Operation Bosco: A Call to Arms, III

Her greatest asset was probably her ability to stay low.

Most of her emotions were held close to the vest and though at times she had difficulty hiding her disdain or distrust, she had the ability to appear mostly disinterested above all else. Disassociated. She was far more comfortable hanging back from a conversation, listening, than she was actively participating in discord. There was a lot more to be found in observation than participation.

Shae found, in the few weeks she'd known her current counterparts, that this was not the case for them. Haven appeared naturally brass and outspoken while Locke, though more reserved than his girlfriend, had a difficulty swallowing his feelings. They were both very emotional people and from what Locke had told her of their guild back home, she imagined most people there were the same.

She just hadn't been raised the same way.

Both of her parents had been rather reserved. Especially her father. He kept to himself, had very few friends, and spent a lot of his time away from his day job just sitting out on their back porch, gazing off in the distance. When she was younger, she'd go and sit beside him, usually with a chapter novel or coloring book, just to spend time with him. But when she got older and he got sick, she'd sit there beside him in the same silence he always had, staring off into the distance, not envisioning the same things as the man exactly, but rather the appropriate ponderings for her age range.

Still, it was something that Shae found she carried with her into adulthood. There was more to be found in a situation when you sat back and considered it as opposed to rushing right in.

While Haven had immediately thrown herself into cracking the inner circle of women, Shae instead focused on just listening. To what the others said. The things they imparted on her. The property was a far more relaxed one than Ewing's (from what Haven had described, at least) and left more room for a learning curve. Still, at the first mention of a secretive group of young women kept up in the penthouse, Shae knew, without a doubt, that they were the key to cracking the place.

And whether she and Haven liked it or not, they were both at risk for being drug into it one way or another.

She thought the blonde would be all about it. She seemed to be, anyways, that first night. Haven seemed to be the type that always had to do something first, be the one to experience the heaviest toll of a task. On the surface level, an inner circle even more inner than the one she was already hoping to break sounded like something she'd be all about, but after a night of little sleep, Haven had almost immediately balked.

It's not like Shae didn't understand.

Because she did.

Of course she did.

While they couldn't absolutely claim to know what would be taking place in the penthouse, there was a rather obvious implication placed upon it and there was no misunderstanding, at least not for Haven nor Shae, about what exactly they would be getting into by going there.

Something had happened though. Back on Ewing manor. While Shae had only heard a bare bones recount, she could tell that whatever had gone on had affected the blonde rather deeply and had a pretty good inkling as to what it pertained.

So when Haven backed out, it was easy enough to Shae to nod along and agree that yes, she would be the one then, to try and get into the penthouse. It felt like an easy decision, every time it fell out of her mouth, but there was more attached to it, of course.

A lot more.

Haven's reservations were some of her own and though perhaps not as founded, she certainly wasn't prepared for what was going to be taking place.

She wasn't sure how any woman, any person, ever could be. It was such a strange concept. Violence, especially...sexual, in her mind had always been more of a random, burst of a moment, not a planned and coordinated action. Keeping women locked away, purposely with the intention of raping them felt like such a taboo concept and though, obviously, she'd heard such things about Bosco before, feared such things, there was something much sicker to actually be faced with the concept.

And convincing herself to actively attempt to infiltrate the process.

There was busy work, every day, down in the shop where she was meant to fold and box garments. It wasn't difficult work, but rather tedious, and she found herself distancing mentally from it. While she took part in the actions, she wasn't completely present for the actions and instead stared off, now just at the dark shadows encasing the barely lit sweatshop in which they worked.

She thought of what it would even be like. To be chosen to go up to the penthouse. Nerve-wrecking, obviously, but beyond that, she wasn't so sure she could easily swallow her desire to fight back. To go so easily. She thought she could, part of her hoped she could, but another part…

And yet another part also recognized the fight the women who came before her must have put up. And how needless it seemed overall.

The intent in being chosen, to begin with, was to somehow influence or gain confidence of some of the guards or, maybe even, the Master. She couldn't imagine resisting would be any gain to that, but at the same time, couldn't exact gauge her own reaction before the situation arose.

So she tried not to think on it, as she stared off, blanking as she almost robotically packed away things and nodded in all the right places, when the women she worked with whispered this or that. But her mind wasn't even necessarily on the penthouse any longer, but rather the woman who'd just been discarded from the place.

She wasn't made to work, that first day. Or the next. The woman who came down from the penthouse. Rather, she just laid in bed, shivering at times and, by the third day, bouncing off the walls, jittery and sweating, while ranting at them about something. A need for something. By the fourth day, she'd crashed back down again and another one of the women stayed behind to look after her, providing her with water and looking over her with sympathy.

"It must be some kind of withdrawal," Haven remarked as they bathed that night to which Shae nodded. Softly, the blonde said, "I wonder what they do up there? All the time?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's not like he stays in the penthouse, with all those women, constantly," Haven pointed out. "Monty. The Master."

"I never see him." Then Shae frowned as she realized she legitimately had never seen the man. At all. The guards did patrols that intersected their natural paths at times, but the man himself had been illusive. "At all."

"Yeah, but he's not in the penthouse," the other woman insisted. "I talk to Locke, remember? He says that there's some sort of, like, game room or something that he hangs out in most of the time."

"Game room?"

"It's an arcade," Haven said. "With, like, game cabinets? We have them in some of the bigger cities, in Fiore, mostly. My younger cousin likes to blow his jewels there."

Making a face, Shae shook her head some as she said, "Great. If one of us gets up there-"

"If you," Haven reminded with a frown, "get up there. I'm very busy here, after all."

Hardly.

"If I get up there," the woman gave easily, "then that will leave us more time to be alone. With the other women. To coordinate. Don't you think?"

"And get information on other places," Haven reminded. "Locke said that Alwood would be making his way here soon. I know him from Ewing's place. He's...kinda older, but I doubt he's the only old perv that comes around here. If you get in there, you can probably pick up some dirt on some of the other families. Even info on the lesser known ones would be helpful."

It sounded easy enough. The entire thing. Just an action that needed to be taken. And, since she'd given no indication to Haven that she had any reservations over the whole thing, the other woman had begun to take a matter of fact stance on it as well. Had she given an inkling of her reservations, she wasn't quite sure how Haven would react (she'd probably just force herself to go through with it instead and face her own demons over the situation), but didn't feel comfortable enough confiding in the typical blonde.

The days felt long though, in that awkward interim between the woman being ousted from the penthouse and a new woman chosen to take her place. Another would come down, from the mansion, strung out and seemingly as dazed as the one before her, and while the other women seemed caring towards them, they all cautioned the younger ones.

"They'll choose soon," one of the women Shae worked with told her. "Between the ones of you who just got here and maybe, even, the two or three that stayed on to work. And then ones that aren't chosen..."

"What?" Shea questioned, but one of the three top women were walking by then, shushing them, and after a sigh, she was only cautioned with one thing.

"Beware," the woman insisted to her, "Alwood."

