A/N- Howdy. So believe it or not this is shorter than it could have been (contemplate that for a minute lol)... Not a lot to say about this one except that it's set in the present. also, thanks once again to everyone who's taken the time to read... I'm frankly always sort of astonished that anyone is interested, so I'm grateful for all of you haha (and I also appreciate all the reviews, faves, follows, etc... you guys are the best). standard shout out to The Person Who Read This for endless enthusiasm and excellent advice. :) So... without further ado... (PS this chapter is set in the present)

Unforgiven

Part I- The Bastard of Cara County

DAY 1-

Like most of Haven's residents, Lorna Morello wasn't particularly eager to talk about her past with anyone. She had essentially appeared one day seven years ago in the company of Sister Ingalls, who had gone up North to do business with the man who provided her with some of her medical equipment. She'd been barely 17 when she'd arrived, and her face had been covered in bruises, her body not much better (she'd been pregnant when she'd gotten there, but the baby had been lost days later, and she couldn't bring herself to grieve it). She'd been at the Nun's for nearly a month before she would show her face to anyone. Over time, she had become part of the town. No one had asked her any questions, and she had been grateful for it.

But there were a few people she trusted with bits and pieces of her history. The story of a 16 year old girl, the fourth of five children, and a girl to boot. Essentially sold in marriage to the scion of the family who ran their county with an iron fist. She'd been so naive. Her family's existence had been hardscrabble. Her father packed up the whole family from their home in New York City and brought them out West, hoping to find his fortune panning gold in San Francisco, only to die of fever halfway there, stranding his wife and children in a godforsaken town. Her mother and older sisters took in washing and sewing work to keep them all afloat. Lorna had spent her childhood wrapped up in books and fairy tales, always imagining herself a princess, always waiting for a man to come sweep her away, take care of her. When she was sent up to the big house, she assumed she was going to her prince, her knight in shining armor.

Christopher MacLaren had shattered her illusions on their wedding night, taking her innocence fast and rough and with not one thought for her comfort before leaving her bed for that of his mistress in town. As it happened, that was about as kind as he ever got. His parents were foreboding and cold. Christopher himself, an only child, always told that he was incapable of doing wrong, was capricious and casually cruel, abusive in both word and action.

It had taken less than a week for Lorna to start wishing for escape. Christopher thought her weak, and in many ways she agreed with him, but as soon as she learned she was pregnant, she knew she had to escape. It wasn't that she wanted the child for herself (in fact she hated him and wanted nothing to do with anything that came from him), she simply didn't want him to have the child... Like many men of his ilk, he was as paranoid as he was mean. She was locked away at night in a second story room. he thought she didn't have the wherewithal to even attempt to escape out the window.

She proved him wrong one summer night, slipping out at four am, twisting her ankle in the jump, but still making it off the MacLaren estate somehow, running as fast as she could, barefoot, wearing only her nightgown. The estate was on the outskirts of town, and she wasn't sure what she would do when she got there... so many people were in his family's pocket... but the first person she'd run across was a woman driving her wagon south, towards her own home three days away. A stranger. Perhaps someone who wasn't in the MacLaren's pocket. So she'd begged the woman to take her away. The woman had taken one look at her face and helped her up into the wagon...

In Haven, Lorna had learned medicine and healing from the Nun and the apothecary. She'd become independent, joining Rosa because it's what she wanted to do, not something anyone was forcing her to do. She'd love in the least likely of places (with the bushy haired bartender at the saloon, whose first words to her had been, "Well, aren't you a ripe tomato..."). She had made a life for herself, a life that she'd chosen for herself . A life that she loved...

She'd hoped he would've forgotten by now... but like most men of his kind, he did not forget, nor did he forgive. Especially not when someone had stolen something precious from him...

Sister Ingalls and Nicky had been the only two people who knew where she was from. Nicky was the only one she'd ever told voluntarily. The bartender had stopped pacing long enough to tell Rosa where to go. It was a three day ride north and west, though they could make it in two if they rode hard enough.

They would've preferred to ride full speed, but Rosa had decided it wouldn't be wise. The men they were following knew that Blanca had taken out one of their own, and had to assume that she had survived at least long enough to inform someone Lorna had been taken. They had a five hour head start and knowledge of the terrain. They had to be wary of ambush, or at the very least of the men watching them or sending someone ahead to gather reinforcements.

It was only noon of the first day out from Haven, and Rosa was already wishing that Blanca hadn't been injured. Blanca was their best tracker, and while she was slightly unhinged sometimes with her wild eyes and her tangled hair and her penchant for just saying things at random in Spanish, she had the virtue of always doing what Rosa told her to, immediately and without question. Maria Ruiz was a different animal altogether. Almost as good a tracker as Blanca, and an even better fighter, but churlish and argumentative and headstrong in a way that was constantly making Rosa question taking her on. She was also generally temperamental, always suspicious, and didn't suffer those she thought of as fools.

These tendencies had gotten better over the near decade since she had joined Rosa as an angry 15 year old (father dead, mother useless), and Maria always did what Rosa told her to eventually, but there was still that stubborn streak to her. That part of her that had to try to challenge Rosa before she finally conceded.

Right now she was glaring at Alex as they trotted at a brisk pace through the bleak, flat plains towards the rolling foothills to the north where the men who'd taken Lorna would likely be trying to lose themselves. Maria had never really trusted Alex. Five years had passed since they'd saved her life, and Maria still could never relax in her presence. She hadn't wanted Alex to come along, had argued against it long and hard... and she wasn't that much happier about Cindy.

Cindy with her amiable nature, Cindy who never seemed to be taking anything seriously at all was the exact opposite of Maria, always quick with a huge smile and a laugh that matched her stature. Currently she was prodding Alex about the nature of her relationship with Piper Chapman, all amused disbelief. Maria's teeth were grinding at the constant chatter. Rosa was keeping an eye on her to make sure she didn't try to kill anyone (she was less afraid that Maria would succeed than that Alex would take drastic steps to retaliate).

"So y'all ain't never even... thought about a man?"

Alex, actually thankful for the constant talk (it was keeping her from dwelling on the fact she was getting farther away from Piper with every passing mile, that riding into the unknown always carried the risk that she might not be riding back upright), was half smiling as she kept her keen eyes trained on the territory in front of them. It was a fairly flat stretch of land, and it would be easy enough to see someone coming, but that was no excuse to drop her guard.

"Nope," she said.

"So you sayin' you just don't like 'em at all...? Not even a little tiny bit?"

