"Jamie. Jamie! Come on, please wake up, please please please..."
"Wha'?" She only barely registered Tash's voice.
"Jamie? Oh come on, please, you've gotta wake up now cause this is crazy, it's a bunch of stupid hicks and they've got us all locked up, oh please wake up..."
It takes a long moment, but she manages to form words. "Jesus f-ing Christ."
"Ohmygod your awake thankgodIthought..."
"Tash. You know I love yah. But seriously. Shut the hell up a minute."
Silence. The only sound now is Tash's heavy breathing.
Jamie takes in a deep breath and winces a bit. The good news is, whatever the hillybilly creeps had shot her up with has long since worn off. The bad news is, they're in a barn now, and she knows that because it reeks.
She has to force her own eyes open, but once she does, she's wide awake. Sunlight creeps liberally through the cracks in the barns roof above them, bright and teasing of a freedom which the girls no longer possess. Jamie takes a moment to process this, and then slowly tries moving the arm that had been pulled out of place. It's stiff and a little sore, which is to be expected even with her healing factor, but she can move it. So the kidnappers had popped it back into place while she was sedated, as the woman had promised. Once her eyes have adjusted to the light, she works her way into a sitting position and gets a look at Tash.
The other girl is clearly shaken, moderately hysterical even, but appears basically unharmed. Jamie lets out a relieved breath. "Relax." She tells the other girl. "We've got some time to think. We're no good to them if they bang us all up."
"What?" Tash scowls. "What do you mean - they kidnapped us!"
"And yet you've got what? Nothin' but a few bruises and a cut on your arm? And they fixed my shoulder up. I don't know what the hell they want us for, but clearly they need us in good shape. If not, we wouldn't be in such good shape. So take a deep breath. We're not dead meat yet."
Tash just stares at her a moment, taking a moment to think that through. "Oh. That..that makes sense."
"Have you seen them yet?"
"Not exactly. One of them brought food enough for me while you were still out. I mean, I think it was one of them, it was clearly a guy, but I didn't really see the ones who attacked us."
"Any idea how long ago that was?"
"No. Its been a few hours maybe, it was pitch black dark out when they came."
Jamie pulls herself to her feet and looks around. "They'll probably be back soon then, see if I'm awake yet."
"How can you be so calm?" Tash asks, sounding frustrated now.
"Things could be worse." Jamie shrugs. "Did the guy say anything when he brought yah food?"
"No."
"Did you eat what he brought?"
Tash shakes her head and gestures with a shaking hand to an untouched plate of meat and potatoes and bread. A tin cup full of water sits next to it.
Jamie walks over and picks up the plate, sniffing at the food. Smells like it should, doesn't seem to be anything wrong. She picks up one of the roasted potatoe slices and pops it into her own mouth.
"Wait, what if it's poisoned or something!" Tash screechs.
Jamie sets the plate back down. "Wouldn't kill me anyway. Don't think it's poisoned, though."
"How would you know!"
"Smells fine."
"How the hell would you know what poison smells like?"
"Fought a guy in a cage match back home. Kicked his ass, he wasn't too happy about it. Guess he thought he'd get away with slippin' something in my drink easier than he would tryin' to shoot a girl straight down the head, the fuckin' psycho. S'how I know it wouldn't kill me, incidentally."
Tash just stares at her now.
"You've gotta be starvin', eat." Jamie says. (Jamie's starving. Her stomachs roaring at her and she feels lightheaded. Healing like she'd had to..she'll need something to eat too. Soon.)
(Wild Thing nudges the food towards her friend anyway.)
"You were hurt. You should eat." Tash tries to refuse.
"Told yah. They'll prob'bly be back for me soon. Eat."
"But what if -"
Wild Thing barks at her. "Just eat the damned food!"
Tash starts almost violently, but seems to think better of protesting further. She sits and begins trying to eat.
...
They wait mostly in silence for hours more, maybe several of them, there's no way to tell. Jamie hears what's most certainly cars pulling up outside, and the sound of a woman's high heels clicking hollowly against wood. Then all is silent again for a while, until footsteps sound outside coming closer. The barn doors open, flooding the abysmal space with more light.
