3 Years Ago

"You can't be serious."

"I'm sorry, Miss Tenyeck, I really am," David folded his hands in front of him on the thick mahogany desk. His dark gaze was intense, but firm. She would negotiate most things with him. Salary, time off, equipment, staffing, but this wasn't something she would be able to talk her way out of.

"It wasn't my fault. The hospital ignored what I told them. I said it was still in the testing phases and-"

"I know," he cut her off, with one hand lifted. Owen, in one corner, looked as calm as he ever did, but she knew well that if it came down to it he would forcefully escort her out of the CEO's office. "But I can't take chances like this right now. We're under too much scrutiny. You're a liability right now."

A liability.

She had been working on this for years. She had poured her blood, sweat, and tears literally into this project. And he was going to cut her off, just like that?

"If this was weapons manufacturing, you would fight tooth and nail for me," she snapped viciously. The security camera in the corner flashed it's red light at her. Her fingers curled into fists so tight her gloves creaked.

"If this was weapons manufacturing the incident would never have occured, and your department would be far more lucrative. I'll expect your office to be cleared out by the end of the day. Do we understand each other?"

Owen watched her. The camera blinked indifferently. David tapped his two front fingers together.

"Yes," she bit out. "We understand each other."

Owen took a step towards her and she stepped back, her green eyes flashing. "I can see myself out, thanks," she snapped. She flipped a bird at the camera and stormed out of the office. She made sure she slammed the door closed on the way out.

Camera's tracked her through the long halls of TouchStone until she ducked into one of the server rooms on the eighteenth floor. From there it was easy to disable the camera's on all of the floors. He said she had until the end of the day to clear out her office. She planned on taking more than just her stapler home.

Lenore downloaded everything off of her computer onto five flash drives and filled a box with papers, plants, and shitty birthday cards. Then she went down to the labs. Her card still opened the door and she made her way quickly to the airtight room where her projects were kept. She frantically crammed as many computers into bags as she could before she turned to the brightly glowing cylinder in the corner. Ever-so-carefully she disengaged the magnetic locks and cradled it to her chest. It was cold to the touch, and the key pad glowed faintly even in the bright lab light.

On the side read CAVALRY.

That she placed in her purse, where it would be safe, and promptly started tipping over tables and destroying equipment. Blood samples shattered against the walls and chemicals broke against the floor. She took a scalpel and jammed it roughly into the light socket until the room went black.

Before she went further she paid David one last visit. Blood stained her gloves after.

She left with three bags and a box of office supplies. The lobby cameras came back on just in time to snap a picture of a blonde woman leaving with arms full of stolen computer supplies.

Each of the bags was dumped in alleys on her way down the street. She didn't go back to her apartment. She couldn't afford to.

From her phone she transferred all of her savings to off shore accounts under other names, like David had once shown her nearly a year ago. The she booked a private flight from NYC to Alaska.

The only thing she took with her was her purse, filled with an umbrella, receipts, her wallet, and CAVALRY.

Now

Her head was killing her.

Although that was the only thing that hurt. Which was… not right.

No, not right at all.

She should have been in a lot of pain. The last thing she remembered was her back being burnt by flames, and her leg being stabbed by shrapnel. And, of course, her head being smacked by flying rubble.

Only her head still hurt, but that wasn't the pain on the back that came from impact. It was the vice grip that came from tension. She'd been getting them for months now.

She opened her eyes slowly.

Lenore could smell disinfectant and metal. The ceiling was white and for an instant panic seized her that she was in a hospital.

But the panic abated, and she realized that it wasn't a hospital. There wasn't enough noise. There were no announcements, nor the clatter of footsteps. She could hear cars passing nearby, but no ambulances or anything like that. It smelled like disinfectant, but it wasn't as sterile as a hospital would be. She could smell flowers underneath it, and something sweet. The sheets smelled like real detergent.

Lenore sat up slowly. She was still in her own clothes. Her long sleeved shirt barely hung on at this point. Most of the back was blown off. Her gloves were still secure.

