A/N: I am amazed. I love the reviews I have, and the popularity of it in terms of visitors. This is just a thank you to the readers and reviewers of this fanfic, because you all rock for even taking the time to read this--or review in some cases. So now I'm making up for something--you've probably heard of it--something called lost time. Once I get out the next part, I will be all caught up in time for Friday's new episode, which promises to be KICK-ASS! And I can focus back on Helpless Indulgence, because I have yet to type any of my ideas. Yeah...and I think this month long break from GftD has cleared my head, so I'm totally prepared for what TDA has to dish out for me (when you've watched Dollhouse for a month, you get used to surprises). So be prepared, it's chapter 12 coming at you. Reviews are appreciated, and disclaimer is in the first chapter.
"Come on, pick up Geoff!" Gwen was on her cell phone at 3 in the morning, and she couldn't sleep, or wouldn't let herself sleep. After she found DJ unconscious in his hotel room, and Courtney's recent appearance, she felt Geoff had a right to know, regardless of the time.
In his small home, Geoff woke up to the ringing of his home phone, and he reluctantly answered it. "Hello?" Geoff slurred.
"Geoff, its Gwen. DJ was knocked out by someone, and he's resting now, but that's not the start of our problems."
"Gwen, what is it? It's…three in the morning."
"I saw Courtney." Geoff was immediately out of his drowsy state.
"Courtney? Where?"
"She's not here anymore. She was planning something major, a heist at the Franklin Hotel. I think she succeeded, but I don't know where she could be now. Geoff, she wasn't acting herself. She was dressed…promiscuously, and was with three other guys. Something is wrong here, and I want to know everything about what I'm getting myself into."
"I already told you everything I know. DJ might know something more. I mean, he is an FBI agent. I'm just the lieutenant of the LAPD."
"You're absolutely sure that you're not hiding anything from me?"
"Well, DJ was shot by someone—it's why he was at the hospital."
"And you didn't tell me this why?"
"I was…going to get around to it. Wait, you said the Franklin Hotel?"
"Yeah, why?"
"There's a safe down there that stores art, STOLEN art. It's a police secret, not meant to be known by the public. But there are chances of leaks. That's probably why Courtney was there, whatever you said about a heist. They were probably going to steal a piece of art. Not so sure what though…"
"Okay, it doesn't matter. She's gone, and I don't know where the fuck she could be."
"Just ask DJ in the morning. Like I said, he knows something." Geoff yawned. "He always knows something. Just like that time in TD…" Geoff hung up, placed the phone back in the receiver and fell onto his pillow into a deep sleep.
"Geoff? GEOFF?! FUCK!" Gwen hung up and paced about her hotel room once more.
"Izzy's scared." Izzy only referred to herself in third person now if she was scared, and in this case, she was. Ever since she and Owen decided to help Geoff and everyone else in finding Courtney, and with the recent disappearance of Trent, Izzy was getting scared that she—or Owen—could be next. For now, they were getting ready for the day ahead.
"Izzy, don't worry. You have fighting skills. If anyone tries to kidnap you, you can fight them off. Or Owen will be there to save you!" Owen stuck out his chest heroically. Izzy let out a high pitch giggle and gave him a big bear hug.
"My hero!" The phone rang, and Izzy went to pick it up. "Daniels and Green Private Detective Services, Izzy Daniels speaking."
"Hey Izzy, its Geoff."
"What is it? Any progress on the case?"
"Well, Gwen and DJ spotted Courtney at the Franklin Hotel, but—wait, let me finish—she was supposedly planning a heist with three other guys, an art heist to be specific, and she's gone. We don't know where Courtney is now, but I think it might lead us to Trent and Bridgette. But that heist…something went wrong. I'm at the hotel, by the way, and there's one dead body with a syringe stuck in his neck."
"Really? Who would do that to a person?"
"It's not being investigated—for now. But I'm here with Sadie, and she's taking the body to the morgue. She'll probably find something. The security guards said they found three people when the safe opened: two guys, one slumped against a crate with a stomach, another one, who we presume is the dead one, and a woman with mocha skin and long brown hair. Sound familiar?"
"Courtney."
"I'm going to check if there are any recent hospital admissions concerning a guy with a stomach wound."
"There are probably tons of guys out there with that."
"Yeah, but I'll visit each one if I have to, because he might know where Courtney is."