And this didn't make sense to Shae, at all, but just as quickly she was being called away, to take care of something else. Haven though, that night, seemed chilled it. And though Astra had seemingly chosen where to send them based completely on the tunnel system, there seemed to be a bigger reason they were there, coincidentally or otherwise.

The day of reckoning seemed to come out of nowhere. The men hadn't been around, to observe them or choose them, like Shae thought would occur and instead, one morning over breakfast, the three main women came to stand over the tables and share some news.

It was solely to the younger women who they spoke, mentioning in particular that they were grateful for the work that the newer ones had provided, but that it was now time for some to take their place in the penthouse.

For as sluggish as things had felt prior to that moment, it all seemed to blur then. Shae's name, as well as two of the other women she and Haven had arrived with, were called and there seemed some confusion on their part. Shae, however, only nodded at Haven, the typical blonde returning it with a grim look, and it was done.

Neither were quite sure how, but it was.

Now it was time to move on to the next phases of the plan.

It was still early in the morning, but one of the older trio took the three women to the main house. They were met at the door by one of the guards, who sneered at them, but spoke kindly to the older woman.

"You ain't gotta cry, sweetheart," the man remarked with a bit of a bemused grin when, as the older woman departed, the same woman who'd done so on their journey weeks ago began to sob once more. "Nothin' can hurt you here."

The manor was mostly dark, save one room on the bottom floor where a soft glow and hum of the arcade cabinets Haven had mentioned could both be observed and heard. The only guard awake seemed to be the one leading them about, taking them up two flights of stairs to the top floor.

The penthouse.

Up until that point, the manor had a very empty and sterile feel to it, but the penthouse was another beast entirely. Though the lights were out, the sun was beginning to peak over the horizon outside, giving enough light to see by. The open area was furnished with plush couches with ornate black designs on the vibrant red fabric. Both sat facing one another, with a thick, rich wooden coffee table sat between, with tidy ashtrays and some magazines sat atop. A nice stereo system lined along one wall and a move lacrima, as well as a screen projector, sat before another. One corner was dedicated to a tiny kitchenette. Straight across from the entrance way were windows that overlooked the front of the property and, at the moment, the sunrise.

It was a far cry from the hellscape Haven seemed to have feared, but Shae made no mistake as the guard, quite clearly, turned to fiddle with the heavy lock on the door.

He was quiet, speaking softly as he led them through the room and to one of the doors. There were four, in each corner of the open room. The one in the left top corner that he led them to turned out to be a bathroom, with a nod towards one of the cabinets, claiming towels and clothing could be found for them there.

"Bathe," he ordered, but softly before, with a sneer, remarking, "And shave."

And Shae glared after him while he left the women to it. The sobbing one, as Haven and Shae had both referred to her in passing up to this point, did obviously have a name and, as she collapsed to the ground in tears, Shae did use it.

"Hey," she whispered softly, behind down to pat the woman on the shoulder. "It's okay, Anna. Seriously. We'll-"

"The fuck it will." The other woman, a strong jawed brunette, paced about with a glare. The lights in the bathroom felt far too bright after living out of the barracks and dim warehouse for weeks and as Shae lifted her eyes, she saw her reflection staring back in a mirror hanging over the expansive bathroom sink.

She looked a mess.

She felt a mess.

But she also felt determined.

Finally, she was there. The penthouse. Things were falling into place.

"They're going to rape us," the other woman who, so far, Shae only knew Taree, shook her head as she came to peek into the cabinets the man had nodded at. "They're going to beat us if we resist. And they're going to torture us. Then, when they're done with us, they're going to shove us back in with those fucking old women. Until Alwood comes around and takes us to the next hellhole."

"Would you knock it-" Shae stopped though, in her snapping at the other woman as, standing upright once more, she found herself questioning something else instead. "Wait, where did you hear about Alwood?'

"One of the stupid old women told me about him," she said with a dismissive shrug. "He comes by at times to take any of the women the stupid Master here doesn't want. She didn't know what happens at his place, but she says it's way fucking worse than here. So what? We either work to death in their fucking factory? Or try and stay good up here and making the stupid fucking master save us from big, bad Alwood? This is shit. This is all fucking shit. I...I have to get this off my arm. They can't keep us here if we get these off our arms."

Taree had started off sounding pissed over the situation but now, seemingly panicked, she turned instead to rush towards the large tub and grab a bar of soap from it. As Shae tried to stop her, she quickly went to the sink and began to scrub, roughly, at her flesh.

"I have to get it off," she insisted. "We have to get it off. I made a mistake. Coming here. He said that it would be okay, that I would be safe, but he was wrong and now I'm stuck here and I'm going to die here and I can't-"

"Taree, calm down," Shae insisted trying to grab the woman, but she was only shoved away. "Seriously. You have to-"

"We have to get out of here." Anna sprang up then, still shaking, while Taree only continued to scrub her flesh raw. "There has to be a way. Some way to-"

"If you would both just calm down," Shae tried, "then I-"

But she was cut off as well. Not by either of the women she was attempting to speak over, but rather another.

The bathroom door opened to reveal a slender, fair skinned woman with glazed over eyes and fluid way of moving. The second the bathroom door was opened, she was coming in, towards them, sighing some as she did so.

It was to Anna that she went first, the frightened woman physically shaking now, but the new person only spoke in a dull, yet reassuring tone.

"It's alright. Take this." And she had some sort of pill, which she then held out to Anna. "It'll be okay. I promise."

"N-No, I-"

"Seriously. All of you." She had a flowery, almost ghostly way of speaking, the woman did and, as she approached Shae and Taree, it was on dread the filled the former's stomach. She had pills for them as well. When they hesitated in taking their own, she only insisted, "It's better, you know? If you do it yourself. A lot of it."

It was with a shaking hand that Taree dropped the soap in order to pick up the pill. While she stared at it, uncertain, Shae only frowned at the woman before them.

"I'm not taking that," she replied simply. "You guys shouldn't either. We don't even know what it is."

"Suit yourself." And, with little concern, the woman took the final pill in her palm and shoved it into her own mouth, swallowing with no aid. To Shae, she said simply, "But trust me, you'll want some soon enough. Something, at least. Now bathe. Like you were told. Shave and...make yourself presentable. Monty won't be up for a few hours, hopefully. And you can relax until them."

"Monty?" Anna asked to which the woman only grinned. It didn't quite reach her eyes though as she turned instead to draw the bath water.

"It'll feel nice," she insisted to them instead. "The warm water. Getting...clean. You take it for granted. We all do. Did. Before now."

She stayed with them, as they bathed, sitting up on the bathroom counter as she seemed to fall in and out of truly paying much mind. The pill (and whatever else she was on) seemed to be taking hold and her words became less pronounced. Anna and Taree seemed to relax too and Shae was alone now, on edge, but it was better that way, maybe. If the others all felt comfortable while she stayed alert.

Part of her task in the penthouse, after all, would involve working them as well.

"Monty's...the Master," the woman offered in her slow drawl. "He's a bit young, but he's still learning. He took over when his father died, only about two years ago. I wasn't here then, but things were very different, from what I've heard. It's not too bad now."

"Not too bad?" Shae snorted as she undressed. "Are you serious?"

