This chapter was honestly the most difficult chapter I have ever had to write. I'm still not completely happy with it. The ending changed about ten different times, and most of what I did write will probably be in future chapters. But still I'm...sort of happy. You'll have to tell me what you think.

Thank you all that reviewed last time, and those that helped me how with the question of how old Leon actually is. I'm going to go back over the previous chapters to tweak the ages here and there. I like being accurate with these things.

Disclaimer: Not Mine

Chapter 5: Conversations and Unwanted Memories

"Late?"

His voice rung out in the silence of the cell. She was still turned away from him.

"I expected you yesterday," he placed the picture down, moving slowly round her, and leaving a wide area between them, "And then when you didn't appear, I thought then, perhaps, this morning," she wasn't looking at him, "Once again, you have exceeded my expectations. Almost five in the afternoon and you are only here because you were ordered to. I believe that if you had the power of free will then I would still be waiting. And mostly likely waiting for a very long time,"

She finally looked at him, and for the first time in ten years, he looked into the face of Marie Howard. She hadn't changed, but then why would she? Forever stuck as twenty five. Perhaps she looked a little gaunt due to the lack of natural sunlight and decent food, but essentially it seemed to Leon that he had never been away. She still had the unruly black hair that never could quite decide between curls and waves. She still had the green eyes that always seemed to be half open, giving her the look that she was half asleep.

"You've cut your hair," the words sounded ridiculous as he said them and he swallowed slightly. He sat in the other seat across from her, seeing that her hands were handcuffed to the table, preventing her from moving around the cell, "Extra security measures?" he inquired.

"They seem to think that I am going to attack you," Marie Howard replied airily, shifting in her seat, the metal handcuffs squeaking with the movement, "Completely unnecessary of course. Why would I attack you when I was the one to bring you here..."

"I was ordered here," he was quick to correct her.

"It's the same difference," she shrugged, "Do you think that Gabrelli would have ordered you here just because a few people died? Of course not. That's why I had to make it...personal, tailored specifically to you. Therefore, it serves Gabrelli's interest for you to be here because he thinks you are to be the one to get information from me. It serves my interest because I get you here. And it serves the guard's interests because they've wanted me to talk for a very long time," she smirked coldly, "How does it feel to be blown back and forth, Leon? I imagine it can be quite frustrating,"

"You are not my psychiatrist," his voice was cold, "Don't try to get inside my head," she merely leaned back in her chair, her chin raised in defiance to him. It hardly seemed like it had been ten years since he had been the one interrogating her. She had been wearing the same expression on her face then, "Why am I here?"

"To talk, it's been a long time," he could feel her eyes moving across his face, "Truth be told, I had been hoping that you would come and visit in your own time, not just as business," he held her gaze, not allowing her any inch to gain the advantage over him, "I am quite ashamed to lower myself down to this level,"

"Which level? The one where you had two people killed?" He inquired bitingly, "Tell me honestly, Marie, why do you think that I would ever come and visit you willingly?"

"If you don't know the answer to that, Leon, then this conversation will get us nowhere," she answered and silence fell over them. He couldn't quite bring himself to look away from her. Why was he here? He could have put a greater argument against Gabrelli, citing a number of different reasons why he should not even be on this case, let alone sitting across from the one person that had been always able to see right through him, "I hear you got married again,"

"Divorced," he only just managed to say the word.

A laugh pealed out of her mouth, slightly raspy from lack of use, "How long did this one last?" She mocked him slightly, "Tell me, how long was it before you noticed that she was gone?" He didn't say anything, and a flash of sympathy passed over her face, "You're not a cruel man, Leon; you're just married to your job. You always try to fit with their expectations, to do the right thing, but in the end it doesn't work out, you fail to keep the charade up. So you end up alone, like me," Leon didn't react, but hating that she was as good at reading him as she had been ten years ago.

"Why did you want to know?" He asked her, folding his arms across his chest, having them act like a barrier.

"They like mentioning it," he blinked, at her slightly disgusted words, "The psychiatrists. They somehow seem to think that I will react to any information about you. Maybe I do, but they shouldn't keep trying to bait me. It might upset my feelings," Her personality hadn't changed, going from childlike to serious in a matter of seconds. He'd always been of the opinion that she was mentally unstable. Marie continued, "It is good to see you again. You left so quickly last time," he hadn't realised that she had seen him eight years ago, "Do you like my new cage?"

"It suits you," he snapped, and the smile was immediately replaced with an expressionless look, dull and bored. He had placed her on the defensive and for an explicable second, he felt a wave of guilt. He shoved it aside for another question, "Ten years is a long time to wait to get me here. Why such a long time if all you wanted to do was to catch up with me. You could always make another phone call,"

She didn't react to that bait, "Ten years?" She frowned slightly, "You know, I hadn't realised that it had been so long. Time doesn't work in here," she gestured for him to look at his arm. The numbers were flickering; time wasn't counting down, "Stasis lock. I'm here to serve out my entire sentence before I'm officially timed out or pardoned, depending on what they decide. I'm leaning towards the former," She swallowed, grimacing, "But to answer your question, why shouldn't I ask you to come now? Truth be told I also want to play a game, and I have the time in which to do that," she looked over to the picture that he had picked up, sighing lightly, "Do you remember that day?"

"Yes," he replied tersely. He did not want to go there, but couldn't help but ask, "Why do you have that picture in here?"