Alex half smiled, "I mean, I like 'em, I've known a few pretty decent fellas in my time. I've just got no interest in lettin' their pricks anywhere near me."

Cindy shook her head, frowning, "Don't make no sense..."

"Jesus Hayes, you ever shut up?" Maria snapped irritably.

"No, Ruiz, I don't... don't you think you oughta know that by now?" Cindy looked back at Alex, "And you an' Chapman, you just..." she took her hands off her reins, making a vague gesture that Alex assumed was meant to be sexual, "... with one another...?"

"Yup," Alex answered. Normally she would've told anyone who asked about this to fuck off, but she'd known Cindy since they were little more than dumb kids with punching one another in the arm or jumping out of the hay loft in the barn while everyone else was doing actual work. Cindy was one of the few people who'd never looked at her any different when she came back to Haven, and Alex knew she usually meant well. Besides, it wasn't as though she and Piper were some sort of big secret around town.

"How's that even work... I mean how..."

"Cindy... I ain't gonna give you lessons," Alex laughed.

"And I don't wanna hear that bullshit anyway," snapped Maria.

Alex's expression hardened as she looked at Maria. "Don't think I was fuckin' talkin' to you, Maria," she said, voice flat and calm, "Though I'm thinkin' you might be in need of a good vigorous fuck... might dislodge that stick from up your..."

"ENOUGH!" snapped Rosa. "We got purpose here, and it ain't you idiots workin' through all your fuckin' issues. Focus on the god damn matter at hand." They all went silent immediately, even Alex. Rosa spurred her mount on a little faster... if they rode at a gallop conversation would be more difficult. She shook her head in exasperation... like fuckin' children. Hopefully this blasted endeavor wouldn't take long... she wasn't sure how long she could take this before she shot them all herself.

DAY 3

Once they were in the foothills, there was more cover, and the bounty hunters who had taken Lorna were leaving a more obvious trail, although they were doing their best to conceal it. Maria started tracking and stopped worrying about Cindy and Alex as she concentrated on her work. She almost lost their prey a couple times, but her father (half Sioux and the best tracker Rosa had ever known) had taught her well. In the end, it took less time to find them than Rosa had worried it might.

It was just after sundown on the third day after leaving Haven when they caught up with them. They had crossed over into Cara County, which the MacLarens ran with an iron fist, near noon, and had been proceeding a little more cautiously, trying not to stir up any trouble. Maria tracked them to a gully (big enough that it was almost a canyon) that was shaped like a crescent. The open part of the gully faced North, towards Carenton, the town Lorna'd come from. Backed up against the rounded part of it (the cliff above perhaps 60 feet high all around and sloping at about a 30 degree angle down) was a sturdily constructed one story cabin.

There were four horses tied to the hitching post in front of the cabin and smoke coming from the chimney. Rosa, Maria and Alex dismounted and crept to the edge of the gully. Cindy stayed on her horse, pulling her rifle from her saddle holster and keeping watch.

They'd been observing the scene for maybe a half hour, trying to assess the situation (they figured there were probably four bounty hunters, but wanted to confirm it), when two riders entered the gully, heading straight for the cabin. The two of them dismounted and tied their horses to the post. One of them was presumably Christopher MarLaren (prince of Cara County, Alex thought with a snort) given how he was dressed and carried himself. The other was dressed well, but his bearing and his sheer size marked him as a bodyguard. Christopher nodded to the bounty hunter who'd been walking sentry outside the cabin, then the two newcomers entered the cabin.

About ten minutes passed and then three men walked out of the cabin. They didn't immediately mount back up, which indicated they had been sent out to keep watch while Christopher did whatever he was going to do inside. The four women lay on their bellies looking down at the scene (lit by a half moon) concealed by scrub brush and shadows.

"Makes four outside, two in," muttered Rosa, frowning.

"How do we know there aren't more of the bounty hunters inside?" Maria asked in Spanish.

"Four horses," Alex replied, also in Spanish, knowing that Maria did shit like that just to try to exclude people from her conversations with Rosa. Alex was in no mood for bullshit, not with the end of this thing so near, "Plus, men like MacLaren don't want outsiders witnessing his personal business, especially if he means to do violence."

"'Spose you would know," Maria said under her breath. The muscle in Alex's jaw twitched, but she didn't take the bait.

She had her rifle out and was eyeing the men through the scope. They all appeared to be professionals. None of them slovenly or drunk or loud. There was an almost military efficiency and discipline in their movements. They had made a fire some way from the cabin. Three of them were sitting around it, preparing to make their supper, the fourth was continuing his slow circuit around the perimeter, although now he circled farther away from the house, his rifle over his arm. They would have to be taken care of before they could get to Lorna and the men inside.

Alex would've liked to have taken them out with her rifle. She was fast and accurate; the last man would have a bullet in him before the first one even had a chance to hit the ground properly, but it wasn't practical. There was no way it'd be quiet, and they absolutely had to be both. There was no telling what Christopher might do to Lorna if he was alerted to their presence. Rosa quietly laid out a plan and they all nodded tersely, even Maria.

They crawled back down the ridge until they were far enough down that they could stand up again. Cindy and Maria went to take their places and await Rosa's signal. Rosa glanced at Alex, seeing something in her expression that gave her pause. "You all right with this, Vause?"

Alex nodded once, short and sharp, "I reckon."

"Ain't no need for killin', least til we get inside, least as long as we all do our part…"

Another nod, "I know."

Rosa looked at her for another long moment and then nodded back, "All right. Let's go down there and get our girl..."

The bounty hunters were easy. They were good, but they were also relaxed and getting tired after days on end of riding. The four women fell upon them simultaneously, having crept down the shadowed side of the gully. They'd waited until the sentry was as far as he could get from the fire and the house. Alex took care of him, trying to ignore the rush of exhilaration she felt as she sprang out from behind the tree was using for cover, grabbing him in a chokehold, bracing her forearm over his throat, waiting until he went limp in her arms.

the adrenaline had been ramping up since she came down the hill... since she had ridden out from Haven really (the adrenaline and the dread)... the man had been the first person she'd touched in anger for years and it felt so natural it sent a thrill of terror up her spine... she tried not to think on it too hard, instead grabbing the man under his arms and dragging him over to the fire, where Rosa and the others had made short work of the other men. Cindy trussed them all up (she could rope anything fast and secure), then Rosa looked to each of them in turn, silently asking if they were ready. They all nodded. Then they turned and headed for the house.

