Author's Note: Just a quick note here to say that, if you're skipping Leena's points of view, you're free to do that with her scenes in this chapter BUT there's also an Andi scene midway through that you do need to read. Also, the Leena scenes here definitely earn their teen rating, so please keep that in mind if you don't like reading violent scenes.

Chapter 15: Gambles

"But there's got to be a way out!" The newest addition to Jay's funhouse, a young and rather stringy man in glasses, paced around like a caged animal. Like a pendulum. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Leena shook her head. Focus, she ordered herself. Keep a grip on things.

"Locked doors, steel enforcements on the smaller ones," Bailey ticked off the points on his fingers, "High, small windows with iron lattices, no one and nothing inside except the three of us and a madman armed with knives and explosives…"

Despite herself Leena couldn't concentrate on their conversation. Jay would come out of his room soon. It was close to his leaving time and she knew he would pay attention to her again. He hadn't all day, except for tossing a bottle of water her way at the same time as he was dragging in the limp body of this scientist—Alan Holdgrove she remembered—nearly an hour ago. So he was bound to talk to her when he left.

Something they were saying drew her attention.

"Used to be able to tackle anything in high school—"

"More a scientist than a fighter, but I'm mad as hell right now—"

"If I held him off and you ran—"

"No!" Leena gasped as their plans finally crashed through to her, "No you can't! Don't you realize what he'll—"

Jay's door opened and neither of the men paid any attention to her, staring pure hate as he watched the three of them, head tilted to one side. For once, the terror on Leena's face wasn't just because of what Jay would do.

"Ah well," he muttered after a second, "Might as well get it over with. Come on then." He was looking straight at Bailey.

The policeman hesitated and Leena could practically see his mind clicking. A trap? Or was the Joker bluffing? Or was there some sort of trap he would trigger if he hesitated or attempted something clever? He seemed to decide on the straightforward approach.

He charged like a bull, faster than Leena would have thought possible for a man of his girth. In a second he had dragged Jay to the ground, arms locked around him and Leena heard the Joker give an appreciative cackle while Bailey pulled an arm away to pummel—

Leena was more interested in Holdgrove. The second Bailey attacked he bolted for the main doors, presumably still unlocked so Jay could leave. Leena felt a bubble of hope. She knew she was doomed of course. Jay would kill her before he allowed her rescue. And Bailey too just to spite her. But if Holdgrove at least got out, if the police managed to catch Jay…

The doors didn't budge.

Holdgrove slammed into them, furiously yanked at the handholds, tried to pull them up, and nothing moved. "Come on!" he screamed across the room to Leena, "Help me!"

Before Leena could even consider it there was a loud thwack from the center of the warehouse. Jay hopped up. Bailey stayed down. She watched, paralyzed, as Jay bounded across to the doors to where Holdgrove was still struggling furiously with the door. He seized the scientist by a shoulder, spun him so that they were face to face, and struck him hard in the stomach, the nose.

Holdgrove wasn't as tough as Bailey. He went down fast.

"Hmm. Not quite the best escape plan," Jay commented, shaking his head as he pulled out a key, dangled it tantalizingly above Holdgrove. The scientist paid no attention. From what Leena could see with the way he was hunched over, hands on his face, he seemed to be trying to stem a bloody nose. "Anyone with a little thought might have realized that I wouldn't just leave two strong people and an open door. Really, the only one with a brain here is little Harley."

He tipped her a wink. Leena swallowed, but he turned his attention back to Holdgrove. "Ya know what Al? Uh, can I call you Al?"

"You son of a b—"

"Aw, hush," Jay rolled his eyes, "I think Harley deserves something for her good work. Hmmm…" He looked around the room speculatively, then his eyes were drawn to the two men on the ground. "Which one Harl?"

Leena felt something cold in her stomach. "What do you mean which one?" She had a sinking suspicion that she knew what he was after though.

"We-yell," Jay rolled his eyes, "I'm gonna have to punish one of 'em. It wouldn't be, uh, fair to let both of them off. So you choose. Which one?"

Oh gosh. Leena tried to breathe, but she could feel the spasming twinge in her ribs and chest cavity that kept her from completely filling her lungs. She would take it. She could take it. She wasn't that far gone. Not yet. Which one?

"Me."

Jay stared at her for several seconds, then burst out laughing. "And every time I think I've brought you down…" he smacked his lips appreciatively, "Ah, Harley, Harley, Harley… no. That's not an op-ssshhhun." His lips settled to something between a grimace and a patient smile.

