Author's note: A slight step backwards in time at the beginning here, to finish up Faith and Daria's dream.
Disclaimer: Dis-clay-muhr. Noun. One who disclaims. Also, a mandatory notice put at the beginning of fanfic, indicating that all non-original characters are not the property of the author.
X X X X X
Faith and Daria had actually sparred for a bit in their dream. Faith hadn't been quite right; when Daria concentrated fully on the fighting she found she was able to slip a blow or two under Faith's guard.
Faith had been right about something else, though; she felt different when she was like this. More confident -- and more physically mature. When she'd gotten a really good chance to look at herself back when Faith had pinched her and she'd woken up, she'd been stunned by how she'd physically matured in the intervening four years. Not just the muscle tone -- but her figure as well. Back in Highland, she'd never had much of one. Now things were definitely different.
Daria had never been fond of people paying attention to her for her looks -- and now she couldn't deny she had looks. Faith was gorgeous. And she was Faith.
Therefore, she was gorgeous.
She wasn't sure she liked that. It wasn't that she wanted people to like her for her mind; for the most part, she didn't care whether people liked her or hated her. But she didn't want them to like her for her looks.
Nothing she could do about that now, short of self-mutilation. And she wasn't that desperate to be disliked.
In any event, when they fought, while Daria had struck Faith more than Faith had predicted, for every blow Daria had landed Faith had landed five.
At least, at first.
Daria figured she couldn't match Faith's experience, even if they were equals in strength and speed and muscle memory.
Then she figured it out.
She penetrated Faith's guard and nailed her with a solid right to the jaw, then she stepped quickly backwards to dodge Faith's return punch, hitting her again when she missed.
After she did this three times in a row, Faith held up her hands and said, "Okay, time."
Daria stopped. "Where the hell'd you pick up that last move?" Faith asked. "Ain't something I've ever done."
"I couldn't beat you using moves that you'd been practicing for years," Daria said, shrugging. "So I let our instincts handle the fighting while I observed you to see if I could find a pattern. You like quick return attacks. I hit you; you hit back harder. So I made it my priority to dodge your return attack."
Faith laughed and clapped her on the back. "Good job, Daria. I think you're getting it."
"I'm still not saying that I buy everything you've been telling me about the supernatural."
Faith said, "Yeah, you do."
Then she pinched her again, and Daria woke up.
And she wasn't scheduled for any sessions with Dr. Vaughn today.
Okay, last time she'd fooled everyone for several hours; let's see if she could do it for more than a day . . .
X X X X X
"The last time I checked," Lynette Vaughn said, "Faith Lehane hadn't been declared incompetent to make her own decisions. So it is her choice."
"With what you've told us it would be a fairly easy step," ADA Fisk said. "I've been doing some research -- usually people with multiple personalities have to take special steps to be declared legally sane, not the other way around."
"It's still not an automatic finding," Lynette said. "And neither personality is dangerous, at the moment. I'd testify to that in court if I had to."
ADA Fisk blinked. "Not dangerous? One of her personalities murdered two people."
"And turned herself in and has said, at every opportunity, that she doesn't want to leave prison until she's done her time," Lynette said. "The courts could have had Faith Lehane declared legally insane during her trial or sentencing. They didn't."
"They made her come see you, Lynette," Bonnie murmured.
Lynette shot Bonnie a look. "Yes. They did. But she's in the LA County Jail, not the LA County psych wards."
"So you're saying you're not going to cooperate?" ADA Fisk asked.
"In this case, no," Lynette said. They had her report; she wasn't going to take that away. "I'm willing to be convinced otherwise, but it seems like a drastic step."
"Actually," Bonnie said, "I think it's a compromise."
"Why do you think that?" Lynette snapped.
Bonnie held up her hands. "Calm down. The two of you invited me here so you could have a third opinion. In my opinion, this is a compromise."