The cabin had a front porch and a back entrance. There were windows set in the side. Rosa deployed Cindy to the front and Maria to the back, then took Alex with her to see what they could see through the windows. They looked inside and Alex felt her stomach turn and her anger spike. Christopher was looming over Lorna, who was on the floor. He had his jacket off and his shirtsleeves rolled up and he was doing a thorough job of beating her bloody.

Rosa's eyes narrowed, her mouth tightening, "Motherfucker…"

The bodyguard was leaning on the wall near the back door, watching impassively. There was a bedroom off the main room on the opposite side of the house from where they were. That door was closer to Lorna and Christopher than the front or back. "Vause, circle to the bedroom, come in through there… we'll come in on your shout…"

Alex didn't reply. Rosa looked over at her. Alex's gaze was tight and narrow, her eyes focused with deadly intensity on Christopher, filled with anger, promising violence, the muscle in her jaw twitching, her hand gripping the handle of her pistol. Rosa didn't like the look, but she didn't have a lot of time to consider the implications.

"Vause," she said more forcefully, putting a hand on Alex's arm.

Alex's head snapped towards her, fast, her arm wrenching away from the touch… but her eyes seemed to clear a little when she saw Rosa.

"You hear what I said?"

Alex nodded, her voice rough, just the slightest bit shakey, when she spoke, "Yeah. Window. Bedroom. Shout."

"Then go. From the looks of things, Lorna don't have a whole lot of time…"

Without another word, Alex crept away, towards the other side of the house, fast and silent as a wolf. Rosa went to tell Cindy and then Maria the plan… hoping Alex could control whatever inner demon they had stirred by bringing her here…

Everything went to plan. Alex crept through the window and charged Christopher, tackling him shoulder first, knocking the wind out of him and bearing him to the ground with a yell. The shout brought Rosa and Maria crashing through the back door just as the bodyguard (6'5" if he was an inch and broad as a barn) was stirring to reach for his gun.

The bodyguard managed to punch Maria, but Rosa ducked the blow he tried to turn her way. She kicked him squarely in the balls, he doubled over and she went to smash her elbow into the back of his neck, but he pulled up suddenly, the back of his head catching Rosa under the chin, knocking her flat. Maria charged him now, but he closed his meathook of a right hand around her throat, lifting her up and driving his left fist into her belly once, twice… driving the air out of her lungs as the hand around her throat tightened. Maria was gasping and turning purple by the time Rosa put a bullet into the man's arm. He cried out dropping, Maria, then turned towards Rosa, who calmly put her other five rounds into the center of his chest. The man fell to the ground with a thud, wheezing wetly, blood soaking his fine jacket. Rosa calmly pulled her other pistol and put a bullet in his throat, then went over to where Maria was lying, trying to get her breath back to help her up. The whole fight took less than a minute.

Cindy had come in the front door on cue. The scene was chaotic. Rosa and Maria were fighting the bodyguard, Alex was on top of Christopher, punching him in the face as the man fended off her blows and swore at her. As much as she wanted to help them, Rosa's instructions had been clear: make sure Lorna was safe, no matter what else was going on. Once she determined there were no more of Christopher's men hiding in the shadows, Cindy slid her rifle into the holster on her back and headed for Lorna, who was lying in a heap on the floor, trying her damndest to push herself up.

Cindy knelt beside her, "Fuck…" she said. Lorna was in sorry shape. The bastard had only been on her for fifteen minutes and her face was a mess, her arms covered with bruises. Cindy's expression darkened. That motherfucker… Her attention shifted to Lorna as she realized the girl was crying, heaving, relieved sobs that hitched halfway through (the bastard had probably broken her ribs) "You okay now, Morello," she said reassuringly, "we here now… we got you…" Gently she put one arm around Lorna's shoulders and the other under her legs and picked her up moving her back, away from the fighting. She set her carefully on the bed in the other room, and then knelt by her side to assess her injuries, hating Christopher with every new one she counted up… hoping that Alex was beating the smug fucker's face in as painfully as possible.

Christopher was a bully but unlike most of his kind, he was also quite capable of holding his own in a fight. He surprised Alex by actually having some skill. She had figured that since he wandered around with a mountain like the fella Rosa had just filled full of lead, he must not know shit about helping himself.

She had underestimated him and it had cost her. He'd managed to get leverage and buck her off of him, and had then gotten in a couple of good blows to her face, and had kicked her in the ribs good and hard once as well. But that had just gotten her riled up. The adrenaline had kicked in... the old feeling of power, the thrill of letting the beast that lived inside of her (the one that she had spent five years tamping down and ignoring, the one that had been soothed for so long by the comfort she took from Piper's mere presence) take her over.

She staggered back when Christopher kicked her but didn't fall down. He advanced, guard up, already throwing another punch while she was doubled over... but she was too fast for him, especially now that the rush had taken her over. She straightened and ducked out of his way swiftly, causing his fist to hit nothing but air, his momentum carrying him towards the floor. Alex brought her knee up and smashed it into his midsection, knocking his wind out before he could recover his balance. He made a grunting noise and went flying backwards.

Alex's hand shot out and caught him by the front of his jacket, yanking him forward and meeting the bridge of his nose with the hard part of her head. He cried out, his hands coming up on instinct to cover his nose, which was now spurting blood, but Alex knocked them away and punched him hard in the face with her right hand while her left still gripped his jacket. Once, twice, three times, before driving him back into the wall with such force that the books on the shelf nearby toppled over. His head hit the wall with a satisfying THUNK. She repeated the motion once more, bouncing his head off the wall even harder. By now, his eyes were rolling back in his head and his breathing was getting shallow. She reached down and pulled the pistol from her right hip pushing the barrel up under Christopher's chin, cocking the hammer back...

Her heart was beating fast, her blood was rushing through her veins, everything about her felt lighter, stronger... for the first time in years she felt as though everything had come into sharp focus… she felt like she could do anything.

When Fahri had first stumbled upon her, her entire life had been spinning out of control. Her mother was dead, she had abandoned everything and everyone she had ever known or cared about... she was adrift on a sea of despair and grief and anger, the rage (at her mother for dying, at herself for not being able to save her, at Celeste for stopping her from truly trying...) consumed everything. The only things that could quiet the constant turmoil in her head were alcohol... and violence. Back in the beginning, it was about control, about the power she had over another person... it was within her power to choose whether they lived or died, and she almost always chose death, because she had mistakenly believed that that by exercising that control, pulling the trigger over and over again, she could finally take charge of something in her life.

Eventually she had learned that it was all an illusion, that the rage was controlling her rather than the other way around. It had been a terrifying revelation, and it had been part of the reason she had stopped being able to do it anymore...