Leena didn't say anything. She couldn't.

"Aw, c'mon, Harl. If you don't speak up I'm gonna have to do it to both of 'em."

Think of it in medical terms. Triage, Leena told herself. If they were both patients, which one could physically afford it the most? Bailey was older, already beaten and unconscious, and had gone for nearly two days with nothing more than a little water from the bottle Jay had tossed them earlier. Holdgrove was younger, just lately kidnapped, with no other injuries than what seemed to be a bloody nose. Medically the choice wasn't difficult.

That didn't help much.

"Tick-tock-tick-tock," Jay hummed, "And… five… four… three… two—"

"Holdgrove," Leena whispered miserably.

"Sorry, Harley, what was that?"

"Hurt Holdgrove!" Leena shrieked, then burst into sobs. She couldn't make herself watch, but she heard, heard the scientist yelling, cussing Jay, cussing her, heard the blows and the way the swearing slowly turned into grunts, then yelps of pain, accompanied by shrieks of laughter. Leena covered her own ears, a thin, keening wail coming from her own throat. No. No, no, no no no-nonono! Somehow she locked out sound too, walled herself off, trapped inside with no one but the guilt and lurking madness that threatened to attack at any minute.

She didn't know when she came back to awareness. Jay was long gone, and both Bailey and Holdgrove were on the ground. She thought Bailey was still unconscious. Holdgrove was awake though, and he was staring at her with a mixture of anguish and loathing that perfectly reflected Leena's own feelings for herself.

Not knowing quite what she was doing, she pulled away, retreated back to that corner she had stayed in before Bailey had come, deliberately turned her back to the room. If Holdgrove decided she was worth attacking, well, she wasn't going to try and stop him.

He didn't though. Eventually Bailey woke up and Leena heard Holdgrove describing what had happened in a low voice. He came over to sit with her, but Leena ignored him. After awhile she fell into an uneasy sleep and when she woke up he was gone too.

"Alright," Bruce lifted a replica of Andi's GSU class ring from a velvet-lined box and handed it over. "The GPS locator is hidden in here. It's not water resistant, but otherwise very sturdy. Keep it on you at all times because it also holds your panic button. Twist the top stone and it'll send me a message that you're in danger."

"And the signal will reach you no matter where you are?"

"That's right. I'm not letting the receiver out of my sight while this is happening, and it has a beeper setting in case I'm asleep when you use it. Just don't let it off of you. Anything else we can afford to lose, but not this, you understand?"

She nodded and slipped the wide gold band on, her face pale but set. Bruce eyed her critically. Nothing about her appearance suggested that she was bugged as thoroughly as he knew how. The microphone and speaker set was planted invisibly inside her ear; there'd be no missing anything she said and he could keep her updated without a problem if he needed to. The two cameras, each equipped with their own GPS sets, were blended into a pendant necklace and the toe of her right shoe. The one on the necklace also kept track of her heart rate, temperature, and breathing.

She still looked frighteningly vulnerable, especially compared to him, dressed in his bulletproof suit equipped with weapons and gadgets. Once again, Bruce had to fight down the guilt rising in his stomach like bile. What was he thinking? Was he really so desperate that he'd send an unarmed woman, even this one, up against the Joker?

As always, Taylor was keeping her head with almost inhuman coolness. She was paler than usual, but her whole attitude was crisp, businesslike; she stood at complete ease in the middle of the Batman cave, having a casual conversation with him about her planned capture by a serial killer. She was either insane or much, much braver than he was. "How long do you think until he comes after me?"

"It depends." He tried to match her professional tone. "It'll take a little while for word to get out that you're alive and in Gotham, especially since you're in a protection program to keep your actual purpose hidden. And he seems pretty content now, blowing up buildings and snatching random people off the street every day. He might not even come after you. It's hard to tell with him." Bruce shrugged and returned to the other paraphernalia sitting on the same stainless steel table Andi had used to operate on him. "Now. That's all I have for tracing you unless you want me to surgically implant a tracker or something."

Andi threw him a disgusted look.

"Hey, that's what Alfred was suggesting!" Bruce raised his hands innocently. "Be glad I talked him out of it. Anyways, the other things here deal with tracking the Joker. We don't know what he's going to try, so I'm giving you several other things that might be useful once he finds you. I had to go with small objects, though, that can either be hidden or explained away if he finds them. More than anything, he can't know that this is a set-up."

