Alison would have sighed in relief the moment it had been determined that she would become the newest Assistant District Attorney. However, she was still in the presence of the staff of the DA's office. The secretary was in the process of taking her on a tour of the facility, showing her the different rooms and introducing her to coworkers that she would begin seeing on the daily basis, starting next week. The timeframe of when she actually started worked in her favor, actually. It gave her plenty of time to plan. For now, though, she smiled politely, memorizing names with faces.

The DA's office was different than what she had left behind. Like everything in Banshee, it had relocated. The building was bigger and nicer. Alison supposed it had to be. There was more than just three people working at the DA's office now. Currently, there were four ADAs. She would be number five come next Monday. Of course, there was the actual DA as well, but she had yet to meet him. There was an administrative staff. A payroll staff. And an HR department. Two years ago, one person had been in charge of all those roles. Two years ago, it had only been herself and a somewhat incompetent Assistant District Attorney. They had worked closely with City Hall, though, so workload had never been a substantial problem. Now, it seemed as though the workload had gotten larger in the two years she had been gone.

"And this will be your office," the secretary stated kindly as she pushed open a glass door. All of the offices were separated by thick decorative glass. The crinkled glass was enough to give privacy, but silhouettes could be made out as well. Alison crossed her arms as she moved into the office. The room hadn't been furbished yet. There were no desk or chair, bookcases, or file cabinets. "Of course, we were expecting an interview, Ms. Medding, but we had no idea how quickly you would be hired on. Your records must be impeccable!" Alison smiled lightly, but chose not to comment.

Honestly, she hadn't recognized any of the staff here. Even that incompetent ADA had apparently moved on from the DA's office. In a way, it left her feeling a bit wistful. So much change. It would seem that her time as District Attorney had been forgotten, too. Even the hiring manager had been surprised by her background. Alison gaze continued to move about the room, already visualizing where she would put things. While she hadn't been the District Attorney for long before up and resigning, she had believed she had put enough criminals away to be, at least, partially acknowledged for the hard work she had put in. Still, there was some good in it. It meant she could stay below the radar until necessary. Maybe it wouldn't be necessary.

"It's nice, isn't it?" A new voice caused Alison to shift her eyes from the window. Arms still crossed over her chest, she turned towards the door. Standing next to the secretary was an unfamiliar face. He was tall with short dark hair and a fair complexion. His eyes were light in color and pretended to study the room. With his hands in the pockets of his dark blue suit, he appeared entirely nonchalant. But there was something familiar in his eye. Couldn't tell what it was, though. Not yet, at least. Alison chose not to respond. Because of that, the man finally settled his line of sight on her. "Your new office," he clarified. "You are the new Assistant District Attorney, aren't you?"

"Yes, Mr. Franklin," the secretary spoke for her. "This is Alison Medding. She was hired today, and will be starting next week." The petite woman remained close to the door as this Mr. Franklin took a few steps towards Alison. "Ms. Medding, this is our District Attorney, Mark Franklin." The man removed his hands from his pockets, and then raised his right, extending it in her direction.

"It's a pleasure," he greeted, giving a smile. Ah, the DA that Gordon had complained about. Alison uncrossed her arms and extended her left hand. The ensuing handshake was brief, and firm. "I've heard many things about you. Well, your time as District Attorney. You did good work before you quietly resigned."

"Thank you, DA Franklin," Alison replied. "You can expect the same level of good work despite being lower in rank."

"Hm…" For a few seconds he stared at her, unreadable expression on his face. Then he smiled again, turning his head to the side. "Brenda, could you excuse us? I want to speak with the new ADA in private." The woman immediately nodded his head and took her leave, closing the door behind her. Alison idly wondered if the room was soundproof as she watched the secretary blurred silhouette until it was out of sight. She returned her gaze to the DA, wondering why he wanted to speak to her alone. Technically, she wasn't on the clock yet. Mark cleared his throat, returning his attention to her. "Actually, you've been… impressive with the number of cases you win since the beginning of your career."

"I only do my job," Alison stated. "Is that so interesting?"

"I'm gonna level with you, Alison," Mark said. "I came to this town, not expecting to fill such big shoes. I mean, Banshee isn't exactly an on the map sorta town." For the sake of this man being her superior in terms of staff, Alison decided to ignore the slight dig at her hometown. "When I first started, I was constantly compared to you, so I wanted to find out more. I went all the way back to some of your first cases. You are… brilliant. There's no denying it."