But she only shrugged from where she sat. "I've been worse placed. Downstairs is a worse place. Here, with Monty… Accept it for what it is and it's not absolutely awful. Monty talks shit, but he won't hurt you. Not unless you force his hand."

This got an eye roll from Shae and a shiver from Anna, but the woman only sighed again, shaking her head some as she looked to the shiny, tile floor. Glaring down at it, her tone did change a bit, the next time she spoke.

"The guards are different. Most of them." She raised her head then, to glance at all three of them. "Monty's a little boy, practically. Spoiled brat. Do what he wants, he leaves you alone. Or even rewards you. But the guards are different. Good people don't come here. To places like this. Accept jobs like this. Without expecting something in return. And with how Monty changed things, after his father left… It's different now. Because he's weaker. Not as cruel. But he still has to make concessions."

"What do you mean?" Taree was already in the tub, having been gently rubbing at her slave marking, but now she looked over to the other woman. "Concessions?"

"Get in good with him," was all the woman offered with a shrug. "He won't let anything happen to women he really cares about. And stay good with him. For as long as possible. Because… You saw them, didn't you? Just like I saw the women before me. I hear that some of them get to stay, you know? Continue working here? But most of them…. They go somewhere else."

"To Alwood," Shae whispered and though she had a lot on her plate before her now, this name brought her the most hesitance. Maybe it was because she knew, at least somewhat, what her time here no doubt entailed, but before cast aside to Alwood… Everyone seemed to fear him. Without rightly saying why.

"Sometimes others," the woman agreed. "But yeah. Alwood. He looks out for Monty, now that his father is dead. Makes sure things stay in order here. They're all part of the great families. But… It's not bad. Here. Okay? So don't cry or fight or… Just...go with it. All of it. For as long as possible. It can always be worse."

The penthouse awoke slowly. Other women came and went in the bathroom and, when Shae, Anna, and Taree were eventually sent from it, they were only welcomed to the open room, where they were sat down on the couches and mostly left alone.

There honestly weren't that many other women. Only five, from what Shae could tell. And they all seemed to keep to themselves, going through their morning routines. For them all, this seemed to involve smoking something that repulsed Shae, but seemed to help them all keep even temper. They all seemed so quiet though, not unlike the women downstairs, and Shae was struck by the idea that even removed from most constrains, the marking on your arm was enough to change your entire person.

All of this changed though, when Monty awoke.

She hadn't lied, Lize, the woman who'd spoken to them about the man. He was hardly that, maybe even younger than herself, Shae thought, and though he carried himself with something similar to confidence, it was missing the mark by several notches.

His dark hair was messy and he was rather scrawny, honestly, as he walked around in only his boxer shorts, exposing his boney and slender frame. The second they heard him emerge from one of the bedrooms though, all the other women were quick to call out in rather high pitched, fake voice, "Good morning, Monty," to which he responded by letting out a rather exaggerated groan in reply, and the air didn't feel tense at all.

This, however, only made Shae all the more tense.

He'd been heading to the bathroom when, after glancing over towards the couch in passing, he spotted the trio there. Straightening up at this, he came to walk over to them instead, chest puffed out as he reached up to run a hand through his tussled hair.

There was a bit of a laugh in his tone, as he introduced himself. Taree and Anna couldn't hardly meet his eyes, the pill Lize had given them hardly having much affect in the face of their actual terrorizer, but Shae forced herself to stare right at him, eyes still and unwavering. Her gut was clenched and her breathing wasn't all there, but she hoped to present herself as unflinching in the face of evil.

But Monty didn't feel evil. Or at least not the acting force behind it. If even half of what Shae had both heard and imagined about the guy was true, he more than deserved the term. But still, he didn't appear untouchable in that moment, like she imagined a person of his stature would. Of his wealth and status.

There had to be more to him, as there were to most things, but especially, there had to be more to the manor in general.

Monty disappeared after his greeting, into the bathroom, where one of the women followed him, and while both Taree and Anna sighed in momentary relief, Shae only got to her feet.

None of the women had felt too welcoming, honestly. And she understood this. If it really was a ranking system, with the lower stock being rotated and potentially sentenced to a worse hell, then it wasn't beyond her to grasp why they might be weary of outsiders.

Still, Lize had taken something of an interest in them before and, as the woman walked by, Shae was quick to bound up and follow after her.

"So, hey," she asked, trailing behind the other woman as she headed into one of the bedrooms. "Um, Lize? I was wondering if there was something we should be doing."

"Doing?"

"Like… What do you do? All day?"

At the moment, she'd gone to sit on the edge of the bed in the room. There were two of them, twin sized, and lacking most anything else.

"Do?" she questioned as she produced a cigarette from her pocket. As she dug out a lighter as well, she nodded towards the bedroom window and questioned, "Can you pop that open?"

"Uh, yeah, sure." Turning to do so, Shae found that this room faced the back end of the house and, from her vantage point, she could make out The Factory, looming not far away. She imagined Haven still in there, fucking up her sewing and drawing the ire of the three women she was hoping to impress the most. Shoving the window open, she asked, "But I meant more in general. Shouldn't be we-"

"Just hang around." With the cigarette dangling from her lips, the woman almost reminded her of Astra. She was missing the nerves masked in apathy. "You'll know when you're needed."

Which sounded like a welcomed reprieve from the past few days, honestly, toiling away down in The Factory, but she was too antsy, on edge, to revel in it. She thought, also, that she should be focusing in on interacting with the other women, but besides Lize, they all seemed rather intent on ignoring the new women and, well, if she was going to be there for a good while, Shae imagined that it didn't matter much what she did that first day. Anna and Taree, who had no motive for being placed in the penthouse, were still nervously sitting beside one another and as Shae slowly rejoined them, she figured it was the best place for her. And while the waiting felt contentious for the other two, Shae focused her gaze out the window, watching the rising sun and disappearing inside herself.

A guard came eventually, the older, stern guy who'd first 'welcomed' them onto the property. He only stood by the doorway though, speaking to no one and instead glaring at the bathroom door heavily. Eventually, Monty came strolling out, looking far better than he'd gone in. His hair was slicked back now, still being styled by the man some as he ran a comb through it with care, his gaudy red suit rather striking and catching the eye far more.

He let out another groan, at the sight of his guard, but this one wasn't accompanied by anything, really, other than some uncomfortable silence as the women, who'd been busy doing their own tasks before, now all stood stock still, even peering out of the bedroom doorways as if entranced.

"Wick," Monty finally spoke, walking across the room, the woman who'd exited the bathroom with him staying behind, arms folded over her chest. "What's up? I forget something? I thought that there wasn't anything on the docket, this early. I was hoping to entertain our new guests."

The guy in question didn't glance towards the trio to which Monty gestured, instead only eyeing the younger man as he said, "Your esteemed guest arrives soon. There are still things to get in order. Books to be accounted for, paperwork to glance over. With time so short, it's best to start each day with our fullest of efforts."

There seemed to be a bit of a conflict then, in Monty, and Shae imagined he had the power to tell Wick to fuck off. It's what he seemed to want to do, having to bite the words back into his own throat.