Bruce held up a shirt from a stack of clothes he had sent Alfred out for earlier. Hopefully they were the right size and style—he didn't exactly follow women's fashion, but Andi always seemed to be wearing jeans and sneakers, and he couldn't see anything like that in the pile in front of him. She looked rather nonplussed. "What, did you think I looked fat in these clothes?"

Bruce had never claimed to understand women, but he knew better than to start on that issue. Least of all with a woman who already detested him. "Alfred got these yesterday," he said hastily, "Along with basically a whole new wardrobe. I've coated all of it with chemicals that will emit radio waves. I've got a network set up all over the city to sense for it and, while it will find you most easily since you'll be the one wearing most of the chemicals, he'll pick them up too if he tackles you or even grabs you hard by the arm. Try to get closer to him if you can, get more on him."

Andi raised her eyebrows and nodded approvingly. "What else?" she asked.

"These." Bruce handed her a pocket knife and a bottle of mace.

Andi snorted. "You honestly think that the Joker's going to be beaten with a little pepper spray?"

"No. This isn't pepper spray. Oh, it'll still sting the eyes, but more importantly it's also got the same radio wave substances in the spray. Use this if you can't get close enough to him to use the clothes or even to make an actual escape attempt if you need to, and I'll pick up the signal to track him down. The knife has its own tracker. Obviously, use it for self defense, cutting bonds, or whatever, but the real trick is if you can slip it into the Joker's pocket. He probably won't notice it's even there with all the others he has. Plus, it also carries a couple of detachable trackers in the hilt. See?" He twisted the bottom and several small black buttons fell into his hand. "They reattach to the knife and are sticky on one side. Slap them onto his back, in his car, whatever, and we'll be able to find him even if—"

"He kills me and ditches my body." Her voice was matter-of-fact, nervousness only betrayed by the slightest tremble. "Makes sense."

Bruce's face fell. Who am I fooling? Pepper spray? A knife? I might as well be sending a kid with a paper sword against that maniac! "Andi you don't have to—" Bruce took a deep breath and moderated his voice. "I mean you're contributing here and there's still got to be some other way—"

"I've found as much as forensics can find Bruce." She folded her arms and somehow looked down her nose at him despite being several inches shorter than he was. "The Joker's good, he's not going to make a stupid mistake that'll lead me to Leena. All I've found are patterns that are obvious to everyone. He attacks once a day. Random place, random time ever since he blew up Pam's labs. Kills as many as he wants, but there are always bodies missing. Probably kidnapping them for one of those twisted games of his. And when everywhere he's been has blown up and doused in water from firehoses, whatever traces he left would take years to find. The only thing I might ever get anything on soon are the explosives, and those vary so much I don't think there's any way he has just one supplier we could track down."

"But still to use you as bait—"

"Are you actually worried about me?" Bruce was shocked at the shock in her voice.

"Of course I am! You're being sent up against a man who has killed well over a hundred people and barely used a gun!" Bruce drew closer to her, until she had to tilt her head back to look at him, made his voice low and intense. He had to try talking her out of this at least once, and although she wasn't the sort of woman to be intimidated, every little bit of added authority helped. "Listen. You don't have to do this. There's no need to play the hero. I'm not going to lie and say there's absolutely no chance this will work. But it's much more likely that you'll die, slowly and painfully, without learning anything. I don't want that. I don't want it on my conscience and, more importantly, you shouldn't have to go through it."

She kept quiet for so long that Bruce began to hope that he had gotten through at last. Then she met his eyes with complete openness, for once not trying to stare him down. "Say it was you," she said softly, all the bravado gone from her voice. "Say he had someone you loved. Would you stand by because you were afraid?"

"I—" Bruce opened his mouth to say, Yes, he would do just that. He would be sensible and find other options that didn't involve things like making himself a walking target. His voice betrayed him, though, stuck in his throat. It was insane. This woman, one of the people he had given his life to protect was going to die just like Rachel. And, just like Rachel, he was going to bring it on her. He couldn't match her steady, steely gaze.

"We should go," he muttered, turning away towards the refurbished Tumbler. Andi followed.

"You know, my own car would work perfectly fine," she told him as they climbed in. Bruce shook his head.

"It's too obvious. If you were really hiding out, you would have been smart enough to abandon your car from the start. We can't let anything signal that this is a set up." Highly unlikely that the Joker would try to track Andi through something as mundane as her license plate. But then again, he seemed to thrive on 'unlikely.'