It's the girl and all three of her large friends. The men hang back a bit at her command, and she comes forward. "Well now, thank the good Lawd, Ah's beginnin to wonder if yah'd ever wake up. Hows the arm? Healin' awright?"
Silence. Wild Thing glares.
"Aw, c'mon now, we fixed yah up good and brought yah friend some food, yah could at least pretend to be grateful."
"For fixin' the arm your goon back there damn near detached from my body? Sure. Thanks. Now what do yah want with us?" Jamie asks.
"Ah don't want nothin'." The girl holds her hands up in mock surrender. "Don't norm'ly tend to agree to go after ones strong as you, s'too risky. But Ah got a friend who's really just dyin' to meet yah, short stuff. Now, Ah can promise, we won't hurt yah. Ah got mouths to feed and Ah don't make money unless y'all're in good shape when Ah pass yah 'long. And yah're friend here's not much good to nobody - no 'ffense sweetheart - so Ah can promise she'll be let go. We only took her in the first place cause she came at us causin' more of a ruckus. Now do I gotta shoot yah up again or are yah willin' t' trust me on that?"
Poor Tash is so confused and afraid that she's sobbing quietly. Jamie reaches out a slow hand to gently squeeze the other girls arm. "Breathe. See? No ones gonna hurt you." Not that she really believes that, but Tash looks about ready to pass out from the panic. Being that there isn't much else she can do, Jamie turns to the skinny girl. "Ok. I'll be good."
The skinny girl nods and waves one of her friends forward. He instructs Tash to step back a few paces, and then handcuffs Jamie. "Jus' fer peace o' mind on my end."
"Fair 'nough."
They lead her out of the barn. They're really in the middle of nowhere. Surrounded by fields on every side. There's another old barn too, and some silos, and a large old farm house, and Jamie can see cows grazing out in the fields, as well as quite a few chickens wandering the yard. So it's an active farm. They lead her over and into the house. It's ancient but kept surprisingly tidy and clearly lived in. Jamie can smell the evidence of there being a cat or two somewhere around, and there's two children peeking their little heads out of a room as Jamie passes down a hallway. They bare a startling resemblance to the skinny girl, who shoos them away firmly but with a softness to her voice.
Jamie's lead further along the hallway until they reach the room at the end. It's a dining room, small but cozy, set with a full dinner - perfect cuts of juicy steak, mashed potatoes and gravy, home made macaroni and cheese casserole. The works. Her stomach roars at the sight of it, almost painfully empty.
Someone clears their throat. A woman, standing at the head of the table, hands tucked into her pockets as she eyes Jamie up. She's dressed in a fine, fitted pantsuit, and is the definitive owner of the heels Jamie had heard earlier. She smiles. "My, my. Look at those eyes, they're just lovely." She seems truly in awe. Her accent is posh British, though it isn't strong.
Jamie hadn't realized; Wild Thing is floating pretty close to the surface, so her eyes must be flushed pretty heavy with gold. "Thanks." She answers, wary.
"Tell me, is that necessary?" She nods towards Jamie's cuffed hands. "I apologize for the unorthodox methods used to get you here, I'm afraid the whole operation was somewhat botched. I really only wish to talk, and I would hate for this lovely dinner to go to waste."
Jamie's beginning to feel lightheaded. She hasn't eaten since..since yesterday morning before she and Tash left the mansion to go shopping. Healing like she had had taken a lot of energy, not to mention the fight. She has to eat. "I already promised. I'll behave." She meets the woman's eyes.
"And I shall take that on good faith." She nods towards the skinny girl, who comes up and unlocks the cuffs.
"There now. Much better. We can behaved like civilized people. My name is Trixie LaBelle. I'm quite pleased to meet you, Jamie." She puts her hand out.
Jamie eyes her a moment longer, but takes the olive branch, shaking the woman's hand. "What am I doing here?"
"I will explain. But first, please, sit, take whatever you'd like here. You must be starving." Unsure if she could possibly resist for too long, anyway, and realizing it will do her no good if she does, Jamie gives in and reaches for one of the fine cuts of meat on the plate nearest her, tearing into it with a wild and almost animal abandon. Trixie moves the other serving dishes full of food so there are more readily within reaching distance and waits patiently for some time to ensure Jamie eats enough. At length she keeps talking, unperturbed by Jamie's lack of table manners. "Now, as for what you are doing here. You see, I'm part of an organization whose list of specialties includes fixing things. You wouldn't have heard of us before, we try to be discreet and our clients are rather high profile speaking in general, but this time there's been a development of a somewhat more delicate nature."
