Author's Note: I have no idea about the layout or set up LA District Attorney's Office; I'm simply making something up that, I hope, sounds plausible.
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon created Faith; Glenn Eichler created Daria: I created Lynette Vaughn, Bonita Juarez, Carla Disk and Maggie Silber.
X X X X X
Lynette Vaughn said, "Daria?" hoping that there wasn't a third personality in the mix – but also wondering how they'd managed to change over themselves, and whether that would be good or bad. That Daria Morgendorffer and Faith Lehane had so far only been able to change personalities based on a specific external trigger was atypical, but not unheard of.
If they'd been able to do it deliberately --
"That would be me," Daria said. Well, that partially assuaged Lynette, but still left the other questions wide open.
"How did this happen?"
"A good magician never reveals her secrets," Daria said, smiling faintly.
"You're not a magician," Lynette said.
Still smiling, Daria said, "Faith disappeared and Daria appeared, and you don't know how I did it. If that's not magic, what is?"
"It could be a sign that your personalities are starting to integrate," Lynette said.
The smile vanished. Daria said, "I suppose that's possible. But I still don't have any of her memories and I'd be willing to bet cold hard cash that she doesn't have any of mine. And we're still no closer to figuring out what happened on April 10, 1997."
"So, how did you change personalities? This is the first time you've accomplished that without having me trigger it."
"As far as you know," Daria said teasingly. Then, before Lynette could say anything else, said, "Yes. It was the first time. And as far as how we did it . . . she pinched me."
Lynette didn't understand. "She pinched you?"
"We've already proven we can communicate in our dreams," Daria said. "We were talking about Maggie Silber and –" Daria hesitated for a moment, making Lynette wonder why – "some of the things she'd done, beyond the murders. Parenthetically, I realize she isn't a nice person, Dr. Vaughn. I know what she's capable of, and quite frankly, it horrifies me that on some level, that that's what I'm capable of. Honestly, I'm not sure I want to be integrated, if integration would bring about an understanding of her thought processes." After a second, "In any event, at the end of the dream, we were actually trying to figure out if we could control the switch ourselves. Faith grinned, said she had an idea, and pinched me."
"And you woke up," Lynette said.
"And I woke up," Daria said. "And, honestly, you're the first person to notice the difference. I carried myself confidently and didn't talk much. I tried to emulate Faith's speech patterns when I had to. In other words, I tried to fake soundin' like she sounds –" and for that last phrase, she indeed sounded a good deal like Faith, minus the accent -- "but I couldn't do the voice. I have no idea how she acquired that thick Boston accent." The voices weren't close enough that anyone who was really paying attention couldn't have been able to tell the difference, but it had apparently fooled everyone else today.
"That happens a lot with DID," Lynette said. "One personality will speak in a completely different voice from the other – even to the point of having the voiceprints be distinct. Even a skilled voice mimic's voiceprint will be identifiable, no matter whose voice they're doing. Split personalities are different people."
"Believe me, I know that." Daria stared steadily into Lynette's eyes. "I assume I will not be finishing out this session."
"I need to talk to both you and Faith," Lynette said. "I was expecting to talk to Faith first, but I'm flexible. So, what have you been doing since you regained consciousness?"
"Besides Faith's daily routine, I've been thinking a lot about my parents – grieving, I guess, trying to come to terms that they're not only dead but they've been dead for nearly four years. What is today's date, anyway?"
"April 6, 2001," Lynette said. "Have you come to terms with it?"
"Do I accept that they're dead? Yes. Am I completely emotionally capable of dealing with that fact? Of course not. I suspect I won't for quite a while yet."
"And . . . have you discovered anything else?"
"I have one random memory that I absolutely cannot place," Daria said. "It may come from April 10, 1997, or it may come from somewhere else entirely. But the memory is of the word 'faith' written in large dark letters on a wall somewhere. An inside wall. Otherwise, my last memory is still reading Dhalgren on April 9."
Lynette jotted this down and made a note to ask Faith about it. This could be where the name had come from. She said as much to Daria, who said, "Of course. That's why I brought it up. By the way, I hope you don't object to Faith occasionally bringing me out," Daria said. "Because I like the idea of having some control over what's going on – no matter how small a measure of control it may be."
"I can understand that, Daria," Lynette said. "But you understand how dangerous it can be?"
"There are benefits to sharing a body with someone who has the kind of reputation Faith has," Daria said. "I think I can handle myself. If I can't, believe me, I'll tell you and we can work on it from there." After a second, "And I can see by the expression on your face that it's once again time for me to retreat to the nothingness whence I've been for the last four years."
There seemed to be a part of Daria that didn't think she'd ever regain full control of who she was, again. In a very real sense, she was right. Even if her personality dominated, she'd still have to deal with what Faith had done.
And that still left aside the question of what had happened that April 10.