"Well, thank you for the compliment," Alison said, still unsure why she was having his discussion. The hiring manager had already gushed about her skills during the interview. Alison bit her lower lip, eyes searching for a clock. The interview had last longer than anticipated. She needed to leave soon, or Lena's generosity might begin to fade. Alison had been asking too much of best friend for two years now. Moving back to Banshee should have been the end of that prolonged asking, and yet, here she was, being held up by a man that wasn't even her boss just yet. Technically. "You do this for all your new hires?"

"No, not really," Mark answered with a slight chuckle. "But you are an exception. Come on, you must know that."

"You don't have to treat me differently," Alison told him.

"I think I do," he said. Alison's eyebrow jerked. She had heard the subtle shift in his tone. It had gone from easygoing to serious. "Or, at the very least, inform you." She remained quiet, waiting for his elaboration. "See, I noticed a bit of a pattern with your earlier cases. Well, the majority, actually. The majority of your earlier cases dealt with those of a… unfortunate mindset." Alison nearly scoffed in utter bafflement. Unfortunate mindset. In all her years, she had never come across such a term given to monsters. She slowly licked her lips and crossed her arms, forcing herself to swallow words. Mark had yet to explain why her earlier cases needed to be mentioned. "Banshee has a bit of a problem with these guys. The police department has made a lot of arrests to the members of the Brotherhood."

"The Brotherhood…?" Alison managed to repeat despite feeling as though her throat was constricting. "They're… still around?"

"Yeah, they are," Mark confirmed, unknowingly making her feel sick. "They've gotten bolder in their actions recently." He shook his head, seemingly annoyed. Alison clenched her teeth, looking towards the floor. Two years and they were more active? Why? They shouldn't- "Now, I know that you might want to go after them, considering your history, but I want to say that they're my problem now." Alison looked back up, furrowing her brow. The churning in her gut quelled just a bit only due to the confusion his words had brought. "I'll handle any and all cases that deals with them."

"What?" she blurted.

"I already have a way of doing things around here," Mark stated. "I would hate for someone to come in and… stir the pot, so to speak. All my hard work—I don't want it to be disturbed in any way. You can understand that, can't you?" Alison didn't answer. She did, however, understand. She had spent many days and sleepless nights, trying so hard to put away as many monsters that she could. She had done that all by herself, and had not wanted help. It had been something like her white whale, and now apparently, it was now Mark Franklin's. But it shouldn't have been. The Brotherhood had been supposed to disappear. "I can handle the Brotherhood. Leave them to me, Alison, and you'll be fine with your own workload. Do you understand me?"

He was telling her, in a roundabout way, to back off. Don't think about touching anyone having to do with the Brotherhood. That, coupled with Gordon's previous words to her about the DA, didn't exactly sit well with her. It wasn't even her first day, and yet she was already being warned not to look too closely at cases involving those with… an unfortunate mindset. Alison took a deep breath before smiling pleasantly at the current District Attorney. "Yes. I understand perfectly," she told him. "I look forward to seeing your hard work. I'm sure it will be a pleasure, DA Franklin."

"Great…!" Mark said, smile returning. "Guess I'll see you next Monday then."

"Yes, of course. Bright and early," she replied. Mark nodded his head, and then turned to open the door. Without another word, he left her in the office. Alison continued to smile until the DA was out of sight. She then sharply turned away from the door and stepped closer to the window. In the same motion, she slipped her purse's straps from her shoulder and went digging for her cell phone. Finding it, she pulled the cell phone out and immediately unlocked it, still managing to smile at the lock screen. Huffing, she went to her call history and tapped for her best friend. The line rang several times before she received a greeting. "Lena, hi," she said, recognizing that her voice sounded rushed.

"Where are you? Was this interview supposed to last so long?" Lena questioned, annoyance slipping into her tone.

"I got the job, and they wanted me to have a look at the office," Alison stated.

"Well, are you on your way back?"

"… Not exactly," she replied. "I think I need a few more hours to-"

"A few more hours?!" Lena cut in. "My flight leaves in a few more hours, Ali!"

"Keep your voice down!" Alison hissed.

"Oh, relax, its fine," Lena retorted nonchalantly. Then she sighed heavily. "Why do you need a few more hours?"

"Because I just… have a suspicion, and I can't do anything about it tomorrow or later this week. I'll be obligated to the DA's office next week, so it needs to be… confirmed now," Alison explained.

"I thought you said you were going to keep your head down," Lena reminded her.