But this was different wasn't it? This wasn't some rival of Kubra's she was being told to kill, some innocent she was being ordered to rough up. It was a man who had been beating Lorna bloody when she'd first burst through the door, a man who would gladly have done worse and was likely planning to. All of a sudden, she heard Piper's voice, low and quiet, telling her about the things she'd done back in Boston, the ones that had caused... how she'd felt scared of herself of her own actions... how she hadn't even been able to recognize herself.. how she'd never wanted to feel that way again...

What would Piper think of her if she did this? Piper had never seen known Alex this way. She had met her after she had resolved never to do this again... Piper had been part of the reason she hadn't wanted to do this again... she hadn't needed this, any of it, in so long because she had Piper...

She felt herself calming down, the adrenaline fading... she still felt it... the pull of it, the persistent tugging at the back of her brain telling her to pull the trigger, practically taunting her with the promise of how good it would feel. And the bitch of it was that it would feel good, at least for a split second.

Frowning, she lowered her gun and tossed the man to the ground, hard. He landed in a barely coherent heap. His face was a mess, and she was sure she'd broken a few ribs and maybe even cracked his skull... but he was alive.

She took a step backwards, distancing herself from him. The rush of blood to her ears faded and she heard Rosa, "Vause... this ain't like those men outside... they were mercenaries, they don't give a fuck about this prick or what he wants... but him... you know we can't let him live... you know he'll never give up..." (Alex started at the sound of Rosa's voice... she'd nearly forgotten that anyone else was there... she cut her eyes to her right... Rosa was kneeling next to Maria, who was leaning against the wall beside the back door, massaging her throat...)

Maria, speaking Spanish, her voice tortured, rasping, but the anger in it obvious, "The murderer finally gets a chance to kill someone who deserves it and she turns into a fucking coward...?"

Cindy, from somewhere behind her, responding in English, "Oh fuck no, Maria, you don't get to crawl up her ass since the second you first saw her for killin' folks, and then tell her it ain't okay for her to decide not to now..."

"Fuck you, puta, you think she's a god damn puppy dog. You want to pretend like it's all right she won't kill this motherfucker when she's a fuckin' god damn killer who snap at any time and put everyone in our town in danger you go right on ahead..."

"Only one she be a danger to is them that deserves it..."

Alex straightened up, letting the argument wash in waves around her, feeling strangely at peace with her decision, even as she tried to drown out the voices in her own head... her pistol was still clutched loosely in her right hand, hanging by her side. She was just considering putting it back it when suddenly she felt her left hand gun being pulled out of its holster. On instinct, her hand shot out and grabbed onto the wrist of the person who'd grabbed her gun, turning her head as she did so...

... and setting eyes on Lorna, who transferred the gun from her right hand (the one Alex had in her grip) to her left. Before anyone could react, she pulled back the hammer, pointed the gun and shot Christopher MacLaren dead in the center of his forehead.

The sound of the gunshot was deafening in the enclosed space. Silence fell upon them as it faded away, all of them staring at Lorna, who was looking down at Christopher. The whole left side of her face was one giant bruise, her left eye swollen shut, and she was half hunched over (her own ribs probably broken). But there was a fierce look in her right eye, fire blazing in it as she stared down at the dead man at her feet. She considered him for a long moment. Then she drew back her foot, kicked him in the ribs hard, and pivoted to place the gun back in Alex's holster. She looked up at Alex. "Let's get the fuck out of here..." she said, voice firm and unwavering, then she turned, her wrist sliding easily out of Alex's slack grip, and limped painfully towards the door...

PART II- No Safe Haven, or When a Stranger Calls

DAY 4

Alex had been gone for nearly three days and Piper had spent the entire time in a state of distracted anxiety. During the day, she poured herself into tasks around the ranch, tending to the animals and the house, and helping Ford do long needed repairs to the barn that she'd been putting off until the weather got better (repairs so extensive he brought one of his girls, Tasha, down with him). When the sun went down, she accompanied Ford and Tasha back into town and then went to spend the evening at Red's.

She drank more than was advisable, more than she had since she had left Boston. She was well aware what alcohol would do to her… however, Alex's absence and the anxiety surrounding it was making her crave the careless oblivion she knew too much drink would bring. She was tempted more than once to bring herself over that edge, but every time she contemplated overindulging, she had a flash of a bloodied face beneath her hands and she refrained. (Even if she hadn't been in control of her own urges, she knew Nicky was watching her like a hawk, having promised Alex that she would do what she could to look after Piper to the degree that she could).

And Nicky would commiserate with her as well. Nicky was practically thrumming with anxiety over Lorna, cursing her weak heart and smoking roll up after roll up, lamenting the fact that Red wouldn't let her take opium anymore. Nicky's state of turmoil had the rather odd effect of keeping Piper grounded (and also helped her push past any resentment she might initially have felt about Nicky technically being responsible for Alex having to leave in the first place). It helped her to think she wasn't the only one with someone to worry over, and it made her want to comfort and reassure Nicky, who would then do the same for her. They kept one another from going down paths neither wanted to contemplate, and away from their drugs of choice.

"Vause is a tough shit, Blondie," Nicky said, "And Rosa didn't live this long without knowing what the fuck she's doing. She and that gang of hers are the best…" And they would both repeat that mantra until it got too late and they got too exhausted.

Although she didn't drink enough to send her into her Dark Place, Piper often had enough to give herself a headache in the morning. Breakfast and some good honest work were enough to take care of it, normally, but the first hour of the day had been proving a challenge.

On the morning of the fourth day, Piper was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a cup of coffee and considering what she might eat for breakfast when there was a knock on the door. She frowned. She wasn't expecting anyone. It was just a tick after 5am, the sky barely beginning to lighten, too early for social calls, and Ford and Tasha weren't supposed to show for another half an hour.

Frowning, she stood and walked towards the door. The gun belt Alex had had made for her was hanging on its nail next to the door, the pearl handled revolver Nicky had given her as a gift for her birthday last year nestled inside it, loaded and ready. Piper wasn't terribly fond of firearms, but after spending so many years here, she had learned that they were a necessary evil. This was not Boston. This was the West. Haven was as safe as anyplace out here, at least for its residents, but that didn't mean there weren't threats. Alex had been quite clear years ago that she wouldn't leave Piper alone on the ranch unless she learned to use both rifle and pistol, and so Piper had acquiesced reluctantly. Alex had taught her everything there was to know about their use, and although Piper loathed the thought of having to utilize them against a living person, she admitted that she had felt a surge of intense pride the first time that she had shot the cans off the fence in the pasture (and she certainly couldn't complain about the way Alex had expressed her approval of and pride in Piper's quick learning).