"Can yah cut to the chase, lady?" Jamie grumbles.
"Kelly Montgomery. D'you know him?"
The bite of rare steak she'd just stabbed with her fork hovers in mid-air a moment, only halfway to her mouth.
"He's in the hospital. Was in the ICU for some time, in point of fact. He tried to contact you, I believe, but it appears you've been rather busy elsewhere."
The fork drops back down onto the plate without ceremony. Jamie gives Trixie a hard stare. "Yeah. I know 'im. Is he..."
"Expected to make a full recovery, darling, not to worry. It's how he arrived in his current predicament that concerns him, and now you as well." Trixie sets a file down on the table next to Jamie's plate. "You see, he was looking for you. By a stroke of rather abysmal luck he just happened to be in the wrong place, at the very wrong time while he was at it."
"Looking for me...?"
"Yes. Now, none of that is our concern, naturally. His injuries were sustained in a fire at a small diner which, I'm to understand, was owned by your mother."
"What?" Jamie's stomach turns, abruptly threatening to reject it's fresh contents.
"It's gone, I'm afraid. Burned to rubble." Trixie opens the file, showing Jamie pictures, documentation. "The local police have written it off as grease spilled in the kitchens, a train reaction. A simple though tragic accident. But your friend was there as it was happening, and claims to have seen the one who started the fire. Ironically, the man claimed to have been there inspecting the buildings fire extinguishers. He's now dead, and young Mr. Montgomery claims the extinguishers the man had been inspecting later proved to all be empty."
"It was arson." Jamie says for her.
"Precisely. Now Mr. Montgomery has just recently hit his eighteenth birthday and is now allowed a fair amount of access to his families evidently bottomless well of funds. He is so firm in his knowledge of what actually happened that he has hired me to fix it, whatever that may end up meaning. And I believe, with your help, we can do so."
"My help?" Jamie's just confused now. "Why my help?"
"Because you see, we're already fairly certain of who orchestrated the crime. She's had her hand in many previous dealings of a shadier nature, but we have never managed to catch her. With your help, however, we may be able to this time." Trixie pauses a moment, hesitating. "It's your grandmother. Carol Elizabeth Fletcher."
Carol Elizabeth Fletcher. Grandmother. Grand - oh hell no, she didn't.
Jamie's fists clench. "I suppose Kelly wasn't the only one hurt?"
"On the contrary. He was quite fortunate. Four lost their lives, including a child no older than three."
Jamie's fist hits the table hard enough that the plates, platters, and silverware it's laden with rattle. "That miserable old gargoyle! She just couldn't leave things alone."
"She is a nasty one. It would be a pleasure to many of my colleagues and myself if we could put her behind bars, but that may never be possible." Just the barest hint of true frustration makes itself known in the woman's voice. "We cannot touch her. Legally, no one can. She's got quite the team of lawyers, as I'm sure you well know. However, our job isn't necessarily to do things legally. It's to see to it that things are fixed, whatever that entails. My job from here is only to hand you the tools needed to do so. All of which are in this file. Bring us evidence of her cooperation, whatever that may mean, and we'll compensate you suitably. Though, I get the impression you may enjoy this."
"I will." Jamie scowls. "But you can keep your money, lady. My friends out there about to piss her pants she's so scared, all I want is for you jerk-offs to take us home and leave me be."
An approving smirk graces Trixie's lips. "Oh, you are a feisty one, aren't you? Such attitude, and I'm told you fight like a wild animal. Forgive me, my dear, but what you ask isn't possible. My superiors have had an eye on you for some time and see no point in holding back any longer. We'll speak again. You have until two weeks from now to accomplish your new task." She produces a business card from inside her jacket and places it inside the file. "My card. Should you read through the information already provided and feel you may need something more, I'll do my best to oblige you upon being informed. You and your friend will be returned promptly. Until next time, Ms. Fletcher."
The skinny girl reappears.