Alison shifted her head, eyes focusing on the glass that separated her new office from the rest of the building. There didn't seem to be anyone around, but she lowered her voice anyway. "That was the plan before I found out that my boss might be on someone else's payroll," she whispered. "I can't do my job properly if I'm going to be stopped at every turn." She could nearly hear the eye roll from her best friend. "This is important, Lena. Just… Just one more hour, and I'll be home. I promise. I just need to get a confirmation. I need to know what exactly I'm about to walk into. This isn't just about me, Lena."

"Fine, fine. You're lucky I love you," Lena drawled out.

"I love you, too," Alison said, feeling a real smile form. "I'll talk to you later." Her best friend agreed, and then ended the call. Alison slipped her cell phone back into her purse, and then crossed the office space to get to the door. Quickly, she made her way to the entrance, honing in on the front desk. The secretary, Brenda, was behind the desk, typing away at a computer. Upon seeing her, the woman stood up. "Hi, Brenda, can I ask you a quick question before I go?"

"Yes, ma'am," she seemed enthused.

"Can you tell me if… the Sheriff's department has relocated as well in the last two years?"

0-0

Rebecca Bowman narrowed her eyes at the computer screen. She had been staring at the information for over fifteen minutes now. Sitting in the back office of her business, she ignored the muffled music from the front area. At the moment, she had to decide whether this tidbit of information was worth the effort of pushing one of her girls. She relaxed in her chair, releasing a slow sigh. On one hand, she could use this for other more important things… eventually. On the other hand, the source hadn't had a slip of the tongue. Most of her clients gave information away accidently, so unaware of what she could do with words. However, this certain senator had come directly to her.

Of course, there were those who willingly provided information in exchange for silence, but this did not seem to be the case this time around. Rebecca lightly tapped her red lips as she continued to think. Honestly, it didn't normally take so long to reach a decision regarding information. She had gotten quite good at reacting in just the right way. Any information that could help her uncle was obviously important, and this piece of information revolved around him. However, she wasn't too certain that this particular thing could help or hinder. And she absolutely did not want to use one of her girls in a particularly dangerous situation, all to obtain more facts. This information came without an obvious use of blackmail, after all.

Suddenly, there was a knock to the door, disrupting her thoughts completely. Rebecca shifted her gaze from the screen to the black door. Taking in a short breath, she saved the information, and shut down the program. Then she ejected the flash drive from the computer before removing it from the laptop. Quickly, she attached the flash drive to her necklace. It was in the shape of a silver heart, covered with pink jewels. Her secrets were hiding in plain sight—an idea that had come about while talking to one of her girls. Victoria, her name was, with her stage name being Queen. There was also a hard copy, tucked away in her own home. Good to have just in case someone discovered what exactly her necklace contained and attempted to steal it. Fortunately, though, that would never happen.

Clearing her throat, Rebecca told the one at her door to come in. She already knew who the knocks belonged to before the door opened. There was only one that would not resort to knocking a second time. "Burton, what can I do for you?" she questioned, corners of her lips tugging upward. She clasped her fingers together on the desk and leaned forward. Per usual, he stared back dispassionately. The stoic man happened to be the reason that no one would attempt to steal the flash drive from her. If they were clever enough to realize, they would have to get past Clay Burton, and only fools would even think to try.

Over the years, her uncle had gifted her with the man to assist her with running the three businesses. Yes, he still went to her uncle's side on occasion, but more often than not, Burton was very nearly her shadow. Running three Savoy's was a bit taxing by oneself, especially since the clubs were just the front. Especially after her uncle had given her a house to herself. The arrangement was convenient. Somehow, Rebecca had gotten used to sleeping with him, and found herself unable to fall asleep without him by her side. Of course, there were nights she would send him away for more of a… pleasurable bed partner, but most nights she coaxed him into her bed. Granted, she still wasn't quite sure if Burton actually slept through the night. Her uncle still had no idea about the sleeping arrangements, and Rebecca certainly did not want him to find out what she had been doing with her borrowed guardian.

Instead of vocally answering, Burton stepped to the side, opening the door wider. Both he and one of her girls entered her office and shut the door behind them. Rebecca recognized her as Mindy—a mother of two. She had found Mindy, living on the streets, servicing for her pimp. After taking care of him, Mindy had become grateful and had willingly come with her. That had been last year, and now she appeared almost like a different woman. She walked with confidence and was absolutely loyal. She, of course, wasn't the only one. Rebecca lost her smile, propping her head up with knuckles, and elbow against the desk. Mindy bowed in respect, a mannerism that had lingered from her Asian heritage. She was a favorite among many of her clients. She normally brought in tons of money and information.

