Hey, it's an update! Liz gets rescued.
Beta'ed by the lovely WtchCool.
- o – o -
Chapter nine: Down to the River
Liz buried her face in her knees, counting to ten in as many languages as she could remember all the numbers for. So far, she'd hit eight languages. (Was it really her fault that the anger management counselor she'd been ordered to see when she was sixteen had also been a language professor before his career change?) The day before, her plan had been to keep her father from getting locked in the cage and/or making an arse of himself in front of every notable of Palm City.
Now, she was locked in a cage. In the heart of Trolley Park, at the mercy of her—or rather, what would have been—her enemies. Alright, she hadn't been entirely antagonistic with the Carnival of Crime, but they didn't make it much easier for her. They still got together regularly to cause havoc for ARK, but all the gangs still standing were operating like that.
The fact that Raia—the only member of the carnival that she didn't actually mind—was nowhere in sight didn't help matters. She'd questioned Ruvi, her current guard, as to what exactly Malini had been thinking when he'd abducted her. Ruvi had, of course, ignored her.
Liz sighed and looked up, having completed her round of fifteen languages. "Mister Ruvi?" she asked, falling back into her role of "terrified little girl" with ease. "Mister Ruvi, I wanna go home."
Ruvi gave her a look that was equal parts loathing and annoyance. "Quiet," he ordered, flipping another card over. He'd been playing solitaire for the past half hour. His mood hadn't improved since Vince—the Cape, Liz reminded herself, as she wasn't supposed to know the vigilante's secret identity—had seen her in the tiger cage. The vigilante had stormed into Max's trailer. At least the yelling had stopped, finally.
"Mister Ruvi?"
Ruvi swore under his breath in Romanian, throwing his deck of cards down on the table in front of him. "What?" he asked, clearly exasperated. Liz couldn't blame him—she'd been asking questions nonstop for the past…eight hours, or so. She was rather close to making him crack, too. "Why did I ever leave Romania?" the hypnotist grumbled under his breath, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"Can I use the bathroom?" Liz asked. Ruvi grimaced and promptly pawned the task off on Raia, who'd been attempting to sneak by without being seen. Liz smiled at the hypnotist as she walked past, snickering into her hand as he shot her a dark glower.
The bathroom was outside the big top. Given the smell of perfume and the amount of lipstick that had been smeared on napkins that had been tossed into the trashcan, it probably also doubled as the lady's dressing room.
Five minutes later, Liz had decided her suit—the grey one that matched her father's suit from the evening before—was a lost cause. The stains on the knees were never coming out, and the smell from the tiger cage was never going to leave. She was going to have to burn it, which was a pity. She'd actually liked the grey silk…
"Hi Miss Raia," Liz said cheerfully as she exited the bathroom. Raia had, amazingly enough, let her go in by herself. Unfortunately for Liz's escape plan, there had been no windows to crawl through. If she'd been stronger, she'd have tried rushing Raia, but that wasn't happening.
"C'mon sweetie," Raia said, taking Liz's hand. The usually bubbly carnie was withdrawn. If not for the fact that Liz knew why she was worried, the woman's attitude would have been more worrisome.
The scene, when they reentered the big top, resembled a riot in the opening stanzas. Vince, still in full regalia, was yelling at Ruvi. Ruvi was yelling right back, throwing in a few Romanian curses. Rollo and Max's attempts to separate them weren't working. Most of the carnies had vacated the tent, rather than try to aid either side in the argument.
"Max!" Raia yelled, running into the center of the fray. Liz was left on the raised platform around the center ring to watch the proceedings. "What is going on?" There was a reason Raia worked with the big animals, Liz decided as she watched the petite woman grab Ruvi and Vince in a headlock, before knocking the men's heads together. The former combatants stumbled away, clutching their heads with looks of pain on their faces. Yeah. Who else would be trusted to look after massive animals with raging tempers?
