Now, there's been a significant change in Jackie/Phalanx since last we saw her. It's been a while. Also, I know there's some stuff in here that intersects with the video game. Never played it, never will. I just wanted something to keep things going until things really get going.

Sorry about all the songs in this chapter…I feel like they're necessary, but you can skip 'em if you want. The Beatles will be prancing alongside Yann Tiersen in this story, but for a better reason because I'm not fucking history in the arse to do so. There's another song that I wanted to use, but after doing a bit of research, I found that it would make no sense, and if there's one thing I want chronologically correct in this story, it's at least the release date of Beatles' songs. WHEW. A/N OVER.

Music: "Lazy Eye" by the Silversun Pickups for this very first bit, then "Black Leaf Falls" by Sea Wolf for the scene change, which should end about in time for "The Baudelaire Orphans" by Thomas Newman. Since that's a short song, do "The Wolf" by Fever Ray right next. Then finally, in the last part she's playing The Beatles' "Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown)".

-w-Two Years Later-w-

"Cat!" Jackie gasped and looked up, suspended an arm's length above her floor. She glared around for several moments, then, seeing nothing, continued doing push-ups, counting lowly under her breath. She had done a dozen before she heard a pattering of paws and a thump of her bed sheets. Shoving herself up again, Jackie glared up at her bed, blinking past salty drops of sweat. Nothing. Muttering to herself again, she lowered her body to the ground, hovering, before going up again. Then there, almost nose-to-nose with her was the skinny feline, staring at her with its clever green eyes. She started, losing her concentration, and her arm flew out from under her.

"Agh!" Jackie smacked against the chill floor, scowling. She jumped up and snatched Oscar up in her arms. The room was instantly filled with maniacal laughter, hissing, yowling, and then more laughter. Jackie looked down at her hand, where the cat had clamped its little jaws on her flesh; the creature had long ago learned that it was okay to play rough. Jackie smiled and rubbed the old cat's soft throat. He paused, then let go of her. After what seemed like a moment of consideration, it began licking the bleeding skin with its sandpaper tongue.

Jackie checked her watch, then looked out the window and yawned. Time for coffee. Sloppily pulling back her hair, she grabbed her coat and shuffled out of the little apartment. Somewhere in the same complex, she heard children screaming, though whether in joy or not she couldn't tell. Before she got outside she turned up her collar against the autumn wind, shivering. The morning was early and dim, a chill breeze whipping down the streets. A few blocks down to the diner, she stopped at a newspaper stand and began searching her pockets for change.

"Hello," She said neutrally. "Can I have a Gazette?"

"Sure." The vendor said in a thick New York accent, grabbing a paper and taking her cash. "Heard about that Twilight Lady? She's causing all sorts o' trouble."

Jackie shook her head and read the headline. It was about Nixon running for President. Just below was another article about some sort of costumed villain named the Twilight Lady. Jackie scanned the text for a moment before turning to continue down the street. "Thank—ooof!"

She slammed into someone face-first. She held her paper protectively against herself and took a few steps back. Her breath created a small cloud of fog in the morning air. "Oop—god, sorry, my fault." The guy was a little shabbily dressed and seemed about her age if not slightly older by about a year or two. He wasn't terribly attractive, but Jackie couldn't seem to look away from him. He had a short, uneven plop of almost startlingly orange hair on his head. She blinked, and then broke out in a bright smile.

"Hey, great hair." She grinned as she continued walking down the street and glanced over her shoulder. He was still staring at her, really staring, with a most perplexing, intense look upon his face. Surprise, almost. Jackie kept walking, thinking little of the encounter, and neatly folded her paper. She bought her coffee and walked back to her old studio. Pale light shone softly through the windows, casting faded shadows across the shiny wood floor. Her piano sat at the far end, just where it always was. Jackie happily dashed across the room and jumped onto the worn bench, setting her cuppa on the top of the piano. She gave the dark wood a little peck and opened the lid.

"Hello, lovely." She greeted, rolling her fingers along the chipped ceramic keys. Jackie laughed and turned around to rest her back on the open piano, snapping open her paper and reading about Nixon's inauguration. Taking a long sip of searing hot, completely black coffee, her grin widened until it hurt.