"I'm sorry for interrupting, madam," she said. "But I have learned something that I thought you might want to know." Rebecca nodded her head, gesturing for the woman to continue. "It's about the District Attorney." Rebecca tried to keep the scowl from her face. However, she could not stop the eye roll. What did that sniveling fool do this time? She saw his purpose. She truly did, but some days she just wanted Burton to take care of him. She had made the mistake of sleeping with him when he first came to town, not knowing his profession. It had, in the end, turned out well because she had used that to blackmail him, but the man had some grand notion that he would have a second chance with her. Men.

"I believe I told you all that any attempt the DA makes in talking to me is to be parried without question," Rebecca stated.

"Yes, madam, we all understand," Mindy said. "My apologies. I meant the former District Attorney." Rebecca stiffened in surprise. "One of my clients, who works at the DA's office, told me that he recognized the name."

"What about her?" Rebecca asked, tersely as she stood up.

"She had an interview today for Assistant District Attorney," Mindy explained. "From the way he… complained, it appears that she was instantly hired due to her background."

"Of course she was," Rebecca sighed out. She then took in a deep breath before waving Mindy off. "Leave us." The woman bowed her head, and then left the office, shutting the door on her way out. Rebecca shut her eyes, placing her palms on the desk. She had put out… feelers for information regarding Alison Medding. That woman had abruptly left Banshee two years ago, but it hadn't been too big of a problem to watch out for her return just in case she decided to go back on their deal. Now, she had come back and in the position of an ADA as well. That could mean a number things. Maybe she should have paid more attention to her whereabouts outside of Banshee.

"What would you have me do?" Burton asked. Rebecca opened her eyes and focused on the stoic man. They both knew the potential threat the former District Attorney could pose for Kai Proctor. Someone like her, and the Sheriff, could crumble the empire he worked so hard to build. Not to mention her uncle's bizarre obligation to the woman that could put him away for good. Still, they had had a deal. Would she seriously go back on that deal? She hadn't seemed the type to do that. Still, that was something that Rebecca did not want to risk.

"Nothing for now," she replied. "She knows your face. I don't want her to give her a reason to look into us if that's not her intention." Rebecca moved around the desk, coming to a stop in front of Burton. In her heels, she was just about as tall as him. "Who's knows? Maybe she'll leave us be."

"It is not smart to leave her alone," Burton said.

"Yes, I know," Rebecca stated. She lifted her hands, fingers curling around the edges of his bowtie. She tilted her head to the side, matching his gaze with a smile. Burton slightly tilted his head in the other direction, curious. "I'll gather information. I'll find out where she was. What's she's been doing. And what she wants now. I'll find out her weakness. I'll find out ways to blackmail her. Then, if she attempts to put my uncle away, I'll have her. Just like everyone else in this town." Burton chose not to reply. Perhaps, over the years, he had grown accustomed to her prowess with information gathering. Or perhaps he thought she was too confident. Sometimes, it was still so hard to read him. "Now, no more pouting," she told him, dropping her hands. His face twitched in a way that told her he was refraining from rolling his eyes. "I won't let anything happen to uncle… just like you won't let anything happen to uncle."

Burton said nothing more, and then meticulously wiped imaginary dust from her shoulders. Then he abruptly turned and took his leave. Once the door shut, Rebecca let out a silent sigh. She had put on a face, but honestly, she was a bit worried. Not only could Alison Medding be the biggest threat to her uncle, but she was also a woman that he had a bizarre relationship with him due to his previous relationship with her mother. Uncle Kai was a good, strong man, but he was also strangely sentimental to those who were lucky enough. They could very well be his downfall. But as she told her shadow, she wouldn't let that happen. By any means necessary.

0-0

Alison was beginning to think showing up here had been a mistake. She had been in her car for about five minutes now, just staring at the entrance to the Banshee Sheriff's Department. Well, her eyes were continuously darting around, looking for a specific vehicle. She shouldn't be, though. For all she knew, over the course of two years, he could have gotten rid of it. Alison sighed through her nose as her teeth clamped down on her lower lip. She was being ridiculous. She had come here for one reason. One person shouldn't impede that reason. Clenching her jaw, Alison uncurled her fingers from around the steering wheel. She took another deep breath before taking the key from the ignition.

Deciding to leave her purse in the car, she grabbed her wallet and left the bag in the passenger seat. Alison then moved to get out of her car, smoothing down her black pencil skirt. There didn't seem to be any personal vehicles parked in front anyway, only police cruisers. She had no way of knowing, so her only choice was to buck up and walk through those doors. And what a mighty fine building it was—leagues away from the simplicity of the CADI. Alison stared up. More than one floor. Thick reinforced glass. The police had certainly stepped their game up.

