Author's Note: If anyone's interested, when creating the characters I had the actress Amy Brenneman firmly in my mind when picturing Mrs. Krueger. As for my other original characters, I'm not sure. Any thoughts?
Also, some light timejumping this part. Nothing too taxing.
Disclaimer: Daria belongs to Glenn Eichler; Faith, Lilah, Linwood and Wolfram & Hart belong to Joss Whedon; everyone else belongs to me.
X X X X X
When Mrs. Krueger got to the police station, she still hadn't given the police her name.
To her great surprise, though, an attorney was there waiting for her. "What are you doing to my client?" he asked.
"And you are?" Detective Gannon asked.
"Jess Ferrell, Wolfram & Hart. And I'd like to talk with my client."
"I have invoked my right to counsel," Mrs. Krueger said. "And I think I'd like to talk to him, too."
"After we're done processing you," Detective Gannon said firmly.
About a half hour later, she finally got to see the lawyer in private. "Not that I'm not glad to see you," she said, "But I didn't ask for you specifically."
"True," Ferrell said, opening his briefcase. "But we decided that since we're partly responsible for getting you into this predicament, that it was only fair that we should get you out of it."
"You sent the shapeshifter," Mrs. Krueger said, not making it a question.
"Not me personally," Ferrell said. "But yes, Wolfram & Hart is responsible for putting the shapeshifter in your way."
"Why?"
"Because at the moment we have a vested interest in keeping Faith Lehane alive," Ferrell said. "You don't really need to know any more than that. Now. This is going to be difficult to get you out of, but I think we can get you completely cleared of all charges."
Mrs. Krueger knew damn well that Wolfram & Hart didn't do charity work. "And what I have to do in exchange is . . ."
Ferrell smiled. "Right to the point. I knew I'd like doing business with you." He pulled a contract out of his briefcase. "You have to sign this contract making your services exclusive to Wolfram & Hart."
"I figured as much." When after another ten seconds or so she hadn't said anything, the Wolfram & Hart attorney said, "Think about it this way. You career, as you know it, is over whether I spring you or help you get off. The police are onto you now -- they know who you are, and they'll spread it, even if they can't prove it. At least by signing on with us you get to keep doing what you like, and you keep getting paid to do it. And we might be able to restore your hand --"
"No," Mrs. Krueger said firmly. "I've heard where you get those body parts from. And I like my metal hand by now, anyway. In any event, the police don't have any evidence on my earlier career."
"They can," Ferrell said pleasantly.
Sighing, Mrs. Krueger said, "Give me the damn contract." She read it over. Wolfram & Hart wasn't lying about one thing -- the money was good. As for her soul, she'd always figured that was bound for hell anyway. She signed it at the bottom.
Ferrell looked down at it. "I can't read the signature, but don't think that's going to get you out of this if you change your mind later."
"I didn't think that at all," Mrs. Krueger said. "I just have lousy handwriting."
"So," the attorney said. "What's your real name?"
So she told him.
X X X X X
As the police drove Cameron Kim to the station, they suddenly stopped and turned around. The car screeched to a stop and, after the driver turned around and said, "Stay here," as though most normal people would have had a choice, they both sprinted into a nearby building.
Cameron didn't know what or who had made them run off like that, but she wasn't going let such a spectacular opportunity to get out pass her by. She changed into a bonobo -- also much stronger than a human being of the same weight -- and began yanking at the grill separating her from the front seats. (She knew better than to try to punch out the glass.)
The grill, though, was built to withstand human strength, even angry human strength; it was less than adequate against a determined ape. After a minute or so of work, she'd managed to work the grill loose. She then shoved it into the front seat, scrambled over it, and out the driver's side door.
After getting well clear, she dodged into an alley, shifted into the form of a tall, thin black woman wearing a waitress uniform, and calmly walked off.
Cameron was tired -- but she figured she'd better get to Wolfram & Hart and report in first. She hailed a cab and got in and ordered the cabbie to take her to Wolfram & Hart main office.
Then, tomorrow, she'd see what new assignment they had ready for her.