When she pulled the sheets back her jeans were gone though.

Unfortunate.

A look around the little room she found herself in showed her boots in one corner.

I could walk out right now in a tattered shirt and underwear. But that's probably a bad idea.

The door opened. A woman about her age, maybe a little older, walked in. There was a gold hairpin on the side of her head.

"Oh good, you're awake," she smile at Len, who tried to return it, but she was pretty sure it was more like a grimace. "You were in pretty bad shape when the boys brought you here. So bad, I barely had to lift a finger to fix it."

"Uh. Okay?" What a weird woman. Len looked down at herself. It must have been some kind of special power. There wasn't another option. She hadn't reached her bag.

Her bag.

Len stiffened, but didn't otherwise react. Her gaze darted around swiftly. There. On the desk.

Thank god.

"Where am I?" she asked at last. She cleared her throat and tried to remind herself to shrink down. To be less than what she was.

"At our office," the woman said, like that was a real answer.

"Uh huh."

"Oh. Sorry, I guess they didn't introduce themselves or anything. We're the Armed Detective Agency. Two of our agents were at the scene of the explosion, and they brought you here to me. You're very lucky. You could have died if that hadn't."

She wouldn't have. She was too stubborn for that.

"Then, thank you? Can I have my pants back?"

"Oh, I had those burned," she said cheerfully. "They really wouldn't do you a lot of good anymore, miss Lawson."

Len's cheek twitched. Right. She was Tamara Lawson now. She forced herself to shrink further beneath her skin, packing away parts of herself piece by piece.

"You always burn other people's property?"

"When it's covered in blood, sure I do. It's a health hazard, you know."

Yeah, she did know. She was a doctor, after all.

Except no, Tamara wasn't a doctor.

"Ah!" A head popped up over the woman's shoulder. "She's awake!"

Len blinked at him. "Hey! You're the guy that was on the street! The one I fell on!"

"Oh good, you remember me," he smiled at her sweetly and came around the woman. "I was worried getting your head knocked like that might have made you forget everything. That would be truly terrible. A worse fate than death itself. "

"I mean. Okay?" She didn't disagree.

"Here," he swung a bag around from behind his back. "I brought you a change of clothes, since yours got toasted."

"Oh. Uh, thanks? But I can't really repay you guys…"

"Sure you can," he swung a chair around to straddle it at her bedside. "You can answer a few questions for me, and we'll call it square. Deal?"

"Depends," Len pulled the sheet back over her bare legs and crossed them. "What are the questions about?"

"Don't harass the patient too much, Dazai." the woman scolded.

The man, Dazai, pouted at her. "I won't. I won't. Promise, Yosano."

Yosano rolled her eyes at him and left the pair of them alone.

"So. The questions?" Len prompted. She tried to make sure her eyes were wide and blank and boring.

"Right, right. They're pretty simple. I just need to know everything you noticed before the bombs went off. Any detail could be crucial."

"I see. So you're investigating the explosions? She said you were detectives."

"Yes, that's right. The Armed Detective Agency. We received an anonymous tip that there would be a bomb planted that day. We need to find out who did it, before they do it again. So, tell me everything, and I'll give you these clothes," he waved them at her.

"Bribing a young woman who's been traumatized, kidnapped and stripped with clothes is kinda shady, you know," Len told him dryly. She couldn't help it. It just slipped out.

She got a startled laugh out of him. "Ah ha! So it is. Does that mean you're not interested in playing this little game?"

Lenore huffed. "Honestly. You could have just asked me. No need to be a weirdo about it. I didn't see a whole lot."

"Then start from the beginning. Where were you going?"

Lenore tilted her head and closed her eyes. Her head was still swimming, and parts of herself didn't want to be packed away. She chaffed under being made small, being made less. Her mouth ran away from her.

"Well… I was on my way to fight god, and then the building exploded, and now I'm here."

They stared at each other.

"I hope you win," he nodded sagely. "Before it exploded did you see anyone strange, or hear anything?"