"Hey, what if Owen and I bring Duncan along? That way, if we meet the guy and he doesn't talk, Duncan can force an answer out of them through telling them he's her boyfriend."
"Smart as ever Izzy."
"Hey wait, you said three guys were with Courtney right?"
"Yeah."
"Where's the third?"
"We don't know. I know Gwen wasn't lying, but it could be that the third guy was hiding and escaped with Courtney and the wounded guy. Which reminds me, I need to check the hotel records. If Gwen said they were in the lobby, they probably had their own room."
"You should do that first. Owen, Duncan, and I will go check the hospital records. Just send me a list of hospitals to check via text message or email."
"Fine, fine, it's being sent to you…now."
"Thanks a ton Geoff. Bye." After Izzy hung up, a pinging noise filled the room. Izzy had gotten the email with a list of hospitals to check. Thankfully, there were only two. "Come on Owen, we have to pick up Duncan."
"Duncan?"
"I'll tell you in the car."
Duncan was already dressed for the day. He would've liked to have slept in, but his biological clock prevented him from doing so. His time in Juvie made sure that he would always stick to a strict sleeping schedule for the rest of his life. He was drinking some Foldgers black coffee when there was a knocking on the door.
"Duncan! Open up!" Owen called out to him. Duncan recognized who it was and opened the door to see Izzy and Owen standing in front of him.
"Yeah?"
"Duncan, dude, we saw Courtney."
"Where is she?" Owen looked down. "WHERE IS SHE?!"
"Duncan, she disappeared. Gwen saw her, not us, but…something happened that you need to know. And you're coming with us. We have a few things to do for Geoff, and we want you to come. So let's go. You're ready, right?" Izzy spoke for Owen, praying Duncan wouldn't attempt to break something, whether it be furniture or a bone or two.
"Yeah, whatever." All Duncan did was put on some worn out Converse before he wordlessly closed his apartment door and followed Izzy and Owen.
"Hey Noah." Sadie greeted him. Noah had just arrived to the art vault. He had been stuck in traffic, but he managed to arrive. "There's not much here, but there is a lot of art if you're interested."
"I'll keep that in mind. I don't think I'm supposed to be collecting anything."
"You're not, you're just…you have an eye for things. If something's off, you know. So you're here just to make sure nothing's off." Noah looked around the vault.
"As far as I can tell, this looks like a heist completed. But—what's this?" Noah looked down to see a sword—with a bloody tip. "Sadie, I found a sword with some blood on the tip of it. Maybe a heist gone wrong?"
"Maybe. But maybe we should bring it back to the lab for Trace."
"I can't do that. This is art. I'd have to get a warrant to even touch this stuff, let alone use chemicals on it." Sadie walked to him and looked down at the sword. She then took out a Q-tip from her pocket and dropped it on the bloody tip of the sword.
"Whoops! Guess you'll have to trash it now." Sadie smiled and left Noah to take the body back to the morgue.
Damn it Sadie. Might as well use the…evidence. Noah thought to himself as he picked up the Q-tip and put it in one of the special boxes that he carried around. He took one last look around the vault, sighed, and left to test the blood Sadie collected for him.
"We know it's not visiting hours, but we need to see any guys with stomach wounds, possibly caused by something sharp, like a knife." Izzy explained to a young dark haired nurse with tan skin, possibly one who had just gone through medical school.
"Hey, you're Izzy! And Owen! And Duncan! From TD! I loved that show, especially you with your crazy stories and crazy attitude!" The nurse was now talking to Izzy.
"Thank you! I pride myself on being crazy!" Izzy grinned; half loving that someone recognized her and half wishing to force the nurse to take her to anyone with a stomach wound.
"Okay, last night, this cute brunette guy came in with this other passed out cute guy. However, they both looked kinda beat up and the limping one had a puncture wound in his stomach and was losing blood fast from what I heard. The brunette left, and the limping one is in that last room on the left. I didn't catch their full names, but I think I heard that one of them was named Chase and the other was named Brad. I think Brad might be the one inside that room, but it's just instinct. Hope you find what you're looking for."
"Thank you, uh…"
"Julie. But uh…don't tell anyone I told you what I just told you. It's my job on the line."
"Lips are sealed!"
"Thanks!" And Julie left Izzy, Owen, and Duncan in the hallway.
"Well, I can tell our show was pretty popular." Duncan sniffed the air. "That Julie girl isn't my type though. Too peppy. Ugh, and it smells like rubber gloves and antiseptic."