X X X X X
When Daria woke up, she had a stiff neck, but she knew what she was going to do with her life. On balance, despite fighting for her life, almost destroying her cell, finding out her aunts didn't care about her opinions, and facing off against an occasionally snippy echo of a vampire slayer, she'd had a good 24 hours or so.
Strike "good" and replace it with "productive."
After ten minutes or so, a guard came in and said, "Come on, Lehane." Daria stood up, spent a few seconds working the kinks out of her muscles -- the guard graciously gave her the time -- and then followed him.
When it turned out they were headed to the cafeteria, Daria asked, "Any idea when I'll be able to get back into my cell?"
"Nope. They didn't tell me. They just told me to take you to breakfast and then to your job." Interesting that she still had the prison job, what with being completely insane, prone to fits of rage, and having people so interested in having her dead that they'd break into a prison to do it. Either the warden was throwing her weight around, or no one had cut through all the red tape yet and the forms ordering her disposition were buried somewhere on some flunky's desk. She wouldn't have placed bets either way.
Daria proceeded to do exactly what the guard had delineated, at least until most of the way through her second class -- which taught general clerical skills. Then another guard came in and said she'd been ordered to the warden's office.
Once the guard had closed the door and left them alone, the warden said, "I've got the story in place."
"You do?"
"Yes." Then she explained the story they were going to feed the police, reporters, and anyone else who happened to ask.
Daria thought it was pretty good; her only question once Warden Juarez was done was, "What about the eyewitnesses and our two midnight visitors?"
"The guards didn't see much -- and they'll say what I tell them to say. As for Maria Perez and Eve Jackson . . . well, let's just say that bribes were involved."
"You must trust me a lot to tell me this."
"I trust you because I know this is in both of our best interests. If we go down, we go down together." Actually, Daria wouldn't harm the warden unless the warden harmed her first. And so far Bonita Juarez appeared to be one of the few people she'd met who was actively trying not to cause her trouble. But she understood the woman's reasoning.
"Let me guess. Since you're going to need to make them look like they were on some sort of pharmaceutical, and that this is going to make them look bad and maybe add some time to their sentences, you figured that it would only be fair to offer them some compensation, because while you're perfectly willing to be a harass to inmates who deserve it, you feel it's unfair to cause trouble for those who haven't. And so, since Maria Perez and Eve Jackson are fundamentally innocent, and you're going to have to get them in trouble for the greater good of the prison, they're going to have to get something to make up for it. How am I doing?"
"A good guess," the warden admitted.
"I said I'd back your story, and I will," Daria said. "What about our two visitors?"
"One lawyered up almost immediately and hasn't so much as given the police her real name. The other one, um, escaped."
"Behold the legendary prowess of the Los Angeles Police Department," Daria said.
The warden snorted, but changed the topic. "You might want to know, also, that your aunts didn't waste any time. You're scheduled this afternoon at 2 PM to get a visit from a Dr. Simonson."
"Thanks for the warning," Daria said.
"And try to behave yourself, okay?" she asked. "I'd really like you to get out of the prison so I can put all of this shit -- multiple personality disorder, invading leopard women, you pounding the hell out of your cell wall -- behind me, and behind this prison. All I've ever wanted to have this place run as smoothly as I can have it run. Having you here doesn't make that any easier."
"I plan to behave myself." Daria didn't bother coming up with a smartass response to the warden's statements, because the warden was telling her the truth as she saw it, not being vituperative, and if she'd wanted to be vindictive there had been several points over the last two weeks that she could have done so. She hadn't. "Not that I'm still not a little annoyed about the way this was all handled. But I have no idea whether someone might decide to repeat the events of last night -- and I'd rather not be here when that happens, any more than you want to have me here."
"Good. We understand each other."
"We certainly do."
Warden Juarez summoned the guards to take Daria -- by now, it would be to take her to lunch.
Dr. David Simonson proved to be completely humorless and, in Daria's opinion at least, borderline competent. She fed him the answers he wanted to hear -- yes, she was still somewhat upset, but yes, she wanted to get out of the prison, so yes, she would cooperate, and no, she had seen or felt no evidence of Faith's existence since Dr. Vaughn had removed her.
The psychiatrist, at the end of the hour, seemed satisfied, although he promised to hypnotize her on the next visit to make certain she wasn't lying.
