting off to sleep, Katharine was more wired than she had ever been in her life after learning she had an unstable cop on her heels. If Jane's analysis was accurate, he would be ready to pounce at the slightest hint of anything amiss. Fortunately she had not engaged in anything that was even remotely suspicious. Since returning to Gotham she had done nothing except go to work, go out with Jane, and . . .

The money!

A chill ran down her spine at the dreadful realization. She had opened her safe deposit box only two weeks prior. He could have followed her and witnessed the entire incident. On the chance that he was able to somehow obtain access to it, she had no way to explain the funds save the truth. She could not break her promise to Barsad, not even to save her own skin. She loved Bane too much to endanger him. That left her with only one option: She had to get the money and get out of Gotham on the double.

When she was certain that Jane was asleep, she snuck out of her apartment and hailed a taxi to the bank. When she reached her destination she looked behind her every few seconds to make sure the cop wasn't tailing her. To her relief the bank was deserted in the wee hours of the morning. Moving as quickly as she could, she unlocked the box, withdrew the bag, and hustled out of the bank. As she waited at the curb for another cab to appear, a voice rang out from behind her.

"Going somewhere, Kate?"

She whipped around in unadulterated horror to find an ordinary looking man of average weight and height lurking beneath the cover of darkness.

"Who are you?"

"I think you know."

"What do you want with me?"

"The truth, just as Jane told you a few hours ago."

"How . . ." her speech died and her eyes widened in shock.

"I'll be happy to answer all of your questions once we're alone."

She went for her gun, but he defeated her in the race.

"Remove your hands from the bag," he calmly ordered as he aimed his Glock discreetly so as not to cause an uproar if anyone happened upon the scene.

She dropped her hands in surrender, and he confiscated both of her bags.

"You can't arrest me, I haven't committed a crime!" she contested as he frisked her.

"Who said anything about arresting?"

"You're going to kidnap me?"

"You should be a pro at that by now."

"You're insane!" she gasped.

"I think you'll change your mind about that after I've laid out my case. My car's across the street. Walk slowly."

"You're making a huge mistake. You won't get away with this."

"We'll see about that, Miss Lowry. We will see."


Author's Note: How livid do you guys think Bane will be when he discovers what has happened to Katharine? Does anyone believe that Will's radical actions are justified? What do you think Jane will do if she finds out? What do you think of my decision to give Daggett a son who's just as sleazy as him? Please share your thoughts and any others you may have with me in a review. I write for my readers just as much as I do for myself :)