"You're right," he seemed to decide in his short distance over to the older man. Slipping his comb into a jacket pocket, he even grinned some, though Wick didn't return it. To the other man's cold gaze, Monty offered, "Besides, work now, come back up later, huh? Really break them in."

He left. They both did. Without another word to any of the women. There was the sound, however, of the large lock sliding into place behind them.

And then the waiting started.

The movie lacrima and the stereo seemed to be off limits, no doubt belonging to 'the Master', but there seemed to be an endless supply of booze in the kitchen, as well as something the women all smoked and shared, leaving Shae more people watching to do than drifting into her own thoughts once more.

Haven told her that she should find the easiest woman to get to know and use it to her advantage. When Shae questioned how, Haven had rolled her eyes and retorted that she should figure it out on her own. With the blonde, she was finding that this usually meant she had no idea. Because, oh, if she had even the slightest of one, she'd love to throw it around with the same self-importance she did everything else.

But she wasn't wrong though.

At least no wholly.

The women were going to be as bit a key component to setting shit off on the property as getting to Monty was.

Taree's freak out from before seemed completely subdued now and, with the immediate threats far away, she'd slumped down on the couch, maybe her own exhaustion, mental and physical, taking over. But Anna didn't seem to be doing well as the time went on, filtering around the room, nervous. One of the women eventually took her aside, to speak softly and reassuringly, but not successfully.

Sympathetic, Shae wanted to do something for her, but she was just out of place. She still was aware of, if not even more so now, what the night entailed. Even more so though, as the time drifted and there seemed to be nothing for her to right do other than, drink or dread, she found her eyes getting heavier and, eventually….though she tried to fight it…

She drifted off.

It was jarring, when she was awakened. Confused and disoriented, she wasn't quite certain as to what was going on, but also wasn't given much of a chance to get her footing. She'd passed out on the couch, ignored by the other women for a few hours. It wasn't them, anyways, that awoke her. The women. No. Rather, the front door was thrown open and it wasn't Monty strolling in. Not alone at least.

Most of the guards had come up it seemed like, some holding beers while they were all speaking loudly, laughing, really, at something one of them said. Shae saw them as she sat up, but it was only through one eye as she was rubbing the sleep from the other still, dazed. She heard Anna from somewhere behind her, in the penthouse, let out something close to a stifled scream, maybe just the beginnings of a loud complaint, but another woman shushed her.

For all Shae had worried over keeping both Anna and Taree safe, however, as the sickening dread bubbled in her stomach, she couldn't even pace a glance their way. Rather, as her eyes fell over the different faces of the guards, she didn't feel unlike Tareee had, in the bathroom that morning, panicked beyond reason.

She thought this was different. Coming back here on her own terms. To Bosco. But once more, her emotions were creeping right back to where they had been during the first time her arm had been marked and she was foolish, to believe that she could do this, that she could go through with it.

She was going to fight back. Resist. Even if it fucked things over for the other women. Even if it meant that she would get expelled from the penthouse, from the property. She was going to run, without looking back, to the river and swim back for Fiore, back for Joya, back for anywhere these men, and she couldn't move, she couldn't think, but she had to, soon, she knew it, she-

Monty was talking, but not to her. Something with a sneering grin that, in the early evening, looked evil and demented. It was to Anna that he spoke and one of the other women was gripping her arm rightly, keeping her from crumpling to the ground, speaking softly through clinched teeth as one of the guards, a young guy, made some sort of remark about, "The Master breaking them in," but oh shit, shit, that would include her, wouldn't it?

Shae knew it would.

It definitely would.

There seemed to be more women though, than guards, and that might work to her favor, if she could just force herself to get up, to hide, to stay out of sight, then-

Someone grabbed her. From behind.

She was sitting up on the couch and someone grabbed her from behind, by the shoulders, trying to force her up. She could tell it wasn't one of the women, the grip far too rough, but she'd turned away from the door, fearful that eye contact might make her easier to choose her from the crowd. This apparently did little. And, as the person seemed insistent, her frozen in place fear was being changed to something else; anger.

And she was angry. At so many people. But in that moment, it was all going to be expended against the man, the guard, who'd touched her. When she jumped up though, turning to glare at him and probably throw a fist, it wasn't just some random guy standing across the couch from her.

Rather, it was Locke.

"Come on," he said, having to yell some as one of the guards had gone over to the stereo system, turning up so loud tunes. Locke, a bit red in the face (and definitely not from the alcohol), took a glance around again, as if fearful of being observed. Clearing his throat, he said in a more commanding tone, "You're coming with me."

There was a beat where Shae and Locke both just stared at one another, his eyes pleading in a way not so dissimilar from her own, but as it passed, she was quick to move around the couch, to the man, who grabbed her hand and drug her to the closest of the bedrooms.

Shutting and locking the door behind them, Locke let out a long breath as he left a hand against the door. The room was dark, save the last bits of sunlight peeking around the blinds, and as Shae stared at the man's back, she tried hard to focus on the fabric of his shirt, on the details, knowing if she could just get something else in her mind, anything else, then she could calm down.

Locke's shoulders slumped as, slowly, he hand fell from the door and he turned to face the woman. Bringing a finger up to his mouth, he requested silence as he moved to closer to her cautiously. Softly, he whispered, "I'm sorry if I fucked this up, but I couldn't let them… Are you okay?"

No. But she nodded, regardless, her anxiety and animosity no longer having a proper outlet and instead welling in large tears in the corner of her eyes. Blinking them back, she turned away from the man for a moment before, with a bit of a wracking sob, her chest heaved and she reached out for him, falling into the man's chest.

There was an awkward edge added in this action (as if the entire thing wasn't so), causing Locke to hesitated for a moment before tightly wrapping his arms around the woman. They'd only known one another for a few months, but he'd come to see her as much the same as Haven, not exactly the type for such displays around others. And, when after a moment she pulled away and turned from him, Locke only off with a deep breath.

"Won't one of them," Shae whispered after a moment, "come in here? Or-"

"No," he assured her then. "I worked something out. With Monty. We're… The past few days, me and him… Well, we're kinda friends now. I guess."

Which felt weird to admit aloud, but it had been one of Haven's directives, to get close to the Master. And, as Locke found out, that wasn't as difficult as he'd originally imagined.

Monty was young. Younger than most of his guards. But further than that, he had a bit of a delayed development. Growing up in the guild, Locke knew some immature guys, but fuck, Monty was one of the worst. He acted like spoiled little shit, whining and grumbling through any attempts at looking over actual business (which, for him, would only include mostly going over documents and observing the warehouse), and instead spending most of his time goofing off in his arcade. He downed sodas through the afternoon and beers through the evening, enjoyed his movie and music lacrimas heavily, and perv on the women provided to him in the penthouse.

Only a few days ago, Locke had finally been promoted to a fixed schedule. Part of it was the front hall during the afternoon. He'd yet to see anything really worth patrolling on the property, literally at all, but having the front hall sure beat the heat outside. Just some pacing around. Nothing too important or difficult (nor sweat inducing).