"You heard her, last room on the left. Let's take a look." Owen started walking to the end of the hallway, and Izzy and Duncan followed him. They reached the door, opened it, and went inside to find Brad starring out the window.
"Um…Brad?" Izzy asked him. Brad faced the three reality show has-beens.
"Can I help you?"
"Izzy Daniels, Owen Green. We're private detectives. And this is Duncan Sanders. A close acquaintance."
"Hey there man. You look beat up." Duncan added.
"Taffy said something about a guy named Duncan. And Bridgette. And a show called Total Drama Island." Owen, Izzy, and Duncan were frozen in shock. Brad continued with his hazy rant. "And she kept changing. She was a talking cucumber, and then a bossy chick. And she had another name too. She wanted me to call her…Courtney." Duncan couldn't take it anymore.
"WHERE IS MY GIRLFRIEND?!" He lunged for Brad, but Izzy and Owen held him back.
"DUNCAN! DON'T DO THAT!" Izzy yelled at him, and the couple successfully managed to calm him down.
"Girlfriend? Taffy's single, at least, I thought so, considering that she was okay with Michael hitting on her."
"Who's Michael?" Izzy calmly asked Brad.
"He—oh boy. He's not dead, is he?" Brad sighed. "Don't answer that for me. I might as well come clean; I already know I'm going to jail. So Taffy (or Courtney), Michael, Peter, an art expert, and I were hired to steal a piece of the Parthenon from an art safe underneath the Franklin Hotel. Peter screwed us over and stole the piece of the Parthenon and locked us in the safe—but not before stabbing me. I tried to stop him, but that sword…" Brad winced and touched his wound. "So Taffy called up this other guy and told him to intercept Peter, and then…she turned into a talking cucumber. Said 'Shall I go now?' for a long time. After a while, she turned into Courtney, and it kept switching like that for the rest of the heist. There was also this woman over the phone, I don't know who she was, but she was instructing Taffy on how to get us out of the safe, but it didn't work. It happened so fast…she stabbed him with my syringe, and she got me out of there to Chase, I think that was his name, I don't know. I passed out in his van. And then I woke up here a few hours ago, and I've been staring out of that window for a long time." Brad closed his eyes, leaned against his pillow, and sighed. Izzy and Duncan were speechless.
"Thank you Brad. Izzy, Duncan, come on."
"So what you're telling me is that our dead guy is Michael, who was killed by Courtney (who was acting like herself and a "talking cucumber" at once) and gun shots, Peter betrayed them (whereabouts unknown), and Chase (whoever he is) most likely intercepted him, and Brad is willing to go to jail for his actions?" Geoff was on his cell with Izzy, who was at Café Noir with Owen and Duncan.
"Yeah. Now we have to figure out who this Chase person is. He might know where Courtney is, and that could lead us to Bridgette and Trent. Shouldn't we be worrying about Peter though? He's still out there."
"No. I consider finding Bridge, Court, and Trent more important."
"Friends before career. Rare, but admired."
"Hey, don't lecture me on my career decisions. I know I'm putting my job on the line, but I have to find Bridge, before she's…"
"We'll find her, don't worry. And we'll find everyone and we'll all be happy again."
In Pleasant, Arizona, at Dillard's Auto Service, Jesse Dillard and one of his friends were fixing up a red Ford truck while listening to a rock song in the sweltering Arizona heat, warm for March. However, Jesse stopped working and turned off the radio because he heard the unmistakable sound of a car driving on the dirt road. Who's here in this heat? Pleasant was a small town, so visitors were unusual. However, when Jesse saw the vehicle, a white bus, and heard singing coming from it, he knew who was in that bus and why. He got up from under the red truck, wiped the oil off his hands using a dirty red cloth and left to Elva's Corner Market, where he knew the bus would stop. He saw them, regular people dressed in simple clothes reminiscent of the days of the pioneers, but smiling like idiots, and singing like them too with harmony and everything getting off the bus and into the store. Jesse decided to pick on the leader of today's group, a guy with curly black hair. Jesse made his way into the store after the throng of singers made their way into the shop. The black haired man handed the shopkeeper, Elva Schist, a list of things scribbled onto a lined sheet of paper. Elva went to go get the things on the list. Jesse picked up a conditioner bottle and "accidentally" shoved it to the man.