-w-

Jackie was reclined on her bed, reading a book titled Strategy and War: Rome. Oscar was on her belly, purring contentedly as she rubbed behind his soft ears. The setting sun cast beams of orange and gold light through her window. As she reached the next chapter, concerning the command and control structure of the Roman troops, she yawned, rolled her neck and checked her watch. Sighing, she looked out her window as the sun slid behind the buildings opposite. Night fell quickly and coldly, the chill air infecting her bedroom like a plague. Leo stood up and strutted up to Jackie's face to curl up once more in the crook of her neck. Jackie gave the cat a little kiss on the top of the head.

"I'm sorry, love." She murmured to the animal. "It's time for me to go." Liquorice blinked lazily and looked away from her, seeming to be almost mad. "Oh, fine then, be like that." Jackie stood up, setting Leo down on her pillow. She crouched down and pulled her costume from under her bed, setting it on top.

When she straightened, she noticed a new set of little bumps on her windowsill. Or, she thought they were just bumps. Frowning, Jackie flicked on the lamp by her bedside and moved to the window. When she got there, she had to bite the inside of her lip to keep from laughing. Below her was Rorschach, in the middle of pulling himself up into her apartment, as per usual. Jackie grinned and held out her hand. After a moment of silent consideration, Rorschach accepted the hand, and Jackie pulled him inside.

"So, what's the occasion this time?" She asked trench-coated man. She tossed her costume behind her changing screen, a little thing decorated with bamboo that she had bought on discount. At this point, she could practically hear Rorschach turning around. "You usually only come 'round when there's an occasion."

"Daniel and I picked up clue on Twilight Lady's location. Going in to find her tonight."

"Aw, and you wanted me to tag along? How considerate of you." Her silhouette tossed her top over the screen and began putting on her costume. "Hm, Twilight Lady. I read that she has some sort of weird thing for Dan, right?" Jackie poked her head around the edge of the screen to see Rorschach shrug indifferently. To her very, very great surprise, he hadn't completely turned his back to her. Jackie frowned. "That's odd."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing." She disappeared behind the screen and began putting on her trousers. "Usually you're as far from me as physically possible whenever I'm in anything less than something that covers more than half of my skin. Feeling a 'it fofial daday, ah ve?" She stepped out from behind the screen, her last words mumbled by a handful of pins in her mouth. "Fo, adout 'his Twiwight Wady—yowch!" Jackie yelped as all the pins clattered from her mouth. She pulled one from her hair and glared at it. "Damn, that smarts . . . anyway, how do we intend on getting to her? I assume the plan consists of, 'barge in and hope things don't completely go down the drain'?" She finished putting the pins on her hair, and before Rorschach could answer, a ladder clattered down next to her window.

"Ah, that'll be Dan." Jackie pulled her mask on and stepped onto and over her bed to the window. Opening it, she leaned out a dangerous distance, almost only holding on by her knees, and waved up at the far-off Owlship. A little figure in one of the yellow windows waved back. Phalanx leapt from the apartment and snatched hold of the ladder, pulling herself up at lightning speed. About three-fourths up, she couldn't feel anyone behind her. She looped her legs in the rope and let go, falling so her back was against the thin rungs, and expected to see Rorschach a distance behind her.

"Oh!" She laughed, contradicting the face of her mask. "You're right there, didn't see you." Rorschach, who she could almost see glaring at her, grabbed his fedora so it wouldn't blow off as the ladder swayed recklessly to and fro. Phalanx flipped herself back up and they clambered up the rest of the way to the ship, the wind howling and pushing them around. Phalanx jumped into the Owlship, chuckled and shook Nite Owl's hand.

"Good to be here, Dan." She greeted. "Out to catch another bad guy, eh?"

Dan smiled. "Something like that."

"Good—great! So, what sort of hint did you pick up?" Phalanx plopped herself down on the floor against a wall and hugged her knees against her chest.

"It was Rorschach that picked up on it. He interrogated a worrying amount of people." Nite Owl answered as said vigilante joined them in the Owlship. "Someone said Twilight Lady was hiding out in a, eh, a BDSM elite club."

Phalanx looked up at Nite Owl with an incredulous look in her eyes. "A BDSM club? Seriously?"

"Yeah." Daniel nodded to Rorschach and sat down at the pilot's seat as Rorschach began pulling up the ladder. "A BDSM club. It's disguised as an old mansion. Serious people go there, public figures. We can't have her blackmailing them or worse."