"Hannah, please, take Ms. Fletcher out to the car and have her returned home. And do be more respectful this time. We'll discuss your payment when you return."
"Yes Ma'am. C'mon." Hannah takes Jamie's arm, but gently. "Now yah know what's goin' on Ah got no reason to use the tranqs on yah, so we won't use 'em, Ah promise. My brother's're all dumber than a sack of hammers, but they listen well 'nough, they won't touch yah neither. Let's just get yah home."
...
She's led back out of the house and to the front yard where Tash is now waiting as well, looking nervous and jumpy.
"Jamie? What's going on, no one will tell me anything. Where've you been? Do you know what they're going to do with us now? I can sense you, you're angry, why are you angry, did somethin-"
Jamie can't think fast enough to answer. Positioned a bit behind Tash now, Hannah clears her throat softly and holds up the same gun she'd used on Jamie the day before, a question in her eyes. Jamie nods. Hannah gestures to one of her brothers, who puts himself in position and catches Tash with ease as the dart hits her and she sags, sound asleep a minute later.
"Sorry about yahr friend here." Hannah says, gesturing for her brother to put Tash in the car. "She weren't the target, wasn't tryin' to take her too, but then she come at us like a bat outta hell. Didn't give us no choice."
Jamie gets into the car next to Tash and removes her own coat to ball it up and place it between the other girls head and the window it's leaned against. "Those your kids in there?"
Silence for a moment. Hannah's much quieter and more subdued when she answers. "Yeah. They's mine."
"S'ppose that's why you take jobs from her majesty in there."
"Yeah. That n' keep'n the farm goin'."
"Every wonder what happens to the other poor, unsuspecting bastards yah take just to hand over to her?"
"Ah try not ta. S'the way the world goes 'round, honey. If we said no somebody else'd do the dirty work for 'er, an' Ah done met some of these others she got workin' for her a couple of times. They's a sick bunch. Better we do it than them."
"If you say so, sister."
They're not in New York. It's not much a shock to find this out judging by Hannah's accent, though they can't be too many states away. They're taken out to another field with a landing strip and loaded onto a small private jet. A relatively short jet ride, another car trip, another tranquilizer given to Tash, and they're finally settled back in Jamie's truck ready to go home.
The file rests on the seat next to her, thick and foreboding. But best not to think about it right this minute.
...
"Oh my -"
"Are you alright?"
"What did they give her? Can you tell me your name, dear?"
"Where did they take you? Do you remember -"
They flock to Tash as Jamie helps her stumble out of the truck. She's bustled down to the medlab, examined. Dr. McCoy draws some blood. Examines her further. Ororo Munroe cooks her dinner and gives her an unoccupied room in the teachers wing to rest up away from prying eyes and running mouths.
Jamie, though...well. She doesn't need medical attention. She supposes no one should be worried about her, anyway. She retreats quietly to the girls dorm, which is thankfully deserted as classes are in session.
Her mother finds her there and checks her over and asks, quiet and calm, what had just happened. Jamie explains, though she leaves some details out, she needs to process first.
Her mother looks less concerned, more just weary. "Well, you seem to be alright. This woman didn't tell you anymore than that? You're sure?"
"I'm sure." She'd left out all the important bits, including the file which is now hidden away in her truck. Something tells her there'll be things in there her mother doesn't need to see. "She seemed..upset. With, uhm, with the ones who took us. Said we weren't who they were supposed to be after, I don't know. Really, Ma, I don't."
"It's just awful strange, is all."
"Y'know, we been back since this morning and not once has anyone bothered to ask how I'm actually doin'."
"Tash was in more obvious distress."
"I'm startin' to think there's more to it than that."
Her mother heaves a sigh. "Here's the thing, Jamie..something's happened."
Jamie huffs. "Ah, something more important that your daughters mental state after being kidnapped?"
Her mother scowls. "Well you certainly sound like your doing just fine. Hush and listen. Kelly Montgomery is in the hospital."
Jamie, of course, is not surprised by this news.
Her mother goes on. "He's going to be alright. But the reason he's in there... Jamie. The diner...it's gone...and you don't look too surprised. Why aren't you surprised? What is the matter with you?"