After a few minutes, and a few Tylenol for Ruvi and Vince, the vigilante walked over to Liz. He knelt down in front of her, a look of fatherly concern on his face.
"Elizabeth?" he asked. Liz jerked herself back to reality, away from her thoughts. She smiled at him, drawing a relieved look from him. "Hey sweetie. I'm the Cape."
Liz gave him a look that clearly asked if he was an idiot. It was kind of hard to miss the fact that he was crazy enough to playact as a vigilante. The cloak kind of gave it away, really.
"Of course," Vince muttered under his breath. The thought that raced across his face was similar to why, oh why did she have to act like her father, according to Liz. He picked her up, and either didn't see or was ignoring the look of annoyance on Liz's face.
"I'm going to…take you to a friend's," the vigilante said. "I can't walk into the docks, not even with you in tow." Liz knew that much—no matter how much her father might be worrying, he'd still have the vigilante shot on sight.
"Wait!" Liz said. "I…I kinda…sent a message to a friend of mine. I t'ink 'e's worried about me… C'n y' drop me there instead?" she asked, playing the role of embarrassed child rather well.
"What friend is that?" Vince asked, carrying her to the entrance of the big top. There was an all-too familiar black motorcycle there. Liz remembered Trip riding around on it when he'd first donned the mantle of Cape. So, he'd inherited it from Vince.
"'Is name is Trip Faraday," Liz said, matter-of-factly. The look on Vince's face was priceless. Liz settled back in her seat on the motorcycle as Vince muttered a few choice curses under his breath.
Some things were too good to pass up.
- o – o -
Trip paced around his room, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. He hadn't heard anything from Liz since her text message the night before—one that had been sent an hour before he'd gotten back to his room. Somehow, this was not a good thing. Normally, he'd have killed for a little peace and quiet in relation to her—especially when she'd been tormenting him back in their…original timeline.
Now, though, he was worried as hell. His mother thought he was still asleep, which was a good thing. Trip didn't think he'd be able to hold it together if she asked him why he looked so worried. That wouldn't have been easy to explain…
Why yes, mom, I am worried. After all, my best friend—who just happens to be the daughter of the most notorious criminal in Palm City, by the way—has been missing for the past, oh….twelve hours. No, I don't think she's ignoring me, and why are you looking at me like that?
Yeah. That conversation would have ended well… The ten-year-old sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. Those seemed to happen with alarming frequency around the former smuggler. If he hadn't needed someone around to talk to—who he could be completely honest with—he'd have started ignoring Liz the second he'd come back in time. As it was…
Trip leapt up from his seat as he heard the fire escape creak, landing on his feet in a crouch. It was just past dawn, which meant that only one person could be visiting. (Given how thin his nerves had worn, was it any surprise that he was reacting the way he was?)
It shouldn't have surprised him when the Cape appeared outside his window, a wide-eyed and pale Elizabeth Raoul clinging to him. It shouldn't have, but it did.
"Hi Liz," Trip said, waving. "Hi Cape. Want some coffee?"
It was par for the course that nothing surprised him anymore.
- o – o -
Dana woke up to the smell of coffee. Given that her ten-year-old had taken to making it every morning, it didn't draw her back to memories of Vince. She just wished the smell would stop giving her heart attacks every time she imagined Trip doing a backflip off the counter. (The public defender also wanted to know just who'd taught him how to do those; Vince wasn't that flexible, and she'd never taken gymnastics.)
The public defender made her way into the kitchen and stopped. She blinked several times, and sighed, rubbing her temples. She obviously wasn't awake just yet…or it was a lot earlier than she'd thought it was.
"Trip," Dana began, "is there…a vigilante sitting at the kitchen table?"
Trip looked at her and nodded. "Mom, this is the Cape."
Dana sighed. She obviously needed the coffee.
"Oh, and this is my best friend, Liz. Her dad is Scales."
And quite possibly a stiff drink to go with it
- o – o -
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