She just nodded and stared absently out the window as he burst through the waterfall, seemingly as listless as a kid on a long car ride. Her quiet was unnerving. Bruce was used to her near constant questions, her careful observations that catalogued everything in sight. The Tumbler's stunts ought to have had her sitting straight, trying to figure out the physics and materials involved. Clearly she was thinking of something else, and from the way her eyebrows were knitting together, it was probably something difficult. Perhaps the danger of what she was actually doing was finally sinking in.

"You know you're not like people say you are."

"What?" He had never understood how this woman's mind hopped around.

"I thought you were ruthless. A cold-hearted manipulator at first. Even when I learned you weren't a murderer I still thought you were… well, a ruthless cold-hearted manipulator who just happened to fight on the right side."

Bruce's mouth twisted. "You know, I never would have described myself as that until tonight."

"You're being stupid then."

"Right. Because sending an innocent person to do my dirty work isn't being a cowardly—"

"It's being smart. I'm going one way or the other. All you did was choose to make it worth something by giving me proper equipment." What was wrong with this woman? Three days ago she'd been glaring at him like he had run over her puppy, and now she was doing this. Bruce decided to just change the subject.

"Gordon's not happy about this," he told her, "He nearly took my head off when I told him you were coming into police custody instead of mine. And he's pulled enough strings to have nearly a dozen federal marshals assigned to you for round the clock protection."

"He's got no right to do that!" Andi gasped, "How is this supposed to work when I'm kept in swaddling the whole time?"

"First of all," Bruce said, "I never mentioned that you were planning to be kidnapped. Otherwise Gordon would have sent assassins after me and shipped you off to Alaska no matter what you wanted. Second, if you don't have that protection, things will look suspicious. I don't think any number of marshals will protect you from the Joker if he wants you badly enough."

"And if they get hurt or killed when the Joker comes after me?"

"Then you'll have to learn to live with it." Bruce purposely made his voice cold. Somehow it was easier to say when you used that tone. Or at least he pretended it was. "Just as I will if you get hurt. Unless you want to back out now."

He pulled up in front of the safe house, a dilapidated apartment complex with barred windows and a packed parking lot. From the area of town it was in, he thought Andi might have to worry about her safety just walking down the street as much as she would the Joker. Well, at least that was one danger the marshals should be able to protect her from. And he'd added his own security as well; cameras and most other bugs in the apartment itself would be spotted, but he'd set up laser microphones angled at the windows, cameras monitoring everyone who entered and left the building… it would do.

Andi simply stayed where she was, staring at the building. Bruce felt a slight bit of hope well up. "Last chance to call it quits," he offered.

She shook herself. "No. Thank you." It sounded as if she actually meant that. Bruce pressed the button to open the door, but Andi twisted around to face him.

"You know, I meant what I told you Bruce. You are a decent person. I misjudged you earlier. And I know you'll do all you can to protect me in this." She took a deep breath and held out her hand. "Friends?"

Bruce hesitated, then gently took it. His huge gloved hand engulfed hers but she somehow kept her grip firm and even pulled up a smile.

"Good hunting."

She left before Bruce could return the wish.

Leena stayed there. Jay dragged in another person the next day—a woman this time. Leena didn't bother learning her name. Didn't leave her corner. I want to die.

Every now and then she had wished that. With what he had done to her. But now it was real. She was at the brink of insanity; better to die first than to fall into that pit. She was ready.

Slowly a plan formed in her head. Suicidal. But then, that was the whole point. She folded herself up in the corner and resolved to wait until evening again. She hadn't eaten all day, but somehow it didn't matter. She was surprised it ever had.

Jay stepped out of his room, prepared to leave for the night, when Leena made her move. She pushed herself up. Calling to him was out of the question without water to moisten her throat, but she didn't care. Her movement made him come over and that was all that mattered. "Yeah Harley?"

One chance. She would have one chance. "Leena."

"What?" His voice went deadly. Perfect.

"I'm… Leena, Jay. Still Leena."

Silence. Then Jay leapt at her, punched her square in the face. Leena felt her shaking legs give out…

And as she fell she plunged one hand into his coat pocket, felt her hand close on something and pulled it out with her. Flick knife. Her finger moved on the catch and the blade sprang out. She twisted it towards her own throat—

And Jay's kick nearly snapped her wrist in two. The blade skittered several feet away and Leena crawled towards it desperately only for Jay to step hard on her back, pinning her like the butterfly in an insect collection. She tried to struggle, then gave it up, sobbing relentlessly. So close.