Annoyance wells up, abrupt and slightly irrational. "Jesus, Ma," Jamie barks, harsh, "what the hell do you want from me? They kidnapped us. One of them damn near tore my arm off, popped my shoulder right outta socket, and that one hurt, if anyone f-ing cares, not that it seems they do. They drugged us both and tossed us in a metal cage for hours and I thought shit was really about to hit the fan and I still ain't completely sure it just didn't! Were you even worried? You don't seem to care what even happens to me anymore!"
"That's not true at all and you know it!" Her mother fires back, vehement. "I love you to death but -"
"But what Ma?"
"But you scare the hell out of me, Carol James!"
Silence. Jamie has no answer to that.
Her mother plows on. "I saw something in you years ago, when your step-father...when all of that went down. I saw something in you that I'd started catching glimpses of before, but I denied it even then, I didn't want to acknowledge it because it's the same thing I saw in Logan. Something wild and dangerous and angry and I wanted to think I could teach you to be better. But I failed somehow. I understand that now. You are just like him. And that is far more frightening than you even know."
Jamie's stomach turns, threatening to try and put back it's nonexistent contents. She kinda knew that was coming, but the realization hits her like a freight train. Joan Fletcher doesn't hate Jamie. She's frightened of her. And that..that is some how far worse. Jamie closes her eyes and blows out a breath and nods slow. "Okay. So the diner's gone. What are we doin' about that."
Silence again. A tear slides down Joan's cheek. "I don't...I don't know. I don't know what to do about anything anymore."
"I..say..we head home. For a little while." Jamie suggests. "See if we can sort some stuff out."
"And take you outta school?"
"It'd be nice to see my friends up there, and Kelly. It's possible he was at the diner lookin' for me. I hadn't called him a long time and he knows what kinda crowd I was runnin' with. Might be kinda my fault he's in the hospital now."
"I don't know..."
"Well, why not, anyway? There's some stuff at the house I'd like to grab, too."
"Jamie...the house is...the house is gone." Her mother's voice breaks.
Jamie's heart skips a beat. "What?"
"It's gone. Burnt up. Probably Victor's doing, the body of that poor woman was also nowhere to be found. We don't have a home up there anymore."
Wild Thing roars internally and races to the surface. She gets to her feet and begins pacing, the movement abrupt enough to startle her mother.
"I'm sorry." The older woman stutters some, and then goes on rapidly, almost frantic. "I was going to tell you eventually I just wanted you to get settled in here first Jamie please calm down I know that look on your face there's nothing -"
"Is Logan here?" Wild Thing cuts the old woman off, short.
"Logan? Well, yes, he just got back, but...?"
"We're going to see grandma and grandpa."
"Jamie! Watch your tone, I am still your mother!"
"Please?" Wild Thing adds, contrite as she can manage.
"Well, I suppose, if I phone your grandfather, he'd probably be more than happy to get us plane tickets, but what are you think-"
"Call grandpa then. Don't you wanna go see what the damage is?"
"Well..I suppose...now wait a moment, where are you going?"
Wild Thing ignores her as she stalks off out of the room. She's beyond anger now. This is personal. And there's only one other person who'll fully understand why.
...
"Would you know how to find Victor?"
Logan scowls as his eyes land on her. He plucks the cigar from between his lips and huffs. "Hello to you to, kid."
Wild Thing stalks across the grass to him. "Would you?"
"How the hell would I know where he is?"
"I didn't ask if yah knew, I asked if yah could help me find him."
"Well, what for?"
Wild Thing half snarls. "He destroyed my den, that's what for!"
His eyes flush with gold as the cigar slips from between his fingers. "He did what?"
...
"Logan, this is ridiculous." Joan insists, watching fretfully as he packs a bag. "My father's got the whole thing handled. He had that cabin built himself years ago, he's still got the floor plans, we'll rebuild it just the way it was, it'll just take time."
"That ain't the point, Joanie." He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the rooms only small mirror; his eyes are flushed heavy with gold and that alone is probably enough to set her on edge, but he can't be worried about that now. "He didn't just bust a few windows, he destroyed the only real den Jamie's ever had, I can't forgive that."
"Den? Logan, what are you talking about?" Joan asks, simply bewildered now.