It was boring though and, much like Haven the first time on Ewing's manor, he found himself kind of disappointed in the lack of action presented. They'd both grown up in guilds where your problems with a sinister entity were addressed in the immediate, within a few nights at the most, never a full week. Just some grueling battles that pushed you to and passed your limits until, eventually, you came out the ultimate victor and saved the world from a little bit of evil once again.

Things were different here. They were relearning how to address a problem. While Locke had always been bright and was adequate at problem solving, it was the added waiting around that killed him most. He thought he'd be back home in a few months to a year, hailed as the S-Class wizard who helped free an entire kingdom; instead, it was looking like he might be caught up in all of this for a lot longer.

He was bemoaning this, maybe, a bit, as he walked around the hall that day. As he'd yet to see an actualized threat, he wasn't really focused in on one. Just pacing. He thought about Haven, mostly. And Shae too. Hoping that they were doing alright with their half of things. He felt even more useless when he thought of them toiling away while he got to do nothing all day.

It made him jump, the sound of Monty yelling from his arcade did and, fearing he'd somehow missed something, Locke was quick to cross the short front hall over to the room, peeking inside with a frown.

"Uh," he called out softly, "Master?"

"It's so," the young man in question was growling as he stood before an arcade cabinet, kicking at the thick machine with a glare, "fucking stupid!

Locke spotted him, further in the room, yelling at the game, but still found himself clearing his throat and taking a step further in.

"Is everything...okay?" he questioned as he came forward. "Master?"

"What?" Turning to look at the other man, Monty only sneered, "Yeah, other than the fact I can't fucking figure this level out. I run out of time before I fucking get eaten by the-"

"Are you on level nine?" Locke could properly read the font now, on the top of the cabinet, and smiled some. "With the undead bride?" At Monty's nod, Locke insisted, "You have to make sure you get the special ray gun from the bridge area on the left side of the map before you cross the mid section. If not, then there's no way you're going to be able to defeat her."

Narrowing his eyes at the other guy, Monty questioned, "You play?"

"I used to," he offered with a sharp nod of his head. "But back home, the cabinet art wasn't nearly this nice. Wow. Even the lettering looks cool!"

"Kingdom differences," Monty said before, taking a step back, he nodded towards the machine. "Did you...wanna try it out? And see if there are any level differences?"

"W-Well, I'm kinda on duty, so-"

"I'm," Monty told him as the slight grin that had begun to tug at his lips started to trend right back down, "Master."

Of course he was.

And that meant that he got whatever he wanted. Locke was certain that that exact sentiment was expressed in that exact way many times from the man and, with a nod, only moved to take his place leaning over the cabinet.

The oddness of the scenario wasn't lost on Locke. While Haven had told him to find out all that he could on the man, he doubted she ever thought that they'd be playing video games together, sharing sodas and laughs as they explored the levels of a rpg and snickered over traded aspects of their lives.

He was always good at making friends, Locke was, and while in that moment he thought that it was a good thing that he'd found amity with the man, later that night, in his room, he felt rather shameful about it. Joking with the guy. Laughing at his stories. Cheering, together, over a videogame. Having a good time.

Locke had an actual good time with the guy.

He felt sick.

Sick enough that Haven noted his change when they met the next day, but he only shrug through her questions and she was going on about how she and Shae were still trying to figure out when they were going to pick the women, and that if he could find out anything about it, she'd need that info soon, probably.

Locke was forced to reason with himself that, obviously, the day before had been a fluke and, had it not, then him being friendly to Monty was just him following along with the plan and nothing more. Clearly. Definitely.

Right?

But around dinner time that evening, when Locke got off, Monty seemed to be waiting on him, griping a bit about having been too busy when the guard was on hall duty that day, but now he was a free. And they could probably have some beers and maybe some food? In the arcade? Only if he wanted. He did have a pool table…

And it was imperative that Locke got as close to the guy as possible, on the surface, so of course he agreed, sweating it a bit because part of him was also worried someone had seen him cavorting around with Haven, but Monty seemed very uninterested with Locke and far more intent with spilling all of his own personal baggage.

Rather freely too.

Monty was...lonely. That's what Locke figured over the course of the next few days. He had all the money he could want, but for some reason seemed trapped on the property with it, where he either had the company of his guards or women he'd captured and branded. Removed from the horror aspect, it had to be a rather lonely existence.

Maybe.

There was a slight edge to a lot of what he spoke about though. An undertone. He spoke of his father, who'd only passed a few years prior, leaving him the house and the business. He spoke of his relatives, both actual and just a part of the larger seedy side of Bosco. He knew the King and had had dinner before, in the palace. Knowing Locke wasn't from the Kingdom, he told him all about it's history and glory.

"Things used to be different," Monty told him at one point as they drank out on the front porch one evening, just the two of them. Some of the other guards hung around and Locke had already seen that his buddy-buddy relationship with the Master was not going unnoticed. "When I was a kid. The business… It used to be a lot more… My father didn't just make his money off stupid clothing shit, you know We were something back then. Important. Then the Kingdom went through an overhaul and now? Now, look at this place. Just a bunch of fucking old women, spending all day sewing." Glaring off, Monty downed the rest of the beer in his can before reiterating, "Things used to be different. A lot different."

The other guards weren't exactly pleased with Locke's getting in close to the boss. Monty was seen more as a nuisance, an idea stemming mainly from Wick it seemed like, and the idea that Locke fit better in with the man than them clearly was problematic. Still, Monty was in charge and if he liked Locke, the mage figured there could be no better job guarantee than this.

When he heard that, finally, new women had been chosen to make their way upstairs, Locke had a horrible, sinking feeling that somehow, Haven had managed to get herself up there. He didn't doubt her desire to destroy things from the inside out, but definitely wanted her nowhere near the penthouse. Some of the guards snickered too, about bringing him into the ranks, and Locke responded with the same unease he typically did, but this was seen as funny to them. Entertaining.

He couldn't quite focus on anything until he managed to pull his schedule off course, just enough, that he was able to cross path with the women as they ate lunch outside The Factory that day. He saw Haven and while that was a relief, Shae not being around was a rather large concern and, fuck, he had to get up to the penthouse that night.

He knew he did.

When Haven first told him about it, he kinda resolved to avoid that portion of things. He kinda just hoped they could unravel the manor in some way that didn't involve him willingly going up to the third floor. But if Shae was up there, then he needed to be there.

It turned into his advantage though, he and Monty becoming friendly over the past few days. While the other guys were hyped up over the new prospects that evening, Locke managed to talk to Monty that afternoon and somewhere around their drinks and games, he was able to impart one thing on the man.

"When we go up there tonight," he started, but Monty only laughed.

"Excited?" he questioned. "You've been with a chick before, haven't you?"

"Y-Yeah, of course." Locke even frowned. "That's not the issue."

"Then-"

"I just… When we go up there, uh, is it, like, you know… Could I be alone?"

"The fuck wants to be alone? Be alone in your own damn room."

"No, I meant...with a girl. The woman. Or women? I just-"

"You got a fucked dick or something?"