"No, I can't say that I did. Although, I did smell sulfur before all three of them."

"Mmm. I noticed that as well. Curious, isn't it? C4 tends to smell like motor oil. Dynamite smells like bananas. Nitroglycerin can smell like burnt marshmallows. Many years ago the British Armed Forces developed a plastic explosive that smelled distinctly like almonds. Curious, isn't it?"

"I'm not really an expert on explosives. Although I've lit my fair share of kitchen fires…"

"Anything else? Nothing besides the smell stuck out to you?"

Len shook her head. "No. Just. Sulfur."

She hadn't heard a ticking, like a clock counting down, or anything like that. She still thought the timing and the placement was strange.

But it wasn't really her concern. She needed to get her bag and get out of here. It wasn't a hospital, but it was a detective agency. That was almost worse.

"I don't think I can be of more help. Can I have those clothes now?"

"In a moment. I have one more question for you."

Lenore jerked when his whole personality shifted. He grabbed one hand between two of his and cradled them. His eyes shone.

"Would you consider dying with me?"

Was he serious?

"No way in hell."

He fell straight off the chair.

"So cruel."

"You just asked me to die! Gimme the clothes, you dick wagon!"

He handed the bag over and sulked away, grumbling under his breath. Len made sure that he was gone entirely, and put a chair under the door for good measure. There weren't any cameras in the room, so she traded out her ruined shirt for a new one. It was long sleeved and white, and they'd found a pair of black pants and some socks for her too.

For her own sake she assumed the doctor had guessed her bra and underwear size.

Once her gloves were secure and her boots were on she flipped open her bag.

CAVALRY rested safely inside. It's new container looked like a plain thermos, in case something like this happened. Well. Not like this. She never planned on getting involved in this bizarre crap. But in case someone saw inside her bag.

"Soon," she touched the cool metal. A shock raced from it to her fingers. She'd be finished soon. She'd been so close when David had ousted her. When those stupid doctor had ignored her and-

Len shut the bag and stood up. She checked herself in the glass cases that lined the walls. She managed to clean up her hair until it was less of a tangled birds nest. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her mouth was thinned out. Her make up had been washed off, along with whatever grime came from the explosion and the street. The cuts on the side of her face were gone, but an old scar dragged down from above her eyebrow almost to the corner of her mouth.

Well. She didn't have all of her make up here, so she couldn't do anything about that now.

She pulled a baseball cap out of her bag and flicked it out. She dragged her hair out the back of it in a mockery of a pony tail.

Good enough.

She removed the chair and double checked that she had her wallet and her cell phone before she pulled the door open and stepped out into a long hallway.

The man from before was standing outside, playing a handheld game. When he looked up at her he smiled wide. His brown eyes glittered strangely.

"Miss Lawson, I just knew those clothes would look splendid on you. And I was correct! Please, let me walk you home."

Home. Right. She grimaced minutely.

"That's fine. I'm not in the habit of taking strange men home with me."

"Aw, you think I'm strange?" he placed his hand over his head. "You wound me."

"I am fine with that, my dude."

Some of his flamboyance eased. He put the game back in his pocket.

"Miss Lawson. We are a detective agency. So I know that you only arrived in the city not long ago, and that you don't have a real place to stay. You got pretty banged up, and in the process you were basically a human shield for me. Even if that wasn't your intention. So let me put you up for at least a couple of nights."

It would be beyond stupid for her to say yes. This man was a detective, and what's more he was a strange man. But…

The hotel would have already given her room away, and anything she left inside of it too. And while this guy was kinda weird, she wasn't getting a bad vibe from him. Just a weird one. He was way flamboyant, and who asked someone to die with them?

Still. She didn't have a lot of options. Hotels were a risk, and she'd gone to different ones every few days for the last… fuck. For the last two months at least, ever since Anchorage.

Well. If worse came to worse she was pretty sure she could stab him and run.

"Fine."

He beamed at her. "Wonderful!"

Weirdo.