Clearing her throat, Alison shut her car door, and then made her way across the street, walking in between two cruisers to get to the entrance of the building. Glancing at her reflection, she lifted her left hand to run fingers through her hair, while her right hand gripped the handle to pull the door open. Despite her steady walk, her insides vibrated with apprehension. More and more the further she made it through the building actually. Then she saw a familiar face, causing her to calm down somewhat. She went over to the front desk and put on a smile. The woman, having noticed her walk up, put down the receiver and returned the smile.

"Alison Medding…!" she greeted, standing from her chair. "What are you doing here?"

"Alma," Alison returned. "What am I doing here? What are you doing here? I heard you quit."

"Oh, I did," she answered. "I was happy with my position as an administrator at the high school. But the Sheriff came along a year ago and begged me to come back—man practically got on his knees because the poor fool didn't know what he was doing. Said I'd have a big fancy desk with my name on it-" Here, she tapped a rectangular gold plate with her name scribed in black. "-and much better compensation and benefits. Plus, I just couldn't say no to those eyes." The older woman chuckled, clearly remembering with affection. "Now how about you? I heard you quit, too."

"Yes… I did," Alison replied, almost clumsily. "I had some… personal things come up in my life, so the best option was to resign." Alma had no reaction to the vague response, so that meant she had no inklings of who she had spent time with outside of work. Good. The less people who knew, the better it would be. Alma nodded her head, accepting the evasive way of answering. Working in a police station, she probably dealt with it a lot. Alison bit her lower lip, eyes glancing to the left, taking in the multiple uniforms. Not one looked familiar. She turned back to the older woman, barely containing a huff. "Speaking of the Sheriff, though, I came to see him. Is he in right now?"

"Yes, I can call him down, let him know that the former DA is here to see him," Alma said.

"Ah… That'd be ADA," Alison corrected. "I was hired just this morning. It's like a meet and greet."

Alma nodded her head, and then gestured towards the chairs directly behind Alison. Obviously, she wanted her to sit while she rang up the Sheriff's office. With a nod of acknowledgment, Alison turned and headed over to the row of chairs. She sat down, keeping the heavy sigh to herself. Once again, her eyes scanned the immediate area. Still no sign of him. Perhaps he didn't work here, after all. No… That couldn't be it. It might have been two years, but giving up the profession seemed too unlikely. No, more than likely, he just wasn't here yet for his shift.

Honestly, that was good news. It stretched her nerves just thinking about another confrontation with him. Alison bit down on her lower lip. She was not mentally prepared, just as she hadn't been the first time. Swallowing, she lifted her hand. Her fingertips lightly pressed against her lips. She had been entirely foolish that night. Unprepared or not, what had happened should not have happened. So when another confrontation happened—and it definitely had to—that mistake would linger and twist the situation, leading to complications. Jesus Christ, it would be like introducing new evidence right in the middle of a trial.

Alison took a deep breath, willing those thoughts away. Now wasn't the time. She came here to confirm a suspicion so that she might begin taking steps in rectifying that suspicion. And that was a big might in and of itself. As she had told Lena, she had planned to keep her head down, stay out of big cases, and just work what she could. Apparently, Banshee had other surprises in store for her. "Alison Medding—never thought I'd see those legs again," a vaguely familiar voice caught her attention. Alison lifted her head and opened her eyes, focusing on a man in front of her. Speaking of surprises… The voice belonged to one Lucas Hood. Sure, he had traded his buzz cut in for a slightly spiked hairdo, but he was pretty much the same—boyish grin and all.

"Jesus Christ, do not tell me what I think you're about to tell me," Alison said, standing from the chair.

"I'm the Sheriff. How can I help you?" he asked. That had been the exact thing she hadn't wanted to hear. Why was this guy still-? "Before you answer that question, how about we speak in my office."

"Lead the way," Alison said through a forced smile. Lucas turned, extending his arm, and Alison moved to follow him through the station. He felt the need to point out certain things as they made their way, but she couldn't even begin to care at the moment. Once they had made it up the stairs to his much larger office space and the door shut, Alison fixed a glare on him. "I didn't come here for small talk. Why are you here, Sheriff?"

"Good to see you, too, Alison. Why don't you have a seat?" Lucas gestured to one of the chairs as he moved to sit behind his desk. She exhaled sharply through her nose, and then took the offered seat. She placed her wallet on top of the desk. Then she crossed her arms, put one leg over the other, and stared expectedly. Lucas sighed. "Look, a lot of stuff happened when the year was up. It was a consensus that I stay in this position until Banshee was ready for a new Sheriff."