"Excuse you. Are you going to pick that up?" The man kept singing. "Hey, hey, I'm talking to you. What are you, deaf? Or just tone deaf?"
"Jesse, not in my shop." Elva instructed as he went to load some of the items into a cardboard box, and the man followed Elva to the counter, and Jesse followed the singing man.
"Not in your shop? They wouldn't be in your shop if you'd refuse to serve them."
"Nope."
"You know what they're doing, up in that compound."
"No I don't. Neither do you."
"Or you don't want to know." Jesse picked up a roll of grey duct tape and waved it in front of the singing man's face. "Hey, hey, Osama bin Gandhi, huh, what do you need that for?" Jesse slammed the duct tape onto the counter. "Huh? Or this." He shoved some white rope in front of the singing man. "Hm? Look at me." Jesse had enough. "Look at me when I talk to you!" He shoved the still singing man into the rack of conditioner bottles, sending them toppling to the ground.
"All right, all right, ENOUGH! GET OUT OF MY STORE JESSE!" Elva yelled at Jesse as the sheriff of the town came in and Jesse's friends and the rest of the singers filed out of the shop.
"Trouble?" The sheriff asked Elva.
"Nope. No trouble." Elva tersely responded. Jesse let go of the STILL singing man and watched him pay for the items and walk out of the store, and Jesse followed him and watched the bus peel away from the storefront. Jesse spit to the dirt and went back to the red Ford that needed fixing.
"It's weird. Not so much the singing as it is the smiling. What do you figure that's all about?" The sheriff remarked to Elva.
"Maybe they're just happy Phil."
"Yeah, maybe." Elva turned the shopping list over, and on the back of it were two words: SAVE ME.
"Holy…" Elva and the sheriff looked out the window, of course, to where the bus once was.
In the Twilight Mall, around 2 PM, Heather was having a meeting with one of her most valued clients, Senator Buford from Arizona. They were talking about the recent discovery of a note written on the back of a shopping list just a few hours ago. "Happy? No. This is something quite apart from happiness. Call it a kind of bliss, an unquestioning serenity. True happiness requires some measure of self-awareness. We're talking about people here who have their—their very wills taken away."
"Imagine." Heather smirked. She was wearing her blood red ¾ sleeve wrap dress and black heels today and she saw how many parallels there were to Buford's problem and her own business in the Twilight Mall.
"The irony of bringing this to you is not lost on me Heather, I promise you."
"It's not the irony. It's just that you're asking me to place a Mankin with a federal agency."
"Indirectly."
"I don't wish to be so venomous, which I usually am, but one of the MANY benefits of having you as a client is to help avoid being tangled with federal agencies—senator."
"It's the ATF! You've been running guns?" Heather glared at the senator for that comment. "Besides, your Mankin won't be working with the government. One of your security guys will be there, and your Mankin will be perfectly fine."
"In a fanatical religious cult?"
"Heather, this…is an election year."
"Okay." Heather understood what he meant, but could care less—at least, that's what it looked like.
"I've got the family value voters on the right, the women's issues constituencies on the left, all of them coming after me if anything illegal is going on behind those compound walls. The ATF is convinced there is. Now we have a very narrow window on this warrant. If the government sends in some wet behind the ears Quantico undercover graduate, these people are going to know about it. I need the real thing. I need a true believer."
"Goodbye Senator." She showed him to the door.
"A true believer Heather. Remember that."
"Of course." He left, and once he was gone, Harold walked to her. "Come Harold. I need to talk to you." After she debriefed him on the latest assignment and planning to use Courtney—again—the two decided to take a walk through the complex.
"I don't like it."
"Good. It's your job not to like it Harold. But Senator Buford is more than just a valued client, he's a well-placed asset, and denying his request would have a secret downside that I would not like acquiescing."
"It's not the job I'm worried about; Chase can handle the ATF, its Courtney. I feel her response has been wildly erratic lately."
"She's demonstrated a talent for adaptability, which is exactly what's required in this Outing." And something I like about her.
"They shouldn't be adaptable, they should be predictable. If Tyler didn't teach us that much…" Heather stopped walking and the two were now in front of the entrance to the fitness section, where Eva was watching them and lifting weights at the same time.
"I understand you're still hurt from her not forgiving you for switching the votes, (thankfully, I wasn't on your team at the time) but really? It's been a decade Harold, give it up."