"Okay," Lynette said, trying to calm herself down. Bonnie hadn't deserved to be snarled at like that. "Explain."
"Sure. Carla could be taking all this and saying, fuck that, Faith Lehane is a killer and needs to stay in jail. She's not. She could also be saying that the DA's office wants her at least to be in a mental institution for the next fifteen years. She's not saying that, either. I get what you're saying, I do. Lehane's been a model inmate; after the usual pecking order fight when she got there she hasn't been any trouble at all. So I see where you're coming from. She's not crazy, not by the legal definition or the definition of the person on the street."
"And this would get Daria Morgendorffer -- who we all agree was an innocent victim in all of this -- back on the streets, as soon as you say she's ready," ADA Fisk said.
"I know," Lynette said. "And I want to see that happen. But doing it this way means we're not going to be getting any cooperation -- certainly, none from the Faith persona. And at the moment you couldn't force her anyway."
"Since she is legally forced to see you," Bonnie said, "Could we go at it that way?"
"No. She only has to see me once a week by the terms of her plea. And she has to agree to any radical therapies. Forcibly taking away a personality would qualify."
"But not if we got her declared non compis mentis," ADA Fisk said. "I could probably get an expedited hearing."
"With what as proof? My report?" Lynette said. "That won't be enough."
"It would be if we got a relative to go along with it," ADA Fisk said.
"But --" Lynette stopped, suddenly getting it. "You're going to talk to Amy Barksdale."
"I think I can convince her," the ADA said. "Look. Dr. Vaughn. I understand that you don't like this. But I really am thinking of Ms. Morgendorffer's greater good."
"'In all of history, no greater damage has been done than by someone who thought they were doing the right thing.' Charles Schulz. Look. Your mind is made up. I won't stop you, and I won't work against you. But my report is all the help you'll get from me." Lynette stood up and nodded twice. "ADA Fisk. Bonnie."
Then she left the room.
X X X X X
Amy Barksdale looked out the car window at their destination. "He lives in a hotel?"
"It's his office, as well," Maggie Silber said. "He owns the building."
Amy looked up. "The place must have been impressive, once upon a time." The building's exterior had an air of anachronism to it -- as though it had been plucked out of the golden age of Hollywood and plopped into the early 21st century. Only a few vague hints of decay showed its true age.
"It was," Maggie said. "I'm just old enough to remember the Hyperion's heyday. It was one of the grandest hotels in Los Angeles."
"And now it's an office for a detective agency," Amy said. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen."
As Maggie parked the car, she said, "It could be worse. It could be torn down, like the Richfield Building was." Amy had never heard of it. "One of the masterpieces of Art Deco in LA," she said.
"Ah. Interesting." And she meant it; but at the moment Amy was mostly concerned with the man who'd hired Maggie to defend her niece. So far, literally the only things she knew about him were his job, his name (and only his first), and that he'd stopped Faith from, effectively, committing suicide.
There didn't seem to be any signs of life as they approached the entrance. "He said he'd be waiting inside," Maggie said.
They opened the front door. The lobby was expansive, with a beautiful grand staircase.
A fairly good-looking guy of about 30 sat on one of the couches in the lobby. He stood up as Amy and Maggie entered and walked over to them. "You must be Ms. Barksdale and Mrs. Silber," he said. "Hi. I'm Angel." He shook both of their hands, quickly. Amy noticed how cold his hands seemed. "Come on over and sit down," he said gesturing to the couches.
"Call me Amy," Amy said. Maggie indicated that Angel should call her Maggie.
"Would you like any coffee?" The both said no. "Thank God," he said wryly. "Because it's a Sunday and we're not working on any active cases, I'm the only one in the office. And my coffee-making skills leave a lot to be desired."
"Don't worry," Amy said. "I have been immunized against all known poisons."
Angel grinned, then said, "So you wanted to help me pay for Mrs. Silber's services?"