"Suicide Harley? Rebellion?" Jay sighed, then bent over her and picked up the knife. "I reee-ally hoped we were past this." He plopped himself down on her back, nearly snapping Leena's spine, and twisted her arm behind her so that he was holding her hand, almost wrenching it from its socket. Leena stayed still, crying out a bit at the pain in her arm. She saw the woman—blonde, young—shout something and start running towards her, but Bailey grabbed her around the waist and hauled her back. The look in his eyes… Leena put her head down and stared at the concrete instead.

Something sharp and thin dug between her nails and the tender skin underneath, and Leena shrieked. The switchblade. Her back tried to arch under Jay, her legs thrashed, but he kept moving it, wiggling it through her finger no matter how she bucked and screamed.

It pulled out and Leena's muscles collapsed, her shrieks lessened to quiet mewling.

"Your name."

Back up plan. If she couldn't kill herself, maybe he would do it. "Leena. Lee—"

Shrieking. Bleeding. Questions. Again and again and again. Repeating her name, the world turning red, one of her nails finally being pulled all the way off. It was worse than the beatings, worse than anything she could imagine. Shrieking and bleeding and questions and—

"WHY CAN'T YOU JUST KILL ME ALREADY?"

The pain relented and Jay stroked her head suddenly, giggling. "Was that your plan lil Harley? You wanted me to kill you?"

The knife was still in the hand mussing her hair. Leena tried to jerk her head backwards into it and Jay pulled away, chuckling to himself. "Look, Harl, this is pointless. Just tell me your name. I'm not gonna kill you and you've just gotta get used to the fact."

"No. NO!" He had to be joking, he had to be pretending. Because if he wouldn't kill her, if Leena had to live—

"Ya know what your problem is Harl? You just don't see the funny side of life. I mean—" Jay hopped up. Leena closed her eyes and turned away but she couldn't block out his words, "There's you. And you've got all these rules that you think will keep you happy and safe. And when they don't, you get so—so worked up about them you just wanna die. And then there's me. See I, I don't have all these rules. And without them… I'm fine. If you'd just wake up, you'd see that you're just the victim of a… cruel prank. I'm trying to help you. I'm trying to make you realize it's fine for there to be no rules." Jay paused and Leena dully turned her head to face him. He gave her a smile that might have been charming on another man. "I mean, look at me. I'm still normal."

He means it, Leena realized, he actually means it. This is how he sees the world. And he thinks he's helping me by making me like him.

"So. Let's start with the easy stuff." Jay squatted next to her. "What's'yer name?"

Leena hesitated. He was twirling the knife between her fingers. So close… and so far. She felt a whimper build in her throat. "Harley," she whispered.

"You killed my sister!"

Despite her listlessness, the pain, the absolute anguish in the voice made Leena look up at the newest person Jay was dragging in. Conscious this time. That was a first. And young. He was tall and gangly, already taller than her, but his voice was still high pitched. He almost looked like a young Michael Jackson really.

"You son of a bitch! My sister! My sister! She was only six! I'll kill you myself, I'll rip you apart, I'll—"

Jay shoved him to the floor and shuffled towards Leena. His breathing was somewhere between laughter and giggles. "Harley, will ya come and look at this jokester—"

The boy leapt onto his back, clinging to him like a spider monkey. Jay sighed and straightened. "Will ya please get off kid? I'm busy with something here."

Somehow the boy wedged an arm against Jay's throat and it was as if his action triggered something in the other three prisoners. Bailey and the woman sprinted over, Holdgrove following much more slowly—one of his legs hadn't worked right since the beating. There was no plan to it this time, no organization. As Jay fell to the ground, the boy still cutting off his air, the others attacked with desperate savagery. Leena turned away at the sound, at the fighting. Part of her wanted to help them. A larger part wanted to just curl up and imagine that it wasn't happening.

Suddenly there was a shriek and a crack. Leena's head whipped toward the sound and saw that Jay had at last succeeded in pulling the kid off of him. Jay was holding hard to the kid's wrist, the arm bent in the wrong direction, and spun with him so that the kid swung into Holdgrove. Bailey and the woman were still up, but as Bailey darted for him, Jay grabbed the woman around the waist and pulled out a knife, swiped across her chest.