"No, it's not that. It's just…sometimes, I worry you like her, as you demonstrated in TDM." Heather forced Courtney into an alliance in TDM, and Courtney had started to grow on Heather—or so it seemed. Courtney was dumped like the rest of Heather's former alliance mates.
"Your objections have been noted. Thank you Harold. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go."
During Heather's meeting with Senator Buford, Beth and Cody were in Cody's office, and she wasn't too happy. "YOU HAVE WHO?!?!" Beth was wearing her same coat, but a light green tank top and pink A-line skirt. She was trailing Cody, who was getting ready to mind wipe Trent. Today, he was wearing his favorite red horizontal striped ¾ sleeved crew neck shirt and grey slacks with his classic white Vans.
"Yeah, we have Trent. He came at the right time to the right place. I have to start. My assistants are waiting." He was about to go into the Imprint Room, but Beth grabbed his hand and stopped him.
"Cody, doesn't the thought ever pop into your mind that we're hurting our friends? I know you're over Trent, maybe not, but…it was Katie, then Eva, Justin, Lindsay, Tyler…Courtney, Bridgette, and now Trent. Who's next?"
"Heather wants Leshawna, Sadie, Geoff, Izzy, Duncan, and DJ—"
"So everyone we know."
"That's not what I said."
"But it's as good as saying that! I'm worried, for everyone, for me, for you—"
"I'll be alright." Beth's hand went limp and fell to her side as she loosened her grip on Cody's hand. And once this happened, Cody left into the room. Beth could hear everything…the screaming, Cody's cold façade, everything.
"Cody? What are you doing? What am I doing here?" And then Cody went into his long speech about what he was going to do to Trent, just for kicks because they wouldn't remember. Beth bit back a few sobs. "DUDE, NO! I HAVE A WORLD TOUR TO COMPLETE! AND GWEN! I THOUGHT YOU CARED THAT SHE WAS HAPPY! SHE'S NOT HAPPY NOW THAT I'M GONE! CODY!!!" Trent screamed, and Beth could no long hold back her sobs of anguish. She never had feelings for Trent, but he was a sweet guy, and Cody's coldness made her consider from time to time why she liked him. But then she'd always realize he was still the same sweet guy from TD, before the fantasy became cold reality. She felt the light from the room wash over her, even scorch her a little bit on the inside, so she turned around and left to her office to cry away from everyone else. As she left Cody's own office space, Beth heard the phone ring. Beth cleared her voice and picked up Cody's desk phone.
"Hello?"
"Beth! Where's Cody?" Beth could almost see Heather's fake smile over the phone.
"Mind-wiping Trent."
"Ah yes. Well, can you tell him to meet me at your office?"
"My office?"
"Yes, and you have to perform a second exam on Courtney. I'm planning on having her infiltrate a religious cult on the orders of Senator Buford." Beth understood the senator was a very important client, and Beth didn't dare question Heather after that.
Cody was watching Beth from inside the room. Strange. Why didn't she leave? Cody left the room and walked up to Beth.
"Beth?"
"WAH!!" Beth jumped away from Cody, phone in her hand.
"Beth, what happened?" Heather asked over the phone, hearing Beth scream in fright.
"Nothing, nothing at all. Uh…Cody's here if you want to talk to him." Beth whispered to Heather over the phone.
"Get him on the line—NOW."
"Bye Cody." Beth gave him the phone and walked out of his office.
Courtney was watching her from the first floor while doing yoga with four other Mankins. Where is she going? And Courtney started walking in the same direction Beth was walking in, and Courtney found herself in Beth's office, watching Beth clear away a few more tears from her face.
"Courtney. I was just about to get you. Sit down please." Courtney reluctantly sat down on the chair. "Time for your exam."
"But I thought I had it already."
"This…is another one. Just stay still."
"Okay."
During the exam, Cody walked in, eyes shielded just in case Courtney was undressing for anything. Heather had told him everything about the latest Outing, and he brought his laptop down with him to show to Beth first and Heather when she eventually came.
"Cody, what are you doing?" Beth asked him.
"He looks funny." Courtney giggled. Cody opened his eyes, and he sighed.
"Phew! I thought Courtney was undressing or something—"
"She will be later. Then you can shield your eyes."
"Cool with me." Cody took a seat at Beth's desk, on the opposite side of her desktop, opened the laptop, and started explaining to Beth everything that would happen in order for the Outing to go by flawlessly, all the while with Beth still examining Courtney and Beth inputting her words of wisdom, retorts, and arguments.