"I do have to discuss some things with Faith," Lynette said. "Faith Ellen Leha-"
X X X X X
Carla Fisk was sitting in her tiny room in the LA County DA's office. She was fortunate she rated one at all, even at 37 with nearly 10 years' experience working there. She'd taken the job right out of law school, despite the more lucrative offers she'd gotten from various firms around California. (The one from Wolfram & Hart had been especially hard to turn down, but from what she'd heard of the place since she was glad she had.)
That she'd caught the Lehane case had been sheer luck. Bad luck, probably. Carla had just finished up a major case against a drug dealer – the result had been a mixed blessing, but the man would still be in jail for three years, at least – when Warden Juarez's call had come in. As she'd had the least on her plate of anyone in the vicinity, she'd been the one pegged to deal with it.
There was a knock on the door. "Come in," she said.
A well-toned woman of about sixty entered the room. "Ms. Fisk?" she said.
"Yes?"
"I'm Maggie Silber. I've been retained to represent Faith Lehane. I understand you're the one assigned to her case."
That Carla believed that Warden Juarez had done the right thing in calling her in no way stopped Carla from momentarily wishing that she were doing something more relaxing right now – like, say, jogging down the interstate during rush hour. "I am, though I wouldn't call it a case quite yet."
Carla half-rose from her seat and shook Mrs. Silber's hand, then they both sat down. "Why wouldn't you call it a case?"
"Because, at the moment, she's not on trial or scheduled to be on trial. I'm simply doing my best to scope out her situation and determine what the DA's office should do next."
"Fine," Mrs. Silber said. "How about contacting Daria Morgendorffer's surviving relatives?"
Inwardly, Carla cursed herself. Somehow, in looking up the details of the life of Daria Morgendorffer before and after she became Faith Lehane, she'd missed checking to see on what other relatives she might have. She didn't let it show, though simply saying, "I wasn't sure they'd want to see her in her current condition."
Mrs. Silber smiled, but it wasn't a smile with any warmth in it. "I figured you might say something like that. So I've already called them."
"Of course you have," Carla said. "And what was their response?"
"I contacted her mother's two sisters, Rita and Amy Barksdale. They would be Miss Morgendorffer's closest living relatives. Amy Barksdale is flying out here tomorrow. The other aunt will be here in a couple of days."
"What did you tell them?"
"The truth," Mrs. Silber said. "That we had located their niece Daria . . . and that she was being held in the LA County Jail when at the very most she should be undergoing therapy."
"Why did you do that?"
"Because you weren't doing anything –"
Carla breathed in slowly, blew out the breath between pursed cheeks, and stared evenly at Mrs. Silber. She tried not to let her anger seep into her voice. "Why would you make that assumption?"
"Because you've been working on this –"
"I've been working on this for five days," Carla said. "And it's not like this is the only thing I have to do. Yes, I'll admit it. I didn't call Daria Morgendorffer's relatives. It didn't even occur to me, and that was a mistake on my part. But I would have done it." She glared at Mrs. Silber. "I know that as a defense attorney you're kind of preprogrammed to assume that I'm one of the bad guys – that all I've been doing has been trying to find a way to sweep this under the rug. That's not the case."
"So what you've been doing is . . ."
"Two things. Familiarizing myself with the family history, and trying to figure out how to handle this without negative fallout for anyone. Including Miss Morgendorffer. The state is not necessarily best served by having someone with a genuine multiple personality disorder stay in jail. But if it's badly handled, it could blow up in all our faces." She looked directly into Maggie Silber's blue eyes. "Including yours, and ours, and most importantly, Miss Morgendorffer's."
"Point taken," Mrs. Silber said.
"So let's make a deal, alright? You go by the assumption that I am not in fact trying to screw your client over, and I'll go by the assumption that you're not trying to make my job more difficult either." She extended a hand again. "Deal?"
"Deal," Mrs. Silber said without hesitation. "I'll also do my best to keep this from getting into the papers – at least, not until we have everything hashed out. I told Rita and Amy Barksdale to keep it quiet as well." She sank back in her chair. "And I'm sorry I made those assumptions."
"I accept your apology," Carla said. "Now then. I'd actually prefer we work together on this, if at all possible. Could we agree to a basic information swap?" There were certain things that had to be kept confidential, of course -- the details of the Willard Jay Harbaugh case, for instance, which she was planning to get to Dr. Vaughn as soon as possible.
When Mrs. Silber seemed a bit reluctant, Carla said, "I'm inclined towards helping her anyway. Anything you tell me that could help me convince my boss --" a bit of puffery on Carla's part; the District Attorney trusted his underlings and would sign off on anything reasonable she did -- "and the public --" and that was the most important part -- "can only help your client's cause, Mrs. Silber."
Finally, the defense attorney said, "Yes. I'd also like the chance to talk to the Daria part of her personality. Faith was dominant when I went to visit her."
"I'll talk with Dr. Vaughn and arrange that." She looked over. "Are you going to want your own psychiatrist to examine her?"
Mrs. Silber shook her head. "No, since it was Dr. Vaughn who brought this up in the first place, I'll accept her analysis for now. I reserve the right to change my mind, though."
"Fair enough. Want to get started, or shall I?"
"Let's trade off."