"A consensus…?" Alison almost laughed. "Between who?"

"Myself, the Mayor… and Carrie," Lucas stated. Alison scoffed. "And then after that, I guess I got comfortable. Alison, I am a good fit. I've got a good thing going here, and-"

"Do you?" Alison cut in. "Because I have two sources that tell me you haven't been a good fit! And I've only been in town for a few days. So, Sheriff, you want to explain to me why so many of your arrests are thrown out? Because from where I'm sitting, a thief is helping his buddies."

"Hey, it is not like that!" Lucas protested.

"Of course it's not! You're not that stupid," Alison said. He looked rightfully offended. "I may not know you that well, Sheriff, but I know I made a good decision the last time we had a face to face conversation. Honestly, I destroyed the evidence pretty much a day after that meeting." His lips opened and closed several times. She took some sick satisfaction from that expression. "The reason I showed up here is because I had a somewhat enlightening conversation with a Mark Franklin. Apparently, this new DA and the Sheriff's department isn't being a… cohesive unit. Criminals aren't being sent to jail. They're going free before a trial can be scheduled. And even if they make it trial, those cases aren't won due to technicalities or some such nonsense. So tell me, Sheriff, where is the problem coming from. You? Or the DA's office?"

"… I see you haven't lost your charm," Lucas remarked. Alison tilted her head to the side and arched an eyebrow. He leaned forward, clasping his hands together on the desk. "Everything was fine until this new DA comes rolling in. At first, it wasn't noticeable, but then it started happening back to back. Now, every single one of my deputies walks on eggshells about everything. We go months without arresting anyone now, and not because everyone's become a saint."

"Is there a pattern to these situations? Is there a specific group of people that's getting away?" Alison questioned.

"Yeah, there is," Lucas stated. "There's a few outliers, but most of them come from the same… organization. Maybe you've heard of them? Calls themselves the Brotherhood." Alison clenched her jaw. "Every time we arrest one of these assholes, they lawyer up. The DA throws the book at us instead of who he should be throwing it at."

"Did you investigate him? Try to find something linking him?"

"Yeah, but nothing stuck. No one can find a connection between this particular asshole and the group of assholes," Lucas explained. "He came from out of town, there's no increase of income anywhere… there's nothing." Alison opened her mouth to ask another question—series of questions, actually—however, there was a knock at the door. "Come in…!" Lucas called. The sound of the door opening actually caused her to turn her head. Her throat constricted at the sight of Kurt Bunker walking into the office, file in his hand and eyes on his Sheriff.

"Sir, I have-"

He stopped abruptly, eyes having had glanced at her only to do a double take. Alison stared back, suddenly finding it hard to swallow. Her mind immediately conjured up images from their first 'welcome back,' and, damn it all, she licked her lips. Hurriedly, she shifted her gaze to another side of the room, but she could still feel his eyes on her, stabbing into her skin. "Bunker, you remember Alison, don't you?" Lucas' voice broke through the haze of Saturday night. "She's here, introducing herself as the new ADA."

"Sir," Kurt murmured, stepping forward. Despite everything, Alison's posture went rigid at his proximity. He placed the file on the edge of the desk. "I just need your signature when you get the chance." Alison risked a peek, but he no longer looked her way at all. No acknowledgement whatsoever. She attempted to stifle the unwanted twinges of disappointment.

"Thanks, actually, could you bring me some more files?" Lucas asked. "About six months back, every arrest that didn't go anywhere—bring those up."

"Yes, sir," Kurt said, and then turned to leave, not sparing her a glance. Alison only relaxed again once the door shut, harder than necessary. She furrowed her brow and frowned. His cold indifference… he had some nerve. But now wasn't the time, and when the time came, she wouldn't care regardless. Lucas cleared his throat, causing Alison to focus on him. He tilted his head towards the closed door.

"Is that going to be a problem?" he questioned. For several seconds, Alison didn't respond. Over and over again, his taciturn demeanor played through her head. She had never experienced it. He had never purposely ignored her. Before, he would always seek her out—always. Except when it had counted. "I know you two have a history." Alison drew in a long breath, and then gave a tight smile.

"That's all it is—history," she stated. "There won't be a problem."

Of course, not even three minutes later, Kurt Bunker decided to make a liar out of her.