She quietly drew the gun from the holster and angled herself so that her right side of her body was behind the door. Her visitors would not be able to see it when she opened the door.

The man who stood on the porch was slightly shorter than her and dressed impeccably in a tailored suit. He had was of average build and his skin was the color of burnished leather. His dark black hair was receding slightly but neatly combed and he had a well groomed mustache. Behind him, by the light of the slowly rising sun, she could see two other men, just outside her front gate, mounted on their horses, holding this man's mount by the reins.

"Good afternoon, ma'am," said the man, his voice smooth and cordial, laced with a melodic accent she couldn't immediately identify, "My name is Fahri, and I am looking for an associate of mine that I have lost touch with. I was told that I might find her in this area, and I was wondering if you could assist me?"

Piper tilted her head, examining him carefully. The man was nothing but mild curiosity and extreme politeness, but Piper had lived amongst the masters of Boston for nearly her entire life. She had seen exactly how much deception one person could hold. She had seen it in her own father more times than she cared to recall. Men such as this were never precisely what they seemed, no matter how charming their smiles… Haven was 20 miles from Litchfield, the nearest town of any real size. It was a considerable distance to come on a whim, or a hint. "I'd be happy to help if I can…" she said, putting on her own bright, polite smile, the one that had always pleased her parents.

"Ah, excellent. My friend is tall, taller than you even. Long dark hair. Green eyes, eyeglasses. Her name is Alex Vause. I have not seen her in many years, but a mutual friend of ours has passed and I thought she would wish to know."

It took everything in her power, all of the skills she had learned during her years living with her parents (perhaps the only things of use that they had given her), for Piper school her reaction when it became clear who he was describing. By the time he got to Alex's name a sick sort of dread had built in her stomach. Alex had never been particularly detailed about the men she had ridden with, she didn't talk about it much at all these days at all, but Piper knew Kubra's name and that he was foreign, probably from the Middle East somewhere. She had encounter a few Persian gentlemen back in Boston, polite and well mannered fellows who had worked with her father on export deals. They looked and acted much like this Fahri did.

"I'm afraid I can't help you, Mister..."

"Please, just Fahri..."

"Very well. I'm afraid I can't help you, Fahri. I don't think I've seen someone matching that description."

"You are sure?"

"We don't get many visitors out this way, I'm afraid. I'm sure I would remember such a person."

The man held her gaze for a long moment. His polite smile never faded, his pleasant manner never wavered, there wasn't really anything in his eyes that would indicate anything was wrong, but Piper could tell she was being read, assessed, scrutinized. It was a look she had seen many a time from her own mother, not something she had had to endure for a good long while. It had been years since she had felt the need to deceive someone. Knowing this man was looking for Alex, knowing that he was from Kubra... she hoped she was up to the task.

Finally, he cut his eyes out to the house behind her, "Very well... should she ride through, perhaps you will mention my visit?"

"Of course," she said, smiling, "Although I can't see why she would stop here."

He nodded, "No most likely not. I always like to think of all eventualities." He inclined his head as he put his hat back on, putting two fingers to the brim in a gesture so reminiscent of how Alex did it, Piper nearly gasped. Then he turned and walked back to his horse. He mounted it and trotted back up towards town. Piper watched him for a long moment before going inside and collapsing into the armchair in the front room.

She put her head in her hands and took several deep heaving breaths. Jesus... All these years, Alex had been sure Kubra had stopped looking, had been sure he thought her dead. And now...

Piper could only hope that what she had said would put him off... and that everyone else in town would do the same.

The day had not been a productive one. Starting with the blonde woman at the ranch on the town's Western edge, the residents of this place had been precisely like the residents of the other two towns they had already canvassed (which could barely be called 'towns', more like settlements... Haven was the largest of them with a population of about fifty). The only difference was that most of the residents of this town were women. However, they were still like the others. Polite, wary, and entirely sure they hadn't seen or heard of Alex Vause.

It was nearly noon now, and Fahri thought they might be able to make the next town over within two hours if they left now and rode at a steady pace. Ahmad complained lightly of not stopping for lunch, but Fahri silenced him with a stern look, "This is important business that must be done quickly, Ahmad. Your stomach is a bottomless pit and it can wait until Mars Creek, understood?"

Ahmad, never one to miss a meal, grimaced but nodded.

Because of the location of the last town and the next one, they had entered Haven from the West, which was why the ranch house was the first place they'd stopped, and were leaving from the eastern edge. They would ride north and slightly east once they got out of town. As they reached the Eastern edge of town, the cemetery appeared off to the left, up on a gentle rise, surrounded by a low wooden fence. The fence had an entry gate with a sign nailed into it that identified it (in a marginally clever way) as "Haven's Gate".

Fahri slowed his horse and the others followed suit. They had been checking the graveyards of every town as well, even the one in New Litchfield. Fahri still wasn't entirely certain that Little Joel had been altogether honest with him, that perhaps his description was off, or his addled brain hadn't perceived something incorrectly. He knew it was unlikely, but perhaps Vause had died out here and was buried somewhere. A longshot perhaps, but he would not be easily forgiven if he missed something so easy to verify.

So he and the others dismounted and opened the creaking gate into the yard. They walked through the yard, glancing down at the names on the haphazardly arranged collection of wooden crosses with a few actual stones mixed throughout. They were nearly to the back of the small yard when Aydin called over, "Fahri... something you should see..."

Fahri walked over to where Aydin stood in front of one of the few grave markers in the small yard made out of stone. The stone was somewhat faded, but Fahri could clearly read the name. "Diane Vause..." he muttered. The date of death was a little over eleven years ago... He frowned, eyes narrowing.

Alex had never really talked to any of them, preferring to drink alone until she passed out, or to drink until she got ornery and picked a fight with one of the others that she would inevitably win. Fahri was the only one she really talked to, and then only when she had drunk just enough to get melancholy and sad rather than angry and violent (it was a delicate balance). He recalled her mentioning that her mother had died, that Alex had tried to rescue her but that the old lady who had helped raise her (the one her mother worked for... the one who owned the ranch they'd lived on) had stopped her. It was why she had the scars on her arm...

These sorts of admissions had all come late at night and were almost always jumbled and semi-coherent, memories jumbled and overlapping, bleeding into one another in a way that made sense only to her. It was only because he had seen her this way so many times that he could put together even half the story. She never gave any names, never said where she was from, and in the light of day, after she'd sobered up, she would never say a thing about it. But Vause wasn't a common name... and 11 years would've been near the time when her mother supposedly died, right before he had found her...