He huffs as he zips up his bag and throws it over his shoulder. "A den, Joanie. Somewhere to nest and feel safe, it's important for a kitling, more than just a place to sleep. I ain't lettin' this one go. I'm comin' back with his head on a platter this time, I mean it. Take the kit up to see your parents, I told 'er not to go off lookin' for Vic on her own cause I'm gonna take care of it. She agreed to trust me but it'll be hard on 'er." He presses a kiss to her temple and stalks off out of the room. His best place to start is probably Canada, right around where Joan and the kit had lived. There'll likely be a trail to find starting there. He just hopes the kit won't catch onto that herself and get any smart ideas.
.
When he gets down to the garage Rogue is there leaning against his truck, arms crossed, a bag slung over her shoulder. So the kit had talked to her too.
"No." He says, not even needing to ask to know what's in her head.
"Yah ain't the boss o' meh." She fires back, haughty. "And yah gonna need someone to watch yah back."
She's not wrong, per se, and she's got a little feral in her after absorbing him so many times, so she probably understands the situation better than he even knows. "Fine. Get in."
.
Joan makes one phone call to her father, just the one, and by the time the evening is out he's sent a private jet down to grab them and has already given her all the information she needs about it. She packs a bag with what little she has, as does Jamie, and they're on the road by midnight.
Jamie barely says a word the whole time. Joan decides it's probably for the best.
...
The plane ride isn't too long, but it is long enough that her mother falls asleep, leaving Jamie time enough to study the file some. She isn't surprised by most of what she finds in there; she already knew her grandmother to be a ruthless old gargoyle. Most of her offenses are related to business practices, some even as petty as threats and intimidation of the competition, but nothing hardcore proveable.
Jamie wonders what the deal is with the diner, though. Why would her grandmother choose to tear that down? There could be many reasons, honestly, but the most likely is that she'd come to hate the place once she realized how well it was prospering. It had become too reliable a source of income for Joan and Jamie; Carol Elizabeth Fletcher's main source of control for anyone around her was money, and the diner made that obsolete. As long as it was still in business, Joan could afford to simply, for the most part, ignore what her mother wanted.
The file contains no legal evidence that could connect Carol Elizabeth to the fire. Really, there probably is nothing like that to connect her to the fire. She'd have been too thorough to leave a loose end. The file does contain something else, though. Something...oh. A wicked little smirk graces Jamie's lips. Oh, that's beautiful. She knows just what to do with it, too. She sets it aside neatly for later use.
A small alarm blares as the plane is jostled about some. Jamie checks her mother as the pilot instructs via intercom that seatbelts should be buckled; the older woman had never taken hers off, having intended from the start to sleep through the flight. The turbulence isn't enough to wake her, the woman sleeps like a log. Jamie buckles herself in and reaches for the file again. Having already found what she needed, she doesn't feel as though she needs to keep searching through it, and reaches out to tuck it back in her bag on the seat across from her.
The plane shakes again, a little more violently. Caught a touch of guard, she loses some of her grip on the folder, and a stack of papers she'd missed at the very back falls out and to the floor.
Brows furrowing as she glimpses the pictures on top, she sets the folder aside and picks the errant papers up. The pictures...
Jamie and Tierney Doran, hanging out in front of the small house Tierny rented for the longest time. Jamie and Hunter, in a park, playing basketball. Jamie... Jamie at the Warehouse. In a cage, fighting. Jamie sitting with Tierney on one side of her and Hunter's brother on the other, around a bonfire at someones house, beers in hand while T hands Jamie a cigarette.
What the hell, what the hell, what the hell...? Jamie grows more disturbed the further she looks.
Jamie with just Hunter again, both with a mischievous look in their eyes, clearly up to no good as they approach an expensive car. Jamie sending Hunter a triumphant smirk when the car proves to be unlocked. Hunter showing her how to hot wire the thing.
What the hell, what the hell, what the...? She remembers that. Like it was yesterday, though it was about a year ago, just after they'd found her step-father's car and she'd broken up with Kelly. The whole thing had been a petty revenge plot born of a self-destructive need for distraction; some other rich girl at school had insulted her and Jamie had remembered that the other girl was so naively confident no one would dare mess with her car that she never locked the thing. She and Hunter had gone for a joy ride in it and gotten caught but...