After the exam was complete, Courtney put on her teal camisole as Heather walked in.
"Hello Courtney." Heather smiled, and Beth rolled her eyes in disgust, which Cody noticed, and smiled. At least someone thinks the same way I do.
"Hello. I had an exam."
"That's good. Would you like to have some lunch now?"
"I would." Courtney started to get up and make her way to the door.
"She shouldn't eat, not before the surgery." Beth informed Heather, and Heather followed Beth's warning, despite her dislike. Heather had wanted to possibly see how Courtney's mind worked.
"Courtney, go and have a massage."
"A massage would be relaxing."
"If she were any more relaxed, she'd be ooze." Cody muttered half to himself and half as a joke for the two women in the room since Courtney had left them. Cody was back to his trenchant self.
"So it's doable?" Heather asked Beth. Beth started to slowly pale, but not a lot.
"It's…experimental. And…highly invasive." Beth made her way to her swivel chair tucked behind her desk.
"But doable."
"The actual procedure isn't much more complicated than laser eye correction, it ain't brain surgery." Cody glared at Beth, who was about to sit down, but didn't.
"Actually, it is brain surgery." Beth corrected Cody, and he rolled his eyes in response. "We're going to turning Courtney into a human camera, and to do that, she has to be made blind."
"Not permanently." Cody added. Beth glared at him this time. Damn. If looks could kill…"In theory." Cody meekly added. Heather eyed Cody's black and white image being displayed on his laptop.
"So this is it."
"Yes, the latest is CSEVP. Cortical Stimulation for Evocation of Visual Perception."
"Brain camera for the blind." Beth added just before Heather could come up with a smart remark about Cody being too complicated.
"Or that." Cody was sighing on the inside. He wouldn't have been able to handle another one of Heather's venomous retorts.
"And this is what she'll be seeing?" Heather asked Cody.
"Well, this is what the Feds will be seeing. Only less clear once we get it inside of Courtney. We'll be using her eyes as lenses, images will bypass her own cortex and be broadcasted directly back to the ATF. Courtney herself will see no evil." Cody grinned at his own remark. Beth walked to Heather to make a point, a very important point.
"There have been instances of this technology causing aneurysms, and in once case, death. It's possible one good sneeze could—bring on a seizure!"
"Or even worse, a sneezure." Cody snickered, and both women slapped him on his head and said at the same exact time with the same exact intonation:
"Shut up Cody." Cody rubbed his head. Damn. I like it.
"The risks have been determined to be within acceptable margins. How soon can she be ready?" Heather asked Beth, staring daggers into her eyes.
"I'll need 24 hours." Heather's face brightened, but still maintained her trademark snooty look.
"Good. Clock starts now. Thanks." And Heather left the two in the office, Beth's eyes following Heather until she left the office.
"Did I sense some tension there?" Cody asked Beth slyly.
"Sure you did." Beth went to sit in her swivel chair.
"Well…?" Cody closed his laptop, put his elbows on top of it, and rested his chin on his hands, a grin spreading across his face.
"Well what?"
"Any reason?"
"Like I told you before, it's the people here. And the memories. I have my doubts from time to time, as I'm sure you do." Beth was right, and it made Cody's grin plummet. Even though it seemed like Cody loved his job with a ruthless passion (and a wide grin), he had a conscience just like everyone else who didn't work up top, such as The Sir, Harold, and Heather. But they actually have something against our TD friends. The Sir hated all of them with a passion, as did Heather for not seeing that the way she did things was ethical, and Harold, who used to be a nice guy, but proved everyone wrong after a few decisive actions, such as switching the votes on TDI and the evil actions that came later in TDA and TDM.
"And you still hate Heather because of what she made you do back in TDI." Cody leaned back in his chair.
"That too. It's nice to get revenge on her and have her know it from time to time. The good thing is that she can't fire me because she needs me."
"Ooo, are we getting evil?"
"Maybe…" Beth rolled her eyes, smiling. She got up from her seat for no particular reason, just to walk around her office. Cody tagged along, but Beth stopped after a few paces. "Cody, were you flirting with me?"
"Maybe…" Cody mimicked Beth, even down to the eye roll and intonation of voice.
"Practice for a special someone? Isn't that why you have Tawny and Blaire?"
"Well, yeah. And they're really great, but not—not as great as whom I like."