... her mother worked on a ranch...

…but the ranch had been owned by an older woman and her husband, as he recalled... and the woman who'd opened the door to him this morning had certainly been no older than her mid twenties at the very most...

Fahri turned to Aydin, "Do you remember the name of the ranch we were on this morning? There was a sign, by the gate I think...?"

Aydin nodded, "Chapman. The sign said 'Chapman'."

Fahri began another slow circuit of the graveyard and came upon another stone. Larger this time. One side was inscribed with the name "DANIEL CHAPMAN" and on the other, "CELESTE CHAPMAN". They'd both died five years ago, the man in the late summer, the woman in the dead of winter. If Fahri recalled correctly, that had been the worst winter in a hundred years... the winter of the big storm... the winter after Kubra had killed Vause...

Fahri set his jaw and walked with long strides back out to his horse. He mounted up and then turned back towards the west. Aydin frowned, "Fahri, what...?"

"I believe I have been lied to," Fahri said simply.

Ford and Tasha had gone back up to town just before lunch. Miss Berdie needed their help with a project at the livery, and there'd been some chores Piper needed to get done anyway. She was out in front of the house hanging clothes up on the line when she saw the three men crest the hill from the direction of town. She frowned. God damn it...

She continued to hang the clothes methodically as she watched them approach. When they got to the front gate, Fahri dismounted once more. This time the skinny fellow with curly black hair and a small splinter of wood hanging out of the corner of his mouth got off his horse as well and trailed after him.

Fahri smiled at her amiably, "Hello again, Miss Chapman. May I come in?" he gestured to the gate separating the road from the yard of the house.

Piper smiled amiably and nodded. What choice did she have?

He approached, looking around the yard. There was something different about the way he was looking around now. The polite curiosity of the morning was gone, replaced by careful scrutiny. The man with him was doing much the same. Piper was suddenly glad that the laundry she was hanging was mostly sheets and her own clothing. None of it was Alex's. As long as they didn't go further into the house or stables they would see few signs of her.

After he finished studying the yard, he turned to her and said, tone never wavering, "This is an interesting town, Miss Chapman. Most interesting. Such fascinating people. I went around to every house and storefront in town, and, perhaps to no one's surprise, they all said much the same as you. They did not know my friend. Had never seen her. It was quite discouraging, as I was most eager to speak to her. I was quite ready to throw my hands up in defeat, to leave… in fact, I was riding towards the edge of town… but then I saw the graveyard…"

Piper was determined not to flinch. He was likely telling her the story to see if her reaction would change, if her expression might waver. She held his eyes, the same smile of placid inquiry on her face.

"I would not call myself a morbid man by any means, but I have found that the dead have a much harder time lying to me than the living. And so I make it my custom to tour churchyards when I am making inquiries, just to see if there is something that the living may have neglected to mention…"

"That seems a morbid practice," she said, chuckling.

His smile widened, "Perhaps. But often effective," his eyes hadn't left her once since he began talking. Now his gaze seemed to intensify, as though he were digging into her brain, "For instance, I found a grave stone there for a Diane Vause…"

"Vause? Isn't that the name of your friend?"

"Indeed it is. Now, admittedly, she was not forthcoming about her past when she was with me, but she mentioned a mother. A mother who would have died around the time this Diane Vause did. A mother who lived and worked on a ranch…"

"Interesting."

"And this is the closest ranch to the town, is it not?"

"I believe we are the closest yes. Although the Regnery place is only five miles down the road."

"Another thing my friend Alex told me was that the ranch she worked on was owned by an older couple, people she thought of as family…"

From what Alex had told her of her time with Kubra, she hadn't been particularly forthcoming with information about her past. "They never knew a damn thing about me, Pipes, not anything really important. None of them cared enough to ask, but I doubt I'd've told 'em even if they did…" Piper wasn't at all sure how this man Fahri knew these things. But Alex had spent much of her time with Kubra intoxicated, on alcohol or worse… Piper supposed it was possible she might have let bits and pieces of information slip to this man. Lord knew that Piper was aware just how jumbled things got when one drank too much. Whatever the case, this man was not grasping for straws, he knew things…

…and he wouldn't be at her doorstep unless he strongly suspected Piper had lied to him… her mind began moving a mile a minute. The man was suspicious enough that even if she didn't admit anything to him now, he would likely insist on looking at the house, and given that she was alone and he had two men with him, both of whom looked as though physical violence was something they were intimately familiar with dealing out, she would not have much choice in the matter...

"… and interestingly enough there were two other graves up there… a Daniel and Celeste Chapman… any relation of yours, Miss Chapman?"

"My grandparents," she admitted.

Fahri's smile widened minutely, "Ah, the truth. That is most refreshing," he inclined his head slightly, "Perhaps you would like to… correct… the statements you made to me this morning?"

There was a long moment of silence, Fahri holding her gaze. Piper made a decision.

She hardened her expression and leaned back down to the basket of laundry, which she had been neglecting since Fahri walked up. She pinned shirt up to the line and shook her head, "Not really," she said, her tone sour, "but I don't suppose you'll stop asking until I do."

The man seemed mildly surprised by her change in attitude, "Have I upset you?"

Piper took a step to the left and picked up a pair of pants. She was frowning now, her expression put upon, annoyed. She added a large dose of arrogance to her tone, as though this whole conversation was unworthy of her, "People who come around inquiring about things, about people, that should remain in the past upset me. I was rather hoping I would avoid having to go into the matter."

"So you do know the name?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, "Yes, I know the name. It's one I never wished to hear again, if you must know. It does not conjure particularly pleasant memories."

He raised an eyebrow, "Is that so?"

Piper finished hanging up the pants and crossed her arms over her chest, raising herself to her full height and putting every bit of her 18 years of Boston upbringing into the long, contemptuous look she gave him. Her tone when she spoke was imperious, "I'm not entirely sure the nature of my past is any of your business, sir. But yes, I knew her. And before you ask again, I don't know where she is now, and quite frankly I'm thankful for it."

"So you claim."

"Are you calling me a liar?" Piper asked, tone mortally offended.

Fahri shrugged easily, seemingly unfazed by her attitude, "You lied to me before, Miss Chapman. It can't surprise you that I might not believe you now."