"No! I-"

"It's cool." Monty hardly glanced away from the screen he was currently hobbled over. "Just… Don't make a big deal about it. Pick a woman, go off into one of the rooms, and everyone will be so into their own shit, they'll hardly give a fuck about you. Not nearly as much fun that way, though, huh?"

It seemed to work though. After absconding off with Shae into a separate room, no one seemed to come after them and Locke knew they didn't have forever, but as they stood there, he thought he'd give Shae a few moments, to collect herself.

"Friends," was finally what she said to him, questioning in her tone as, from beyond the locked door, they both heard someone crying. A woman, to Locke, but to Shae, she knew the yelling as Anna and only balled a fist tightly. "That's what you are?"

Locke frowned, glaring over his shoulder at the door now, but didn't immediately respond. After drawing in a ragged breath of his own though, he told her simply, "I can't save everyone."

"No." Rubbing at her arm, she sniffled and looked to him once more. "Not yet, anyways."

"Look, I didn't have a lot of time," Locke began then, reaching into his pocket for something, "but I made these for you."

"What is it?" Shae asked with a frown when the man produced three, tiny vials filled with a clear liquid. Glancing up at him with a frown, she questioned, "Some sort of potion?"

"Yeah, exactly." He held them out to the woman. "I crafted them, before I came up here. Just kinda threw them together really."

"What are they for though?" Taking them into her own palm with care, Shae shook her head some. "I'm not a mage, you know. I don't-"

"That's the thing," he insisted. "You don't have to be. These are, like… They'll put the person to sleep. I can't, you know, I can't say that I'll always be here. To protect you. But if you have these and you were able to use it on a guard, then maybe-"

"How does it work?" she asked, studying them closer. "I have to lace his drink? Or-"

"Easier than that," Locke assured her. "You pop that cap and then toss it in the face of the guy. It'll knock him out for a good half hour, if not longer. When he wakes up, hopefully he'll just think it was from the drinking or-"

"Hopefully?"

Grimly, he told her, "I didn't have much time to put these together. No mind altering stuff in there. Just good enough to knock him unconscious. That's all. I'll work on it though. On more of them. More potent ones."

At the sound of one of the guys yelling then, no doubt at one of the women, just outside the door, Locke felt something rise in his chest again and had to be the one to turn away from her then.

"I can't help everyone yet," he told her simply. "Just you. But, just… The sooner you find out whatever it is you need from up here, the better, okay? I'll tell Haven that you're alright. Is there anything else? That she needs to know right now?"

"Nothing. Today, I just… She should find out why she was chosen." Shae shook her head. "Or why I was. Why she had to stay behind and why I went. I don't think that any of the men had to do with that. The women did. Those three women she wants to be in with so badly. She's no good at the job they have her in currently; so why keep her down there?"

The man nodded before saying, "Yeah, she, uh, mentioned that she's not great at sewing."

"She's awful, Locke."

They shared a look, but a sound from outside the door, a low (yet, clearly put on) moan making them both blush and him shuffle his feet. Softly, to the ground, he asked, "You'll be alright here, won't you, Shae?"

"I mean," she started, glancing down at the vials she clutched in her hand, "these will help. Some. The rest of the time seems to be waiting around. And the point is for me to get close to the other women, right? And Monty? Find out what I can up here? We have you with the guards, Haven in The Factory, and me up here. That's all bases covered."

"But," he insisted, "you'll be okay?"

"I'll be fine. This is what I signed up for, isn't it? I told Astra I'd do anything Haven wouldn't. So this is it." Shae made a face though before softly insisting, "We have to figure a way to wreck this place. From the inside out. And that'll take all three pieces. Don't you think?"

They sat, on opposite beds, and listened to what took place beyond the door. Locke was tense, the entire time, clenching and unclenching a fist, while Shae rolled the vials in her and sighed.

Eventually, when things seemed to calm down some out there, he rose to his feet and, speaking softly, questioned, "Will you be alright?"

At her nod, Locke whispered a promise to check in on her the next time he was able before braving the door once more. He was slow about it, diliberate, when he unlocked the knob, hoping for as little noise in the mostly still apartment as possible. Then, creaking the door openly slowly, he took a quick look around, turned back to give Shae a look of confirmation before taking his leave. He took the same steps, it seemed, when leaving the penthouse, as Shae hardly even noted the sound of the door closing into place behind him.

Shifting back on the bed, she curled up on her side, the vials lying beside her, absently running her hand over their smooth glass encasing. She didn't truly drift off, not fully, but the sound of movement outside her closed door did give the woman something of a start. As she held her breath though, she was able to note that the heavy thuds of footsteps were headed not towards the room, but rather away from it.

To the front of the apartment.

And, with less care than Locke, it seemed the other guards were all filing out, varying states of sober as their grumbles reached her ears. It was around that time that she could hear some of the other women as well, after the men were for sure gone, getting up and coming to fall into beds finally as well. The door to the room she was in got shoved open and though Shae instinctively flinched, it was only one of the women and after all this died down, the apartment was truly still again.

Or at least it should have been.

She ended to sleep, truly now, at least for a few hours then, but the apartment was opened one last time. But softly. And the footsteps she heard weren't from large men, but sounded rather muffled and soft.

The woman who'd come in before hadn't closed the bedroom door and, sitting up, Shae found that she could just peer out into the open area. Her breathing felt tight and she gripped a vial in one hand, her nerves still all jacked up, but…

She'd been right.

It wasn't a man.

Or a woman.

Rather, the person she found frittering around the trashed living space was a teenager. A girl. She looked no more than Xavier's age, honestly, and as Shae found herself climbing out of the bed to go investigate further, she had a strange feeling pass over her.

Everything up to this point, the whole time, had been like a strange out of body experience, going through motions and worrying about outcomes n a way that she typically didn't, but as she approached the teen, this at least somewhat felt like herself.

There was no fear at least, not immediate anyways, as she walked out of the bedroom and came to a stop, right there, not noted by the teen, who was bent over in front of the couch, shoving trash into a bag. Clearing her throat, Shae watched as the teen stifled and glanced behind herself.

"I-I'm sorry." The girl was quick to shove right up, pushing back a stray strand of dark hair that had escaped her messy bun. Eyes wide and fearful, she whispered, "I didn't mean to bother you. I just-"

"What are you doing?" Shae questioned. "Here?"

"What do you mean? I'm cleaning. I come every other day," she kept up, "and every night after a...a… You shouldn't speak to me. Are you new?"

But Shae didn't answer her question, instead asking, "You're not one of us...are you?"

"One of you?" The teen seemed confused for a moment before, with a blush, shaking her head and insist, "N-No! I'm not… I'm not even a… I'm not marked." And she raised her arm, to show this. The only light in the whole room was a tiny lamp, but it was enough. "That's why we shouldn't speak."

"Then what are you?" Shae couldn't help it; she had to know. "Why are you here?"

"My father… He's one of the guards. The head guard. And my mother…" Shaking her head, she again insisted, "You shouldn't speak to me. Please, I need to finish my work."

She hesitated, Shae did, but did find herself nodding in agreement though, instead of retreating back to the bedroom, she only slowly went to sink into the opposite couch than the one the teen was cleaning near.