"The guards let me have it," she shrugged, "Sentimental reasons, it was the best day of my life," she said, "Everyone was so happy. Well," she shot him a look, "Nearly everyone was happy. You didn't look so happy, as I recall. Had there been something on your mind?" He remained silent, and Marie finally looked away, "I loved her,"

He barked out a laugh, cold and unmerciful. She didn't flinch at the sound of it, "Love?" He questioned, "You can't love. What you did wasn't love. You're a psychopath, Marie. I doubt anything can touch that frozen heart of yours,"

"I beg to correct that statement," she whispered slightly, and for a second he saw the person behind the mask that she wore. Someone who looked rather saddened by his comment. But in a flash, the mask replaced it, so fast that he would have thought that that what he had seen was merely his imagination "Psychopaths don't know the difference between right and wrong. I'm afraid I did know the consequences of what would happen, and I still do. I just chose to ignore them," Marie leant forward as far as the chains would allow her, "Everyone needs something that goes bump in the night. You should know that,"

"You consider what you did a public service?" He asked, "You tortured and killed thirteen women,"

"No..." She shook her head, "No...You let me torture and kill thirteen women," Leon stared at her, unwilling to reply, "You knew it was me, how could you not?" She smiled triumphantly, "And yet you did nothing. You allowed people to die, that's harsh, and ever so..." she bit her bottom lip, "Sweet,"

"I didn't have the evidence..."

"You didn't have the evidence when you arrested me either but it didn't stop you then," she searched his face, almost frantically, "It's all right, you know, it's a human reaction. You didn't know what would happen, you trusted me to do the right thing, and of course, in the end, revenge is truly a great motivator. I nearly made you snap," she leant back, "You see, I know I'm a sick and twisted individual, and society is safer to have me in here, behind bars, but it doesn't change the fact that you are also as equally involved by not doing anything to stop me,"

Something had changed. The atmosphere seemed to be charged with tension though neither of the occupants were angry. Leon wasn't sure what to make of it. She was as confusing as ever and he was beginning to have more questions than at the start of this conversation. They had slipped through so many subjects, never really focussing on one,. He looked at the clock hanging on the wall to see how long he had been there only to find that it had been stopped. 12:34. He dreaded to know what the significance was.

"How did you manage to get the broadcast out of the prison?" he said and Marie let out a long sigh, unwilling to answer the question, "Who have you got killing people? What is the point of it all? What was the point of any of it? Even at the beginning,"

She brightened at the sound of the latest murders, "Tell me, how did my baby bird do?" She asked, confirming that they were connected to her, "I did wonder how well they'd follow my instructions to the letter. They are such a good baby bird after all but I have told that I'm a hard example to follow,"

"They lack your...sadism," he informed her, knowing that at this point all the rules that he had been told had been shot to hell, "The torture was conducted post mortem," she didn't react, and he realised that she had already known. How had she gotten her information? There was no way into the prison to smuggle any letters, "They also are moving quicker than you. I doubt they're as careful,"

"No I suppose not," she mused lightly, tilting her head back and forth, "But you know, they are just a little baby bird attempting to fly without Mummy bird watching over them. Baby bird has to fly sometime," she cocked her head, looking at him with a smile, "Did you really think it was just a coincidence? At the beginning? The fact that there was the petal, the numbers..."

"How long is your sentence?" He inquired, deliberately trying to provoke her, "A thousand years?"

"I just have nine hundred and ninety years to go," she replied dryly, the humour draining out of her, "No chance of parole. I'm stuck in here forever unless other circumstances arise," she smiled softly, "How are they all doing without me?" He didn't know whether they were talking about her victims' families or the Timekeepers, "I do miss them ever so much," he stood up, walking past her, finally giving up with asking her anything, "You won't find my baby bird, you know," he stopped, "Not unless you have my help," she smiled, "Tell me, did she have blonde hair?"

She was talking about his ex-wife again, "No, she had black hair," he answered, and he watched as Marie burst into peals of laughter. The action made her face suddenly come to life and she shot him a look to tell him that she knew the significance of his answer.

He placed his hands down on the table, looking at her closely, trying to detect a single sign of remorse or even a flicker of self satisfaction. All he got was the cold hard truth, something that he didn't particularly want, "Do you dream much, Ray?" she asked him, when she had stopped laughing.

He fought the urge to recoil. This conversation was suddenly veering into dangerous waters, "Sometimes,"

"I often wonder what it would be like to dream," she murmured, her tone slightly wistful, and her eyes unfocussed, "I do see them though, remember how it was like to..." he moved away, pressing the button on the side of the door, "You have twenty four hours to start at the very beginning and find what links the two women together. There's a reason in everything. If you don't succeed then my baby bird kills another. Because Ray..." she turned around in the chair to look at him in the eye, "Everything that happens from now on is down to your actions. Tick tock, goes the clock, we laughed at time and mourned her. Tick tock, goes the clock...even for the keepers," she dissolved into laughter again as the door slid shut behind him, and he was determined that he should never return.

It was a pity then that Leon wasn't there to hear the laughter turn into tears of sadness.

Marie's hard to write. On one hand you need her to be at least sane enough to have an intellectual conversation, but on the other, you've got to recognise that she's been in solitary confinement for ten years with mainly only guards and a psychiatrist to talk to. It'll be enough to drive anyone insane. And she wasn't exactly sane to begin with. So it's hard trying to find that balance.

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