Bailey stopped dead but Jay paid him no mind. The woman shrieked, struggled wildly against him. He was like a shark that had scented blood, frenzied and laughing manically. He dropped the knife and brought his face within an inch of hers. A gloved hand reached out to claw at her face, dip lightly into her eyes, rip and squish in the sockets as if he enjoyed the strange texture. The woman's back arched and she let out a bone-shattering wail, distilled pain spun into a duet with his hysteria.

"STOP! Jay stop you're going too far!" Leena shrieked. She didn't know where she found the will to do it, but suddenly she ran forward, leapt at his arm and hung on. No violence, but if she could just distract him—

He flung her off, Leena spun through the air, and then she was on the ground, her arms barely getting out in time to protect her head. She rolled over to see Jay, knife back in hand, turn his attention to the woman again. His knife flicked over her, slashing across, darting into her body, plunging in and ripping free. She had never thought he could restrain himself, but suddenly she realized that he had every time he tortured her, even that time he beat Holdgrove. Now he was letting loose, his laughter almost as loud as the girl's shrieks, blood spattering everywhere and there was nothing absolutely nothing Leena could do to stop it…

Jay released her suddenly and the girl stumbled forward, falling on her hands and knees. Red syrup dripped from her mouth and her eyes were bleeding everywhere, masking the rest of her features. He turned to Leena, his face splashed and speckled with gore, as if he'd applied the red part of his make-up wrong. He brought the knife up to his lips and Leena could swear she saw his tongue dart out, barely sampling the blood before it disappeared again. Then he held the blade out to her.

"Wanna put her outta her misery Harl?"

Leena's eyes flashed at the girl and back again. No way she would survive this. It would be almost a mercy… but…

No. She couldn't. She couldn't.

"Suit yourself."

Leena didn't know whether she had actually spoken aloud or if Jay had simply gotten tired of waiting, but he flipped the blade back into his pocket and left, only pausing to kick the woman in her mauled ribs on his way out.

It took the woman a very long time to die. Most of the night. Leena stayed alone, watching silently as her moans became softer, with longer spaces between them, then stopped altogether. The others all clustered around her, which meant that she had to stay away. Privately she was resolved not to go near them. After Jay had killed that woman… maybe he would have done it without her interference, maybe not. But now she realized that the only protection she could give them was to stay away from them. She should have known it all along. Jay was playing with her, and to him these innocents were only disposable pawns in his game.

Maybe Jay's right.

She'd been trying to fight the thought all night, but it wouldn't go away. What was the point? What was the point of caring? If caring only got others killed wouldn't it make more sense to stop? Maybe not caring would save them. In this insane new world he was putting her in… maybe the only sensible way to live was his way. Godless. Alone. Frankly, it made more sense to her right now than her own beliefs did.

After all, where had her morals gotten her? Halfway to insane and several people dead or almost there. Whereas Jay… well he was in the same position, but he wanted to be that way. If the situation was a given, maybe just liking it instead of fighting would make more sense. Who knew?

Leena thought about it. For the first time, she seriously considered just giving in. It would be so easy. It would make her happy again. She could just let go and be free… Jay would like that. He would be happy too. And if none of the others could be, maybe making Jay happy would be worth something… after all, he was trying to help her… maybe if one path only brought misery it made sense to try another way…

No.

She was like a rubber band released on the verge of snapping apart. No. Leena jerked, rubbed her eyes. No. She wouldn't do that. No.

And it wasn't because it was the right thing to do. It wasn't because she felt like she could resist. It was because she realized that with that decision would go the last of her sanity.

Author's Note: I know, I know, I'm a bit late with this one, but I hope it was long enough to make up for that!

I'm a little concerned about the violence in Leena's story; I think it can still get away with being in the teen section, but to be honest I'm hesitant. If someone thinks the chapter earns a rating change, I'll either edit and tone it down a little or consider switching the story to mature, even though I think Unmasked as a whole fits better with a T rating. Also, this should be the only chapter with blended Andi/Leena storylines. I tried to avoid it, but the chapter just worked better as a mesh of both stories no matter what I did.

Oh, and a shoutout here to Monday the 14th who not only helped me realize that Bruce needed to bug Andi's apartment in some way, but gave me a really cool idea on how he could do it. Also, a thank you to LOST for making me absolutely horrified at the idea of sticking anything sharp up my fingernails. At least this time it was a knife and not bamboo shoots.

Anyways, Irish are going to their bowl game tomorrow! Cheer for them as we (hopefully) push that winning record higher.