That should prove interesting.
X X X X X
Carla Fisk awoke the morning of Wednesday, April 11, 2001, to the sound, on her clock radio, of an incoherent story about an attack on the prison where Daria Morgendorffer was being held, and the subsequent, um, escape from custody of one of the attackers, a young Korean woman who had, apparently falsely, identified herself as Lucy Park.
She had five messages on her phone already; she'd turned the ringer off last night to stop anyone from waking her up for "just one more question --" one from the DA's office and four from various reporters. As soon as she spent five minutes cleaning up, she called the DA back.
"You must have gotten into work extra early today," she said.
"I never left," he said, and probably meant it. "Anyway, I wanted to let you know that you do not have to field any calls about yesterday's break-in at the jail."
"I couldn't even if I wanted to, sir," she said. "The only thing I know about it was the thirty-second story I heard on KBTS when my alarm went off. And that story didn't make much sense."
"I've been hearing about it half the night and it doesn't make any more sense to me," he said. "The only thing you need to know for your purposes is that Daria Morgendorffer was the intended target but managed to fight off her attacker. We have that attacker in custody and I'd like you to prosecute the case."
Carla shook her head to clear it of any remaining sleep fog, and said, "Are you sure, sir? There're certainly still going to be some calls coming in on the original Morgendorffer/Lehane issue."
"And you can keep fielding them on occasion -- but they're no longer your top priority. This woman who invaded the prison and tried to kill Morgendorffer is."
It struck Carla as the kind of case any attorney in the building could easily handle in their sleep, and she said so. "You'd think so, until you realize who this woman has for her defense attorney."
"I don't care if she's got Perry Mason working with Matlock," Carla said. "This is a slam dunk."
"She's being represented by Wolfram & Hart."
Carla took a deep breath, blew it out between pursed lips, and said, "I can handle this, sir."
"I hope you can," he said, and hung up.
Well. She wished she could take back her words to the District Attorney, whose attitude seemed to be, "Hey, you just climbed Mount Everest; why not go swim the English Channel?"
Fortunately, she was in good enough shape to do both.
X X X X X
Lilah Morgan stood in front of Linwood Murrow. "So," the man said. "Not only did Daria Morgendorffer survive the night, but we managed to take advantage of the opportunity to sign Mrs. Krueger up as an official employee. I'd say that was a productive couple of days, Lilah."
"Thank you, sir," she said. Of course, getting Mrs. Krueger completely cleared of charges would be hard even for them. Still, she had no doubts the Wolfram & Hart legal team would find some means, fair or foul -- okay, most likely foul, but they weren't above playing fair when they had to -- to get her freed.
"And Cameron Kim?"
"She was told not to let either Ms. Morgendorffer or Mrs. Krueger die, and they're both still alive. That she had to be rescued is costing her her bonus, but I don't see any particular reason to discipline her. Genuine shapeshifters her level of talent are rare."
"True," Linwood said. "I'm leaving that up to your discretion."
When Linwood hadn't said anything else after a minute, Lilah assumed she'd been dismissed and said, "Good day, sir," as she made her way to the door.
"Lilah," he said after she took a step.
She turned back around. "Yes?"
"One thing you seem to be glossing over is that Daria Morgendorffer successfully fought off Mrs. Krueger by herself, without a lick of training. Is it possible we've been played for fools throughout this?"
"I don't think so," Lilah said. "It turns out that the Council representative never bothered to tell Mrs. Krueger she was facing off against an actual Slayer. And while Daria Morgendorffer's personality may not be trained, she still has the physical abilities any Slayer does. I think the combination explains Mrs. Krueger's defeat."
"It does," Linwood said, frowning slightly. "Still. This development worries me a bit. Continue to keep an eye on Daria Morgendorffer. Should she prove interested in the life of a Slayer -- well, then, we might have to reconsider your position on keeping her alive -- along with other positions you're currently holding. If you catch my drift."
If she caught his drift? She couldn't have avoided catching it if she'd tried.
Still, Lilah thought as she walked away, it wasn't her life wasn't in constant danger anyway, just by living here. One more threat was hardly going to faze her.
For the moment, things were going well.
That was good enough.