Oh God. Just behind the pictures, at the top of the stack of papers beneath, is a police report citing her and Hunter as unquestionably being the delinquents behind it. Jamie had bribed the hell out of the cop with her fight money (technically dirty money, to boot, as the Warehouse is an 'underground' ring), a move she now felt somewhat remorseful over. Her mom was friends with the cop's wife. Their kid was seriously sick, which is why she knew he'd need the money. It was a nasty move to pull, but Jamie and Hunter hadn't actually hurt or even really bothered anybody with their little stunt save for the bitchy princess who owned the car, and the cop got a sizable stack of bills to put towards his kids hospital expenses. So there was no real harm done.
The report he'd actually submitted had, as she understood it, declared the car to be abandoned by the side of the road. It had been untampered with save for the hot wiring, and was sporting not a scratch, two facts which he likely emphasized to drive home the point of there being no sense in pursuing the case further. The report she's holding now is clearly the original, one he likely wrote whilst still unsure of whether he would keep the bribe, and there's a note on the back written neatly in cursive bearing the amount of money she'd handed over to the cop and a simple 'We Know You, Ms. Fletcher'.
And it doesn't end there. There's more pictures and reports written on her by some spy or other, most all of it being records of her engaging in the sort of activities that highlight just how not innocent she really is.
How? How how how? How could she have not seen or heard or picked up any kind of sign that someone was watching her like this? It seems impossible, it seems, it's...it's totally plausible. She'd had no idea. No reason to think she'd have caught the interest of anyone that important, the police never found any real connection between her and the death of her step-father. Why would she have even begun to guess at some kind of secretive, nefarious shadow-agency taking an interest in her? This is insane.
This is...
But then, she'd brought it on herself. She'd been stupid, hadn't she? So, so stupid. A girl like her? Stocky but barely five feet tall all the same. A girl like her jumping in the cages like that and giving men twice her size a total beat down and barely breaking a sweat while she was at it? Of course she'd attracted some attention. It was inevitable.
God, she feels as though she may throw up.
The pilot's voice comes over the intercom again. They'll be landing soon. Jamie tucks all the files away back into her back, zipping it up and trying to take deep, calming breaths. Nows not the time for an 'oh, shit' moment. Right now she needs to think with her head.
Her head brings her to only one sensible conclusion. She knows who could give her some advice, at the very least.
Joan stirs awake of her own accord as the pilot sends them out one last reminder of some safety related things. "Jamie?"
"Right here, Ma. Did..did you sleep well?"
"Yes, I slept alright. You seem wide awake, didn't you try to nap?"
Jamie can barely control the nervous trembling of her hands. Her voice wavers. "Oh, yeah, yeah, I tried, I just...got too much on my mind, I guess."
"Breathe, sweetheart. We're going to get this all sorted out, I promise."
Jamie remembers her original mission here. Better to try and handle one thing at a time, right? She takes in a deep breath and lets it out slow. Just..one little thing at a time. "I know, Ma. I'm ok. I promise."
Her mother leaves it alone from there. The plane lands at a small airport this time, it takes them a while to get things sorted.
"Oh that's odd, your grandfather promised the car would already be here to pick us up but I'm sure I don't..." Her mother looks around, bewildered and frustrated. The family's Rolls Royce is no where to be seen.
Jamie seizes the opportunity. "Hey Ma, is it alright if I go make a phone call? I..uhm..just wanna check on Tash, someone should be awake back at the school by now."
"Oh, sure, of course dear." Joan answers, absent minded.
Jamie wanders off, gathers her thoughts a moment, and pulls up the number on her phone.
It rings. Once. Twice. Three time... "Fletch?" The voice on the other end sounds shocked. "Jamie? Jamie, hello? Are you there?"
"Yeah." Jamie has to force the words out. "Yeah, T. It's me. And I'm..I think I may be in trouble again."
Silence for a beat. A sigh. "When aren't you, short stuff? Alright. Tell me what's up now."
Jamie gives a nervous chuckle. "Well. Ah." She stares down at the folder she'd just taken out of bag, studying the symbol on it's cover a bit. "You ever heard of a symbol with a snake eatin' it's own tail?"