"Yes. But first I wanted to thank you. 'Faith' told me what you'd done for her. That she'd come here and tried to get you to kill her --"
"She was going for something like 'suicide by cop," Angel said. "I wasn't going to let her."
"But how did you get through to her? And why did she come to you?"
"I . . . first met her in Sunnydale," Angel said. "That's a couple of hours north of here. After she killed the Deputy Mayor --"
"You knew about that back then?" Amy said.
"Yes. And the reason I didn't turn her in," he said, anticipating Amy's next question, "is that I knew that wouldn't help her. She had to pull herself clear of that darkness. I knew that from experience --"
"You'd seen a lot of that in your time as a private investigator?" Amy asked.
After a brief hesitation, Angel said, "Yes. I knew how tempting that path could be. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to save Faith then. She threw herself headlong into being as bad a bad girl as she could. But when she finally figured out what she'd done -- why it was wrong -- she knew I was the one who'd understand. But in her frame of mind, she wasn't thinking of confessing. Instead, she actually took money from -- someone who doesn't like me -- and tried to kill me. Eventually, she and I started fighting in an alley --"
"I can't believe she'd be that tough a fighter, though," Amy said.
"She's a lot tougher than she looks," Angel said. "Anyway, she went on about how bad she was, how tough, how evil, and then she started daring me to kill her. Then she started begging me to do it. I refused and took her back to my office -- and, after a couple of days, she decided to turn herself in."
Amy said, "Thank you. Because of what you did, I have a chance to get my niece back."
"You're welcome," Angel said. Then, turning his head to Maggie, he said, "Do we have a chance to get her out?"
Maggie said, "Yes. And a pretty good one. The DA working on this has actually been fairly cooperative. She seems to want to help Daria almost as much as we do -- she's just trying to make sure that there's no negative publicity."
"If she gets out," Angel pointed out, "There's going to be negative publicity. Split personality or not, she killed two people."
"She's trying to minimize it," Maggie said, "And I can't really say I blame her. The last thing we need is the victim's family members or a group of victim's rights advocated up here whining about how Daria's getting special treatment. We know she was a victim, but I doubt they'll see it that way."
"So. Money?" Amy said. "My sister and I have had a $50,000 reward outstanding for the last four years for anyone who found our niece. Dr. Vaughn turned it down, so I was planning to give it to Mrs. Silber here to help pay her fee."
Angel thought for a second. "How much do I owe you so far, Mrs. Silber?"
"My secretary normally handles the billing," she said. "But so far, I'd say about $2,000." Amy figured that either Maggie Silber was one of the cheapest lawyers in town or that she was tailoring her rates to her clientele. Despite that he owned the hotel, Angel definitely came across as someone who worked for a living.
Maggie's cell phone rang. She excused herself and answered it.
"Then, Amy, I'd say, save your money for the moment. Give it to Faith -- sorry, Daria -- when she gets out. She's likely to need it."
Amy's eyebrows raised. This guy seemed entirely too good to be true. He was good-looking, rescued people, and was capable of turning down fifty grand to help pay off a bill. Something had to be wrong with him. A gambling problem, a drinking problem, something like that.
Anyway, she wasn't going to turn him down. Fairness dictated that she say, "Are you sure?" When he indicated he was, she said, "Then to Daria it goes."
Maggie hung up her phone and said, "That was Carla Fisk." To Angel she said, "She's the DA assigned to the case." Then, "She's read the report from Dr. Vaughn and she's ready to propose terms that could get Daria, eventually, out of jail."
"Good," Amy said. Then, nodding to Angel, she said, "Thank you again. If you change your mind, let me know." She wrote down her cell phone number on a business card and handed it over.
Angel thanked her, walked over to what had clearly once been a front desk, and got a card of his own. "This is the number of Angel Investigations. If you have any other questions -- particularly about what Faith was like --"
But Amy shook her head. "I already know everything I need to know about Faith," she said. "Now I need to do what I have to do to recover Daria."