0-0

Before, he had had pretty rough days. Before Maggie, before Hank, when he had been all alone, it had been rough just getting through the day. And then… there had been worse days. Days that had gone by slowly, especially at night. On those days—nights—he had lied in bed, shaking and tense with a gun in both hands. The only way he had stopped the shakes had been thinking about her… Imagining her sliding up behind him. Wrapping her arms around his body. Pressing her cheek against his shoulder blade. It had been an illusion—a phantom of a real comfort, but it had been enough to push back the anxiety and paranoia. At least, enough for him to sleep. Now, though, thinking about her only increased the shakes. Shakes that didn't come from paranoia or anxiety. Now, it was just anger.

Kurt found himself swallowing hard as he leaned against the file cabinet. His fingers curled around the metal handle of the stop drawer, squeezing so hard that the blood fled from his knuckles. This level of red hot anger couldn't be contained with just breathing techniques. In fact, the more he tried to calm down, the more strained his breathing became. Christ. It was only the beginning of his shift. He couldn't just continue on like this. It was bad enough that people were still wary about his presence, but adding a permanent scowl wouldn't win him any points. Once again, she had appeared without warning and had turned everything inside out. Was she going to keep doing this? Appearing randomly only to leave him with more questions? More confusion?

No. No. Not this time. Kurt pried his fingers from the handle, abruptly turning away. His strides were harder than necessary as he made his way back to the stairs. He clenched his fists hard as he came to a stop at the door to the Sheriff's office. Looking inside, he saw the two of them—Hood and Alison—in the middle of a conversation. However, he couldn't bring himself to care at the moment. Kurt opened the door, without knocking, and their conversation abruptly cut off. The two turned their gazes to him.

"Sir," he began, focusing on the Sheriff. "I can't find the files. Job might know."

"Job…?!" Alison sharply turned back to the Sheriff, not seeing the look Kurt gave. The Sheriff, however, noticed and stared right back. Hopefully, he understood what Kurt wanted.

"… He's kinda our tech guy," Sheriff Hood stated, eyes shifting towards Alison.

"Jesus Christ," she retorted with a shake of her head. "I don't even want to know."

She grumbled something else, but it was too low for Kurt to make out. Besides, his attention was still on his boss. Sheriff Hood slowly stood up from his chair. He gave a subtle nod, and then directed his next words to Alison. He informed her that he would retrieve the files, and then quickly took his leave before she could get a word in. His Sheriff had understood, at least to the point of giving privacy. After all, he was one of the few people who had known. The door shut, leaving the two of them in silence. A tense, awkward silence. Alison chose to remain in her seat while Kurt stood stiffly, right hand clasping his left wrist in front of him. It was only when she glanced at him did he open his mouth.

"Why are you here?" Kurt asked, voice calm despite his chest feeling tight.

"… It… It doesn't concern you," Alison said, tilting her head to the side and shifting her line of sight to the opposite side of the room. "Don't worry about it."

"Don't worry about it?" Kurt repeated. He grinded his teeth together. She, of course, hadn't noticed the strain of keeping his irritation in check. "You suddenly show up in my town—at my job—and you say not to worry about it?" Finally, she looked at him again, eyes sharpened and eyebrows raised as though she couldn't comprehend his audacity. Kurt frowned. No. This was not how it had been two years ago when he had practically worshiped her. He was not in the wrong here.

"Your town? From what I hear, Banshee belongs to the Brotherhood nowadays, doesn't it?" Alison retorted. Internally, he winced because on some level, though he hated to admit it, his former associates were on some type of VIP list, making it hard for anyone in that organization to do any real time. "You had your chance to take care of them, but you didn't, so, no—this isn't your town. What I'm doing here doesn't concern you at all, Deputy." Hearing his title had normally had a nice ring to it. Even when people said it reluctantly, he had always gotten a sense of pride from it. But now, hearing it from her, after everything, felt like a slap in the face.

"This is my job—my life! You can't just show up out of nowhere!"

"I'm sorry—am I speaking a different language?" Alison questioned sarcastically as she stood up from her seat. Her fingers curled around the edge of the desk as she glared at him. "I'm not here for you."

Kurt flinched. Despite how far he had come, her words brought back all the pain and misery he had felt. Everything came back in waves. He had been alone and scared, and so confused. I'm going to support you, she had told him. That had been a promise, right? But the moment he had come to, and had discovered her not there, had been the moment the promise had been broken. Even if he had aggressively denied her departure. He swallowed, but with difficulty. She had lied to him back then. The flippant way she regarded his presence now after she had decided to come back—it hurt. And all that pain and hurt and confusion twisted in his gut, and bubbled into resentment.