"A-ha!" Phalanx jabbed a finger at Rorschach, seemingly out of the blue. "Oh, I was right! We're just going to barge in and hope things don't go down the drain!"

Dan laughed as the ship zoomed up and away. "More or less."

Phalanx reclined on the floor for a bit longer before jumping up and peering out the window. New York drifted by below, lights from windows winking yellow and flickering with different colours from people watching the telly. Phalanx pressed her face as close to the glass as she could, watching the streets and lights and tiny people on the sidewalks.

"I never got to see London like this," She murmured in reminiscence, just a breath that even she could barely hear. "I wish I could have. Seeing things from a different perspective . . ."

It took about twenty minutes to reach the hideout, which really was an old Gothic mansion, complete with classic architecture and spiked fence. They flew past it about a block, and Rorschach let the ladder down again.

"I'll go land Archie." Nite Owl said. "You two go ahead, find a way in, and wait for me."

Phalanx and Rorschach slid down the ladder and dropped off on the ground. Neither looked back up at the Owlship. They walked along in the cold autumn air toward the mansion, saying nothing, as nothing now needed be said. When they reached the tall gate, Phalanx sighed and rolled her neck. The joints popped loudly, and she did the same with her fingers and shoulders while Rorschach inspected the lock and chain on the fence. He gave it a sharp yank, to no avail.

"Why would the gate be locked at this time of night? Isn't this a club?" Phalanx inquired quietly, peering up at the building.

"Probably tipped off about us." Rorschach grumbled, rummaging in his pockets for something.

"Way ahead of you." Phalanx called from the top of the fence. "You know, I really hate these sharp, pointy bits." She tapped a gloved finger on one of the razor tips before carefully putting both her legs on the other side and dropping down. She landed hard, but her only expression was the squinting of her eyes as she grimaced under the mask.

Seconds later, Rorschach finished picking the lock and pushed open the gate and closed it behind them. The duo crept up the path, Phalanx dancing silently ahead while Rorschach plodded on behind, looking around the wide, trimmed yard. The former darted up to the door and peered inside the peephole.

"I don't see anything!" She whispered, dark iris flicking around, seeing nothing but darkness. She turned around and stepped aside for Rorschach. He easily kicked open the door, which swung open on oiled hinges. Phalanx jumped into the darkness, vanishing almost the second she stepped over the threshold. She stumbled on something, stubbing her toe in the process. Cursing under her breath, she blinked furiously in the attempt to see where she was going.

"Rorschach!" She whispered, waving her hands in front of her wildly. "Tell me you have a torch in that black hole of a coat!" Almost as soon as the words left her mouth, a beam of white light cut blindingly through the darkness. "Brilliant."

Now with light, Phalanx had a chance to look around. The room was a small foyer that led into a larger main room, which was decorated with purple drapes hanging from the walls and ceiling, the floor covered with pillows. There were dozens of metal hooks on the walls, ceiling and floor for god-knows-what. The more rooms they moved through, the more depraved the decorations seemed to get. The two vigilantes quickly worked their way through the mansion, Phalanx leading and Rorschach providing light. As the former stepped onto yet another staircase, she heard a scuffle behind her. In the same second, she was armed and turned around, peering in the flickering light as the torch waved wildly before settling.

"How did I know you two weren't going to wait?" Nite Owl muttered, sounding amused nonetheless.

"I didn't even hear that part." Phalanx relaxed, but didn't sheathe her knives. "I thought the plan was to just barge in and hope things don't go down the drain."

"Well, maybe we should think things through—" Dan started, but was interrupted by someone else.

"Well hello, lady and gentlemen." A voice purred from the top of the stairs. The three below turned to look, Rorschach's torch flashing up to illuminate the figure above, which was unnecessary, as the chandelier above them suddenly burst with light. At the top of the stairs was Twilight Lady, scantily clad and carrying her signature riding crop and beehive of ginger hair. "I suppose you're looking for me?"

Phalanx stepped calmly to the side, and Rorschach tore past her up the stairs. The Brit happily followed, knives drawn, with Nite Owl bringing up the rear. Twilight Lady fled, running back into the maze of velveteen rooms. They whipped around corners and through narrow, obscured passageways. Slowly working their way higher in the tall building, Phalanx was getting fed up with just running around in the cramped, dim building. Spying a window, she darted over and slammed the pane open, leaning out to look up the face of the building. Rorschach and Nite Owl continued forward, both seemingly oblivious to her disappearance. Phalanx stepped onto the ledge and pounced up the building, pleased with the amount of easy handholds on the old Gothic structure.