"If it's okay," she asked the girl, "I'd like to sit out here. Please?"

The teen allowed this and Shae felt better, with a good view on both the front door and the room she was nearly certain Monty's cretin ass was hiding in, and when she fell asleep on the couch, it was more comfortable than last time.

But the night was only behind them. There were many more ahead.

The next morning, Monty departed earlier than he had the previous, and without rousing any of the other women. He saw Shae, curled up on the couch, and as she groggily watched him leave, she felt deep hatred flow through her.

Taree and Anna had a far worse morning than she, but she'd been locked away with the new guard and, for the other women, this felt just as dicey, so she played off being spooked pretty well. Anna just sat alone the whole morning and Taree drank and smoke with the other women and maybe it did make her feel better.

Maybe.

For Locke though, the morning meant more than just the cutting remarks of the other guards, who questioned what he'd been up to the night before. Rather, he was meant to see Haven in the shed that day and he could hardly busy himself until the afternoon came around. Monty seemed occupied himself, honestly, with something in the office that Wick hung around for most of the day and, though he didn't know much of what it was all about, he did catch that name again.

Alwood.

It wasn't from the two of them that he caught the name, however. It came from a woman, instead, that he definitely ran smack into in his departure from his room that day.

He'd gone back to it, after his shifts were finished with, to retrieve something to bring to the shed, but that was eating into his time to check in with Haven, so he was rushing a bit. It wasn't like anyone was going to question him on his unexplained excitement; no one seemed to pay much attention to anyone else on the property. Not really. His fellow guards seemed to be a mix of one or two old veterans and then guys not unlike himself, who just hadn't fit in too well where they were and found themselves there then, detached from the situation. While the former might have some care over the property, the latter were certainly all there to do the bare minimum. And on what amounted to little more than a warehouse for middle aged women who needed very little interaction or prodding.

It was a boring job.

And it bred a lot of indifference.

Locke whereabouts, so long as he was stationed during his slotted hours, was little concern to anyone. Anderson, the guy he got paired with frequently, even left the property at times, to journey in to town. There were no restrictions.

Still, Locke had a feeling, were anyone to know of his meetings with one of the slave women, it probably wouldn't go over well.

He couldn't help himself though, that day, as he headed out to get to her. He had a lot to tell her, after all, in reference to Shae, and wasn't paying close enough attention when, right outside of his bedroom, he ran smack into someone else.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," he apologized easily as, having knocked the person before him to the ground, he quickly moved to help her up. "I didn't see-"

"It's quite alright," the woman assured him, taking the help with a tight smile. She'd quite clearly been startled by the man and took to dusting off the sharp, gray blazer she wore as he hauled her to her feet. "I'm sure it was really my fa-"

"No, it was all mine." Locke bounced on his feet though, as he glanced her over. As the woman straightened her thick, black rimmed glasses, he questioned, "Are you alright?"

"I think I'll managed," she answered, now composed once more, taking to glancing the man over. "It seems you're the one due an apology now; I don't believe we've met on any of my previous trips here."

"Oh, well, I'm new." And this time, when he reached out, Locke did so with the intention of shaking her hand. "I'm Hux. One of the new security guards."

"That's right." And she gripped his hand, tightly, shaking it stiffly while staring deeply into his red hued eyes with her tawny own. "Monty did mention hiring a new one of those."

Locke couldn't help it. He'd already been hyped up, over meeting Haven, but when the woman took his hand, he felt heat rise to his cheeks and he just...well…

Quickly releasing her hand, he moved to toss a hand behind his head, laughing some as he remarked, "I'm sorry. Again. For keeping you. I actually just got off my shift and-"

"Then surely, I'm the one keeping you." The young woman smiled at him again, but this time, it felt much easier. "I'm sure we'll encounter one another again soon enough."

"Is there something that makes you so certain?" he asked dumbly.

"Monty is your master, but my own, Mr. Alwood, he will be here soon enough," she explained. "As his persona assistant, it is my job to know everything about anyone he might interact with."

"Even lowly guards?"

"Especially," she insisted, "lowly guards."

"Well, as a guard," he reasoned back, "I should probably know about your master. And you too."

"You should," she agreed eyes alight as they aligned with his. At her next words, however, her smile fell some and she remarked, "But the fact you don't tells me an awful lot about your ability to preform your job correctly."

He snorted then, hand falling from behind his head as he insisted, "I'm new, is all."

"Well, here a tip then, new Hux." And she was moving to walk around him then, headed to a different room on the second floor it seemed. "I expect you to be better acclimated, the next time we meet. I'm sure it will be sooner than you think."

"Uh, yeah, sure," he agreed easily enough, glancing after her. Then, with a frown down at his watch, he noted the time and had to hustle, once more.

"Way to be late, idiot."

And it did not go without notice.

"Love you too. Glad to see you're doing okay," Locke retorted softly to his girlfriend's annoyed greeting. As he quickly shut the shed door behind himself, he was moving to present her with something. "I was getting you this."

"I don't want gifts, Locke. I want news. About Shae. And plans. And- Oh, shit, where did you get this?"

He grinned some, the man did, as the woman snatched the can from his palm.

"I snagged it," he bragged. "From Monty."

"Monty," she repeated softly, but it absently as, instead, she was focused then on popping the tab of the can he'd handed her. The can had been shaken though, when he'd collided with that woman, and fizzled all over, but Haven was too mesmerized to gripe at him. Instead, she brought the can closer, licking at her hands and a bit at the can in a childish way as the soda from it spewed. Between this action, she got out, "They make it here? Still?"

"Yep. Discontinued in Fiore, apparently, but not Bosco. Monty seemed surprised that I knew about it, even," he went on, watching now as his girlfriend quickly changed to chugging down the soda. "I told him we used to have it, all the way in Fiore, when I was a kid. And he thought it was funny, because he keeps them around because they remind him of when he was a kid, and I knew they were your favorite, so I took one to-"

"How's Shae?" After downing her drink, Have squashed the can in her palm before tossing it at her boyfriend's head. As he dodged that with a glare, she only insisted, "Have you seen her?"

"Yeah, I have. And she's fine. For now." Bending down to pick the can back up, Locke said, "I gave her some sleeping potions to use if the men get to close to her. I'll look out for her. I thought… I thought for sure they'd chose you, to go up to the penthouse, but-"

"It didn't happen, so don't worry about it," she said with a roll of her eyes. "Why were you hanging out so close to the Master? Huh?"

"W-Well… We're kinda… We play the arcade games together and I think he thinks that we're friends and-"

"That's great, Locke."

It really didn't feel like it the majority of the time.

"So you're in with the Master-"

"I wouldn't say in, really, I just-"

"-and Shae's about to crack the penthouse wide open-"

"Again, I don't think-"

"-and I'm practically endeared my way into the inner circle of the older women-"

"Wait, you've what?" Frowning, he asked, "Did something change?"

"Maybe I've been making friends."

"Have you?"

Sort of.