"Well, that's just perfect, isn't it?" Kurt managed to ask through clenched teeth. "You certainly weren't there for me back then either." Back when I needed you most, he refused to say out loud. Alison jerked back as though he had moved to strike her. Maybe she had understood the underlying accusation. Maybe, after all this time, she could still see right through him. Kurt turned his head, eyes on the floor, not wanting to look at her stunned expression.

"I don't know why I was expecting anything different from a woman who runs at the first sign of danger." That had been a lie. He knew exactly why he had been expecting something different. She had kissed him. Billy had told him that that action had made sense. It had made no goddamn sense to him, though. Christ. He just wanted some fucking answers. He had expected answers, but she seemed so keen on not giving them.

"Excuse me?! What the hell was I supposed to do?!" Hard as steel, Alison raised her voice, causing Kurt to return his gaze to her. "You were wrong, Kurt! Those monsters came in and burned you—almost killed you!" Her voice cracked just a bit, and she took in a shuddering breath before continuing. "Your brother—someone you protected and cared for—was willing to do that to you just because of a threat! What do you think would happen if he found out about me, huh?"

The worst. Calvin would have done so much worse. When Kurt had gotten out of the hospital, and couldn't find Alison, he had assumed that she hadn't been lucky. He had, for hours, thought that his brother had done something to her. Until, of course, the Mayor had told him she had left town without a forwarding address.

"I was not going to go through that torture again. So, yes, I ran! Banshee wasn't safe. But now, I come back two years later and find out that it's still not safe!" Alison continued, nearly shouting now. "You want to talk to me about expectations?! I expected them to be gone! I expected you to make them disappear like you said! I expected Banshee to be safe people like me!"

"What?" Kurt honestly was at a loss on how to reply to that.

"You had this big plan to get rid of them all in one fell swoop, but either it never happened or you botched it!" Alison continued. She shut her eyes for a moment, breathed, and then walked towards him. "You want to know why I'm here at your job…?" She stood right in front of him, nearly the same distance they had been Saturday night. Involuntarily, Kurt's eyes darted down to her lips then back up meet her gaze. "That's because you're not doing your job. I'm here because, apparently, I'm the only one with the motivation to see the Brotherhood fall."

Something inside snapped at those words. Before he knew it, Kurt had grabbed her forearms. Chest against chest, Alison tensed, just as much as him, but she did not falter. He breathed harshly through his nose, and yet she continued to stare, not backing down. So self-righteous. Like she couldn't understand his lack of action. Motivation…? She had been his motivation. Then she had disappeared. Gone without a trace. He had thought he had lost her. In that same fell swoop, he had thought he lost his friend as well. So much had happened two years ago, and it had been out of his control. He had lost his power again. He had lost his control again, and it had taken so long to get even a smidgen of that back. Maybe he had been reluctant to tangle with his brother again, but he had reasons for that.

Fear being one of them.

Depression being another.

"Why are you here?" Kurt asked again. Alison opened her mouth. "No," he cut in. "Why now? Whether it was two years or five or ten—why are you here now if you were so convinced Banshee wasn't safe for you? Why are you back? Why did you choose now to come back and-?" He couldn't finish. The words had swelled and clogged his throat. The negative emotions were still swimming, nearly blinding all of his senses. The thrumming of his heart had grown louder with each passing second. Finally, her gaze wavered. Again, she let out a shaky breath. Kurt released her, and took several steps back. "Are you going to answer any of my questions?"

"This… This isn't the time or place," she murmured. "Like I told you, I'm not here for-"

"Damn it, Alison!" Kurt slammed his fist against the wall behind him. She went rigid, gasping quietly. "For fuck's sakes! You left me without warning, and now you're back without warning! I deserve to know why! You can't just-! Just fucking tell me!" Alison blinked several times, wetness forming in her eyes. A pang of guilt shot through him, but she only pressed her lips together. Like she didn't want to speak on the matter. "Tell me!" She flinched again, squeezing her eyes shut. Her mouth opened, and shouting just as loud, she gave a jaw-dropping, heart-startling, mind-blowing three worded phrase that Kurt had thought he would never get a chance to hear.

"You're a father!"

0-0

Boom! Mic drop...!

But not really. I have been foreshadowing that reveal for quite some time.

And yes, Rebecca will have a much larger role in this instead of just being dead. You have no idea how upset I was when I realized she had died. And who had actually killed her! It quite literally pissed me off. I just... The Banshee writers were just ridiculous in the 4th season! Argh! She deserved better than just being an excuse for man pain. I will not allow it! Stick around, if you dare.