"So who's the special someone?" Beth turned around to face Cody. "Gwen?"
"Nah, I'm over her. We were never meant to be together."
"I can't imagine you trying to flirt—for real, not practice—with anyone else but Gwen."
"But I can." Cody smiled, which made Beth laugh a little.
"Who?" Cody still kept his smile, but something had changed within him.
"You'll see. See you later." Cody made his way to the door, but Beth stopped him.
"You won't tell me who you like? I can keep it secret if she's one of our TD friends." Cody remained silent for a few seconds, pondering a good reply.
"You're smart. You can figure out who it is without me even telling you." And with that, Cody left the office. But that wasn't practice Beth…that was the real thing. Cody smiled to himself as he left to go back to his office, hopeful that Beth would figure everything out.
Beth was puzzled. I wonder who he likes…She thought it was someone from TD, and she ruled out Courtney, Bridgette, Heather, Lindsay, Eva, Katie, and herself. Cody only considers me a good friend anyway. She suspected that Cody might be lying about not liking Gwen, and Sadie was suspect because she was single and beautiful from what Beth herself had heard. But as time wore on, she became less and less sure of ruling herself out as a "suspect". In the end, she gave up and completely focused on getting ready for tomorrow's surgery.
Six miles outside of Pleasant, Arizona the next day, in an inconspicuous house, an ATF team and Chase were having a meeting. The head of the ATF team, Agent Wesley Hinkley, was leading the meeting.
"This is our target. Calls himself Jonas Sparrow. Real name: Lars Veerson." Wesley held up a picture of Lars's mug shot and gave it to Nadia, one of Wesley's associates to pass copies out to everyone. "Thirty-six years of age, spent most of those years in federal prisons. Last time he was inside, he claimed a conversion experience, and upon release, he joined up with the Zion Ranch, formed a splinter group, they grew in number, and set up shop here." Wesley pointed to an aerial photo of the complex posted onto a clear whiteboard.
"What kind of shop?" One of Wesley's associates, Jerry, asked Wesley.
"Given Lars's history, it could be anything from gun running to human trafficking. One thing I can promise you is that he is not putting hay in a manger." This comment caused a few of the members of the team to laugh, and Chase wryly smiled. "Now our problem has been that we haven't been able to show proper cause for a warrant—until now. Lars never leaves the compound himself, but once a month, he sends his minions into town to buy supplies. They go in groups to watch each other. Apparently, one of them wasn't watching closely enough because one of the faithful scribbled this onto the back of a shopping list." Wesley held up the shopping list, sealed in an evidence bag, with the words SAVE ME written in big letters, to everyone in the room. Chase quietly examined it. "Save me. These two words have opened a small crack in the door, and the judge has agreed to let us do a sneak-and-peek. We have 48 hours to show cause for further action, and the door shuts again."
"Forty-eight hours to penetrate a closed group? To gain their confidence, to get inside?" Nadia asked Wesley. He merely sighed.
"Everyone, this is Chase Orson, a private contractor recommended to us by Senator Buford. I'll let him tell you what he does." Wesley stepped back and let Chase talk.
"Hey there. So what I do…I work with this extraordinary young woman. She's not a law enforcement officer, she's not an undercover agent, she's just a girl, and she's going to help us. Her name is Esther Louisa Applewhite, and she knows these people. She knows them like she knows herself."
"Did she escape from a cult?" Jerry asked Chase.
"No. She didn't escape from anything. Esther's talent is not in getting out, but getting in. And because of this talent, and because of who she is, that is what she will do. She will not arrive there a stranger or an intruder. She will walk through the gates of that compound and be accepted as one of them."
"How?" Nadia asked, highly unsure of Chase's claims.
"Through a miracle. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go." And Chase left the inconspicuous house to pick up Courtney, whose surgery to make her a human camera (and blind) was already complete.
A/N: Phew! The CodyxBeth conversation turned out better than I expected. Yup, and you got more of The Company being shown. So more trivia!
All of this was typed up in a matter of hours.
This isn't even the start of the true Outing, that will be next chapter.
If you thought bad things happened in TDI, and worse things are happening in TDA, wait till you see what I come up with for TDM.
There was a cameo appearance by Julie! Hope you liked it!
Songs that should be in your mind (because they were in mine!)-"Where I Stood"-Missy Higgins
Couples are still the same, The Company is still the same.
No questions today, but you can probably make them up yourself. So review please!