Piper frowned, "Is it difficult to believe that I might not want to share such information with you, sir?" She raised a rather haughty eyebrow, channeling her mother, "You showed up on my doorstep at five in the morning asking questions about someone who hurt me, and my grandmother, worse than anyone ever has or will. It's not my custom to discuss such matters with strangers who show up on my porch without preamble or formal introduction. So, yes, I was compelled to tell a half truth."

"So she is not here?"

"I believe I made that clear," she was glaring at him now.

"When was the last time you saw her?"

"Just before my grandmother passed. She came back after a long absence some five years ago. I had just moved here to help my grandmother after my grandfather died. I met her… I became… quite close to her," Her voice cracked and trailed off as she said the last words. She took a deep breath and made sure it hitched at the end, conjuring up the barest shine to her eyes, tears held at the edges, threatening to fall… it was a technique she found made some men distinctly uncomfortable. Fahri kept his expression neutral, but he barest of grimaces passed over his face at the thought she might cry.

Piper looked down at the grass in front of her feet, breathing deep, as though trying to gather herself. She ran one hand over her face and took a last soothing breath before looking at him, her eyes still shining. Her voice was steady when she spoke again, but there were echoes of anger and grief just beneath the surface, threatening to come out at the barest provocation, "And then she left me… just before the long winter, ran away when I told her I lov…" Piper broke off, another deep breath, "The experience... was not a pleasant one. I was young. Naïve. I felt so humiliated... I didn't want to re-live it, or even think about it too hard."

"Did she perhaps break your heart?"

The boldness of the assertion surprised her (very few people, even out here, were intrepid enough to ask questions like that; most didn't want to know) and almost jolted her out of her act. Piper felt herself reddening, offended at the mere thought that Alex would do so, no matter what the lies she was weaving were meant to indicate. Luckily, the man took it for embarrassment rather than anger. She didn't respond. Letting the storm tossed look in her eyes do the talking for her.

Fahri nodded gravely, reading exactly what she wanted him to in her expression, "Do not worry, she was known to do that to many a young girl when... I knew her before. Would promise the world and then," he spread his hands, "gone in the morning... she was fortunate that it did not result in her death."

Inside, a part of her was wincing at hearing about such things. Alex had always been honest about every aspect of her past, including her past lovers. It was almost worse for Piper to hear about them than about the people Alex had hurt and killed, but ultimately Piper accepted that Alex had been a different person then, and that now she had no need for anything or anyone else. But that didn't make it all right for this man to speak of it as though it were yesterday.

However, she schooled her features, tamed her natural reaction. If this deception were to work, a delicate line must be walked. The indignant eyebrow rose again, she drew herself up to her full height again, ramrod straight, her tone as expressive as her eyebrow, "Perhaps it would have been better if one of them had killed her," she looked at him, frowning, "I must renew my objections, sir. I do not appreciate you dredging up the past this way. When I told you what I did before, it was because I didn't wish to think of such matters again. It took a very long time to recover from... what happened."

She could see him considering his options, turning things over in his head, deciding whether to push her any further, ask her for more details. Deciding to push him in the right direction, she allowed her lower lip to tremble… ever so faintly…

He put a sympathetic expression on, "Ah, well. I apologize for making you dredge up the past, Miss Chapman," he inclined his head, "I don't think it will be necessary for us to trouble you again."

Piper acted as though she were pulling herself together, bringing herself back from the pit of bad memories he had pushed her towards. She smoothed out her features again, and bent to pick up more laundry, going back to the task he had interrupted, "I should hope not. Good day to you, Mr…" she trailed off, then huffed a humorless laugh, "good day…"

He put his fingers to the brim of his hat again, then turned at walked towards the gate. His companion looked at her for a moment longer, then followed.

She watched them mount up and ride back toward town. This time, when they crested the ridge, she didn't feel any sort of relief. She wouldn't feel that until she knew they had left town for good.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Aydin turned to Fahri, "Do you believe her, boss?"

"It seems likely enough, and I have seen that look on many a woman's face before. Usually young and pretty, like that one. She is most certainly the type Vause would have set her eye on," he had a thoughtful look on his face, "I really should have suspected. A town whole town full of women… the exact sort of pond she would be like to fish in… and exactly the sort of place I can see her getting run out of… or trying to escape when someone got too close…"

Aydin frowned, "Vause never seemed the type who would be intimidated. You would not think she would run from a woman."

A small smile appeared on Fahri's face as he remembered the fire the woman had been shooting out of her eyes at him when she spoke of how grievously he had offended her, "Oh I don't know, Aydin. I would wager that woman has a very singular temper. I would not ever wish to be on her bad side…"

It was near on seven and the atmosphere at Red's was subdued, as it always tended to be when dangerous strangers were in town. Piper was sitting at the bar and had been for an hour, trying to read a book, but she could practically feel Fahri's eyes boring into her back (he was seated near the empty stage with his two companions, out of earshot of the other patrons). Had she known he was going to be here, she would have stayed at home for supper, but she couldn't well walk out the second she walked in. Nicky brought her a glass of wine as soon as she'd sat down and leaned in, "He's gotten rooms for the three of them."

"What?"

"He spent half the day going back and asking everyone the same questions he asked the first time. No one was quite sure why but then he mentioned you and Vause to the Nun and she caught on to the line of bullshit you'd been sellin'. She'd gotten him to stay for tea and then had Jones go 'round and tell everyone to stick to the 'Vause broke Chapman's heart and took off' line."

"I wouldn't have thought he would tip his hand like that. He seems far too clever…"

"Oh he is. But the Nun ain't no slouch, you know that. Anyway, he went 'round to everyone, covered all the same territory. By the time he was done it was near on five, and I guess he and his boys was tired of ridin' and hadn't eaten since mornin'. They're stayin' the night."

"Wonderful."

"But, on the upside, they seem to have given up askin' questions, and they don't look too happy so…"

"Good…"

Nicky sighed, "Don't look so grim, Chapman… they'll be gone by mornin', hopefully early. And maybe tomorrow'll be the day we hear from Rosa or Vause about Lorna…"

Piper nodded, "Yes, hopefully." She took a sip of her wine and looked down at the book she wasn't reading, praying that Nicky was right… on both counts.

DAY 5

It was around 6am. Red and her husband Dmitri were in the bar, preparing for the day when Brook Soso from the general store (skinny, eager, always thrumming with energy) came bursting in. The store was also where the post was received, and where the telegraph was, so it wasn't necessarily unusual to have her wander in at random times

Red looked over at her, frowning, "Yes?"