When she reached the roof, she wasted no time in pulling a length of twine from her belt and tying it between the two white pillars that were placed on either side of the door. Phalanx pulled a knife out and gave it a quick, nervous sharpen. She moved to stand to the right of the door, invisible to anyone coming through. A few minutes of tense waiting, and the door slammed open with a mighty crash. Twilight Lady dashed through and tripped over the twine, skidding to the ground. Rorschach stopped suddenly to avoid making the same mistake Twilight Lady had, Nite Owl running comically into his back.

Phalanx leapt forward with a bark of victorious laughter, but just when she got within arms' reach the woman leapt up, faster than Phalanx had expected. Before the latter could get over her shock, a tall boot smashed across her face, shifting her mask slightly and throwing her a few feet to the side.

Phalanx let out a long stream of ugly profanities as she stumbled away, hissing like a wild animal. She heard quick footsteps and a hand on her shoulder, then Dan's voice. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." Phalanx pushed her mask back into position, no longer in such a good mood. "Slippery whore will get what's coming to her."

"You sound like Rorschach." Nite Owl muttered as said vigilante joined them.

"Do I?" Phalanx chirped, malice gone like a bad smell. She looked at Rorschach. "Do I sound like you?"

Rorschach pointed at the confident-looking Twilight Lady. "We have bigger problems."

"Oh, fine." Phalanx pulled out a longer, curved knife, but Rorschach stepped forward, obviously agitated.

"Will deal with her myself. She is corrupting the youth and deserves to pay."

All present knew exactly how Rorschach dealt with criminals, and this seemed to make Nite Owl suddenly very nervous. He stepped forward to stop Rorschach. All the while, Twilight Lady looked on with a bemused expression.

"Uh, let's not get hasty, Rorschach. I mean, there has to be a way to talk this out, right?" He looked to Twilight Lady. "Right?"

"No." Rorschach said firmly and started forward again.

"But . . . there has to be something we can do—"

"Daniel, this is not up for debate—"

Just as the argument seemed about to come to blows, the bickering was interrupted by a gasp of pain and a thump as someone struck the floor. Both male vigilantes looked to see Twilight Lady crumpled on the roof, scarlet leaking from her middle, with a short, gleaming knife lodged in her abdomen. Nite Owl let out a small cry and rushed over to the dominatrix, who seemed to be injured but still alive. Rorschach looked back at Phalanx, the latter of whom was climbing over the railing. She stopped and rested her chin on her arms, balanced on a ledge below. She looked at Nite Owl and Twilight Lady, then back to Rorschach, and gave a little beckoning gesture. Leave them be.

Glancing down, Phalanx slipped down the building, wandered back to the entrance to the mansion and waited patiently for Rorschach. When he emerged, the two walked back out the gate to the estate and finished their patrols in silence.

-w-

Jackie frowned down at her fingers as she pressed them on the white keys, playing the first Beatles song she had heard on the radio. After finding it moving, she began trying to play the entire piece by ear. It wasn't hard, but it wasn't very easy either. The night was dark and she hadn't listened to the song in two days, making it hard to concentrate. Despite common sense, the pianist found herself longing for caffeine. Yawning, she tried a different chord to see if it sounded right for a verse. As she did so, she looked up at the calendar across from her. There was something about today, something that was supposed to be important . . .

As she was thinking, a quick rapping on the door shook her awake. "We're closed." She called sleepily.

"Maybe a private lesson?"

Jackie blinked, and in a rush it all came back to her. In a flash she was up and threw open the door. On the other side was a small, young woman, more petite than Jackie, and Jackie was by no means tall or big. Bright blond hair was cut primly under her ears, and her face was round and cherub-like. She had slightly large front teeth, so the overall effect was something like talking with a blond chipmunk.

"Oh my god you're back." Jackie's jaw almost dropped. After getting over her shock, the two women laughed and embraced. "I can't believe it, I almost forgot you existed!"

"It's wonderful to see you again, Jack-Jack!" The small woman gushed. "And come now, you could really forget about me?"

"Well, not really." Jackie admitted. "No one really forgets you, Lucy."

"Of course not!" The woman squealed happily. "Now, for the real reason I came back—let's go get a pint."

-w-

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