Well…

The day Shae left, Haven thought she'd be excited at the plan coming together so perfectly, but instead she found herself feeling rather concerned for the other woman and anxious over what awaited her. This played well in garnering the sympathy of the women she worked with it seemed, who all looked on her with something of pity now, as her friend was taken to the dreaded penthouse.

"It's only been a day," she reasoned with the man, "but...I might have found an in with some people. Finally. And they moved me to Shae's old job, so I'm not fucking up with the sewing machine anymore."

"That's...good?"

"I think so," Haven said confidently, but this meant little as the woman almost always was.

"Shae thought you should look into why you weren't chosen," he offered. "As far as I can tell, it had nothing to do with any of us guards. Or Monty. It was those three women that chose. And since you're shit at your job-"

"Was," she defended with a huff. "I was shit at my job."

"You're better now?" he challenged.

"W-Well…. Shut up, Locke. Hux. You idiot. Folding is harder than it looks."

"The point," he insisted, "was that if you're only hurting their quotas, there's no reason for them to keep you on. Especially if they had the easy out to send you upstairs. Why not put you up there?"

"The women come back," Haven told him simply. "Three went up there, yeah, but two came back, right before that."

"So they wouldn't send you up there for because shit at your job because you'll just come back and be even shittier at it?" At her glare, he huffed some before insisting, "I'm just saying, Haven, that you're a liability. And yet Monty's not going to punish you. The guards are uninterested in you. And the women are annoyed with you, but not doing anything to you either. Even sending you away. There must be something that's going to happen to you."

"Fat chance." She tapped over where her guild marking typically lay, hidden beneath her transformation. "I'm Ahesuka."

"You contain a weakened form of the demon Ahesuka, along with your more powerful mother, which is a trump card, fine, but can only be used once, as it would blow your cover and- Don't fucking shove me, Haven."

"Then don't ever fucking say my mother's stronger than me." Then she thought. "Or anyone."

"Haven-"

"You're right," she huffed, turning away from the man. "There's something going on that we don't know about yet. But I really do think I'm making friends. And the more I make-"

"I met someone." Locke coughed, after his words, glancing away from his girlfriend before saying, "I mean… I ran into someone. Literally. A woman. Not one of the….penthouse… In the hall. I ran into a woman in the hall and-"

"Oh, yeah? One of the kitchen women? We don't have an inside eye in there," she conceded. "But I was on kitchen duty last time and I really don't-"

"Alwood's assistant."

"Alwood?" This got her full gaze again. "Is he here? Now?"

"Not yet," he told her. "Btu soon. His assistant arrived today, I guess. I wasn't told about it though, but the guys have been kind of hazing me still, I think, because I'm the new guy, and I think they're also jealous of me and Monty-"

"Did you two speak?" Haven really didn't want to hear about his guard troubles. "When you ran into her?"

"Uh, well, actually, yeah." :Then he coughed, shaking his head some as he insisted, "But only for a minute. Or two. She was nice. But-"

"No one here is nice. Not even me." Slamming a fist into an open palm, Haven made a face as she said, "Alwood seemed really grimy, back at Ewing's place. But his assistant… Do you think you could run into her again? And talk to her some more? I bet-"

"She seemed really, uh, well… We might have shaken hands, yeah. And talked. For a minute. Like I said. But I'm just a guard and-"

"And you're all buddy-buddy with the Master after only a few weeks." Haven looked him over then before saying, "Don't sell yourself short, Locke. That's my job."

"I think," he finally admitted, "that she might have been into me."

"Good. Idiot." Haven was frowning though, especially at her next words. "Use that."

"See, you always say shit like that, but-"

"We're out of time." She reached for him then, taking one of his hands and tugging him closer. As Locke frowned down at him, she only beamed up into his face as she insisted me, "Bring me another one? Of those sodas? Next time?"

"We're taking over Bosco before this is all over, aren't we?" Locke made a face when she shoved him away, going to peek out the shed. "Own a country, you can have as many as you want."

"Locke?" Haven hesitated, before exiting the shed, just to glance back at him.

"Yeah?"

"Fuck her if you have to," she told him simply. "If we can jump from here to Alwood, and take them both down-"

"Go, Haven." He didn't understand it. Why she liked it so much better, to end on sour notes. "Before you get caught."

While Haven and Locke were now in the know about Alwood's immediate arrival, it was still a surprise to Shae, who'd forgotten about the man, the next morning when one of the women brought him up.

"You know," Lize remarked to her that morning as she stood at a bedroom window, smoking, and Shae, not fully awake yet, laid in bed, staring at the wall, "you're actually kind of lucky."

"Lucky?" Shae questioned through a yawn, hardly lifting her head.

"Yep. Lucky. Like I told you the first day, it's not so bad here, is it?" She sighed some, blowing smoke out the window as she insisted, "Monty told me last night that Alwood'll be around today."

"Alwood," Shae whispered.

"Yep. The one that'll take the others. The ones that got sent back." She shook her head then, frowning. "It's hard. I guess. You'll get it, eventually, we all do, but… I didn't dislike them. The two women that got booted outta here. For you. And Taree and Anna. But…"

"They're going with Alwood."

She took a drag then, Lize did, nodding before she was able to agree with a simple, "Yep. Them and any of the ones that didn't get chosen to come up here. That's what they say, anyways."

Then, after a pause, she said, "Last night, when I was thinking about it, I thought, you know, maybe… Maybe it's not so bad there. At Alwood's. But from what I hear… It's just this looming thing. Over your head. The idea of it. Of going there. Of-"

"Maybe we overthrow Monty and the guards and fuck out of here. To avoid it."

Lize paused again, but this time, it was followed by a laugh and a shake of her head as she didn't even glance over at the other woman while sarcastically replying, "Yeah. Let's get on that."

Shae smiled, to the wall, before saying, "I heard it too. You know. The older women, down in The Factory, they told me that's what's where you go. And to beware of him. Alwood. That you get sent up here or you...you… Fuck!"

She sat up with such speed that it gave her vertigo, but as she jumped out of the bed, she realized rather quickly she had nowhere to go. As Lize turned to look at her curiously, Shae only felt a panic creep into her chest at her slight, her misunderstanding, her gaffe.

"You alright?" Frowning, Lize took one last, long draw of the cigarette before smashing it into the ashtray on the wind sill before turning to go over to the woman. Shae was bouncing, on her feet, and rubbing at her arm as she looked around the room. As she came to stand beside the other woman, she only patted gently at her shoulder while questioning, "It just hit you, huh? It does us all. Here. Like I told you," and she somehow had one of those pills on her then, that she'd given Anna and Taree, that first day, "this helps to take on your own."

But she didn't get it, Lize didn't as she looked on with the best sympathy she could muster for the woman. She didn't understand. Shae wasn't afraid of Alwood; she had no reason to be. All the times she'd been warned about him the past few days didn't matter. So she didn't listen well enough. She hadn't understood. She'd gotten into the penthouse, where she was going to help undermine it from the inside out and that was good, that was great, but…

Haven didn't come.

Instead, she stayed behind, in hopes of working on the outside, but that wouldn't happen, would it?

Because Haven was going to be taken by Alwood.