Brook held up the piece of paper in her hand and said, in her usual cheery manner, "It's a telegraph from Miss Vause... she says she's gotten Miss Morello and that they couldn't come back right away because Miss Morello needed a doc pretty bad, and it took them a bit to find one because apparently they had to get out of the county they were in before they could stop and Miss Morello just kept getting worse till she collapsed and so they found one yesterday evening and this was the first chance Miss Vause had to cable because the telegraph office wasn't open until now but they'll be on their way sometime today and probably back within three and..."

All of this had come out in a rapid fire stream of words almost too fast for Red to keep up with. Dmitri had stopped paying attention and gone back polishing beer glasses when he saw it was Brook, because he always talked too fast for him to entirely comprehend.

Red held up a hand, "Stop!" she snapped.

Brook stopped abruptly, as though snapped out of a trance. Her mouth was always galloping ahead of her brain, so she was used to being stopped midsentence. Her expression turned sheepish, "Sorry..." she muttered.

Red sighed, "Do not be sorry. Be silent until I ask questions, da?"

Brook nodded, "Yes, Mrs. Reznikov."

"You have telegram, yes?"

A nod.

"It is from Vause, yes?"

Another nod.

Red held out her hand and gestured the girl forward. Brook advanced and put the telegram in Red's hand, then stayed standing there, rocking on the balls of her feet like she couldn't stay still. Red pulled her glasses from where they hung from the front of her apron and placed them on her face. Brook remained where she was. Red looked at her over the top of them. "You can go now."

The girl seemed to suddenly notice what she was doing and nodded, "Oh okay... okay good bye Miss Reznikov."

Red half acknowledged the girl as she scurried out the door and then looked at the telegraph. The substance of what she'd said was there. They'd had to stop at some little settlement just outside Cara County and get Lorna looked at by a doctor. The doc was saying they could probably leave the next day. Vause said they'd likely be back in no more than three days, maybe less.

A door shut on the upper landing, and she looked up to see one of Kubra's men, dressed only in his trousers and boots. The man, the leader of the three men, said, "Please pardon me, Mrs. Reznikov, but might I have some warm water?"

Red nodded, "Of course, sir."

"Many thanks," he inclined his head and went back into his room.

As Red went to fetch some warm water for him, stuffing the telegram into her pocket, worry suddenly spiked in her gut. The man was looking for Vause. he had been quite persistent about it. Chapman had managed to put him off (the girl was a talented liar), and he had been planning on leaving town... Red suddenly remembered that Brook had rushed in and started recounting the substance of Vause's telegram, including her name more than once, before Red could stop her. She didn't know how much the man had heard... but if he had...

She put the thought out of her head. Best to see how things played out rather than speculate.

Her mind was put at ease an hour later when, freshly shaved and dressed, the three men came down the stairs and stopped at the bar, settling their bills, "Our was quite night pleasant. thank you," he said, inclining his head. He and the others turned and walked out the door. Red heard them mount up and heard their horses galloping out of town to the East...

She let out a relieved breath and went upstairs to stir Nicky and tell her the good news (she hadn't wanted to tell her before the men had left, for fear she would give everything way)...

An enthusiastic Nicky rode down at 7:30 am to give Piper the news. Piper spent the rest of the day throwing herself into her work as she had the last few days, but there was lightness in her heart. Fahri and his men were gone, and Alex was returning. Tasha and Ford finished helping her with the barn, and they made a start on replacing some of the beams in the stables before they called it a night at 6pm.

She rode with the two of them up to town, and they all went to Red's, where there the mood was festive. Nicky was as happy as Piper had ever seen her, although she was also obviously concerned about Lorna having been injured badly enough to need a doc in the first place. Still, she was much encouraged by the fact the doc seemed to think they could travel.

After an evening of Russian food and good company, Ford delivered Piper back down to the ranch near ten. (she had almost insisted on walking, but he was sincere as he offered and she really didn't like making the walk alone when it was dark). She waved at him as he trotted back up towards town and then went into the house.

She'd only had one drink tonight, a celebratory vodka with Red and Nicky, and she felt more relaxed, happier than she had for days. She lit a fire in the hearth in the sitting room, then went upstairs. She changed into her nightshirt and put on her favorite blue silk robe, then picked up her book and went back to sit in front of the fire. She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep properly without the drink or Alex to lull her into calm, so she intended to read until she got too exhausted to keep her eyes open.

She had only read about ten pages before there was a knock at the door. She frowned. It was far too late for a caller. She put her book down and stood up, approaching the door warily. As she looked through the window next the door, she drew in a sharp breath and froze on the spot, surprise and fear jolting through her from head to toe. No... this wasn't right...

There was another polite knock and then, "I am aware you are on the other side of the door, Miss Chapman. Sadly for you windows work both ways."

Fucking smartass, she thought, frowning.

"And I also strongly suspect that you have a weapon in hand. Please consider carefully your course of action. There are three of us and only one of you. You know where I am, yes, but not where my associates are, and none of us have any qualms with defending ourselves if attacked. If you open the door and lay down your weapon, we can have a talk, like civilized people, although absent the lies that you were feeding us earlier. If you refuse to do either of those things, then we will be forced to take more drastic action. And I would not care to do that as it is not my purpose here."

He spoke the words in the same even, polite tone he had used when they'd spoken earlier. Piper was still rooted to the spot. She closed her eyes. If he was here now, and speaking the way he was, he surely knew about Alex. Red had mentioned something about Brook (who could never shut her fucking mouth) loudly announcing the contents of the telegram at the saloon that morning... Red had mentioned that Fahri had been staying there... behind a thin wooden door...

Everything the man said was correct. She could try to take them on, but as capable as she was, she was no fighter. There was always the possibility he was lying, that he would try to hurt her no matter what she did... but somehow she thought that she could trust him, at least on that point. Dread began to gather in her stomach... because he wasn't here for her... he was here for Alex...

Slowly she took a step forward and opened the door wide in one quick movement, dropping the gun at Fahri's feet as soon as it was open.

One of his men, the fat one, was to one side of the door, his gun drawn, and he stepped into her line of sight as Fahri picked up her pistol, examining it closely, "Very nice. I suspect Alex had a hand in choosing for you. She would want nothing but the best to protect her woman."

Piper looked at him, eyes flashing, trying to steady her breathing, not trusting herself to say anything.

"This really is such a quaint town you have here, Miss Chapman," he said, conversationally, tucking the pistol into his belt, "I was quite prepared to leave this morning, but instead, I thought it might be quite nice to stay," his dark brown eyes caught hers and held them, "at least until our mutual friend Miss Vause returns..."

A/N- dun dun dun...